Image courtesy of YaiSirichai at FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Regret, by Ryan Whitaker
Brody Jensen sat straight up in bed as though the house was on fire and frantically searched for the remote control. "It's just a lame ass, late night, cable access show " he chanted to himself as he groped the empty space to the right of him without success, knowing he must have left the remote nearby if he'd fallen asleep with television screeching at him yet again.
"I hate it when I do this crap," he hissed to no one as he failed to find the stupid plastic controller that served as his constant companion these days. While his friends were out playing nicely with others, Brody sat in stony silence thinking about what he’d done with her, to her, and the damage it had caused. Wishing he could at least find a way to dampen the sound if nothing else, Brody turned and stared in the direction of the forty seven inch Sony flat screen hanging on the wall opposite his empty, king sized bed and found a cold, black rectangle staring back at him. The television wasn't on.
Looking at the digital read out on the clock nearest his side of the bed, Brody flung himself back against too many pillows taking up too much space where another body ought to be and dared not close his eyes even though it was barley three a.m. No way. To risk falling back to sleep, if that's what he could call it, would mean risking his mind to her again.
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Blind Love by W. Lynn Chantale
Joshua studied Amelia’s naked form. Sunlight kissed her ample curves, giving her warm butterscotch flesh a satiny glow. He longed to caress the softness of her flesh and he envied the sun’s rays.
Desire burned low and all he wanted to do was erase the last five years, but there was still so much between them. She divorced him and married someone else. Maybe that was the part he was having trouble with, how could she not have known what she was signing? Then who told her he was dead?
He followed her movements as she crossed the room. Her long ebony hair bounced around her shoulders stopped just below her shoulder blades. All he could think about was wrapping the silky length around his fist, tilting her head back and imbibing the intoxicating sweetness of her lips.
She paused in front of a large window and lifted her face, her features disappearing in the glare of the sun. Amelia was beauty personified. He held his breath. No matter where she was she always seemed comfortable in her skin. Even now, after they’d been apart for five years it felt as if he’d never left.
Unable to resist, Joshua crossed the room to stand behind her. “You tempt me,” he whispered in her ear. He watched her reflection smile in the glass.
“Perhaps you should strive for a stronger resolve.”
He curved an arm around her waist and flexed his hips against the lushness of her buttocks. “I want you.”
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If You Love Me by Anna Kristell
“Adam, I’m not going to sign the papers.”
“Why the hell not?” he asked as he tried to keep his eyes on her face and not her luscious naked body beneath the skimpy towel that covered it.
“I don’t want to,” she replied stubbornly.
“The sooner you sign them, the sooner we can put this whole farce of a marriage behind us, and the sooner you can move on with your lover.”
“Is that what you really want, Adam?” she said as she gently caressed his face.
He took her hand from his face and answered, “Ash, I don’t know what kind of game you think you’re playing here.”
She moved closer to him, letting the towel drop to the floor. She leaned up and pulled his face down to hers, letting her lips touch his gently. She bit his lower lip, and kissed him. He surrendered to the kiss, pulling her to him. He forced his tongue between her teeth as she willingly opened her mouth to allow him access. He caressed her back and her hands went to his thick hair. She moaned as she ran her fingers through it.
“Make love to me, Adam,” she whispered.
Abruptly, he released her. “Get some clothes on, Ash.”
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked as she grabbed a robe from the bed and wrapped herself in it.
“What’s wrong with me? You’re all over that guy on the dance floor, now you try to cozy up to me, and you ask me what’s wrong with me?
Brody Jensen sat straight up in bed as though the house was on fire and frantically searched for the remote control. "It's just a lame ass, late night, cable access show " he chanted to himself as he groped the empty space to the right of him without success, knowing he must have left the remote nearby if he'd fallen asleep with television screeching at him yet again.
"I hate it when I do this crap," he hissed to no one as he failed to find the stupid plastic controller that served as his constant companion these days. While his friends were out playing nicely with others, Brody sat in stony silence thinking about what he’d done with her, to her, and the damage it had caused. Wishing he could at least find a way to dampen the sound if nothing else, Brody turned and stared in the direction of the forty seven inch Sony flat screen hanging on the wall opposite his empty, king sized bed and found a cold, black rectangle staring back at him. The television wasn't on.
Looking at the digital read out on the clock nearest his side of the bed, Brody flung himself back against too many pillows taking up too much space where another body ought to be and dared not close his eyes even though it was barley three a.m. No way. To risk falling back to sleep, if that's what he could call it, would mean risking his mind to her again.
Follow Ryan
Blind Love by W. Lynn Chantale
Joshua studied Amelia’s naked form. Sunlight kissed her ample curves, giving her warm butterscotch flesh a satiny glow. He longed to caress the softness of her flesh and he envied the sun’s rays.
Desire burned low and all he wanted to do was erase the last five years, but there was still so much between them. She divorced him and married someone else. Maybe that was the part he was having trouble with, how could she not have known what she was signing? Then who told her he was dead?
He followed her movements as she crossed the room. Her long ebony hair bounced around her shoulders stopped just below her shoulder blades. All he could think about was wrapping the silky length around his fist, tilting her head back and imbibing the intoxicating sweetness of her lips.
She paused in front of a large window and lifted her face, her features disappearing in the glare of the sun. Amelia was beauty personified. He held his breath. No matter where she was she always seemed comfortable in her skin. Even now, after they’d been apart for five years it felt as if he’d never left.
Unable to resist, Joshua crossed the room to stand behind her. “You tempt me,” he whispered in her ear. He watched her reflection smile in the glass.
“Perhaps you should strive for a stronger resolve.”
He curved an arm around her waist and flexed his hips against the lushness of her buttocks. “I want you.”
Follow W. Lynn
If You Love Me by Anna Kristell
“Adam, I’m not going to sign the papers.”
“Why the hell not?” he asked as he tried to keep his eyes on her face and not her luscious naked body beneath the skimpy towel that covered it.
“I don’t want to,” she replied stubbornly.
“The sooner you sign them, the sooner we can put this whole farce of a marriage behind us, and the sooner you can move on with your lover.”
“Is that what you really want, Adam?” she said as she gently caressed his face.
He took her hand from his face and answered, “Ash, I don’t know what kind of game you think you’re playing here.”
She moved closer to him, letting the towel drop to the floor. She leaned up and pulled his face down to hers, letting her lips touch his gently. She bit his lower lip, and kissed him. He surrendered to the kiss, pulling her to him. He forced his tongue between her teeth as she willingly opened her mouth to allow him access. He caressed her back and her hands went to his thick hair. She moaned as she ran her fingers through it.
“Make love to me, Adam,” she whispered.
Abruptly, he released her. “Get some clothes on, Ash.”
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked as she grabbed a robe from the bed and wrapped herself in it.
“What’s wrong with me? You’re all over that guy on the dance floor, now you try to cozy up to me, and you ask me what’s wrong with me?
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