by Sahara Kelly
He did hear Lissa’s heart racing. He heard her breath, and the sound of her hair as it flowed over his hand.
Her lips were soft, parting readily to welcome his hungry tongue. Steve damn near devoured her on the spot, desperate to taste her once more, to know that she was really in his embrace, breasts squashed against his shirt, writhing as he plundered her mouth.
His arms tightened and he lifted her clean off her feet, tearing his lips from hers. “Well, Lissa?”
She was still crying, but she was laughing, too. “Put me down, you bastard. Yes, I’ve missed you beyond words. Missed your smile. Missed your teasing.” She leaned to his ear. “And missed a very important part of you.”
He grinned. “It missed you, too. Been moping around for weeks. Couldn’t get interested in anything, even the cat.”
“You don’t have a cat.”
He squeezed her. “I do now. And an apartment, and an interview for a new job close by.”
She laughed again then looked around, realizing they were the focus of the entire room. “Steve, put me down.” She wriggled.
“Uh-uh.”
“Steve…”
He shifted her weight, but kept her feet off the floor. “I’m not risking it. You’ll run away again and I’m gonna have to spend more miserable hours digging around trying to trace you.” He cupped her ass as he held her. “I have better things in mind for our future.”
“I…” She opened her mouth to argue, but he stopped her with another savage kiss.
Finally, she pulled back. “Okay.”
Steve wondered if his face would split from the width of his smile. He walked the length of the room, past blurred faces, some laughing, a couple wiping their eyes and most everybody applauding enthusiastically.
One older woman was unashamedly sobbing. “It’s just like my favorite movie.” She blew her nose loudly.
Steve just kept smiling and heading for the exit. At the end, Susan stood, grinning from ear to ear and holding open the heavy glass door. “You found her, then.”
He grinned back. “Yep.” He stopped and turned. “And in case there’s any question…” He raised his voice. “Ms. Henderson just called in sick.”
The room erupted into chaos, and the noise of cheering, whistling and thunderous applause followed Steve as he carried Lissa out of Dickens and Barrow, Statisticians, away from the constraints of the “normal” world, and into the elevator.
“So are you really a gynecologist?” Lissa asked.
“Just practicing. I’m actually a newspaper writer.”
He set Lissa on her feet in front of him. “Well, where do we go from here? Up or down?”
More faces stared in at them from the foyer as the doors began to close. Lissa giggled, that sexy giggle that made his balls ache. She dropped to her knees, lowering his zipper. “We’re going down.”
The End
If you enjoyed this contemporary bit of fun and are now contemplating filling the tank of your sedan, renting a camper and heading off into the hills to find excitement and unbridled lust, then you might enjoy taking the two other contemporary erotic romance novels with you on your Kindle reader. This in no way implies that you might not meet a wonderful man and have amazing sex on your personal road trip, just that there may be a one or two times when you need a break. And what better than a great read?
This excerpt is from Love Under The Lights, and is definitely for the over eighteen crowd. It unites an unlikely couple – a woman who takes the only option to keep herself afloat financially, and a man who thought he’d burned out on women, nudity and the world of adult movies.
Life is about to surprise them both…
EXCERPT
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LOVE UNDER THE LIGHTS
S.L. Carpenter and Sahara Kelly
Toni was surprised at how quickly she’d been given an appointment with Bud Yarborough, the director and owner of Four Coin Productions. Apparently Suze had more than a little clout with him, because Toni’s phone call mentioning Suze’s name had resulted in a visit to his office that same afternoon. Armed with a folder containing the papers she’d been instructed to bring—her medical record, birth certificate, and so on—she’d arrived promptly.
And to her surprise, it looked like any other office. Filing cabinets, a laptop, a couple of empty coffee cups and messy files and papers everywhere.
Bud Yarborough wasn’t flashy, like she’d expected, but a quite casual man in his fifties perhaps, dressed in an open necked shirt and jeans. He shook Toni’s hand firmly and introduced Henry Adams, who he said was his casting director.
“And he’s quite interested in meeting you, Ms Sinclair.” Bud waved her to an empty chair. “It’s not often Suze recommends anybody at all. You certainly impressed her.” His eyes took stock of her body. “And I can see why.”
Henry Adams nodded. “Quite lovely, Ms Sinclair. But I expect you’re used to hearing it.”
Toni blushed. “I don’t know what to say to that.”
Bud chuckled. “Smart too.” He glanced at Henry and they exchanged nods. “So far so good. Would you take your clothes off, please?”
The request was calm and casual.
Toni gulped. “Here?”
“Yes please.” Bud scrawled himself a note as Henry took a call on his cell phone.
Sheesh. Toni didn’t know whether to be relieved or pissed that they weren’t paying more attention.
This was it. She had to do this. She could do this. If not—well, the alternatives were even worse.
She stood and told herself she was in a doctor’s office. It was all clinical. All about business. That lasted about ten seconds as her willpower dropped to the floor with her white blouse and her best silk skirt.
Beneath, she’d worn her precious lace lingerie, a peach tinged froth that had cost her a week’s paycheck back in the days when she could manage to spend a week’s paycheck on herself.
Quality always paid off, though. The bra and bikini panties might be old, but they still looked fresh and stylish. To Toni’s eyes, anyway.
“And the underwear, please.” Bud flicked his fingers at her lace, glancing briefly at her before returning to his notes.
Damned heathens. No appreciation for the finer things in life.
“Hoookay then. Here goes nothing.”
Toni unclasped the bra and let it fall, then eased the elastic of her panties down over her hips, lifting her legs one at a time to step out of them.
She was embarrassed, struggling against the urge to cover herself in that pose so beloved of sculptors, and scared shitless to look at either man.
There was a thick silence for a moment or two as she stood in the office, buck naked, waiting for—what? Something. A cough. A sneeze. A gasp of wonder at her nude body?
Nah. Not gonna happen.
“Would you turn around slowly, Ms Sinclair?” Henry Adams snapped his cell phone shut and looked at her. “Now walk across the room and back?”
That took all of three steps. But by God they were the longest steps Toni had ever taken. As she twisted around and headed back to the desk, she couldn’t help but see the men’s eyes roaming over her.
To give them both credit, they took stock of everything—from her short black shiny hair to her calves and her toes—not lingering with undue attention on anything in between.
“Very nice indeed. You have a unique skin tone, Ms. Sinclair.” Bud smiled. “I’m guessing your heritage is…” His gaze lifted to her eyes. “Well, I admit I’m not quite sure.”
Toni chuckled. “I believe my father was from Haiti. Or possibly the Dominican Republic. To be honest, I’m not quite sure. My mother was never too forthcoming when it came to that particular discussion. He left before I was born.”
Henry smiled sympathetically. “I quite understand.” He stood and moved around Toni. “If your skin photographs as well as I think it might, you’ll be a very welcome addition to our roster, Ms Sinclair.”
“Really?” Ton
i blinked. “Don’t you want me to say some lines or something?”
Bud lifted an eyebrow. “My dear, this isn’t repertory theater. We’re not doing Shakespeare here.”
Henry was struggling to hold in a laugh. “Oh I dunno, Bud. We did Midsummer Night’s Cream, didn’t we?”
Buy LOVE UNDER THE LIGHTS for your
Kindle/Kindle reader app or with your Kindle Unlimited membership
HERE.
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And of course, there is the other novel in this series… LOVE IN THE CARDS. Although these tales are not sequential, Scott and Sahara always sort of look at this one as the first…it’s the shortest, a lot of fun, and was one of those books when everything fell perfectly into place.
And then there’s the ending. Yes, the two authors still get emails to this day and the original tale was released back in 2006 or so. They refuse to apologize, but enjoy the creative wording their readers unleash on them from time to time.
EXCERPT
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LOVE IN THE CARDS
S.L. Carpenter and Sahara Kelly
“Hit me.”
It occurred to Maggie French that a casino was one of the few places in the world where a woman could say those words and not worry about the results. She rested her arms on the leather edge of the blackjack table and watched as the dealer flipped two cards onto the pair of eights she’d doubled down.
“Lookin’ good.” The man grinned at her, showing white teeth beneath a dark moustache.
A ten and a four. Not bad. Her brain whirred through the possibilities as she sipped her soda casually.
She’d stand on the eighteen. She tapped the four with a short, unvarnished fingernail and was rewarded for her patience with a nine. Niiiice.
Now all she had to do was wait until the other three players had made their calls, see what the dealer drew, and with any luck she’d be up a couple hundred dollars more.
He turned the cards with ease, his large hands caressing the little squares of cardboard with consummate skill. His nametag said “Donnie”, but his short haircut screamed military, as did the unwavering confidence and control he radiated from behind the table.
She fidgeted a little on her chair. Too much soda along with an earlier margarita filled her bladder, and those enchiladas she’d had for lunch were making their presence known by bubbling in her ass. She squeezed her butt tight against a fart, crossed her legs to hold in her kidneys and figured she probably looked like an accordion being squished by an enthusiastic amateur musician.
But these inconveniences were minor and she put them out of her mind. Because Maggie French was, before anything else, a gambler.
Not that anyone would know it to look at her—no indeed. A quietly dressed woman in clean blue jeans, white shirt unbuttoned over a pale blue tank top and minimal jewelry. Her brunette hair wasn’t anything out of the ordinary and her makeup little more than a dash of lipstick, some mascara and the inevitable moisturizer. It could be desert dry at times, so she indulged in a good brand every now and again. But that was as far as she went. She blended in with the general rabble thronging the tables and that was just the way she liked it.
She laughed and cheered with the rest of the table when the dealer bust out, scooping up her chips with all the enthusiasm of a suburban housewife on bingo night. And truthfully, it was a thrill. Small potatoes, a couple of fifty dollar chips and four twenty-five dollar ones, but it was a win.
And winning was what it was all about.
Whether at Trivial Pursuit—she was good at it unless the category was “sports”— Monopoly, which she occasionally lost unless she had all four railroad stations, thumb wars or any card game ever invented, Maggie played to win.
When she’d discovered poker, Maggie discovered heaven. The cards seemed to fit her hands perfectly, her mind grasped the concepts with the instant familiarity of an old friend and she loved the shapes and colors that danced from the deck.
And that was why she was sitting in the casino of the Last Resort, holding in several bodily functions, and exchanging grins with a seventy-year-old grandmother who’d probably just doubled her Social Security check for the week.
Maggie was going to win the poker championship and go home with half a million dollars.
There wasn’t a doubt in her mind.
“Lady, you’ve either just hit a big jackpot or you’ve gotta pee real bad.” An amused voice sounded from behind her and Maggie turned in surprise to find herself face-to-chest with a patron of the casino who’d been standing at her back during the last hand.
And fuck it, he was too damn observant. She relaxed a little. He wouldn’t have a clue who she was. “Nice guess, Mister. I really do need the little girls’ room.” She glanced back at the dealer and nodded her thanks, tossing a chip across the table and sliding off the stool.
“Hey, Miss.” Donnie was pushing something across the table. “Here. Enjoy a drink on the house. Tell the bartender I comped you.”
“I—well, thanks. Thanks, Donnie. That’s very kind of you.” Maggie picked up the chit.
“My pleasure. You’ve got a nice smile.”
“Don’t I have a nice smile?” The older guy a couple of seats away from Maggie whined plaintively.
“You, sir, have a blackjack. That’s even better.” Donnie the dealer went back to his game and Maggie moved away.
Blocking her from leaving, the stranger stood motionless. “You ever see Niagara Falls? The water just runs on and on. Sort of like a dripping faucet. You know…drip, trickle, drip. Always made me feel like going to the bathroom myself.” He had a shit-eating grin on his face, watching her squirm. “Oh sorry. Am I in your way?”
“Another verse of ‘Singin’ In The Rain’ and we’ll have golden showers, so move.”
“Well, when you’re done, you want to fill up again by having a drink with me?”
She sized him up. Not too tall, but clean-shaven and with shiny brown hair that was a tad longer than it needed to be, something that Maggie found appealing. He was flashing her a nice smile, wearing tidy clothes…he looked about as threatening as a happy golden retriever. Awww…what the hell. He might try to hump her leg but he seemed harmless. They were in a public place, surrounded by crowds of gamblers and in all likelihood there was more security than at the White House. A drink couldn’t hurt, right? She needed something to take the edge off before tomorrow’s game began.
“That sounds good. Thanks. I’ll meet you at the bar?”
“Sure.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “You gonna run out on me? It’s not like we’ve been introduced or anything. And it’s just a drink. We can wait to pick out curtains in the morning.”
The challenge in his words and the teasing expression got to her and she smiled back. “Nope. My name’s Maggie and I’m not running out. I’m going to pee and then I’ll be back. Okay?”
He grinned. “Okay.”
Shit. He’s got a helluva cute smile.
“And wash your hands, Maggie.” He looked sternly at her.
She couldn’t help it. She laughed. What a cute idiot. And then hurried off before the silent fart that finally escaped made its presence known.
Buy LOVE IN THE CARDS for your
Kindle/Kindle reader app or with your Kindle Unlimited membership
HERE.
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
S.L. Carpenter and Sahara Kelly began their writing collaboration going on fifteen years ago. It was unexpected, since they live about as far away from each other as it’s possible to get in the USA without getting your feet wet. But it worked.
Since then, they’ve explored a wide and colorful variety of subjects, and written stories that entertain, amuse, and sometimes astound their readers. One thing will always be a part of their writing—that touch of humor. Sometimes unexpected, sometimes blatant, both Scott. and Sahara believe that laughter is essential, especially when it comes to sex. Because sex is, without a doubt,
one of the funniest activities humans engage in on a regular basis. If one excludes salmon tossing, of course. If you’d like to find out a bit more about these two strangely charming and absurdly attractive people (one of whom is writing this paragraph) then you can check the websites below and satisfy your curiosity about their books.
Sahara suggests you subscribe to her newsletter. It’s available without charge, and free is always good. Plus she won’t pepper your inbox with incessant political opinions, recipes or pictures of their cats. (Link below). And it’s worth noting that if you enjoyed the stories you just read, you’ll absolutely want to follow these two authors on Amazon, since they are currently at work on more fun projects, and you don’t want to miss the latest news or release schedules, do you? We didn’t think so!
Website: S.L. Carpenter
Where you can find out more about S.L. Carpenter, his books, his art and his off-the-wall observations on life, baseball and rubber chickens. (The fundamental components of happiness—as we all know so well.) He has quite a few single titles available and encourages you to check them out if you haven’t already.
You may subscribe to Scott’s Amazon Page here and his author page on Facebook here. Both good places to keep up with his slightly twisted and funny look at life!
Website: Sahara Kelly
This is where Sahara Kelly shares none of the intimate details of her life, but will present you with a list of books she’d like you to buy so that she can go do research on a beach in Aruba and be pampered with massages and drinks with umbrellas in them. She’ll send you a postcard. Thank you.
You can get on Sahara’s newsletter list here and see what she’s blogging about here. It usually has nothing to do with her books. Refreshing, huh? Oh, and don’t forget to follow her at Amazon.com here.
