Lucidity (20 page)

“Sure you’re up for this? With no food, no sleep, bullet wound and bum leg?” she whispered, moving provocatively against his arousal. “Fixing the world can be tough on a body.”

He smiled at her, gray eyes gleaming with want, and she wondered how she’d ever thought him grim. “Guess we’ll just have to keep hammering away at it, won’t we?”

Oh yes, she thought as he began the first of many assaults on her senses. Oh, yes. She could definitely do that too.

About the Author

Raine is a Weaver of dreams, a teller of tales, and has wanted to be a writer her entire life. In the sanctuary of her little enchanted cottage she creates seductive heroines and brooding heroes—her own worlds, her own reality.

You can find out more about Raine and her books at
www.raineweaver.com
, and contact her at
[email protected]
.

Look for these titles by Raine Weaver

Now Available:

Let’s Pretend

The Last Man on Earth

Hotter than Hell

This is NOT a test…

The Last Man on Earth

© 2008 Raine Weaver

Iris Foley and Russell Carr are old friends who share everything. As they indulge in a marathon viewing of old, campy horror films on a stormy Halloween night, they are suddenly faced with the very real possibility that something has happened to the outside world.
 

Just as the last gasp of the Emergency Broadcast System issues a dire warning, they are plunged into isolation and darkness. Naturally, they decide to do what any frightened, civic-minded young couple would do.

They decide to have sex.

Now if only old fears, a surprise adversary, and the Apocalypse wouldn’t keep getting in their way…

Warning: this title contains explicit sex, but all references to alien coochie have been censored.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
The Last Man on Earth
:

He watched her scoop up the last of her scrambled eggs, enjoying every mouthful, as if it was her last meal on earth.

He, unfortunately, had not been able to swallow a bite.

“Okay.” Iris finished the small sample of orange juice he’d provided and, satisfied, sat back in the dining room chair. “I’m relaxed. I’m well fed. I’ve taken the time to think things through, just as you asked. Can we have sex now?”

He blanched, using his fork to stab his cold sausage in frustration. “Iris. This is not something to be taken lightly. Just because there’s no electricity—”

She laughed, and the sound of tinkling light filled the old, cold house. “You think I want to have sex with you because there’s nothing on
television
?”

“I didn’t say that. I think…I just don’t want you doing something rash under duress, something you’ll regret afterward.”

“Suppose there is no afterward?”

“Stop that! Everything is fine.”

“But just suppose—”

“No. Let’s have
you
just suppose.” A wee, small voice somewhere in the back of his head was screaming at him in its wee, small way:
“What the hell are you doing, man? She wants us!”

No, it didn’t seem to be coming from his head at all; it was coming from a lower, far more sensitive extremity, one that seemed to be making him feverish and edgy and more impatient by the minute. “Suppose this is all, as I said, just the result of a pre-winter storm and some freakish blurb of dialogue we picked up at exactly the wrong time. And suppose, due to this misunderstanding, we go ahead and do this—this thing you’re suggesting. How are you going to feel when the lights come back on?”

She nodded slowly. “You mean, will I still respect you in the morning?”

“You think this is
funny
?” he retorted. “I’m serious! I promised your brother when he went into the Navy that I’d look out for you, take care of you. We have a life-long friendship going here, a business partnership, and I don’t…” He paused, scrubbing his face with his hands. “I don’t want to lose that.”

Her smile faded into softness. “That’s either the sweetest thing anybody’s ever said to me, or—or you’re trying to let me down easy. If you don’t want to have sex with me, Russ, just tell me. I’ll understand.”

“I never said—”

“I mean, we’re not talking serious commitment or anything.”

“It’s not that—”

“And it’s not as if we’re total strangers.”

“I’m just worried that—”

“Then you’re saying it would be all right for us to climb all over each other if we were
not
friends?”

He pounded the tabletop with both fists. “God, woman, you’re making me
crazy
here.”

“You wouldn’t have to worry about a thing,” she persisted. “I don’t expect you to suddenly get the hots for me because I suddenly want to ‘do it’. I know you don’t think of me that way. But I’d handle all the preliminaries, do all the persuading, take care of everything. You could just sit back and enjoy—or tolerate, whichever you prefer. I mean, it’s not about lust or anything silly like that. We could just be fuc—er, sex buddies. Just for whatever time we might have left. I’d try to make it worth your while.”

“Dammit, Iris, here I am trying to be noble, and—” He paused, eyes widening. “What did you say?”

She looked downward, her cheeks coloring slightly. “I said I’d spare you the effort. I said I’d be happy to seduce you. Or give it a try, anyway.”

He fell back in his chair, his body boneless.

Dear God. It really
was
the end of the world.

“We could start now, if you think you can manage. I’d like to get as much in as possible.”

He blinked, then blinked harder, his thoughts losing the race against his hormones. “Iris? That is you sitting there, isn’t it? I mean, you didn’t have any memory lapses last night, or dreams about being abducted by aliens?”

“It’s almost funny,” she said wistfully. “Here I was, wallowing in celibacy because the jerk I was with wanted sex without an emotional relationship—and now I’m propositioning a man who just wants a relationship without sex. Isn’t that funny?”

Oh, yeah. Funny. He was laughing so hard inside his testicles ached. “I…I don’t know what to say—”

“I think it’s the right thing to do. It’s strange that we never think of these things,” she mused. “We live as if we’ve got all the time in the world. Well, I don’t know how much time I’ve got left. I guess nobody does. And I’d like to squeeze in as much living as possible.”

Russ stuttered, choking on the words he wanted to say to her, the words he couldn’t find.

“You’ve always been so sweet, so caring, so honest with me,” she said gently. “I can’t think of anybody I’d rather do this with.”

He brushed the pang of guilt quickly aside, his gaze focusing on her generous mouth, and what it would be like to have it prompt him into hardness, to have her slip those taut, round nipples into his mouth, to feast until she begged for something more…

And he wouldn’t have to say a word? No bumbling attempts to explain his feelings, no coaxing, no persuading, no seduction?

He leaned forward in his chair, ready for action. Even if it was the Judgment Day, God would understand. He was, after all, a masculine God. Everybody knew that. “You said something about starting
now
?”

A delighted smile spread across her face. “You agree then? You really don’t mind?”

He humbly shrugged, reaching for her hand. “You’re one of my best friends, sweetie. I think I understand. If this is the end, I wouldn’t want you to check out feeling deprived, or denying yourself the pleasure of one last sexual encounter. Let’s go upstairs and—”

“No,” she said firmly. “It’s cold up there, and I don’t want to waste any time. How about right here, on the couch in front of the fire? Will that do?”

He was dizzy, actually deliriously dizzy with excitement. “Well, if that’s what you want, I’ll try to manage. For you.”

“Good!”

She pushed away from the table and grabbed his hand, eagerly leading him to the sofa. He blindly followed, his mind muddled with disbelief. After all this time, and all his wasted planning, she was really going to be his. And he didn’t have to cloak the proposition in champagne, or worry about getting tongue-tied and flustered.

It was a gift.

He watched her from behind, already imagining what it would be like to get his hands on that tempting tush, to feel her feverish against him, to savor her mouth, rather than resign himself to the usual friendly peck on the lips.

Russ took a deep breath, trying to control himself. If he wasn’t careful, she’d wonder why he was already hard enough to cut diamonds.

She placed him in the center of the sofa and sat beside him, chewing the nail of her forefinger. And there she sat. And sat, forever, it seemed to him, nibbling away. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, trying to appear relaxed, fervently praying that she had not changed her mind. “Okay,” he ventured, trying to sound casual. “Here we are.”

“This is sorta awkward, isn’t it?” She gave a nervous, tittering laugh. “It’s just occurred to me that I’ve never seduced a man before. Never had to.”

“I don’t suppose so,” he muttered, a pang of jealousy knifing through him. “That’s probably all Gary and Milton ever thought about.”

“Why do we keep coming back to Milton Edwards? I told you I never slept with him.”

This was not the time to provoke an argument. This was the time to fulfill his fantasies. “Sorry. Guess I just feel like neither of them deserved you. And this is a tricky situation for me, too. I’m not accustomed to being so…passive.”

She smiled, resting her hand on his thigh. “I think I like that. That makes this more of a challenge, more interesting, doesn’t it?”

God, if it were any more interesting he’d shoot the works before she even started.

They’re in it to win it—or die trying.

Ricochet

© 2011 Sandra Sookoo

Willa Rayes, only daughter of a legendary Lingorian fighter pilot, can fly any ship in the galaxy. Better than her brothers, in fact. But does that get her any respect? Not as long as she has breasts. Winning the Nebulon Trike will not only force her family to notice her, it’ll be her declaration of independence from men in general.

Then she meets her race partner, Stratton Sinnet. Arrogant and chauvinistic, he ignites her libido like no man ever before. And threatens to send her well-planned strategy straight to hell.

A bounty hunter by trade, Sin enters the Trike for one reason: money. Somewhere among the racers his quarry is hiding, but he’s not worried. He always gets his man, and winning the race will be a nice bonus. It sure would be a hell of a lot easier, though, if he wasn’t saddled with a know-it-all navigator who’s getting on his last nerve—and under his skin.

As the checkpoints go by and the danger escalates, the fight for control, the lead—and satisfaction—approaches supernova heat. Burning away their resistance, and the tough shells that protect their one vulnerability…their hearts.

Warning
:
This story contains a hot, bald bounty hunter whose sex appeal rivals his cockiness; a smart-mouthed pilot who refuses to let a mere male beat her in anything; and love scenes that’ll make you'll think a star exploded. Dramamine recommended to counteract the effects of fancy flying.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Ricochet:

Willa cringed when their craft, the
Anomaly
, shuddered before resuming its smooth flow through the star-dotted blackness. The idiot was going to ruin their chances of making good time if he insisted on such a careless attitude. “Is there a reason you have your feet propped on the control panel?” She stared pointedly at his dusty boots. They rested perilously close to the button that would dump reactor-core waste all over the course. “Obviously, you have no respect for your ship.”

“As long as it gets me to where I need to go, I don’t care. And as for your question, there’s no need to be alert at this point.”

“Ah, such a wonderful work ethic.” She gritted her teeth. Of all the men to be stuck with, the powers-that-be gave her him. “When would you like to start the GCCs? I haven’t programmed them in yet, since I don’t know—”

“Willa, just stop, all right?” Stratton squirmed into an upright position, slammed his feet onto the floor and swiveled his chair around to face her. “We don’t need course corrections at the moment. We’ve been in space for an hour. Relax.” His glare sent a tremor down her spine. “If you feel the need to make asinine conversation to fill the silence, fine, but don’t expect an answer from me.”

She attempted to avert her gaze from his spread legs and crotch, but her willpower had dissolved. In the mandatory slick gear, there was no doubt that Stratton Sinnet had the necessary equipment to please the ladies. The black suit hugged his body so tightly, she clearly saw the outline of his abdominal muscles, as well as the bulge between his legs. Insistent heat rushed to her pussy, made doubly uncomfortable by the uniform.