OK, since I’m selling books – praise be to the romance novel fairies and adventurous readers/genre lovers/Amazon Kindle readers – I’m gonna offer the next little bit of my book Fiona Love for your delectation. The previous bit can be found in a blog post from last month titled: I’m for Sale!!!
This is the first love scene between Fiona and Dane – and the real test of whether I suck or not – so comment freely, Twitter freely, and of course, buy the book if you want the rest. Follow me on Twitter and of course subscribe to my blog because, guaranteed, the more attention I get, the more outrageous I will be! LOL Enjoy!
Oh, and I signed up for Kindlegraph, so now I can autograph copies of the e-book. Cheers!
…Despite each ones’ initial skepticism, it didn’t take long for the girls to fall under Dane’s spell. Fiona later told him she half fell in love with him too when he didn’t call his boys for backup. He held it down at a table full of black women for more than two hours and reveled in it.
Not content to simply use his looks to win them over, and he could have quite easily, he quickly picked up on some characteristic of each to play to. Then, before the last laugh had a chance to fade, he slipped the waiter a black card and paid for everything.
“Class,” Fiona said later.
He spoke to Sugar, Cleo and Netty in rich, full sentences. They couldn’t decide if his baritone and New York twang were more hilarious or hypnotic, and they hung on his every word like they’d never heard a man speak before.
For Fiona his phrases were short and choppy. Rumblings from a handsome lone wolf sizing up its prey with large, crystal green eyes. Knowing exactly what was on his mind, she smiled and responded with soft purrs and languid touches.
She asked him if he wanted a ride to his hotel. He accepted. She asked him if he wanted to ride to her place. He said yes again. Then took her keys and drove the Jag home without asking permission. She fucking loved it.
Cautious Cleo tried to cock block and ride in the back, but Netty shepherded them all into the Range she and Sugar had arrived in and deliberately took a long time getting home. She even stopped for gas.
“Next one’s on me,” Fiona said and let him pull her out of the car. He shifted from foot to foot impatiently while she unlocked the front door and said nothing. “You don’t believe me?” she asked.
His head lowered, and Dane focused on her mouth as though kissing her was an exam he had to ace. “‘Course I do,” he said nibbling her lips as they made their way up the stairs. “Don’t care though. I liked spending money on you.”
Their hands clasped naturally outside her bedroom door.
“I wasn’t offering ‘cause you bought dinner,” Fiona teased, clicking on the light.
“Please,” he laughed, nuzzling her neck, and bit her gently. “I grew up in a three-bedroom apartment with a French mother and three sisters. No father. If you were all raging bitches you still couldn’t scare me.” He led them straight to the bed.
Fiona would trip later at how closely attuned their thoughts were, but for now she was too busy salivating over the pale, well muscled feast before her.
When she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, his arms flexed easily to take her weight. She sighed happily and rubbed wherever she could: her cheeks against his chest, her hands on his back, up into his thick, good smelling hair. She rubbed breasts, belly and hips against his in a restless rhythm that pushed the breath from his lungs in an impatient rush.
He cupped her ass and pulled her more firmly into the cradle of his hips. Their warm push and pull continued as they made their way out of their clothes.
A man who made his living from women’s fascination with style, Dane spared a thought for the gold dress he was about to drop on the floor and tossed it onto a nearby chair.
“Thanks,” Fiona laughed. “I like that dress.”
“Me too. It makes you shimmer.”
“It’s a trick. The sheen of the fabric is supposed to distract from my post-baby chub.”
Dane rolled his eyes. “Please don’t pretend like you’re fat. I get enough of that bullshit from the toothpicks I work with all day.”
Fiona tut-tutted and wagged a finger. “Hold ‘em up, gym shoe. I never said I was fat. I said the dress was designed to hide my post-baby chub, meaning the lil’ bit of junk I’m still carrying since I gave birth.”
“I like this more lush you. I like your bed, too,” Dane said, rumbling seductively as large hands explored her warm skin. “Very chinoiserie.”
Fiona laughed softly as he lay down and immediately pulled her onto his broad chest. He had wonderful arms. Big, but not too big, and carved in hard, hot lines. He might have been made for her hands and mouth, she thought as she kissed and licked warm, thick shoulders.
“That’s a big word for a model. Was it the low-slung feng sui lines of the bed frame or the spare details of my embroidered cream linens that you liked?” she asked against his lips.
He nipped her in retaliation. Not enough to hurt, but hard enough to send her sex a sharp, wet jolt.
“The low-slung lines,” Dane said, squeezing with just enough pressure to set her skin tingling and let her know he meant business. “I have all your CDs.” He nuzzled his face in the open neckline of her shirt, inhaling deeply before he gave the skin between her plump breasts a little lick. “I love that song where you sing, ‘I warned you not to lie. I told you I’m from the Chi. Now your heart’s low and your mind’s high. Your wallet’s tired, and you wonderin’ why.”
She raised her head from leisurely kissing his neck, ran her nose up to where throat met ear. He smelled divine, like he’d been rolling in man-scented laundry detergent. “You know my early lyrics.”
“I’ve had a crush on you for years. Never thought our paths would cross though. I watch your videos on Youtube sometimes.”
Fiona laughed. “Really.” She kissed him more carefully, investigating now because she was intrigued by the idea that a busy, beautiful model might nurse a crush on her. Of course, the pattern of the soft hair on his chest was very interesting too. As was the heat he generated as he slid his body against hers. He was also an excellent kisser. Her sex dry spell was looking wetter than the rain forest a hundred years ago.
“I’ve come a long way since those lyrics came out.” She paused to lick his plump bottom lip, sucking contentedly as he explored her body. “I loved that perfume commercial you did.”
“You saw that?” he asked. He was undoing buttons, kissing every patch of skin as he uncovered it.
She would have to thank Netty tomorrow for forcing her to wear the tiny white oxford. She’d been skeptical when her girl insisted it was perfect beneath the gold dress with its steep V neckline and barely there back, but it had looked great on, different, and now she was thoroughly enjoying the time it took him to get her out of it.
“Wow,” he whispered, smiling when he bared her lush breasts in their lace and silk La Perla. “So, we’re like mutual fans, huh? We should have lots to talk about.”
“Personally,” she said, nibbling her way into the hollow of his throat. “I’ve always thought New Yorkers talk too much. Kinda like the English. Always use 10 words when two will do.”
He laughed into her cleavage then reached for the clasp to release one of her breasts into his mouth. “Mmm,” he said, sounding so happy and content, she began to laugh.
An ex had once told her that’s when he fell in love with her, when he realized she understood men’s relationship to breasts and approved.
He made a cute little snuffling noise and increased the pressure of his suckling and with it these lovely pulsing sensations that seemed hard-wired directly to her clit.
“Good. You got a few things I wanna taste too.”
It was textbook first-time action. First a little head. Fiona was pleased to learn that his skill at kissing translated well for her second pair of lips. He had a wonderful, coochie-loving mouth, soft yet dangerous, thorough but exciting. She came so fast it was almost embarrassing.
“Sorry,” she gasped. “It’s been a minute.”
He raised his head from between her legs and grinned. “Don’t apologize. If you’re always this easy, we should get along great.”
Fiona pushed at his shoulders, huffing approvingly when he lay on his back. They pressed together, her curves blending easily into the sharp planes of his body. “Big words, big man. I was wound up tight. Now, I’m better. Let’s see what else you got.”
She didn’t know this about him yet, but Dane was never one to back down from a challenge, and he hadn’t been this excited by a woman in forever. He wanted to ravage her. If she hadn’t come just then she’d still be on her back. He wanted to fuck her so badly he was fairly certain his heart had skipped a few beats it was thumping so hard, but curiosity eased him enough to let her take over. He wanted to see what she would do, if she would have trouble keeping up.
Fiona seemed to have brought out some latent caveman sensibility in him with her teasing and laughter. Her sweetness, the hints of power when she wanted something, her faintly arrogant, almost expectant responses when she got it, it all held him in thrall. The breaths that slipped from her lips, the way her eyes narrowed and her head fell back when it was feeling particularly good, it was all making him crazy.
They fucked all night. Fiona had never had sex like that. Daney had a touch as sure and sensitive as a surgeon. He stroked her like her skin was crack, and his hand was a pipe. He squeezed her like he was drowning, and only handfuls of her ass would buoy his head above water. Everything she had, he praised with ragged words and brief, breathy moans.
The texture of her skin was gorgeous, her shape was intoxicating. Her breasts, the indentation of her waist, her back, her knees, they were all perfect. His hands gave lavish, silent testimony, running over her like a blind man memorizing his address in Braille. If such a thing were possible on near immediate acquaintance, he actually seemed to love her, so completely did he worship her body.
Dane was serious about loving her. He fucked her long and sometimes hard, but he did it meaningfully. There was no pounding toward the finish. He savored her, took breaks mid-bout for protracted kisses and nibbling sessions that made her coochie clench on his dick so hard and so often he threatened to pull out. Said she was rushing him, and he refused to come fast and miss out on their first time.
Daney – he’d gained an impromptu nickname, as did most who traveled into her orbit – even had the nerve to groan in disappointment when he came the first time.
“It just felt so good,” he groaned, squeezing her so tight Fiona giggled as he rooted, sated, in the bend of her neck. “I didn’t want it to end. How’d you make it so good?”
She was lying on top of him resting. After the third orgasm, she was so limp and drained Daney wanted to call it a night. He fetched a cool wash cloth and stroked it over her forehead and cheeks to revive her, then wiped her gently between the legs. She eventually talked him into another round by licking her name out on his balls.
“You were fuckin’ great.” She told him several hours of sex and a 30-minute nap later. She would have moved away, but he wrapped his arms and legs around her like bands.
“Not so fast. Where you goin’?”
“To pee.” To break contact before any bonding could occur, and to make it easier to suggest, from across the room and the safety of a thick terry cloth bathrobe, that he carry his gorgeous ass to the hotel instead of staying with her for the night.
Fiona was sitting on the toilet thinking about which morning appointment she could use to get rid of him when Daney knocked and came in. She stared at him like he was nuts.
“What are you doing?”
“Waiting for my turn to use the can.” He sat naked on the edge of the tub and looked at her.
“I can’t pee with you watching me.”
“Ion’ know! Can’t you wait outside?”
“Prude,” he pronounced, shaking his head as he left.
Fiona just laughed and rolled her eyes.
She tried several times, subtly and not so subtly, to suggest that he leave, but he’d just laugh and hem her up with one of his Daney-licious, full-body kisses. Those kisses were amazing. Just wet enough. Just wild enough, and the way he rubbed her down, front and back, made her coochie feel like her panties were filled with honey and bees. He even kissed her while she was on the toilet, which she thought was really nasty, and totally loved.
It was miraculous really. Every time she saw him – no matter what they’d just done – she wanted to fuck…