Anyone want to read my Beardy Captain America fan fic?
Here’s the link for you.
Anyone want to read my Beardy Captain America fan fic?
Here’s the link for you.
Welcome to my playground, lovelies.
I’ve decided to post something wicked. A sexy snippet from a story I’ve been working on. I’ve also included some yummy eye candy I used as inspiration for one of the heroes of my tale.
A seductive tale of three brothers who carry a secret that binds them to the wicked queen.
A secret that makes them both predator and prey.
Allow me to tease you with a snippet from their story…
The trek back to the cottage proved slow and tedious in the dark. The moon was hidden by thick clouds. Scarlett readjusted the three rabbits slung over her shoulder. Snaring them had proven simple enough, but it kept her out later than she had intended.
Her thought strayed back to him. Nicholas, he said his name was. The thought of him, shirtless, chopping wood in the brisk fall air made her breathless. Scarlett never imagined herself to be prone to the typical female reactions when it came to men. She had been hunting with them since she was a girl. Handsome, ugly, old, young, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered to her was killing wolves. The bastards had taken her grandmother from her, shredded her to bits while she gathered vegetables in the garden. She closed her eyes, willing the image of her mutilated grandmother from her mind.
Scarlett hunted them every day since. She mercilessly slew each one, lopping off their heads and turning their pelts into her bedding and clothing. They knew she hunted them and made her work for her revenge. The ones that remained were here, in these woods. She would find them.
A breeze kicked up the leaves, blowing them across her path. Scarlett glanced into the darkened forest. She was positive this was the right direction. The path was barely visible under her feet, but she pressed on, letting her internal compass guide her home. Rose and Bianca should be home and safe. Their lives disturbed by the death of their father. Now, they had new concerns to deal with. The brothers grim. The new trio had taken up at the market, selling their leather and steel goods. Bianca and Rose said they arrived not even a month before. Emmett was a quiet hulk of a man, grizzled with a shaggy beard, but his eyes held the softest light. She hadn’t met the merchant brother, Caleb. Bianca mentioned his golden good looks and quick charm. A hustler of sorts, trouble that one. Yet, the one that drew her was the brooding Nicholas.
The scent of wood smoke caught her attention. Home. Scarlett quickened her pace, the soft glow of light from a lantern appeared in the distance. She sighed. It was good to be home.
“You shouldn’t be out this late, alone,” a deep voice called from behind the trees to her right.
Scarlett slipped her hand to the hilt of her short sword. Her momentary distraction put her at a disadvantage.
“Who are you?” she asked, tightening her grip on the hilt.
The figure stepped from behind a tree. Her eyes narrowed on him in the darkness. She couldn’t make out his features.
“You never know what lurks in the dark forest, Red. Have a care.”
That voice. It drifted over her like a soothing swig of ale. Dulling her senses, lulling her into a false sense of security. She shook her head.
“What do you want, Nicholas?” She kept her hand on the hilt, taking no chances. He came closer, stopping so close the heat from his body warmed her. She glanced up into his face. This close she could see his eyes. Even in the dark, they held a golden glow that was unnatural. A trick of the moonlight perhaps, but the moon was hidden.
“I was on my way home, when you crossed my path.” He bared his teeth in a wolfish grin. “You’d satisfy a very hungry wolf tonight, Red.” His hand covered hers, peeling it from her weapon. He brought her hand up and placed it on his chest.
Scarlett couldn’t speak, her heartbeat thundered in her ears. She stared into his eyes, bewitching in the darkness. “You have such bright eyes.”
“So I can see you better in the dark,” he replied, leaning closer. His breath mingled with hers, and the whole world ceased to exist when he slipped his hand across the curve of her hip and pulled her against him. The rabbits fell, forgotten, to the forest floor.
She wanted to push him away, stop him. His other hand found the small of her back and there ceased to be any space between them.
“Let me go,” Scarlett whispered. It was all the fight she had left. She wanted him, although she knew he was dangerous, knew he was a predator, preying on her deepest darkest desires. She wanted what he offered.
“Red,” his husky murmur shot lust straight to her core. When his lips claimed hers, it turned her steel resolve to molten metal. His kiss was punishing and demanding. She flung her arms around his neck. He lifted her off her feet and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He nipped at her lower lip, drawing it between his teeth. Scarlett whimpered, arching her hips against him. His hands gripped her backside as he plundered her mouth.
He tasted forbidden, of cloves and cinnamon, spices that go straight to one’s head. She snaked her fingers through his thick hair, holding on to him as if he was her only salvation. She snapped his head back, breaking the kiss and forcing him to look in her eyes. The golden glow was darker now. An amber storm churned in their depths. He lowered his gaze to her neck.
“Nicholas,” she sighed when his blazed a trail down the column of her throat with his tongue, tasting her. He reclaimed her lips, driving her desire into the clouds. His hands massaged her ass through the thin material of her trews. She wanted more. Wanted to feel him naked beneath her. What was she saying? Reason clawed at the back of her lust hazed mind.
“Red,” he growled against her mouth, pulling away. She looked at him. He searched her face and slowly lowered her feet to the ground. Scarlett wobbled a moment, wondering if he had read her mind. She only thought about stopping. It didn’t mean she wanted it to end. His hands held her steady, resting on her hips. She brushed her fingertips over the stubble shadowing his jaw.
“Go home, surely your cousins are worried by now.” He pulled his hands away, running them through his hair. He turned away with a frustrated grunt.
“Nick,” Scarlett called out. He paused but didn’t turn around. “I’m not scared of you.”
He turned, his amber eyes glowing like the harvest moon. “You should be.”
(This snippet/scene is the property of Jen Bradlee.)
Here is the man who inspired Nicholas.
What did you think of my wicked little teaser? Does it make you crave more?
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This week I’m sharing a journal entry I wrote from a prompt. I’m not positive where it’s going yet, but I like the premise. Hope you enjoy!
***Warning: Swearing and unauthorized well, Wibbly-Wobbly stuff.***
A glimmer of recognition nagged at him. He pulled the hat from her head, and her red hair lit the wall, fanning around her face like a wildfire of curls. It was the most vivid shade of red he had ever seen, even in this dim lighting. Her eyes were wide with fury, but not a hint of fear. He patted her down, quickly checking for other weapons. Her curves were like heaven. Milo found himself in a completely unexpected but not wholly unwelcome situation. But they had other things to worry about at the moment.
He glanced at his watch. Shit, five minutes left. He was running out of time.
Releasing her arms, he stepped back. He scooped up her fallen gun.
“Can I have my gun back?” she asked as she reaffixed her hat.
“Not until we’re out of here,” he said as he calmly glanced in each case, making his way down the rows. He stuck the earpiece back in. “Sorry about that.” He glanced at the red-haired vixen.
“What the hell, kid?” the old man barked in his ear.
“I’ll tell you later,” Milo snapped. “Let’s just get this damned thing and get the hell out of here.”
The old man decided not to waste any time arguing.
“It’s a standard pocket watch with a lion engraved on the back, along with Well’s initials.”
Milo scanned the cases, fully aware of the presence behind him watching his every move. Locating the piece they were searching for, he carefully picked the lock and slipped his hand into the case.
“Be careful,” the woman warned him, her voice hushed but stern.
“It’s just a damned watch, relax. I got this,” he said, picking up the watch. The glint of gold in his black gloved hand made his heart skip a beat.
“Please, just put it in your pocket and let’s go,” she said softly, her breath on his ear. He didn’t hear her come up behind him.
He turned to look into her seductive green eyes. Lost for a moment, he shook his head.
“It’s only a damned watch,” he laughed, lifting it to look at the inscription to make sure it had the details on it. “This is it.” He pushed the latch to open the watch.
“Noooo,” Red yelled, grasping his arm.
A sudden burst of light emerged from the watch face, sucking them into the watch like a vacuum. Physics be damned, Milo and Red were devoured by the watch. He looked at the stunned, yet irate woman beside him. She glared at him as they tumbled down a vortex of spinning lights. Something had gone horribly wrong, and he had a feeling that damned woman knew exactly what just happened.
I hope you enjoyed this week’s teaser, sorry it’s late.
I blame Chris Musgrave for this post. Hunt him down if it’s too much for you to handle and you need to vent your anger on someone. ehehehe.
****Warning: May cause your heart to explode and make you want to tear your hair out.****
The fog curled around her legs like a cat begging for attention. She glanced up at the neon sign glowing in the dim alley, and a smile crossed her lips making the scar bisecting them pinch and tingle. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed the cigarette to the ground. Tonight, that bastard would pay for what he’d done.
That’s all you get. Chris dared me to put a one sentence teaser, but I gave you a paragraph. Do you want me to continue this one next week? If so, then tell me…who is she looking for? (There’s no right or wrong answer here, I want your input to give me a direction for the story.)
May I present…your teaser for the week. Enjoy. 😉
********Warning: Elevator Fantasy Ahead ********
Sandra dashed for the elevator just as the doors started to slide closed. “Hold the elevator, please!” She huffed and puffed from running across the small lobby. The doors closed with a silent thud. “Figures,” she said, pressing the up button and leaning against the frame waiting for it to return.
“Maybe you should take the stairs?” a voice echoed behind her.
She glanced over her shoulder and scowled at the man wearing a three piece suit and carrying a smart, leather messenger bag. Her gaze narrowed on his piercing blue eyes and thin tight smile as he scanned her from head to toe. Sandra stared at the man before her who failed miserably to hide his obvious disapproval.
“Rude.” She murmured under her breath and turned her back to him.
The door slid open again, and she stepped into the elevator. He entered the car behind her, pressed his floor number, and leaned against the wall. Fifth floor, just below hers. Makes sense why she’d never seen him before. Part of her hoped she’d never see him again, especially if he was prone to making judgmental statements and lacked all forms of common civility. She sighed as she pressed her floor number, and the doors slid closed.
Sandra opened the letter in her hand and scanned the contents as the elevator slowly rose. It slammed to a halt, and the lights flickered before extinguishing completely.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Her words elicited a laugh from the man standing behind her. She turned to him. “Haha, real funny.”
He picked up his cell phone and turned on the light. The shadows on his face sharpened his features. She sucked in a breath as his gaze met hers. “I told you to take the stairs.”
“Wait, you knew this was going to happen?” She approached him and swung her purse at him. “You ass!”
“I have this effect on elevators, and women it seems.” His lopsided smile made her heart tumble in her chest.
She whacked him with her purse again for good measure then collapsed against the wall, banging her head repeatedly to punish herself for not taking the stairs. She’d thought he had been making a snide comment about her weight. Too sensitive, her brother had always said. Truth. She’d always been aware of her curves, believing they’d been a curse. The heat rose in her cheeks, and she turned away from the man. It didn’t matter if it was dark in the elevator, she didn’t want him to see her blush.
“Do you have signal in here?” he asked, breaking the silence.
Sandra pulled out her cell and unlocked it. “Nothing.” She held it up for him to see.
“Loki fangirl are you?” He chuckled.
She slipped the phone back into her pocket. “Yeah, what do you care?”
“Well, your screen background can tell you a lot about a person.” He grinned.
“Really? Please enlighten me, oh wise one.”
“Sarcasm doesn’t become you.” He touched her sweatshirt. “Neither do baggy clothes.”
She jerked out of his reach. “What does my screen have to do with who I am?”
“It tells me quite a bit about you actually.” He stepped closer, pressing her against the wall.
“You’re full of it.” She wanted to push him away, but her body froze, rooted to the spot. His warmth and the scent of his cologne enveloped her. “Tell me then, smart ass. What does my Loki screen tell you about me?”
“You like mystery, action, and crave adventure.” His hand braced against the wall beside her head. “It also means you prefer mischief and the darker side.” He leaned close and whispered in her ear. “Tell me, Sandra, are you hiding a dark side?”
Hope you’re thoroughly teased now. You like or no?
Here’s this weeks teaser…
*****Warning: HOTNESS AHEAD….possible NSFW. ******
Forever after, she believed betrayal tasted like his lips did that night. The salty tang of sea water and tequila mixed with the summer breeze still lingered in her mind.
“Bastard,” she murmured, turning toward the small seaside cottage. It had been three years since she’d been near the ocean, walked on a beach, and breathed the salty air. Now she remembered why she hated the ocean. It reminded her of his blue eyes and those nights…oh god, those nights.
She kicked open the cottage door and dropped her bags on the floor next to the dresser. The cottage was smaller than the one they had shared, but it wasn’t like she needed a large bed and a sturdy headboard. There wasn’t going to be any sex going on during this vacation.
Pulling her cell from her pocket, she hit the speed dial and held it to her ear. When she heard the beep, she left a message. “I’m here, safe and sound. Just wanted to let you know. Love you, bye.” Mom worried too much.
Nina flopped onto the bed, sinking into the soft duvet. She watched the ceiling fan spin overhead. “What the hell am I doing here?”
“I don’t know, but I’m not complaining.”
The sound of a stranger’s voice made her jump off the bed. He stood in the doorway of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his narrow hips. “Who are you? And why the hell are you in my room?” Her gaze drifted down the bare expanse of muscled chest.
“I could ask the same, but I’m thinking a thank you sacrifice to the Hawaiian gods might be more appropriate.”
She pushed her hair back away from her eyes. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Shaking the disturbing thought from her mind, she focused all of her attention on his face. Only his face…too distracting if it dipped any lower, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried again. Nina narrowed her gaze and met his full on.
“I think there’s been a misunderstanding.” She glanced at the open door and noted the number on the cottage. 8. Then Nina glanced at the key in her hand. 8. Yup, her room. So what the hell was this sinful stranger doing in her room, buck ass naked. “This is my room.” She held up her key.
He moved to the small counter by the refrigerator and held up another key. 8. “Looks like we’re bunking together, sweetheart.”
“Oh, hell no.” She backed up. “I’m going to get this straightened out right now.” Nina pulled out her cell and dialed the front desk. After a few terse moments on the phone with the concierge, she hung up in defeat. “There aren’t any other rooms. Everything is booked. She comped the cost of my stay, but that still doesn’t leave me a place to crash.” With a sigh, she turned to pick up her bags. “Could this day get any fucking worse,” she mumbled under her breath.
“Hold on.” His words stopped her. “We’re both adults, I don’t see why we can’t share. I promise not to drool on your pillow.”
So what do you think?
Here’s a fresh teaser for you guys this week…inspired by a pic I found online.
****WARNING: BDSM elements, Domme, sub, and a bit of rough play.
He hesitated before entering the studio apartment. When he finally stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind him, I approached him slipping my arm around his waist and sliding the deadbolt home.
What happened here was between the two of us, I wasn’t about to share him with anyone. His sharp inhale at the contact struck a chord of lust and sent it reverberating through my body. The dim lighting reflected in his eyes as I looked up at him. They shifted from green to blue and dilated. I pressed against him savoring the hard feel of his body against mine and the smell of his aftershave.
“You shaved.” I brushed my fingertips along his jaw and pressed them to his full lips when he opened his mouth to reply. The words died in his throat. He nodded instead.
“Did I give you permission to do that?”
He shook his head.
“I can’t hear you.” I leaned closer forcing him to meet my gaze. My left hand rested on his chest, the other hovered over his lips.
“No, Mistress.” His brow arched and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. The sparkle of mischief in his eyes emboldened me.
“We discussed this before.” My fingers traced his sharp jawline. I tangled my fingers in the mass of dark curls lying against his collar and tugged his head back with a sharp jerk. He dropped to his knees in an instant, his eyes still locked on mine, the heat simmering in their depths. “I told you not to shave this week.”
“My apologies, Mistress.” His deep baritone made me shiver. I loved the way he called me mistress, like it was a prayer and a curse all combined in a loving caress.
“If you’re not going to follow the rules—” I slid both my hands into his hair. “—how do you expect me to follow them.” His chest rested against my hips and torso. If I released his hair, he could bury his face in my cleavage, but I wasn’t ready to give him what he wanted. He came to me because he wanted my domination. I would give him what he wanted, but it would be on my terms. “Did you do it on purpose to garner punishment?”
His defiant gaze never wavered. “Yes, Mistress.” I tugged both fistfuls of hair. He moaned, his body arching against me.
“You want to touch me, don’t you?” I released my grip and stroked the back of his head with my fingertips.
“Yes, Mistress,” he whispered as his eyes drifted closed.
I bent down and whispered in his ear. “Only when I’ve made you beg for it.”
Comments always welcome. What do you think?
This week you get to see the Western side of me. *wink* This story has been brewing for a while. I think it’s gonna be good.
*******WARNING: Seduction and cowboys. Dangerous combination. ************
“You want me,” she said, her seductive voice slipping from her lips like her chemise straps from her shoulders.
“Lou, I don’t think…” he sputtered and swallowed the selling arousal, beating it into submission. All that did was flash images of her bare behind bent over his lap.
“Think what, Colt. Think you can tame me?” She took a step closer, the chemise clinging to her breasts like a whispered prayer. Reaching out, she traced her fingertip over his jaw down to feather over his lower lip.
“You’re drunk, Lou.” He steeled himself against the seductive allure of her touch.
“Aren’t you? I know you matched me. Shot for shot.”
He scoffed. “I have a higher tolerance for whiskey than you do. Stop, now, before you do something you’ll regret in the morning.” Pushing her hand from his face, he gripped her wrist savoring the silken skin beneath his fingers.
She stared at her wrist in his hand. Glancing up, she met his eyes, tears welling up.
“You…” she murmured. “You don’t want me?”
“Damn it, Lou.” He dropped her hand and stood so quickly, she stumbled back, collapsing into a chair. He raked a hand through his hair when the tears spilled silently over her cheeks.
“Darlin’, don’t cry.” He knelt beside her, placing his hand on hers.
She jerked it away, covering her face with her hands.
“Go,” she whispered so softly Colton almost missed it.
“I said leave, damn it!” she screamed, as the sobs started.
“Okay, I’m going.” Colton rose and strode to the door. He paused, hand on the knob listening to the soft hiccuping cry. “I’m sorry,” he said, barely looking over his shoulder. Once he was outside with the door closed behind him, he ground his teeth. Seeing her in pain was more than he could bear. What bothered him was her reaction to his refusal. He would never take advantage of her in an intoxicated state and she would appreciate that. Wouldn’t she?
He mussed his hair some more.
Colton wanted her more than anything else in the world. Always had, even when they were wild children. He always loved Louise, loved her enough to know when to walk away.
I hope you enjoyed this one. Leave your thoughts in the comments.
My teaser for you this week comes from a little fantasy I’ve had for years. Not sure where it’s going yet, but I would LOVE to finish it and find out.
**********WARNING: Naughty thoughts about professors lie ahead. Proceed with caution.*********
Lexie sat in the over-sized leather armchair facing the mahogany desk. Bookshelves lined the walls and towered above her, intimidating and bold. She glanced at the door where a brass name plate gleamed back at her: Professor A. Logan. Lexie shifted in her seat, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes.
“Sorry about that, Alexandra.” A masculine voice echoed from the doorway. “Had to tie up a few loose ends with the other faculty members about our class trip to New York City. Going to be a great trip. You planning on coming?”
She cracked open one eye and looked at him. He looked like a professor. The perfect specimen of a teacher that makes female students squirm during lesson time and pine for one-on-one instruction. Lexie would be the first to admit it; Professor Logan was a prime grade A man. Although she didn’t believe in teacher/student fraternization, she’d break that rule, in a heartbeat. Professor Logan was nothing but professional and courteous. So Lexie kept her lustful musings to herself.
“I was thinking about it actually,” she replied as she sat up and gave him a grin. She’d been told once that her smile was infectious. When he smiled back, she wished it wasn’t. Her heart skipped and stumbled a beat or two, and when it finally caught normal rhythm, she felt a shift of gravity in his direction. His smile was magnetic.
“Payment for the trip is due by Friday,” he said as he sat down behind his desk. “Don’t want you to forget. It’s going to be a fantastic trip.” He locked eyes with her. “I’d hate for you to miss all the fun.” The corner of his lips tilted upward and her heart stopped completely. It was more devastating than the smile. She looked at the bookcase and caught her breath.
Holy hell, I need to get out of here before I make an ass of myself and say something stupid. She gathered her composure and turned her gaze back to him.
“You said there was something you needed to go over with me to receive that final scholarship award?” She hoped that her voice sounded normal but being in this confined space made her more aware of him than ever. Let’s hurry this up, I need to go wring out my panties.
“Yes, I have a few questions I need you to answer before I can sign this recommendation for your scholarship.” He stood and walked around his desk then sat down in the chair next to hers. He handed her a clipboard with a few sheets of paper attached.
“Do you have a pen?” she asked, suddenly warm and breathless.
“Take mine.” He handed her his pen, his fingertips grazing hers.
Oh my sweet Jesus! It took all of her willpower not to jump him then and there. He was so close, his cologne swirled around her causing coherent thought to swarm and burst into blurbs of gibberish. Lexie looked down at the paper. She could see words, but no meaning infiltrated her brain.
She could sense him watching her. She forced herself to keep her eyes on the paper in front of her. Lexie tried to read but was distracted by his steady breaths.
“Are you okay, Lexie?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “They’re just standard questions. It’s not a midterm exam.” He chuckled.
She laughed nervously and quickly filled out the forms. At this point she didn’t care what they said. She just needed to get out of his office. His proximity was affecting her brain’s ability to form coherent thought. Lexie handed the paperwork back to him. This time there was no mistaking his hand grazing hers as he took the clipboard for an accident. She looked at him surprised.
“You have very beautiful eyes, Lexie.”
His compliment made her shiver. “Thank you,” she stammered. “I should be going.” She stood, but he was already walking toward the door. He closed it, effectively telling her to stay.
“Professor Logan, I should…” She reached past him for the door handle. His hand closed over hers, and she froze. An electrical current zinged between them, the warmth of his touch made her weak and hungry for more. “I should go.”
I hope you enjoyed this week’s teaser. Please feel free to leave comments.
Crispin has returned. Enjoy
No warning today…*wink*
Ruby approached a small cottage tucked near the edge of the clearing, alongside a less traveled road. She hoped Marian was home. There was only one person she could trust, the only person who would understand.
Sliding from the saddle, Ruby tethered the horse to a post outside the cottage. She licked her lips and raised her hand to knock, when the door opened. A pair of friendly hazel eyes set in a wrinkled, well seasoned face met hers.
“Ah, my little gem,” the old woman said with a chuckle. “Come in, child, come in.” She moved aside, welcoming Ruby into her home.
The small cottage held a simplicity and warmth, embracing her as she stepped into the room. A savory stew simmered on the stove, its tantalizing scent curling around her. Her stomach growled in response. She pressed her hand to her middle and glanced at the old woman, embarrassed.
“Sit,” Marian commanded, motioning to the table. She went to the pot hanging over the fire and ladled the steaming stew into a small bowl. Setting it before her, Marian slid into the chair across the table and watched her.
Ruby devoured every morsel. Her full stomach warmed and the warmth infused her whole body. She sighed, contented.
“What happened?” Marian’s tone made her look up at the old woman. Her wise eyes missed nothing it seemed.
“I believe I’ve made a terrible mistake.” Ruby buried her face in her hands. She took a deep breath and then looked at the old woman again. Marian had been there for her years before, when she had been wandering through the forest, cold and alone. The kind woman had taken her in, clothed her, fed her, and then taught her to survive and how to fight. Most importantly, she taught her how to make a difference.
“Well, it could always be worse, you could have gotten caught,” Marian said in an attempt to soothe her. Ruby laughed.
“I rescued a man several nights ago. Saved him from being killed outside a brothel.”
“As I taught you to do, help those who cannot help themselves.”
“It was the prince.” Ruby’s voice trembled. Marian’s eyes widened slightly, her withered hand clenching into a fist and releasing repeatedly. She pressed on. “I gave myself to him.”
Marian’s jaw opened and closed a few times, no sound emerging. With a heavy exhale, she finally found her voice. “You’d better start at the beginning, child.”
Thanks for stopping by. Comments and questions are always welcome.