Love Me Tonight - Four Erotic Romance Stories for Valentine's Day - Boxed Set

by Kayne, Kandi

  “I want to see you walk in them,” he says, his voice hoarse. He backs up and stands, taking my hand in his and helping me to my feet. He bends for a second to put the other shoe on my other foot.

  When he’s upright again, we’re almost face to face. I’m just a couple inches below his mouth now. My heart is hammering in my chest and my eyes are darting all over, taking in his luscious lips, his smoldering eyes, the firm set of his jaw. He’s battling with himself over something, I can tell by the way his jaw muscle is pulsing in and out, in and out. I just know I can tip the balance in my favor.

  “Why are you doing this?” I whisper.

  “I don’t know,” he whispers back. And then he bends down toward me.

  Our lips meet and my eyes close.

  His lips are warm and soft at first, and then firmer and more insistent. I barely have time to enjoy the easy, tender way he’s moving his mouth over mine when his hot tongue plays along the edge of my mouth, wanting to come in.

  The tip of my tongue touches his and a shot of pure desire zings down to my panties. I feel myself getting moist between my legs, as his big hand slides down my arm to my rear end where he squeezes me just the right amount. He pulls me against him so I can feel his hard length against my mound, and he angles his head to deepen our kiss.

  I moan involuntarily, swept away already with the passion, the desire, the need to feel him against me, naked. I’m not even thinking rationally anymore. An hour ago I’d never seen this man before. Now I’m four inches taller in three thousand dollar shoes, and I’m ready to strip naked in the middle of a store. Paris, what have you done to me?

  He grabs me by the shoulders and ends our kiss, pressing his forehead to mine. I think he’s going to stop entirely, but then he slams his lips into mine again, and I nearly shout with excitement. We’re all over each other, kissing, licking, nipping. My hands run up his chest and then down to his crotch, feeling the hard bulge beneath the denim.

  “Wait,” he whispers, pulling away again. He takes the sides of my head in his hands and stares at me. “I want to see you in those shoes.”

  I’m confused again. “Why?”

  “I don’t know. Will you wear them for me?”

  “Sure,” I say, bemused.

  “Just one thing,” he says, kissing me for a few seconds wildly before pulling back again. Breathing heavily, he continues. “I want to see you in them naked.”

  “I’ll get naked if you do first,” I challenge. I have no idea where that came from, but I’m not taking it back.

  “Really?” he asks, kissing me once more.

  I have a hard time letting him stop, grabbing him and pulling him to me and forcing him to kiss me more. “I’ve been wanting to see you naked since the minute I met you,” I mumble against his mouth.

  He growls and joins me in the desperate pawing I’ve been doing at his shirt. I really don’t want to pull our lips apart, and apparently neither does he, so we work together to get his shirt off as we kiss.

  My mind is swirling with the implications. I’ve been in Paris for mere hours. I came here to find some hot sex or a good time, and I’m already having it. Even if I never see this man again, and I’m sure after tonight I never will, this is the best night of my life. The most exciting thing I’ve ever done. I’m lettting loose like I never have before and feel all of my inhibitions falling away from me. I’m free!

  He yanks his shirt free of his pants, and he’s standing there in just his jeans. His shoes have already come off somehow.

  I look at him in the lights of the store and stop breathing momentarily. When I finally do again, it all comes out in one big whoosh.

  “Wow. You’re… beyond gorgeous,” I say, staring at his flat abdomen and defined muscles, a sprinkling of dark hair covering it in places.

  “Now you,” he says, lifting my t-shirt over my head. I’m eternally grateful for the fact that I wore my best underwear and bra today to celebrate my first night out on the town.

  “Wow. Now it’s my turn to admire you. Turn for me.”

  I spin around quickly, my arms crossed over my chest. “It’s a little cold in here.”

  “Come here. I’ll warm you up,” he says, pulling on my arm. I fall into him and the kisses that are waiting for me.

  We work on each other’s pants and soon are standing in just our underwear. He’s wearing boxer briefs, and I swear he should stop doing whatever it is he does for a living and model underwear. He could make a mint. He’s not perfect looking, but that’s what makes him so amazing in my eyes. His brow is perhaps a little too prominent. His eyebrows maybe a little too thick, and his nose a bit on the strong side. But it all adds up to one hell of a sexy hunk of man, and I want to feel him between my legs so badly right now, I’m ready to beg.

  “Show me the shoes,” he says, pulling away from me and dropping down onto a chair. He gestures with his finger lazily. “Walk for me, Lilly Rose. Show me what you have to offer me.”

  I like his sass, the almost arrogant look on his face. Tonight I’m the most confident woman in the world. I have nothing to lose here except opportunities I let pass me by, and that’s just not going to happen.

  I nudge the discarded clothes out of the way and start walking across the small space, putting just enough sway into my walk to show off my assets. I should probably be self-conscious, but I’m not. I feel beautiful. Powerful, even. When I turn and come the other way, I know I have him if I want him. His hand has dropped to his crotch, and he’s rubbing himself. The bulge beneath those briefs is making me hyperventilate. I can’t wait to see it.

  “Not those,” he says, looking at the shoes. “No, I don’t think so. Maybe these.” He leans forward and flips the cover off another box, pushing the paper out of the way.

  The red ones. He’s taken the red ones out from the back room for me to wear.

  I look at him as I bend down and take them out of the box. Neither of us says a word as I sit on the edge of the seat across from him and slip them onto my feet.

  His looks go stormy on me. His eyes darken with barely restrained passion. “Show me,” he says, pointing to the floor.

  I stand, looking at him for several long moments before I turn. I walk the floor slowly, one foot in front of the other, stopping when I’m far away. I stand there with my legs spread slightly apart and look at him over my shoulder.

  “Do you like them?” I ask.

  “Yes,” he says, his voice husky.

  “How much?” I ask, pressing his buttons just because I can. I know I have a great butt. It’s one of my best features, and I’m giving him a great view of it with my leg muscles tensed and my lower back angling my rear end out towards him.

  “Come back here, and I’ll show you how much I like them.”

  I walk back slowly, and he stands to meet me.

  “How long are you staying in Paris?” he asks when I’m in his arms again.

  We’re kissing, so I answer against his mouth. “One week.”

  “Stay with me,” he says, running his hands around my back and then up and around my ribs to gently knead my breast.

  My breath catches in my throat, partially because of the question and also because of the way he’s squeezing my nipple. I’m getting those sweet shocks that zip down and make me gush. It’s such a simple thing, but the way he does it…

  “Please,” he begs. “I’ll give you a complete tour of the city. I’ll take you down to my winery. I’ll show you everything.”

  I back my head up, ending our kiss abruptly. “You have a winery?”

  “Yes. Say you’ll stay with me. I’ll give you the best Valentine’s holiday you’ve ever had.”

  I stare into his eyes, and then smile. “You already have.”

  He walks me over to the place on the wall where the light switches are. He presses them down, bathing us in darkness.

  Our hands are soon everywhere again. He unhooks my bra, and I push down his briefs, taking his hard rod in my hand. It’s as smooth
as silk but at the same time, hard as steel. That little peek I got through his jeans didn’t do him justice at all. “Oh my god. It’s huge.”

  “I’ll be gentle, I promise. Please let me make love to you.”

  I’ve never had a man actually say that to me, and I never would have guessed how hot it would make me just to hear the words. “I don’t have a condom,” I say, cursing my stupidity.

  “I do. Lie down.”

  He digs into his jeans and makes short work of readying himself. I reach for him as he gets near, taking him into my hands again. I lose my grip on him though when he bends down to take first one of my nipples and then the other into his mouth.

  He sucks and nips them and the breast itself too, until it makes me cry out. I’ve never been so close to an orgasm from a man just touching my breasts, but I am now. It’s not going to take much to push me over the edge.

  And then he puts his fingers to my folds, and I nearly die with the pleasure. “Oh my… oh…” Words fail me.

  He’s sliding his fingertips up and down my slit, pausing at the top to circle my sensitive bud, all the while sucking my nipples hard.

  I push him over when I start feeling my ears burn, knowing the orgasm is near. I’m not satisfied with being on the bottom and letting him have all the fun. I want this to last. I want to be in charge.

  He goes down willingly and absently massages one of my breasts as I bend down to start at his neck. I suck the skin a little before running my tongue down to his collar bone. I nip and bite my way to his nipples where I spend a little time pulling them with my lips into points, making the blood rush in and harden them. He moans a little, signaling I’m on the right track. I move lower to his abdomen, intent on continuing, but he grabs me under the arms and lifts me up.

  “What do you want?” I ask, ready for anything.

  “I want to be inside you,” he growls.

  I bite my lip and stare at his darkened face. He’s the sexiest stranger I’ve ever seen or even dreamed about, and I’m not even sure who’s seducing who anymore.

  I straddle him, my right knee sinking a little into the space under the backrest of the couch. His hand is between us, angling his throbbing member up until it rests at my entrance.

  “Are you ready?” I ask, putting some downward pressure there, swiveling my hips around a little to wet the head of his rod with my juices.

  He’s breathing hard, his hands on my hips. “Yessss,” he hisses out as he lifts his hips and simultaneously presses down on mine with his hands, impaling me beautifully on his spike.

  Our rhythms are perfectly matched. I squeeze his stiffness strongly as I come up, using my muscles to grip him tight and draw his juices out of him. And then I relax them as I come down, making it possible for me to take him all the way in, all the way to the hilt. I finish at the bottom, rubbing my nub in circles on the base of his rod.

  The pace is slow at first, but as the blood rushes in and my lips swell with the heat, and as his moans and grunts grow louder and more frequent, I can feel the tension building and the pleasure growing.

  I move faster, needing to speed towards the end, now that I can feel it coming for us. I’m so close, I can’t think rationally anymore. Sweat is rolling down my back, and I can smell the sweet scent of our sex rising up from where we are joined.

  He yells out, sitting up and taking me into his arms as he pumps himself up into me from below.

  I ride him hard, digging my nails into his shoulders, slamming myself down onto him. Grinding against his hardness, the dam finally breaks, and all that passion drowns me, sending me someplace else downriver.

  I’m flying over the top of the rapids, but I’m not worried about drowning. He’s holding me tight, and we’re just floating - floating in the sensations of really damn good sex, had while I’m wearing red stilettos in a Paris shoe store.

  When I can’t go any longer because my sensitive spots have become too sensitive, I move to get off of him.

  He holds me tighter. “Wait. Don’t go yet.” He pulls me down for a kiss. It’s not like the others this time; it’s more tender. Softer. Caring.

  “Thank you,” he says, tugging on my bottom lip a little before licking it.

  “Thank you.” I kiss him once quickly before getting up. I step out of the shoes and look around on the floor for my clothes. The heady delusions brought on by our passion begin to fade, and now I just feel a little awkward. He said a bunch of things in the heat of the moment that I’m sure he didn’t mean, and I don’t want him to start making up excuses about how he can’t go through with it, or worse - pretend he never said it. I rush to get dressed.

  “Well,” I say when I’ve got all my clothes on again, “I really need to get going. Thanks so much for showing me around and for… this. This evening. I mean, I’m never going to forget it.”

  He freezes in the middle of buttoning up his shirt. “Wait a minute. What?”

  “Um, what do you mean, what?”

  He abandons getting dressed and walks over to me, taking my hands in his. “What do you mean, you need to get going? Where? I thought you didn’t have plans yet.” He sounds hurt.

  “Well, I do. I mean, I didn’t, but I should. I don’t now, but I should.” I sigh heavily and hang my head. “I’m sorry. I’m just a little confused now.”

  He lifts my chin with his finger and kisses me tenderly on the lips. “Please don’t go. Not without me, anyway. And not without those red shoes.” He gestures at the mess we made on the floor with the boxes and paper.

  “I can’t buy those shoes, I already told you.”

  “I’m buying them for you. And the leopard ones, too. I want to see them on you outside.”

  I gasp. “I can’t let you do that!” He’s talking about shoes that have the same value as my used Corolla.

  “Why not? Are you married?” He steps back, sounding suspicious.

  “No, of course I’m not married. Would I have done this with you if I were?” I can’t believe he would think that of me. I cross my arms, a little offended.

  “No,” he says, pulling me to him, forcing me to hug him back. “I didn’t really think that. But I can’t imagine any other reason why you’d say I can’t buy these for you. They’re a gift. You can wear them out to dinner tomorrow when I take you out.”

  “You’re not serious,” I say, looking over his shoulder at the dark wall.

  He sighs and lets me go. Striding over to the lights, he reaches them and flicks them on. “Look at me,” he says as he comes back to stand in front of me.

  I stare into his eyes. He’s as serious as I’ve ever seen him.

  “I mean this. I want you to spend the week with me. Let me show you this town and then the small villages near my winery. It’s a magical place. You’ve never seen anything like it, I guarantee it.”

  “But why? Why would you go to all that trouble just for me?”

  He frowns. “You’re a funny girl, Lilly Rose. I would think the answer to that question is pretty damn obvious.”

  “Well, it’s not. Not to me.” Doubts are attacking me from every front. This can’t be real. This doesn’t happen to girls like me. It’s a joke, a trick, a hallucination.

  “Do I need to spell it out for you?” he asks, leaning down and kissing me again.

  It makes me dizzy it’s so sweet.

  “Yes,” I whisper, “spell it out for me.”

  “Paris is the city of love. Don’t you believe in love at first sight?”

  I smile. And then I laugh. I tip my head back with it, not really believing I heard those words coming out of his mouth.

  “What? Why’s that so funny?” he asks.

  I squeeze him hard to me, answering over his shoulder. “It’s not funny. It’s wonderful. I do believe in it. I just never thought it could happen to me.”

  “Me neither. But I’ve learned one thing about myself over the years: When something takes you like this… sweeps you off your feet and sends you to another place, even when i
t doesn’t make any sense, you just have to go with it and see where it will take you.”

  I pull away and look into his eyes. He totally means it; I can tell.

  “I like your attitude.” I smile like a lunatic. I’m so happy right now. This feels right. It feels crazy, but it feels right all the way to my bones.

  “Then say you’ll stay with me.” He brushes a stray hair away from my face, kissing the spot where it used to be. “Let me spoil you. Let me treat you like a queen while you’re here in France.”

  I nod once, my decision made with the ease of a true adventurer. “Okay, fine. I’ll do it.”

  He picks me up and swings me in a big circle. I whoop with laughter over not only the tickling sensations in my stomach, but also the tingling that feels suspiciously like love as it works its way into my heart.

  Author’s Note - Kandi Kayne

  It’s been a blast writing this story, and I sincerely appreciate your readership. If you have the time, I’d love to have you review the book on Amazon.com and Goodreads.com. Help more readers find me and the other great authors at Orly Press by sharing your thoughts and opinions! Oh, and please don’t forget to stop by my Facebook page. I adore chatting with my readers. xoxo

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Kandi Kayne is the author of the erotic romance series Red Hot Rose, featuring Rose DuPont and Alex Blackstone, and she has several other series in the works to be published in 2013. She’s an American girl and bona fide book fanatic residing in various places including New York, California, Florida, and Paris. She writes wherever she happens to be at the time, and her laptop is never far from her side. She is married to the sexiest man to ever wear a kilt and has three children who have no idea she writes erotic romances novels for a living.

  Story #4

  Falling Away

  by Mimi Strong

  She nearly turned around and left the salon when she realized who was going to cut her hair. Over the phone, she’d mis-heard the name as Andrea, and had not been expecting a man, let alone a dashingly handsome one with silver hair and bright, blue eyes.

  “I’m Andrew,” he said, reaching to shake her hand. His palm was as warm as his tone, as wide as his smile, and as hot as skin could be. She’d not felt the warmth of a man’s touch in many years, and the heat coursed through her body, fanning the pilot light she’d thought blown out years ago, along with the light in her eyes.