Two hot summer stories available today from Selena Kitt at Whiskey Creek Press in Torrid Teasers #49!

(Scroll to the bottom for contest info)

In I’ll Be Your Superman, Evan, a paraplegic, knows that his wife wants more than he can give her, and he’s determined to find a way to fulfill her secret wish…

EXCERPT:

“Nature calls!” Evan backed his chair up and turned it toward the doorway. It was just an excuse to leave them alone for a while. He could empty his bag whenever he wanted. He stopped by the living room to turn on the stereo. By the time he got back, the dishes were done, the food was put away, and Ben and Stef were sitting on the sofa talking. It took him a hell of a lot longer in the bathroom than it used to, that was for sure.

“What are we talking about?” Evan asked.

Stef smiled and Evan noticed that her hand was on Ben’s. “You.”

“Guess that’s why my ears were burning.” He smirked. “Nothing too terrible?”

“Just making fun of your scrawny chicken legs.” Ben grinned and stretched.

“Hey, I take offense to that,” Evan scoffed. “They were always scrawny.”

Stef laughed. “It’s true. Scrawny and pale.”

“Not like Ben over here.” Evan rolled his eyes at him. “Mr. Outdoors, right?”

“Night and day.” Stef smiled. Evan could tell she was feeling the effects of all the wine they’d had tonight. She was leaning back into the couch, curled up like a cat, her feet tucked under her. “Oh, God, I love this song!”

“I know.” Evan smiled.

Stef grinned and winked at Ben. “The blues always makes me want to take my clothes off.”

“Don’t let us stop you!” Evan laughed.

“Dance with me.” Stef held her hand out to Ben and he took it, following her to the middle of the living room floor.

She began to dance, her hands above her head, her body undulating to the music. Ben put his hands on her hips, watching the shift of her dress over them, like green fire under his fingers. He barely had to move at all, she did all the work, like she was putting on a show for him—for them.

Turning so she was facing Evan, she wiggled her behind into the saddle of Ben’s hips as she danced, her eyes half closed and her lips parted. Evan thought she had never looked so beautiful before. She rocked her hips back and forth to the beat, and when Evan met Ben’s eyes, he could see the lust burning there. He didn’t blame him in the least, but it made his throat tight and his chest hurt to see it.

The song was a true blues lick with a mean harp playing over the steady beat. “Goin’ up, goin’ down… Anyway you want me…”

Stef’s body moved up and down to the song’s lyrics, her skirt rubbing against the denim of Ben’s jeans, making it ride high up her thighs. Evan watched as the hem of her dress played peek-a-boo with the elastic tops of her stockings, his whole body filled with a white heat.

Stef turned back toward Ben, snaking her arms around his neck as she moved her belly against his, and Evan watched her ass moving in the same little circles she used to make when she was sitting up on top of him and riding his cock. Watching the motion made him feel dizzy. He hadn’t seen her do it in years, and it made him grit his teeth with lust and envy.

Ben made a small sound in his throat, and his thigh moved between hers as they danced together, their bodies moving in unison now. Evan watched his friend’s hands moving slowly over the rounded globes of his wife’s ass, his fingers slipping over the smooth material, edging it up and up and up. Stef was sliding up and down Ben’s thigh, her head so far back that her long, honey-colored hair almost touched the hands groping her behind.

Evan watched as Ben found the smooth skin of his wife’s thigh between panty and stocking, his fingers gripping her there. Stef moaned, turning her face up to him, and Evan watched them kiss. He had seen them touch lips before—a perfunctory caress—but this was no brief thing. It went on and on as they rocked together, their mouths slanting, greedy, tongues meshing. Evan’s knuckles were turning white on the wheelchair handgrips, but he couldn’t take his eyes off them.

Stef moaned against Ben’s mouth, and the sound send a shiver through Evan. She was most definitely enjoying herself. The way she rolled her hips and how her hands gripped Ben’s upper arms made Evan sure she had really wanted this, even as much as she had denied it. She hadn’t wanted him to feel slighted. He understood that—but he had somehow suspected she wanted more, and now he was sure.

“Jesus,” Ben whispered as their kiss broke. “Stef…”

“Come on,” she murmured, and Evan saw her hand slip between Ben’s thighs to rub the bulge there. She turned and took his hand, leading him. Her eyes met Evan’s and he smiled at her as she leaned down to kiss him, something hard and fierce and briefly deep. He was grateful for it.

“Aren’t you coming?” She looked over her shoulder to Evan as she led Ben toward their bedroom.

Evan’s hands were trembling on the wheels of his chair as he rolled slowly after them.

In French Lessons, Celia is in Paris trying to acclimate while she explores “green building” for her American company. She meets Ronan, a true Frenchman, and gets an up close and personal lesson in the French language…and love.

EXCERPT:

“Le bras,” he whispered in my ear. I tilted my head to look at him in the dimness, loving the sound of his accent, but puzzled by the word. He was smiling at me. I could feel it.

“Le bras,” he repeated, more slowly. “Comprends?”

“Ummm…” I stalled, searching my ever-limited French vocabulary. All I could think of was my own “bra,” in a pile with my jeans and panties next to the bed.

“Think, Celia. I will teach you. This is a lesson…le bras,” he repeated for me, slowly, his voice encouraging. “C’est une partie du corps…a part of the body.”

“Ohh, let me see.” I sat up to look down at him. I could see the outline of his face in the moonlight, his eyes gleaming. He repeated it again softly, slowly. I bit my lip, trying to remember if I ever knew this word. “It is…this?” I tickled his stomach and he laughed, rolling slightly away from me.

“Non, non, c’est le ventre, ma petite!” he chastised, and I giggled with him.

“Well, if I find it, can I kiss it?” I asked coyly.

“Oui,” he breathed, his eyes brighter.

“Is it a fun part?” I asked, looking for hints.

“You like them wrapped around you.” He chuckled and I laughed out loud.

“Arms!” I straddled him triumphantly and ran my hands up and down his biceps. “Les bras.” I lifted one of his arms and kissed his forearm, feeling the hair there, so soft on my lips. My accent was horrible, but he just smiled. “Ok, I can do this…this is fun! Give me another.”

“Mmm…la main.” He squeezed my hand. I lifted it and kissed his palm.

“Hand,” I whispered. He nodded his approval, watching my lips move across his skin. Cradling his hand against my cheek, I quoted, “‘’Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this: For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.’”

“Ummm…” I could see him searching now, knowing it came from Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, and he smiled and said, “Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?”

“Very good! I played Juliet in college and I could probably still quote the entire balcony scene. Let me think… Oh, yeah, ‘Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.’”

I waited, watching him. He shook his head. “Je ne sais pas.”

“Oh then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do,” I prompted, pressing my palm flat against his, my fingers smaller than his. He smiled as I leaned down to kiss him, but he turned his head aside.

“La bouche,” he said softly.

“Mouth.” I touched his lips with my fingertips.

“Oui,” he whispered, as my mouth touched his, a small sound of wonder escaping my throat, our bodies pressed together.

Then, for a while, there were no more words. We didn’t really need them. This was a language all of our own, our bodies talking to each other, understanding, comprehending, flesh speaking to flesh without a need for translation.

CONTEST:

Post what you think is the all-time sexiest foreign language in the comments section, and you’ll be entered to win a FREE copy of Torrid Teasers #49! Winner announced next Friday, August 22.