The Mammoth Book of Hot Romance

by Sonia Florens

  “I …” Her voice trailed off.

  “Simple: either we have free will – which is something the angels are said not to have – or none of us are serving the Powers That Be.”

  She shook her head. “That can’t be right. Not having free will doesn’t mean we don’t make choices on our own.”

  “Ah! But it does. It implies that our choices come from a Higher Poer, Divine Will. See? It’s the ultimate paradox, isn’t it?”

  All Aliyael could do was laugh. “Well, I guess it’s the Will of the Powers That Be that you be brought back, or I wouldn’t be here.” She grinned at him. “Maybe this was the opportunity for you to see how the other half lives, so to speak. I don’t know.”

  “And to be honest, I rather like it.” Julael reached out and clasped her hand in his. “Tell me, what is it like for you, having your body turned into form and flesh while here?”

  The contact of his warm, smooth skin against hers did odd things to her insides, none of which was unpleasant. She cleared her throat. “I like tea. And I was right: you’re hitting on me, aren’t you?”

  “Is the question bad? Tell me, am I making you uncomfortable?”

  “No, but—”

  “It’s an experience the Powers That Be gave you, right? In allowing you to come here, take on physical form … have you been given any objections to it or what you do here?”

  His gaze locked with hers, and it took Aliyael all of her strength not to lose herself in his eyes. She struggled to reply. “Beyond not compromising the life or well-being of any human, acting with discretion …”

  “All right. And wouldn’t you say that your stay here is good? Enjoyable, even?”

  “Well, sure. But I—”

  “Then I don’t see what the fuss is all about.” Removing one of his hands from hers, he placed it on her cheek. Despite herself she closed her eyes, savouring the touch of his fingers.

  A million thoughts popped into her head. This is wrong, I need to leave. What am I doing here? Before she could attempt to remove his hand and leave the room, a most delightful sensation met her lips – the soft but firm pressure of his own lips. A ray of light cascaded through her, and her world exploded when his tongue entered her mouth.

  The pleasure became unbearable, and she broke away with a gasp.

  “What’s wrong? This isn’t harming you, is it?”

  Unable to bring herself to speak aloud, she shook her head.

  “This isn’t harming anyone else, is it?”

  She hesitated, fighting to think through the haze of joy still coursing through her. “No,” she said at last.

  Smiling, Julael stroked her cheek, the contact setting her skin ablaze. His fingers trailed down her face to her throat, her chest … Aliyael let loose a huge breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.

  “Then I still don’t see the problem.” He bent down and kissed the nape of her neck, and her gut clenched with desire. Her hands leaped up towards his head, her fingers tangling themselves in his hair. Teeth grazed her throat as he nibbled and sucked at the sensitive flesh. Her eyes rolled back into her head. What were these sensations? And how could she possibly deny them? The unfamiliar heat between her legs made her mad. What was Julael, and what sort of strange power did he have over her?

  With great care he removed her coat and began to unbutton her blouse. Every ounce of self-control ingrained in her had fled while a part of her stood on the outside, watching the entire scene in shock. When his thumb made slow circling movements around her nipple, Aliyael was glad for not having worn a bra. She often chose not to; she hated them. The silken touch of his fingers on her body brought noises to the back of her throat she had never made before and didn’t know she could.

  Moisture seeped between her legs, and a fire raged within her. Her hands sought comfort in his bare skin. The barrier of his clothing served but as a frustration. Fumbling with the fabric of his shirt, she reached underneath, sliding her hands over his bare chest. Skin on skin, and nothing but joy between them. Julael raised his arms and she yanked his shirt off, tossing it on the floor. She didn’t know where it landed, and she didn’t care.

  It started to dawn on her why humans believed in enjoying the comforts of the flesh, as she discovered she shared it. At one point, this idea would’ve frightened her. In the ecstasy of the moment, it received but a dim acknowledgment. All she wanted was to savour the sensation of his skin with her fingertips. A part of her concluded that all she was experiencing was some form of madness brought on by this wild, new thrill. She was bewitched, seduced by one of the fallen … how had she come to this?

  But these thoughts fled when his fingers trailed down from her breasts to her bare stomach, leaving a searing trail in their wake. Aliyael hissed, longing to feel his touch on her legs, her thighs, against the hot wetness inside of her … Oh those jeans, damn those jeans. All this silken skin, his body against hers, and too much fabric to be bothered with – they had to come off. As if he read her mind, Julael undid the top button of her jeans and pulled down the zipper. With both hands he began to slide them off, and instinct made her raise her hips to help him in their removal. Once the jeans were gone she lay on the bed, naked.

  She didn’t wear underwear either.

  Her gaze slid to the paintings around them. I wonder how you would paint something like this. She didn’t think anyone could. The delights of physical contact, hands and fingers and lips and tongue and body and skin … it was a whole other art. A different world of beauty. Then she looked at his hands, his elegant, long fingers against her skin, cream on chocolate. Gorgeous.

  Then she stared into his light, sky-blue eyes. Was there a devilish spark in them?

  He lowered his head and the delicious contact of his rough, wet tongue met the heat between her legs. A cry tore from her throat, and she arched her back, lifting her hips closer to the source of the bliss. Lips, mouth, tongue all over her swollen, sensitive clit. She could barely stand it. Clawing at the bed sheets beneath her, she drowned in the powerful sensations that shook her body and gave it a life she didn’t know existed.

  Holy, this is holy … How could one see anything but good come from such mutual delights? Why did she object to this earlier? If she had known …

  Something overwhelming, fast and potent slammed into her. She saw stars and light, gasping as he brought her to the brink and over the edge.

  But it wasn’t enough; inside she still ached. Aliyael reached out towards him, but he was already removing his jeans. She marvelled at the sight of his erection, hard and swollen once freed from the bondage of clothing. Her hands stroked its head, revelling in the texture.

  Julael groaned. “Damn you.”

  She couldn’t resist. “A little ironic coming from you, hm?”

  With a low growl, he grabbed her wrists with his hands and with a fierceness she wasn’t expecting, kissed her. Positioning himself between her legs, he found her soaking wet entrance and thrust himself inside of her. A mingling of pain and ecstasy pierced her, and she screamed. His chest against hers, his lips on hers, their hands clasped together, she couldn’t get enough of it. When she came again, she almost blacked out. They lay on the bed together, drenched in sweat and silent save for their breathing.

  I remembered to breathe, she thought with a smile.

  Hours, then days passed. Weeks, perhaps – Aliyael wasn’t certain. They talked over tea, kissed, laughed. One morning she turned towards Julael and stared at his profile in the sunlight.he could see the shine of his skin, but also see him glowing with an inner light as well.

  When he spoke his voice was quiet, measured. “I guessed it when you first showed up, I think. But I know now why you’re here.”

  “Oh?”

  “I get it now. At least, I think I do. If you can love, you can serve the Powers That Be. There is no other Divine Will.” He took her hand into his and squeezed it. “I think … I think I’m ready to come back now. But only for you, if you’re ready. I mean …
if you want.”

  She smiled, and handed him the parchment Loriel had given her.

  “What’s this?” He took it with trembling hands. When he finished reading it, he yelped. With a laugh, he picked up Aliyael and spun her around.

  “Guess who wants us to stay here and finish this art project I started?”

  Assigned to work as partners together. Oh, Light, I’m so glad. Her heart filled with such happiness she thought it would burst. Aliyael knew Loriel had pulled a few strings, but she didn’t know quite how many nor to what extent – and she never would’ve guessed staying here would be granted to them.

  Julael carried her into the bedroom and tossed her on to the bed. With a gleeful laugh, she pulled him close and gave him a passionate, heated kiss while she undid the buckle of his belt.

  He broke off their kiss with a gasp when her soft hands slid down towards his rapidly swelling member. “That isn’t very angelic of you.”

  “Is that a complaint?”

  “No, but I think I’ve corrupted you. This isn’t good.”

  “Oh, damn. There goes my halo.” Aliyael took him into her mouth, flicking her tongue on his hard shaft, delighting in the sounds he made when she gave him pleasure. Everything about him was a miracle. When he lay her on the bed afterwards and she felt the paradise of his lips and tongue all over her skin, she knew that the Powers That Be had chosen her for the assignment for very good reasons. She remembered the advice she had given Claire: “Follow your heart.”

  I guess it’s time to follow mine as well. Closing her eyes, she smiled and abandoned herself to ecstasy.

  In between the sessions of mutual bliss, Aliyael turned to him with a smile. “So what do you think, Jule,” she asked with a teasing tone, “is this by choice or Divine Will?”

  “Both.” He grinned. “And I’m fine with that.”

  “I guess I’m back, then. Congrats on finishing your assignment.”

  “I guess you are. And you’re quite welcome.”

  Fly by Night

  Selah March

  It’s possible to drive the fifteen hundred miles from Jacksonville, Florida to the tiny border town of Presidio, Texas in under twenty-four hours. That doesn’t make it a good idea.

  If you keep to the back roads and avoid most major cities, the trip will be longer, lonelier and more dangerous – also not a good idea. But when you’re skipping out on your loan-shark ex-boyfriend with a suitcase full of stolen cash, it’s the only way to go.

  Kate pulled into the outskirts of Presidio ten minutes ahead of the sunset. Just as her internet search had promised, the Big River Motel stood waiting for her by the side of the highway, and although she couldn’t see the bridge that crossed the Rio Grande into Mexico, she could smell the water flowing dark and dirty a mile or two away.

  Almost there.

  She reached for the large leather shoulder bag oasked seat beside her – a gift from Phillip on their first Christmas together and the only thing she hadn’t ditched along the way. She set her boots on the dusty surface of the otherwise empty parking lot. The overstuffed suitcase bumped solidly against her thigh as she walked through the front doors of the motel.

  “Can I see some identification?” the desk clerk asked when she requested a room for the night.

  Instead, she pushed a wad of $100 bills across the counter. She’d used the same tactic with a used car dealer in Alabama (where she’d traded her convertible for the beige sedan out front) and again in a pawnshop in Mississippi (where she’d sold her jewellery and picked up the small handgun and box of bullets that lay hidden beneath a single change of clothes in the bottom of her bag).

  It worked then, and it worked now. The clerk pocketed the cash and only asked under what name she wanted to register.

  “Katharine Hollis.” She liked the way it tasted so clean and strong on her tongue. It belonged to a woman who could hold her own in any situation.

  Ten minutes later, she stood in the shower of room 222 – the kind of room with a condom dispenser bolted to the wall above the toilet – and washed 500 miles’ worth of West Texas out of her hair. Her stomach grumbled for food that didn’t come from a vending machine. She wondered if she could risk a hot meal. If and when Phillip picked up her trail, would anyone recall details about a random brunette in a T-shirt and jeans? And did it matter? Especially considering the last time Phillip saw her, she was a blonde in designer beachwear.

  After she’d dried off and dressed, she peeked between the dust-coloured drapes and spied a roadhouse across the street. Its neon signs blinked OPEN, and BEST BBQ IN TEXAS. Although she suspected the latter was an exaggeration, her stomach didn’t care. She pinned up her hair, shoved the suitcase under the bed, grabbed her bag and left the room.

  Another vehicle had pulled into the motel’s parking lot since she’d checked in – a vintage Chevy pickup painted shiny black, with Oklahoma plates, Yosemite Sam mudflaps and an empty gun rack in the back window. She was too distracted by hunger and weariness to think much of it. She crossed the street and entered the nameless roadhouse.

  At first glance, it seemed as deserted as the motel. Stale smoke clung to the low-hung ceiling in a fog. Dirty sawdust lay across the floor, as grey as an old washrag.

  She approached the middle-aged, Mexican-American woman standing behind the bar. “I’ll have a half-rack of ribs with a salad on the side and a bottle of water, please.”

  The woman had the same used-up look as the sawdust under Kate’s feet, but she made up for her lack of youth and beauty with her unprovoked hostility.

  “You’ll take a full rack with a pickle and sweet tea and be happy about it.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.” For all Kate knew, the woman kept a loaded shotgun stashed behind the bar for use on smart-mouthed customers with a taste for iceberg lettuce.

  She settled herself on a nearby stool to wait for her meal. The crack and roll of a game of pool in progress rose above the twang of the jukebox. With nothing more interesting to look at, she turned to watch.

  The only other patron in the roadhouse turned out to be a man dressed in a white T-shirt, scuffed boots and faded jeans, the standard uniform of small-town Texas. He didn’t appear to be a day over twenty-five, which made him at least five years younger than Kate. Six feet tall and broad through the shoulders, he sported sandy hair striped with gold and a few days’ worth of stubble across his sharp jaw.

  He turned in profile and bent over the table. The glow from the low-hanging lamp revealed a sunburned complexion. His thick, shaggy hair glistened in the mellow light. He sank his shot, bouncing the cue ball off the bumper hard enough to make it jump three inches into the air and hit the felt with an echoing thud. Kate expected him to smile in triumph, but he only straightened and moved to the other side of the table. He executed his game with a careful, self-critical air, as if playing alone for practice deserved the single-mindedness of a professional.

  In him Kate saw some of Phillip’s all-American good looks. And although she was willing to bet half the cash in her suitcase that the streaks in his hair weren’t $500 highlights, there was enough of Phillip in this man’s careless confidence to make her wish she’d stayed in her room after all.

  The grey lady reappeared and set the rack of ribs on the bar. The man with the pool cue lifted his head and levelled his gaze in Kate’s direction. He didn’t look away. Despite the poor light, she could see his eyes were a very pale shade of blue. When she turned to eat her meal, his continued scrutiny made the skin over her shoulders twitch like a plucked piano wire.

  She tried to concentrate on the ribs. As she tossed the last denuded bone on to the smeared plate, the pool player ambled up to the bar. From the corner of her eye, Kate caught sight of his rolling gait and did her best not to cower at his approach. She was a strong, confident woman with nothing to hide and less to fear from random strangers. Besides, the grey lady would be back with her check at any second, and she’d be on her way.

  “You
know,” the man said, his voice deeper than Kate expected, “if I’d been playin’ for money, you would’ve lost that game for me.”

  “How do you figure that?” She didn’t look up as she spoke, determined to keep conversation to a minimum and eye contact to zero.

  He edged closer, plainly just as determined to catch her attention. “I could feel you watching. Made me nervous, to tell the truth.”

  Kate looked.

  She couldn’t help it – he’d surprised her. She hadn’t made a man nervous in a very long time. The up-close view of his smile, so wholesome and bright, made her wonder how she’d confused him with her glib bastard of an ex-boyfriend. It was more than the small differences between cerulean-coloured contact lenses and eyes the bleached-out blue of the desert sky, or between a tanning bed glow and a spray of freckles across the bridge of a sun-kissed nose. It was the light years between fast-talking insincerity and sweet-talking charm, between a know-it-all smirk and a cocky grin. This cowboy was nothing like Phillip.

  Her previous snap-judgment shamed her. “I’m … sorry?”

  He smiled wider. “What’s your name, darlin’?” he asked in an exaggerated drawl out of every bad Western ever made.

  She didn’t know why she answered. Maybe she was desperate for real conversation after ten days and nights of the most minimal human contact. Convenience store clerks so rarely wanted to shoot the breeze.

  “Katharine.” She swallowed the last of her tea and set the glass on the bar. “Most people call me Kate.”

  He nodded. “I’m Elijah, like the prophet. You can call me Eli.” He used the heavy silver ring on the second finger of his right hand to rap on the bar. “What’re you drinking, Kate?”

  “Tequila.” She’d always wanted to try it straight from the bottle, with no fruity mixer or melting ice to cut the burn, and now was as good a time as any. One drink wouldn’t hurt her, or ruin her plans. One drink, and then she was out of there. Back to her room and straight to bed, so she could cross the border and be well into Mexico before the sun had cleared the horizon.