Anthology - Threefold

by Desiree Holt

  “Doing what?” she asked, innocence added to the playful tone of her voice.

  “Just keeping faith,” they answered in unison. “Just keeping faith.”

  About the Author

  Kris sees herself as somewhat obsessive and feels she tends to push the limits sometimes. But her friends graciously see her as passionate and adventurous. After all, speed limits are only guidelines and shouting is just her way of rising above the chaos. Besides, she thinks the air is cleaner out there on the edge.

  Kris started writing erotic stories a few years ago, but didn’t try putting them out into the real world until recently. She loves penning independent leading ladies who aren’t afraid to kick a bit of butt, especially when it only fuels the desires of their men. But of course, it wouldn’t be any fun if the men didn’t get to play… Most of her stories involve elements of suspense and quite often have a downright creepy villain lurking in the shadows. But all the better to get the hero’s protective instincts going. After all, Kris still loves having a knight ride to the rescue…

  Email: contactme@krisnorris.ca

  Kris loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.

  Also by Kris Norris

  Dark Prophecy: Sacred Talisman

  ‘Til Death: Deadly Vision

  ‘Til Death: Deadly Obsession

  Christmas Crackers: Centrefold

  Enchanted Lovers: Healing Hands

  BETWEEN A AND Z

  Suzanne Graham

  Dedication

  To GRRWG, the best damn writers group in the world.

  Thanks for the challenge to write more consistently.

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Facebook: Facebook Inc.

  Oreos: Nabisco, Inc.

  Chapter One

  “Mia! C’mon. What’s taking you so long?” Mia’s best friend, Shirle, yelled from the doorway of the sculpting studio. “Put down the tools and take a step back from that mountain of clay. You’ve been at it all day. It’s Friday night. Time to party.”

  “Just a minute!” Mia called back. She rested her hands on the shoulders of the life-sized clay man in front of her and stared at his featureless face. “Show me your face,” she whispered. “I’ll stay here all night with you if you’ll just show me your face.”

  Sometimes, she felt like she could hear him talking to her inside her head, but tonight he was quiet. She refused to analyse the mental health issues that hearing voices in her head could signify. Rather, she chose to focus on how she’d gotten more emotionally involved with this sculpture than anything she’d ever done before. She knew in her gut this was going to be one of the most special pieces in her body of work.

  Squinting, she peered closer at the clay where his face should be, but she saw nothing to indicate how his eyes, nose or mouth should look. “You’re not ready to come out yet, are you?” she asked the lifeless form. “Fine, then I’m going dancing. I’ll be back tomorrow if you feel like showing up…if I don’t get lucky tonight.”

  She pulled the plastic cover over her clay man, wiped her tools clean, and clicked off her work lamp before joining Shirle at the door.

  “Girl, we’ve got to hurry if we’re going to make you party-presentable by eight.”

  Shirle grabbed Mia’s wrist and dragged her out of the studio.

  Mia cast a final look over her shoulder at her latest project. She’d dubbed him Adam, because he was the first man she’d ever created. Most of her work had been female torsos with their curves and soft lines, but a few months ago her muse became adamant that it was time for her to produce a man. Though, she might have been confusing her surging libido with her artistic muse.

  She’d been abstinent for nearly a year, but not because of any kind of premeditated plan. She’d been finding it hard to meet any men who met her criteria. She wasn’t especially selective, but the pickings over the past year had been slim to none.

  Tonight was Shirle’s attempt to end Mia’s long dry spell and give her vibrator a night off. Shirle had organised a huge gathering of artists, actors and musicians from her Facebook

  connections, specifically sending the call out to all the straight, single men in the Chicagoland area. It was unofficially being called the Break Mia’s Abstinence Bash.

  Mia would have been more embarrassed if she wasn’t so damn horny. She really hoped she’d meet someone appropriate for a weekend of hot sex. She wasn’t looking for the long-term happily-ever-after. She wasn’t sure that would ever exist for her. At thirty years old, she’d given up the idea of settling down. She’d be perfectly satisfied with finding a happy-for-right-now man to get her needs met.

  “I’m driving. Leave your car here,” Shirle said.

  “How am I going to get back to the studio in the morning if I leave my car here?”

  Shirle stared at her then rolled her eyes. “Girl, you’re not going to be thinking of working your cold, wet clay in the morning. If my plan works, you’ll be having hot, wet sex until you’re too limp to raise your arms.”

  “We can only hope,” Mia said, sliding down into the passenger seat of Shirle’s little compact car.

  “I’ve got more planned than just hoping,” Shirle said with a secretive smile.

  Mia groaned. “You’re not going to embarrass me more than you already have with your emails, Facebook posts and blogging, are you? Please tell me you aren’t going to do anything crazy at the party.”

  “I’m not saying anything, but trust me. This will be a night to record in your memoir.”

  “Great. Can’t wait,” Mia said with sarcasm, but she couldn’t ignore the flutter in her gut at the prospect of meeting some eligible men. She found it hard to quench her optimism even as she promised herself to be more of a realist.

  Shirle drove to Mia’s house so Mia could shower and change into the party clothes Shirle had chosen from a trashy-looking website. They’d had a minor skirmish over the inappropriateness of clothing Mia’s full breasts and curvy hips in a strappy dress with a plunging neckline and exposed back. But when Mia opened the package and tried the dress on for the first time, she’d stared at her reflection in the mirror, amazed. The soft material had draped her body, revealing provocative expanses of skin while it hid her rounded belly.

  She’d never felt so sexy in her life.

  Now Shirle applied Mia’s makeup with an expert’s touch. Mia had been afraid Shirle’s years of experience with stage makeup would mean Mia would have to wipe off the excess before she left her apartment, but Shirle gave Mia a sultry look without smutting her up too much.

  Mia wanted to put her hair up so she wouldn’t get too hot while dancing, but Shirle insisted she keep her curly brown hair loose around her shoulders.

  “If I wasn’t so grateful for your help, I’d be pissed at your bossiness,” Mia said.

  She walked to the full-length mirror on the back of the closet door and examined the results of her makeover. The teal colour of the dress made her hazel eyes look greener, and her skin looked like it glowed with healthy colour instead of her usual blinding whiteness from spending so much time inside with her clay projects. “Holy smokes, Batman. You’re a miracle worker.”

  “Thank you, Girl Wonder. Now it’s up to you to blow away this finely selected group of men.”

  “Finely selected? Bullshit!” Mia laughed. “You sent out an open call to all the straight men in a fifty mile radius and beyond.”

  Shirle shrugged, her face lit with a bright grin. “Gotta do what I gotta do to help my friend in need.”

  Mia turned to look over shoulder in the mirror at the spaghetti straps crisscrossing her back. “I’m way too overdressed for The Barn,” she said.

  “It’s a party in your honour. You’re allowed to be the fanciest dressed one there,”

 
Shirle said as she smoothed her clingy black tank top over her denim miniskirt while checking over her own image.

  “C’mon. Let’s go find me a one-night stand,” Mia said, grabbing Shirle’s hand.

  Shirle drove through the neighbouring suburb to The Barn while Mia fidgeted with the straps on her high-heeled shoes.

  “I hope I can dance in these things,” she said.

  “If you’re doing it right, you’ll be clinging to the man you’re with and won’t have to worry about taking too many steps,” Shirle said, pulling into the lot at the bar.

  A large sign, labelled Virgin, reserved a parking space near the front door.

  “Was that your idea?” Mia squealed as Shirle claimed the empty spot. “How ridiculous at thirty to be labelled a virgin, and it’s not even true.”

  Shirle giggled. “I didn’t do it, but I wish I had thought of it.”

  Mia swatted Shirle’s arm and laughed. “Thanks for nothing.”

  “Time to get you laid,” Shirle said, getting out of the car.

  Mia opened her door and turned in her seat to put both feet on the ground, trying to prevent an accidental flashing in her short skirt.

  “May I help you?” A deep, rumbling voice asked as a hand reached for her arm.

  It became clear in that moment how desperate she’d become when the mere sound of the man’s voice could make her insides melt. Then she looked up at the most beautiful male she’d ever seen. His head was shaved smooth, and his high cheekbones and square jaw line under polished bronzed skin sent her pulse dancing. Her sculptor fingers tingled with the desire to run over his features before attempting a bronze bust of his head.

  When she finally met his eyes, he flashed her a smile, his teeth a bright contrast against his dark skin.

  “May I help?” he repeated.

  Realising she was sitting half in and half out of the car, she nodded. “Thank you.”

  He eased her up with one hand under her forearm and the other slid around her back.

  Even in her heels, the top of her head barely met the bottom of his jaw. She stood close to his broad chest, covered in a black silk shirt, and breathed in his spicy scent, which smelled more like food spices than cologne. Tall, good-looking and he smelled delicious.

  Could her luck be turning around this fast?

  “So, are you the virgin?” he asked.

  She groaned. For a moment, she’d forgotten the sign as she’d lost herself in his sensual assault. “It’s a joke from my friends, but yes, it’s for me.”

  The overhead light from the front door reflected in his deep brown eyes. “You must be Mia.”

  “And you must have gotten the email, Facebook invitation or stumbled across Shirle’s blog,” she said.

  “Actually, no. I overheard the waiters in my restaurant talking about this party.”

  “And you decided to show up to try your luck at getting in my pants?”

  He glanced down the front of her dress. “I believe you mean under your skirt. But that’s not why I came.”

  Great, the first guy she meets tonight, who sets her blood on fire, isn’t into women or at least, not her type of woman.

  “So, what brought you here?” she asked.

  “A challenge.”

  She raised a brow in silent question.

  “When I asked my waiters where the party was being held, they told me I wouldn’t be interested because it was a country bar with line dancing,” he said.

  “Why didn’t they think you would be interested?” It was true the white guys significantly outnumbered the black ones at The Barn, but she didn’t want to assume that was the reason behind the waiters’ comment.

  “I guess they haven’t seen too many French chefs line dancing around here.”

  “So you only came because you want to show them you can dance?” she asked.

  He shrugged with a self-deprecating smile. “Initially, but I’m feeling my motivation has taken a major change in direction.”

  “To where?”

  “To your side. Will you dance with me?” he asked.

  She’d been wrong. He was interested in her. Feeling like a giddy teenager, she wanted to squeal and jump into his arms. He liked her, and she really liked what she saw of him, especially if he could cook. She was enough of a disaster in the kitchen to truly appreciate cooking skills in others.

  “Can we get a beer first?” she asked, hoping to drown some of her girlish nerves with an adult beverage.

  “Bottle or tap?” he asked.

  “Bottle,” she said.

  “Local or imported?”

  “Imported.”

  “Heineken,” he said.

  She laughed. “Yeah. Good guesswork.”

  “I’m ready when you are,” he said.

  Oh, she was definitely ready for him, but he was motioning to the front door of the bar. She turned to locate Shirle, but she wasn’t anywhere in sight. She must have ditched Mia when she saw her talking to this great-looking guy.

  “Can I get your name since you already know mine?” she asked.

  “I’m sorry. I’m Zed Taylor.” He offered his hand to shake.

  Their hands looked like yin and yang curled together, the dark and the light. She imagined their naked bodies entwined, and a rush of warm wetness dampened her panties.

  “Mia Nichols, but you already know that,” she said.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “So, where do you and your waiter friends work?”

  “I’m the head chef at Nouvelle Cuisine. Do you know the place?”

  “Small servings, artfully arranged?” she asked.

  “Some, but I also cook a magnificent pot roast with rosemary garlic mashed potatoes.

  And I bet I could impress you with my desserts.”

  “Ah, now you’re speaking my language,” she said.

  “May I buy you a beer so we can speak some more?”

  “Yes, please.”

  He guided her into the bar with one of his large, warm hands on her lower back. She loved the feel of his possessiveness on her body. She was especially pleased with his size. She actually felt petite next to him, instead of feeling like an Amazon like she sometimes did with smaller men.

  Zed walked to the bar with the incredibly sexy woman he’d just met in the parking lot. The dress she wore gave him enough hints about her lush figure that he couldn’t wait to see it all. She also had a good sense of humour to subject herself to tonight’s intense teasing from her friends. He hoped she would give him more time to get to know her better.

  When he got the bartender’s attention, he ordered a Heineken for Mia and a shot of Tequila for himself. Her eyebrows rose as she tilted her head slightly away from him.

  “A shot for courage,” he said.

  “For the dancing challenge or for talking to me?” she asked.

  “Both.”

  “I thought you said you could dance.”

  “I haven’t done it in awhile.”

  “Well, you don’t need courage as far as I’m concerned.” She gestured for him to lean closer. “I’m a sure thing.” Then she pulled his head down and pressed her lips to his. Her tongue darted out and caressed his lower lip before she lightly sucked it into her mouth.

  She kissed boldly, which allowed him to relax and not have to worry about scaring her. Some women were intimidated by his bald head and large physique, but Mia seemed to have no problems with his looks.

  Her tongue shot deeper into his mouth, teasing him with feathery swipes. He responded by sucking gently to arrest her movements. Then he plunged his tongue into her mouth, demonstrating what he’d like to do to other parts of her.

  Damn, she was making him hot. He grabbed her butt with his hands and pulled her tight to him. His hardening cock pressed against her soft belly. A moan escaped from the back of her throat. He captured it with his mouth still over hers. She clutched his biceps.

  A few wolf whistles finally seeped into his consciousness. He
reluctantly broke contact with her silky lips and took a deep breath. His head felt light from the after-effects of the sudden rush of blood to his lower region.

  “How would your friends react if you left your party early?” he asked. “Like immediately.”

  “If they’re my friends, they’ll be ecstatic. That was the whole point of this night,” she said. “But what about the challenge from your waiters?”

  He glanced around the crowded room. “I see two of them at the end of the bar. Will you give me a dance, and then we can leave?” he asked.

  “Definitely.”

  “Let me go tell them I’m here.”

  With his long-legged stride he reached the other side of the bar, clued his friends in on his upcoming dance debut, and returned to her. Hopefully, before she could change her mind.

  “Are you almost done with that?” he asked, pointing at her bottle of beer.

  “Yes, then we can dance the next song.” She tossed back her head as she downed the rest of her beer.

  After she set the bottle on the bar, she took an unsteady step towards the dance floor.

  Zed grabbed her around the waist and chuckled as she swayed on her feet.

  “Are you a light drinker?” he asked.

  “On an empty stomach, yes,” she said.

  “Then I’m going to have to feed you when we leave here,” he said. “I want tonight to be a clear memory for you.”

  “You want to cook for me?”

  “Yes.”

  “You really like to cook?”

  He grinned. “Yes, it’s my profession, remember? I love to cook.”

  “This is the beginning of a beautiful relationship. You love to cook, I hate to cook, and I love to eat. Will you marry me?” Her eyes widened, and she slapped a hand over her mouth.

  His grin expanded as he tightened his arm around her waist.