eXcessively pleasurable fiction
from the sweet to the forbidden
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Warnings: This title contains graphic language and sex.
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Mercedes sells sexual favours to a married ex-lover while Yasuko’s husband eats more than just pasta at the dinner table. Devra recalls the moment she first realized she was a lesbian while Sterling helps Michelle overcome her fear of shower sex. An artist’s wife gives a first-time model the tongue-lashing of a lifetime, and Gina teaches her man that a quiet evening at home is far more fun than a drinking binge with the boys.
“You’re late,” she said. “Again.”
He’d been drinking, too. She could smell it on his breath when he made his usual round of excuses. “Gina, baby, I’m sorry. I was out with the guys and…”
“And you drove like this.”
His expression altered with her flat-out accusation, but she was too damn mad to pussyfoot around the issue. For a second, she was convinced he’d push past her, swearing under his breath. She was truly surprised when he slouched inside the doorframe, leaning his head and shoulder against the jamb. His hair was a dark, slick mess of strands against his forehead. She hated the way it made her pussy throb, just looking at him in all that leather. How could her body betray her like this?
“I’m sorry,” he said again, and this time it seemed like a genuine apology.
Still, sorry wasn’t good enough. When he reached for her fingers, she pulled them away. “You said you’d be home four hours ago, Terry. Four hours, I’ve been waiting like this.”
When he asked, “Waiting like what?” the anger sitting in her belly burbled up toward her heart. She turned and stomped down the hall in a huff. He really had no clue¾none at all! Why did she put up with him?
It wasn’t until she started clearing the table that he called out, “Hey, what’s that you’re wearing, there?”
“Oh, you like it, do you?” she hissed when he’d kicked past the plastic toy shopping cart in the hallway and perched outside the dining room. He’d taken off his jacket, and now wore just a T-shirt and those soft-as-butter leather pants.
Steeling herself against his allure, she asked, “Do you know what serendipity is, Terry?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “Serendipity is when Caroline and Ayden both happen to get invited to sleepovers on the same day I just happen to fit back into my old school uniform. That’s sere-fucking-dipity if ever I saw it, Terry, and what do you spend the night doing?”
Terry hung his head down low. “Drinking with my buddies,” he mumbled, plunking himself down on one of the ugly-ass dining chairs he’d insisted on buying. Leather seats and backs with chrome bodies. Christ, she’d let him turn her dining room into a sports bar, and why? All for love, love, bloody-fucking-love.