Erotic Romance, Love and Lust, Romance

After Burn 1

Part 1

Pink Tears2

 
 
Ellie started laughing and almost couldn’t stop. The punchline wasn’t that funny but she had needed the release badly. Six months prior, she went to bed and realized she hadn’t thought of Ryker for the entire day. Finally, she hadn’t wakened with her first thought being him. That was a first and she smiled as she closed her eyes knowing she would sleep without dreams, at last.
 
 
 
Tonight, Ellie was fully present, laughing with her best friends and actually present in the right here, right now. She wasn’t pretending to smile and she didn’t dread waking up tomorrow – finally. She no longer thought of tomorrow and that was freeing and fine with her.
 
 

Donna and Milly were her besties – forever, she told herself. Together they helped Ellie wade through the loss of her greatest love. With tiny steps and too many nights spent crying on their shoulders, and then crying herself to sleep, she had arrived back at her life and in her right mind. After mourning the loss of self and significant other, she had found her center and herself again. I’m not just breathing now, she congratulated herself. I’m alive!
 
 

Ellie sighed happily and scanned the hall for the powder room. She excused herself and took a step when her eyes landed on Ryker entering the celebration.
 
 

She froze as he smiled at her, not turning away as she had imagined this moment a year ago. Ellie’s breath caught and suddenly she knew what it felt like to be hit by a stun gun. The room whirled slightly as he walked towards her. Before he could reach her, Ellie spun and bolted for the safety of friends.
 
 

“Milly,” she said, lying a hand on her arm, “Milly, I need a moment,” Ellie whispered urgently.
 
 

“Sure sweetie, what is it,” Milly asked and then she saw Ryker approaching.
 
 

“Is there a back way out of here,” she asked, barely staving off hysteria.
 
 

“I understand,” Milly extended her hand to catch Donna’s eye and whispered to Ellie, “Stay put.  I’ll handle this,” waving Donna over with a flash of fingers and eyes filled with concern.
 
 

Her voice was protective reassurance a moment too late. Tears stung Ellie’s eyes which she riveted to the floor with her hair tumbling forward, hiding her expression. She felt pieces of her falling away as she came silently unglued.
 
 

How could he do this to me? Ellie wondered, imagining her bloodied heart splattering onto the linoleum floor. Hasn’t he hurt me badly enough? What the hell is he doing, coming back for more? My suffering wasn’t enough? God help me, he’s come to finish me off.
 

 

Ellie peered to see Ryker extend his hand to greet her friends who were plainly blocking his passage.
 

 

“Good evening, Millicent,” he said, approaching her.
 

They reluctantly exchanged hellos and Ryker held his breath. Milly clutched his palm in her fist pulling him close to her lips while Donna closed ranks behind him. Milly whispered venomously into his ear, “What are you doing here, Ryker”?
 

Donna brought up the rear, jabbing an accusing finger into his back, “Spit it out, disappearing Romeo. Why not try the truth this time,” Donna hissed.
 

Ryker looked directly into Milly’s eyes for the first time since they’d met, “I really love her,” he whispered, “I need her,” Ryker hesitated.
 

Ellie stood with her back to them, eavesdropping and peeking over her shoulder when she dared, biting back tears and wishing the floor would open up and swallow her whole.
 

“Sure you do, just as much as you ever did, you son of a simpleton,” Milly ground out, holding his eyes in her angry stare.
 

“You need her for what,” Donna said acidly, “A night, a week, long enough to kill her this time”?

 

“I know you two don’t believe me but I need her to,” Ryker insisted, moving to step around Milly.

 

Donna caught the back of his collar as Milly fisted his necktie. Donna moved to stand next to her speaking her vengeance softly, “You’ll have to convince us first so go ahead. Try. We dare you,” she spat close enough that Ryker could feel their mutual wrath cloak him.
 

He glanced beyond them to see Ellie, with her head down and back turned. It was an insecure posture, and it was his fault. He had no desire to bring her more pain than he already had. All he wanted was to hold and comfort her, to win back the trust he had lost so foolishly. Not wanting to inflict a scene on her atop everything else, Ryker acquiesced.
 

“Okay, he said, squaring his shoulders and taking care not to break eye contact, “Why don’t we find an empty table? I’ll buy us a round and I’m all yours. You two can vent and I’ll answer every question you have. Do your worst. I’m not running.”
 

It was a boy who let her go, he realized, and I’m going to be the man she deserves, he thought resolutely.
 

Milly and Donna exchanged an incredulous glance and nodded their agreement. Milly fisted the edge of his sleeve, making sure this wasn’t a rouse. Donna stepped back to whisper quickly to Ellie, “Give us awhile. Go enjoy the party”.

Ellie turned grief-stricken eyes to her and Donna rested a gentle hand on her shoulder, whispering, “Pretense, Ellie. For now, pretend. You can do this”?
 

Ellie nodded hesitantly and Donna smiled brightly, “Make him jealous as hell, Ellie,” then winked at her and turned away to trap Ryker between Milly and herself.
 

Sliding into the booth next to him, she warned, “There are no guarantees you can convince us. Hunker down, Ryker. This is going to be a long, hard night and I offer no guarantees you will even survive it”.
 
 

 

By Wildfire8470

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©April 29, 2018 at 11:33 AM

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Tags: Erotic Romance, Fiction, Friendship, Relationships, Romance, WiP

 

Part 2:  After Burn, Part 2

Love and Lust, Passion's Invocation, Romance, WiP Excerpts

The Look 2

Chapter 2:  Welcome Home, Honey

the-look

Sherman returned from a town meeting exhausted. He wanted Constance to rub his weary shoulders and speak in quiet, soothing tones, sending him off to calm and dreamless sleep. Her gentle nature is truly something to behold, he thought, opening the door in search of her sweet face. That is when he saw it.

He had received ‘the look’ from a few prior girlfriends and it was frightening enough then, but none of them held a candle to Constance. While the eyes and anger of others had shot daggers into his quick retreat, not one had filled him with dread like ‘the look’ staring back at him now.

Constance was not a woman who angered easily. She was long on patience, empathetic to a fault, and knew fact from fiction almost without exception. Everything she breathed, touched, and attempted, was with single-minded, passionate devotion. It was one of many qualities that drew him to her, but he hadn’t considered her passionate focus in this context.

She had only a few faults, the worst of which were jealous tantrums. She had good reason, but Sherman was ill-prepared for jealousy, coupled with murderous intent, in the eyes of his lovely bride. Standing here now, frozen in his tracks, he realized, if looks could kill, I’d be a dead man served up cold on a cement slab, and the colonel would still put a bullet in my brain. Thank God he was with me!

Sherman summoned all his courage, slapped on a bright smile, and handed her a bouquet of flowers that she did not try to grasp. The bouquet fell to the floor and Constance didn’t blink. Neither did her expression soften in the slightest. She just stood there, glaring hatefully, with stems and petals strewn about her tiny feet.

“Honey, I’m sorry. I had to attend the meeting at town hall. This was about farming and water for the crops. They might dredge the lake and I had let them know our fields are drying up. I didn’t know it would last all night,” he explained. Seeing no change in her countenance, he finished, “What was I supposed to do?” He stood defiantly, waiting for response.

With her arms still folded across her chest, Constance kicked the flowers from her slippers, never taking her eyes from him, and slipped stiffly into a chair, “Lie to me,” she spat acidly, with rage building in the timber of her voice, “This is how much respect you have for me? You think I’m so unintelligent that you’re going to just stand there and lie to me now,” she quizzed him, with her fury building dangerously close to combustion.

Anyone with eyes could see she was a lit keg of TNT with precious little fuse left. Sherman began to approach and then thought better of it. She’s a volcano about to erupt. Even I can see this one coming on. Then suddenly, his lips turned up slightly as he recalled the first time he’d bedded her and she had been a much more accommodating volcano. He wiped off the grin but it was too late.

“You dare to laugh at me? You think this is funny? I paced the floor all night wondering if my husband is alive, dead, or with the town whore, and you’re smiling? How dare you,” she screamed, “So it’s hilarious that you worried your wife sick”?

Constance shoved her chair back standing ramrod straight and crossed the room. Fisting the first heavy object that came into her hands, she sent a prized Louis XVI sevres hurtling toward him, nearly clipping his ear, as it whizzed past his head and shattered against the wall along with his hard won calm.

By Wildfire8470

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© February 23, 2017 – 07:36 PM – All Rights Reserved

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Tagged: Lust, Love, Romance, Jealousy, Tantrums, WiP

Love and Lust, Passion's Invocation, Romance

The Look 1

Chapter 1:  Revelations

the-look

 Sherman recalled his triumphant return from battle. He was jubilant enough to ask her father for Constance’ hand in marriage. Many truths were revealed that night. It was an evening he would never forget.

Colonel Douglas Brenner appeared to be all business. He ran the mansion quite efficiently, made his fortune in farming, land and crops, and spoiled his daughter with extravagant trinkets and lavish gowns all for the fun of seeing her face light up with joy.

Colonel Brenner shook Sherman’s hand and slapped him on the back, saying, “I wish you luck, old boy. You’re braver than the dandies that came to call before you.”

“Why thank you, sir,” he responded stiffly.

“Don’t be so formal, Sherman. We’re practically family now,” the colonel smiled.

They shared cigars and brandy over a game of chess until the small hours of the night. After they’d had their fill of drink, Sherman watched a darkness come over the colonel as he leaned across the large, oak desk to impart his wisdom.

“Constance is not my biological daughter,” he spoke softly; “I don’t think she remembers and I am the only father she’s known. I trust you will keep this confidence strictly between us,” the colonel said conspiratorially.

“What are you saying,” Sherman questioned.

The colonel continued, “Her mother and I made the adoption legal after we were wed, son, but we decided never to tell Constance if she didn’t question her heritage”.

Sherman watched slack-jawed while the colonel took a long pull from his drink, draining the brandy from its snifter. He whispered his confusion, “But her mother is.” Again he stopped with the unease of having been drop-kicked into a mine field blindfolded.

Anice,” the colonel phrased the question for him.

“Yes,” Sherman acknowledged.

“Yes and no,” the colonel replied, “Before I married Anice, the future Mrs Brenner attended the Institut Villa Pierrefeu. It’s a finishing school in Switzerland. She shared a room with a young woman who’s reputation was,” he paused, searching for the right words, “less than sterling. Lydia Oliver was her name”.

Sherman lit a cigar, urging, “Go on”.

“The young lady got herself with child. Anice helped Lydia hide the fact, but Lydia abandoned the baby girl soon after giving birth. She left her child on a blanket with a note.”

The colnonel rummaged through a desk drawer and produced a scrap of paper. Sherman read it in silence.

“Dearest Anice, I  know you come from money and that your heart is made of gold. You’re a better friend than I could have hoped for. Please take care of her like you did me.”

Sherman looked at Douglas Brenner with new respect and asked the obvious question,  “So she kept Constance?”

“Indeed,” the colonel beamed, “She went to the Headmaster and higher-ups to explain her predicament. They tried to talk her into giving the child up for adoption but Anice was already in love with the baby girl. She was determined to keep her. It was teamwork and some luck that they managed to hide the presence of a baby at the Institut Villa Pierrefeu. Anice is quite a special woman,” He finished wistfully.

“And you married her anyways”? Sherman queried trepidaciously.

“Absolutely,” the colonel beamed, “I’ve only loved three women in my life,” he exclaimed, “My mother, Anice, and Constance. It’s no easy task to give my youngest in marriage but you’re a good man, Sherman Mandrel, I know you will never fail to do right by my little girl,” he said, patting his revolver for assurance.

“You can count on me, Colonel,” Sherman uttered, hoping his voice didn’t shake.

 

 

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© February 23, 2017 – 07:36 PM – All Rights Reserved

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Tagged: Lust, Love, Romance, Requests, Revelations, Proposals, WiP

 

 

 

 

Part 2 ————> https://wildfire8470.wordpress.com/2017/02/23/the-look-2/

Fantasy, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Passion's Invocation, Romance

Between the Devil and the Deep 4

Part 4

Test of Faith

dd4

 

Jake plumbed the murky sea, swimming deeper into the spot where he had seen Sirina go under. Nothing was visible in the storm-black seawater. He plumbed more deeply, extending arms blindly in every direction until his lungs threatened to burst.

He retreated and dove again with all of his senses coming alive. Jake hauled his body ever deeper seeing only blackness until his foot brushed against something which was not rock. He froze at the touch of fingertips to his ankle and falling away.

With a ludicrous mix of terror and relief propelling him, Jake pushed deeper with limbs stretched akimbo until he finally caught the feeble fingertips that attempted to alert him. He tightened his grip on a hand too weak to hold his own and hauled them both upward, drawing a great gasp of air upon surfacing. Sirina did not.

Jake caught sight of the cabin cruiser, and motivated by sheer panic, swam with fury, dragging Sirina’s limp body until he could fling himself into the dingy for leverage. Never letting go, he strengthen his hold, moving his hands to her wrist and arm. Jake braced himself and pulled mightily, hauling Sirina aboard.

On instinct, he threw himself over her tiny, lifeless form, shielding her from rain bulleting down amidst a storm which gave no quarter. Jake moved his face close to hers, listening for the sound of breath as he held his own. Nothing! Wait, Was that a shallow breath?!  Again he steeled himself, waiting and listening. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

He grabbed her shoulders shaking her, “Breathe, Sirina! Breathe!” Then he pressed his lips to hers covering her mouth to breathe life into her lungs, reciting silent instructions and shouting panic with every pause. Tilt head back. Pinch the nose. Deep breath and push into her lungs. “Breath, Sirina!” Head tilted. Pinch nose. Deep breath. Push it into her lungs. “Don’t you give up on me! Breath now, he commanded. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Following several more rounds, he paused to listen again. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

Willing her to live, and filled with terror, he administered CPR pumping her chest frantically. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. “Again! Again! Again,” Jake instructed himself aloud and to any god that might listen. Once more, he paused to listen. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Wait! What was that?

Sirina’s diaphragm lurched and she coughed.

Jake lifted her head, rejoicing, as Sirina coughed up the ocean which had nearly killed her.

As the storm died and she had sputtered her last, Jake held her close, whispering, “Inhale the good air. Exhale the bad air,” more for his comfort than hers, stroking her hair all the while and feeling her tired body fill with life.

Finally, he lay Sirina back gently, instructing, “Don’t move a muscle,” as if she could.

Sirina managed an exhausted reply, “No problem.”

Jake had already clambered up the side ladder and turned to her, issuing, “Shhh, be still.”

Jake hurdled the side rail and bolted to the wheelhouse. He hit the button which hauled the dingy and its precious cargo to safety.

Sirina stared into the now calm skies knowing that Poseidon had tested and spared her – this time.
  

 

By Wildfire8470

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©December 03, 2015 – 11:21 PM – All Rights Reserved

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Read it from the beginning!
https://wildfire8470.wordpress.com/2015/07/14/between-the-devil-and-the-deep-1/

 

Tags:  Love and Lust, Fantasy, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Man and Mermaid, Romance, Mythology, Poseidon, WiP

Erotic Romance, Flash Fiction, Love and Lust, Passion's Invocation, Romance

The Thing about Forever

The Thing about Forever

 

marcus-violet

 

They were willing prisoners too comfortable in the confines of a short honeymoon phase with entirely too much in between. They had run far and fast enough, escaping the families that opposed them. He had slipped her hand into his, threading his fingers through hers, as they approached the chapel doors. The moon rose up full in the sky and she took it as omen that, at least, god approved their union.

 
Everything about the day was beautiful because she was with him, finally, alone, uninterrupted by the rudeness that was her life prior. She had survived so much and knew now that this was why. Marcus hit the accelerator and colorful leaves clouded in the wake of his car as she watched the countryside turn into molten gold and fiery reds that shamed the sunlight and flames in her heart.

 

Violet wanted this imagery, every single leaf that had fallen from trees, daylight sparking fire in the highlights in his hair, the easy conversation and the comfortable quietness, the wind rippling his shirt against his taut body, the last of summer’s warmth, and knowing the night air would be chilled. Violet needed to memorize every second with him now, every perfect moment, because nothing would ever be exactly this way again.

 

She leaned back into his shoulder, listening to the breeze carry his voice away as he pointed out landmarks and that which he recalled fondly, wanting to share with her. She gave him a nearly untroubled smile wishing this second would last forever and knowing it couldn’t – and wouldn’t. She loved him with her heart near to bursting with emotion, knowing even then that it would not be enough to sustain a lifetime.

 

They had lain in the tall grass ready to fulfill their mutual cravings offering up perfect, wanton lovemaking along with the beautiful innocence of two so untried and that unrepentant souls can muster, here in this place where two souls unite in ecstasy’s death in culmination at last.

 

Violet would remember. She would cling to this moment, vehemently, as no other could. Every movement; his hand stroking her hair, her cheek, their impure desires, the angle of the slightly bashful new moon, their bodies pressed  together, the heat of commingling all made perfect in marriage.

 

This was beginning and end which would afford her warmth, in recall, that she may need in a thousand years or the space of another breath. Nothing, she knew with paramount certainty, would ever be as special, awkward, innocently loving, and as lovely, as this momentous second.

 

Marcus slowed the pace, asking “Are you hungry, Violet? Do you want to stop?”

 

But she knew that the reality of anything concrete was enough to break the spell which had carried them this far, and though it was already too late, though something in her heart slipped as the smile slid from his lips, she closed her eyes against the sadness of torn time-space continuum, replying, “Just keep driving, Marcus. Drive forever.”

 

 

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© September 24, 2018 at 12:49 PM – All Rights Reserved

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Reproduction or republication of this content is prohibited without prior written permission.

 

 

Tags: #love and lust #impetuosity #innocence #lost #lust #cravings #love #marriage #honeymoon #phase #fulfillment #reality #Lovemaking #memory #nothing lasts forever

 

Fantasy, Fiction, Love and Lust, Passion's Invocation, Romance, WiP Excerpts

Between the Devil and the Deep, Part 3

Between the Devil and the Deep

Part 3

sirena-3

(Photo (c) kiaarax

The axe fell and Jake was extremely fortunate though suffering a good deal of survivor’s guilt. He saw three good friends let go along with many less tenured personnel at Carson & Rand, but he had been promoted to fill a new slot at the company.

It was no secret that two positions, now vacated, were conglomerated into one and retitled. One man to do two jobs would ease the burden on the company and would certainly make or break the man appointed to do it.

Carson knew Jake was the man for the job. Jake can do this with his eyes closed. He’s been covering for those slackers all year, he thought, recalling that he had hand-picked him from throngs of applicants two years ago.

In him, Carson saw a ‘mover and a shaker’, a younger replica of himself. Yes sir, he congratulated himself, Jake will fill the void at a lesser salary and it will still be a hefty raise to him.

Jake swallowed hard watching his friends empty their desks and clear out office spaces that he would soon occupy. They said civil goodbyes as he looked slightly past them unable to meet their eyes. He knew it could just as easily be him vacating the premises and he could barely breathe as they filed past him to the door. It was promotion served with a roundhouse punch, upward mobility delivered with complimentary uppercut. 

Emotionally and mentally Jake was beaten black and blue. Though relieved he had been spared, he was crestfallen knowing his promotion came at the expense of coworkers whom he liked and respected. My life is a roller-coaster from hell, he thought, scowling out the window.

Following grueling weeks of adjustment and weeks of long hours, Jake assuaged his guilt with the purchase of a shiny, new cabin cruiser which he named The Siren. When the load at work finally lightened he took three weeks of leave.

Every evening he sailed the sea headed for the same place; the place where she had appeared and everything had changed. He dropped anchor close enough to see the beach where he had met Sirena, or had a momentary breakdown, he reminded himself.

This time Jake stayed out all weekend telling himself he had earned a break after the office cutbacks and accompanying anxieties. But while at sea his eyes were constantly scanning, always searching for red hair sparking in the sunlight or anything resembling the mermaid he recalled. Sirena still filled his thoughts and he couldn’t let her go. He still felt unsettled in a way that would give him no peace.

Maybe I just need confirmation that she wasn’t real. Maybe that’s closure, he thought, but then tacked on, and maybe I’m fishing for the one that got away. He scratched his chin in consternation, continuing, either way I’ll have a tall fish-tale bigger than the rest, and scowled into the horizon knowing how unlikely it was that he would ever breathe a word of it.

Jake cruised several miles out into deeper water, noted dark clouds building in the evening sky, and took it as a personal challenge. He checked the portal weather station and turned the transistor radio on to hear reports of thunderheads and storms throughout the coming night. “Good,” he mumbled, “It suits my foul mood just fine.”

Sirena clung to large rocks which balanced precariously atop a sandbar. She could do nothing but hang on for her life and wait, while the driving rain pummeled and stung her flesh. Deafening thunder punctuated by blue-white lightning bolts split the ink-black sky around her. She had never seen her home from this perspective before. She’d never felt threatened by her own world until now.

She renewed her tentative grip on slippery rocks and vented her anger trying to best the thunder, she screamed, “I get it! You’re messing with me. Right?” Forgetting herself, she flung her fist into the air and went under again. Scrambling to surface, Sirena realized she could barely swim without her fishtail.

She fought to gain ground, pulling her shoulders and torso onto the rocks, angling for a safer position and yelling spitefully, “You’re punishing me for changing the natural order! Right? I thought we had a deal, Poseidon!” Another bolt plunged into murky depths as if in answer, while she watched another enormous wave building.

“Rhea should have kicked your ass to kingdom come the first time you ever threw a fit!” Sirena screamed her rage and terror into the driving wind and rain that battered her aching, exhausted body. With too little fight left she tightened her fists and filled her lungs for the next wave.

More torrents beat her down threatening to drown, but she wasn’t going to die without driving her point home. With a burst of energy born of anguished rage, she unleashed personal umbrage that matched her fiery hair illuminated in staccato, electric-blue flashes, “You traitor,” she wailed, unleashing hell’s fury, “I said I wanted to try being human! You call this a try? You’re a welcher and a traitor, Poseidon!”

Sirena hurled the insult into the torrential night with her voice breaking as rage gave way to throes of impotent sobs, “You make me human and drop me into certain death? That’s it? No warning? Why are you doing this to me,” she demanded, sputtering, coughing up seawater, and facing imminent death, yet raising her fist defiantly.

Again, the merciless night saw her hysteria, shrieking and weeping soul-wrenching tears, yet offered no reprieve. Now lost in the virulence of utter madness, Sirena didn’t see the last wave that tore her from the rocks, slammed her back into them and knocked her unconscious. She slipped below the surface, a tiny speck in the vast, violent ocean, knowing that she would die completely unnoticed; utterly alone.

Jake heard distinct cries of distress and knew her in an instant. He grabbed the torch in time to see her red hair flashing in white-hot, jagged electric, and shaking her tiny fist in determined resignation even as she went under, time and again. He ran to starboard and leapt astern, with his mind racing, I knew you were real! I knew it! Jake dropped the torch and dove overboard, yelling, “Hang on, Sirena! I’m coming!”

By Wildfire8470

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Between the Devil and the Deep, Part 1 —>

<—Between the Devil and the Deep, Part 4 

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