BAUMGARTNER GENERATIONS: JANIE

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The Baumgartner series continues, this time exploring Janie’s world as she moves to New York to try to make it as a writer, all the while serving as part-time lover in a polyamorous relationship with Veronica and TJ and full-time nanny to their daughter, Beth. Janie’s life is already incredibly full when she—literally—runs into an agent one morning who sees great potential in her—and not just as a writer. As Janie’s relationship with Josh blooms and her career takes off, Ronnie’s happy surprise turns into a problem that even a vacation in a mountain cabin with the Baumgartners can’t fix, throwing everyone’s life off-kilter. Janie, especially, is spread thin, trying to please everyone while keeping Josh from finding out the true nature of her relationship with her benefactors. She knows she has to tell him eventually, but fear holds her back. Will she lose him? Will she be forced to make an impossible choice? Or will she, perhaps, find that the capacity for the human heart to love is, indeed, endless?

Warnings: This title contains graphic language and sex, ffm menage and ff sex.

Word Count: 56,356

EXCERPT:

“I think you might have the best job in the world,” Josh said as he opened my door for me.

“She’s a great kid,” I agreed. It was hard to think with him standing so close.

“Are you cold?” He looked down at the front of me. My white sundress had become suddenly see-through, my nipples standing straight up in the cold. “Do you want my coat?”

“I can think of better things to keep me warm.” I turned my eyes up to him, aching to be kissed. His eyes lingered on my mouth, but instead he smiled and stepped away, going over to the driver’s side.

I sighed, getting in beside him as he started the car and turned on the heater.

“So did you have a busy day today?” I asked as he backed out and shifted the car into gear.

“No more busy than usual,” he replied, turning into traffic.

“Oh.” I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering in spite of the heater. I slipped off my heels and tucked my feet under me.

“Why?” He glanced over at me, frowning.

I shrugged, not looking at him. “I just wondered why you hadn’t called…”

He was quiet for a moment, weaving through traffic. “Do you want to know the truth?”

I nodded, turning to look at him. His hair was wet, drops of water beading there. I resisted the urge to touch him.

“I didn’t trust myself,” he said as the Mustang snarled to life when he headed onto the freeway.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I want you too much, Janie.” He sighed. “Every time I look at you, every time I hear your voice, I just want to…”

I smiled, turning fully toward him now. “To what…?”

“To do very, very naughty things.” He glanced at me as I moved toward him.

“I do, too.” I leaned over the console to press fully against him, my breasts crushed against his arm.

“Do you?” His mouth was almost touching mine when he turned his head toward me, and I closed the gap, kissing him quickly.

“You have no idea,” I breathed.

He took a deep breath, turning his eyes back to the road. “So, right now, you’re thinking about it?”

“I’ve been thinking about it since dinner last night.” I slid my hand up the leg of his trousers, finding just what I was looking for, distended and rising fat and stiff under the material.

“Well, I can beat that.” He drew his breath in sharply when I massaged him, making delicious friction with my palm through his pants. “I’ve been thinking about it since I found you in my living room.”

“So what, exactly, have you been thinking?” I couldn’t help myself. His cock throbbed stubbornly against my hand, demanding attention. I couldn’t resist, slowly beginning to unzip him. I felt his whole body stiffen when I slipped my hand down to grasp him. Oh god, yes. He was solid in my hand.

“I’d rather show you.” His voice grew low as I began to stroke him, lazy, up and down.

“I know.” I leaned over the gearshift to take him into my mouth.

“Ahhhh Janie.” One hand moved in my hair as I swallowed his length, the other stayed on the wheel. The console dug into my hip as I turned and stretched across to suck him, but I didn’t care.

“Oh god.” He groaned as I licked the head, teasing, enjoying the taste and feel of him. “Baby, ohhh… I’m not sure this is the time…or place…”

“I want you,” I insisted as his hand moved over the front of my dress, manipulating my breast through the material, pawing at the hard pebble of my nipple. I grabbed his hand, guiding it down between my legs where I wanted it most, quickly pulling my dress up and my panties aside. His intake of breath was audible when he felt my cunt under his fingers, pure wet heat, as humid as a greenhouse, and I shifted against him. “You just concentrate on driving and don’t kill us,” I instructed before taking him into my mouth again.

“Okay,” he breathed, his fingers exploring my fleshy crease, my tongue making flat circles around the head of his cock. “Oh god, Janie, your mouth is so good…”

I made an eager noise in my throat as I sucked him, using both my mouth and hand now, washing him with my saliva. The sound of his breathing, harsh and heavy, filled the car.

“Put your fingers in me,” I begged, spreading my thighs wider for him. “Finger my pussy. Fuck me.”

He groaned and slid two fingers in, pumping his hand against my cunt. “Like that?”

“Mmmmm!” I responded around his cock, feeling the length of him swell as I fucked him back, thrusting his fingers in deep. “Hard! Harder!”

He got even more rough, his hand driving, relentless, making me go crazy on his cock. God I wanted to climb him like a tree and ride him, but what we were doing was dangerous enough. The car was barreling along the highway, thundering underneath me as I sucked him, his cock like velvet granite, tasting his pre-cum and slaving for more.

“Oh fuck, Janie, baby, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna come!”

Why in the world would I stop? There was no way—the meaty onslaught of his cock in my mouth made my pussy beg for release. His fingers curled inside me, his hips vaulting upward, and I sucked him, tight-fisted, gulping, faster, more. “Ahhhhhh!”

The sound he made when he came, like a snarl caught in his throat, was a sweet, staccato symphony to my ears as he flooded my mouth with cum. I swallowed all of it hungrily, wiggling over the console, trying to get even more of him. His cock grew fat with every fresh throb and I worked him with my fist, too, draining him dry.

“Oh damn,” he whispered as I sat up, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and looking over at him with half-closed eyes. “That was…”

His eyes widened when he looked over at me, leaning back against the passenger door and putting one bare foot up on the console. My dress was pulled up to my hips, my panties tugged aside, my pussy exposed.

“Josh, the road,” I reminded him, noticing we were swerving into the next lane.

“Right.” His gaze shifted and he adjusted the vehicle, sighing as he glanced at me again. His fingers found his way to his mouth, sucking my juices as he watched me reach down and spread my red and swollen lips. “Now I just want to return the favor. You taste so fucking good.”

“Do I?” I dipped my fingers into my honey and brought them to my mouth.

He groaned. “Don’t make me pull this car over, young lady.”

“Promises, promises,” I teased.

He turned the wheel, heading for the shoulder of the road, and I laughed. “No! Don’t you dare!”

Sighing, he righted things, working the gearshift to send us rocketing even faster down the highway. “If you knew how much I wanted you…”

“Show me.” I reached for his hand, guiding it between my legs, sliding down to give him easier access.

I saw him swallow, but his eyes were on the road as his fingers began to explore, making me moan when he nudged my clit.

“Rub it for me,” I purred, working the buttons on my sundress from the top down. He did as I asked, stealing glances as he made circles with his thumb against my clit.

“Jesus, Janie,” he whispered as I pulled my bra down, exposing my breasts and playing with my nipples.

“The road,” I murmured, moaning as his fingers slipped inside, his thumb still working my clit.

“I can’t concentrate,” he groaned, turning his gaze half-back to the highway. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“Don’t stop,” I begged, rocking against his hand, biting my lip. “Oh Josh, please, please, make me come.”

He sank his fingers into me, faster, harder, the wet sound of my pussy being fucked filling the car. I asked for more, more, and he fingered me, hammering my cunt until I wailed and careened against the seat, finally throwing my head back and howling as I came, knowing I was getting the leather upholstery soaked, saturating his hand with the sticky copious sap of my cunt. My pussy clamped down again and again as I keened and twisted, completely at the mercy of my climax, lost in the pure pleasure of my orgasm.

“Oh. My. God.” I opened my eyes, first seeing the sky, the color of gun metal, still raining down silver, and then catching the sight of the guy in the semi-truck driving next to us, staring down at me with wide eyes and a huge grin on his face. “Oh! God!”

SHORN

by Selena Kitt

Sam is the older woman, secretly dating a younger man. But she just can’t help herself. From those big hands on her body to the sexy sheen of his dark, shaved head, Del is simply irresistible. When the younger man suggests a private shaving session, Sam finds herself under his spell once again in this modern, sexy and delightfully reversed Samson and Delilah.

Warnings: This title contains graphic language and interracial sex.

Word Count: 5,180

Price: $1.99

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EXCERPT:

“Are you going to see her tomorrow?” I slanted him the question.

He hesitated, and I wondered if he was going to play dumb. He didn’t, but—as usual—he didn’t give me a straight answer either. “You have a beautiful cunt, you know that?” His eyes fell to the triangle between my legs.

“Thank you.” I smiled, knowing he was trying to distract me, and I let him. I put my feet up on the counter, opening my thighs, giving him a better view. “So, are you going to see her?”

“Samantha.” He said my name with a sigh. I didn’t reply but just watched him instead.

“I might.” He used the razor over the few spots he’d missed. I waited. “Probably.” I just gave him more silence as he wiped his face clean with a towel. “Yeah, I guess.”

“I figured.”

He put some shaving cream on the tip of his finger and touched my nose with it.

I rolled my eyes. “Jerk!” I wiped it off with my hand, dabbing it onto the tuft of my pubic hair with a grin.

His eyes lit up, and he reached over and opened the top drawer under where I was sitting, pulling out a pair of manicure scissors.

“I was kidding!” I grabbed his towel and wiped off the shaving cream.

“I’m not.” He snapped the scissors open and closed, his dark eyes flashing, his grin devious.

“I thought you liked it!” I cried. He had often said how much he liked that I was a natural blond, the hair between my legs just a shade darker than the strawberry-blonde hair on my head. Our physical differences, the natural contrast, the strawberry cream and black coffee of our skin together, only served to drive our passion to further heights.

“Mmm, I do.” He knelt on the floor so he was eye-level between my legs, leaning in and kissing all around my pubic hair. “But I’d love to lick your pussy when it was shaved.”

I touched the curly, wiry mass of hair. I had never trimmed or shaved there. “I wonder what it would feel like…”

“Want to find out?” He showed me the scissors again. Seeing him eyeing my bits with a sharp implement in his hands was quite a shock.

“I don’t know.” I bit my lip. “Do we have time?”

“Plenty.” His lips brushed my thigh as he breathed my scent. The sight of his dark, smooth, newly shaved head between my legs elicited an immediate response, and I felt myself opening to him. “Don’t you trust me?”

I sighed. “Should I?”

“Yes.” His fingers probed my slit, spreading it open. He kissed my clit, his lips soft against my flesh.

“Okay,” I breathed, leaning back against the mirror as his tongue moved through my wetness.

“I want to kiss her goodbye.” He eased his way through, making his tongue into a sharp little point to probe inside of me. I moaned when his fingers replaced his tongue, sliding deep into my flesh as his mouth moved over my clit. I was still surprised at how skilled he was at this, how attentive, how eager to please.

BAUMGARTNER GENERATIONS: JANIE

COMING JUNE 4, 2010

The Baumgartner series continues, this time exploring Janie’s world as she moves to New York to try to make it as a writer, all the while serving as part-time lover in a polyamorous relationship with Veronica and TJ and full-time nanny to their daughter, Beth. Janie’s life is already incredibly full when she—literally—runs into an agent one morning who sees great potential in her—and not just as a writer. As Janie’s relationship with Josh blooms and her career takes off, Ronnie’s happy surprise turns into a problem that even a vacation in a mountain cabin with the Baumgartners can’t fix, throwing everyone’s life off-kilter. Janie, especially, is spread thin, trying to please everyone while keeping Josh from finding out the true nature of her relationship with her benefactors. She knows she has to tell him eventually, but fear holds her back. Will she lose him? Will she be forced to make an impossible choice? Or will she, perhaps, find that the capacity for the human heart to love is, indeed, endless?

Warnings: This title contains graphic language, sex, and menage.

Word Count: 51,125

EXCERPT:

Prologue

I think I was almost two years old when my brother Henry came along. I admit, I don’t remember looking forward to having a sibling. I was pretty mad about the whole thing. My mother still tells people about the time I used an entire bottle of Elmer’s glue to try and seal the baby’s room door shut—and he hadn’t even arrived yet. Besides, he was getting my old room, the one with the fun window you could crank open on hot days, and what good was that going to be for a baby, anyway?

It didn’t matter that I had brand new wallpaper in my new room with ladybugs that were as soft as velvet to the touch—the room that used to be Daddy’s office with the big oak desk—or that my mother had taken me shopping to find the perfect ladybug bedspread to match. It didn’t matter that I had a new big-girl bed with a tall canopy and wispy white curtains that billowed in the breeze from the open window like sails.

It didn’t matter, because I was sure, once that baby came, no one would love me anymore.

It was after the Elmer’s glue incident, after my Daddy had threatened to paddle me within an inch of my life—he never did, he never touched either of us in anger that way, but he would say it sometimes and it was the one time I really believed he might actually do it—I finally crawled into my mother’s lap and laid my soul bare.

She didn’t rush to reassure me or change my already-made-up little mind. She just rocked me gently and let me cry about it for a while.

Finally, she asked, “You love me, don’t you, Janie?”

I nodded against her breast, easily giving her the reassurance I was looking for myself.

“And you love your daddy, don’t you, precious?” She stroked my hair, long and blonde like hers, only a few shades lighter.

“Yes,” I agreed, squirming in her lap, already sensing somehow what was coming.

“But how can you love us both?”

Her question stopped me and I stared up at her, my mouth gaping, the realization slowly dawning. She whispered, “Our hearts are so big, Janie, that we can always love. No matter what. We always have room to love someone else.” Then she laughed and cuddled me close. “Besides, we’re Baumgartners. We can love the whole world if we want to.”

And it was true. They loved me and they loved my brother, and we both loved them. We were a family—we were the Baumgartners, and we Baumgartners could love the whole world.

At the time, my mother was just reassuring a jealous sibling, saying something to comfort me when my world was about to expand beyond my usual, comfortable boundaries.

Years later, though, pressed between two warm bodies under the sheets, I would remember her words, and they would take on a whole new meaning.

I was resistant to the idea at first, sure that I wouldn’t get enough love, enough attention, that my world would come crashing down if I included anyone else, but I was proven wrong then, and I was proven wrong later. Experience proved me wrong again and again, opening my heart wider with every new encounter.

I was a Baumgartner. I was made to love—often and well. My mother was right. She always is.

Sometimes I think I really could love the whole world, if the world gave me a chance.

e world, if the world gave me a chance.

Ty has been hurt by life and has sworn off relationships, but his curiosity is piqued by a motorcycle-riding hunk who comes through his Wal-Mart line and buys the same thing day after day: two Slim Jims, a sixty-four count box of crayons and Cracker Jacks. Ty’s curiosity gets the better of him and he goes out with Jonah, but Ty’s best friend, Lucky, is sure Jonah is bad news, and it does seem that both mens’ pasts threaten their future together. Will they find a second chance with one another?

Warnings: This title contains m/m and anal sex.

Word Count: 10,005

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You can also find this story in Excessica’s first gay male anthology: Stuck On You

EXCERPT:

As the electronic front doors parted for me, I hesitated, realizing I didn’t even know his name. He saw me and waved me over, waiting out front just like he said, sitting on the biggest, loudest motorcycle I’d ever seen in my life. It apparently went with the boots.

“Let’s walk!” I yelled over the noise of the engine, hugging my arms across my chest. “It’s just across the street.”

“Are you serious?” He frowned. “Come on, hop on!”

“I can’t ride on that thing!” I hated admitting it, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.

“How come?”

“Long story.” I took a step back from the bike as he revved the engine.

“All right.” He rode the motorcycle into a parking space and I walked over to meet him.

“So what’s your name?” I asked as we started across the parking lot.

“Jonah,” he replied, pocketing his keys. “You’re…” He glanced over at me and made a face. “Tybalt? Really?”

“Ty,” I corrected, rolling my eyes and reaching for my name tag. I always forgot about it. I unpinned it and slid it into my pocket.

“Hot-headed?” he asked, putting his arm straight out in front of me to keep me from crossing the street and I smiled at the gesture. We weren’t near an intersection, and Denny’s was directly across, so we had to essentially jaywalk.

“Me?” I laughed, a sound that surprised me. How long had it been since I laughed like that? “I’m more kitten than tiger.”

He gave me a quick, sideways look, but there was a bit of heat in it and I flushed, hurrying after him across the street.

“I just thought…you know, Tybalt, from the play…” He opened the door to Denny’s, holding it and waving me in. “So your mother was a Shakespeare fan?”

“You read Shakespeare?” I watched him signal the hostess. Her eyes widened slightly and lit up when she got a look at him—not that I blamed her. The man was like a walking god in denim and motorcycle boots. But I couldn’t help the stab of jealousy I felt when she came over and greeted him, touching his arm, laughing and tucking her hair behind her ear as she led us to a table.

Me, I couldn’t be so obvious. I sat across from him in the booth and hid behind my menu until she went away with our drink orders—a Coke for me and an iced tea for him—our hostess now doubling as waitress. I wondered bitterly if she’d traded someone for our table.

“‘Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once,’” Jonah quoted, folding his menu and sliding it behind the salt and ketchup.

I blinked at him over my menu. “Are we filming a reality TV version of Pulp Fiction? Are you going to pull out a gun and start talking about righteousness and furious anger?”

He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound. “Julius Caesar might have lived if he’d had a gun.”

“You’re certainly well-read.” I raised an eyebrow at him and tried to study my menu. The words were swimming.

“Well…” He shrugged and I was almost pleased to see him looking a little embarrassed. “Actually, I just know that one quote. I thought it was cool back in high school, cowards and valor and all that. I probably just said it to impress you.”

I didn’t say anything as the waitress set down our drinks and tried, again, to flirt with Jonah. He smiled and nodded and told her to come back for our order and I sat there, feeling very pleased with myself for no reason at all.

“My brother’s name is Romeo,” I admitted, peeling open my straw.

“Oh no, you’re kidding me!” Jonah grinned. “Do you have a sister named Juliet?”

“No sisters. Thank god she just had us two.” I snorted. “So is there a story behind your name? A whale, maybe?”

He chuckled, squeezing lemon into his iced tea. “No whales. No brothers or sisters, either. Just me.”

“Your parents?”

He shook his head and shrugged, his eyes on some distant point as he drank. “They’re dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

The appearance of the waitress again kept me from moving past perfunctory platitudes.

Jonah ordered. “Southwestern skillet. Extra spicy.”

And so did I. “Chocolate chip pancakes. Extra syrup.”

I think the waitress finally got the hint, because she disappeared quickly this time.

“Sweet tooth?” Jonah remarked as she left.

“I’m afraid so.” I smiled.

He appraised me slowly. “Doesn’t show.” His gaze moved heatedly, darkly down, pausing at my mouth and I had a feeling he was wishing the table wasn’t in the way of his assessment.

“Fast metabolism.” I shrugged.

“What do you weigh?” He leaned back in his seat, draping his arm across the back of the booth. His bicep was twice the size of my own. At least. “One-fifty?”

“I’m probably half your size.”

He nodded. “Just about.”

“I could never bulk up,” I admitted, sipping my Coke. “I tried pretty hard, too, back in college. What’s your secret?”

The waitress arrived, carrying a tray, and started setting dishes down. Jonah was eating before she’d even set my syrup on the table.

“Well, the military helped,” Jonah went on, ignoring her altogether, his mouth half-full of eggs. “But it’s probably mostly genetics.”

I spread butter liberally on my pancakes. “You’re in the service?”

“Was,” he corrected, waving the waitress away when she went to refill his iced tea.

I hid a smile as I poured syrup. “Army?”

“Navy.” He swallowed, those striking blue eyes sharp again. “What about you? I don’t imagine Wal-Mart is your chosen career path?”

“No.” I shrugged. “But it pays the bills for now.”

I waited for the next obvious question—what do you do? I didn’t want to talk about college, a wasted engineering degree, which would somehow lead to my life with Don and Katie. No, I really didn’t want to talk about any of it.

Instead, Jonah surprised me with a less obvious but even more shocking question: “So, are you out?”

I swallowed a sticky mess of doughy chocolate chips, washing them down with a long drink of Coke that tasted like battery acid and made my eyes water. “Mostly,” I admitted, recovered enough to answer. “Family and friends, but…my job, not so much. You?”

“I, uh…” He grinned, looking sheepish. “I was an equal opportunity sorta guy for a long time. But I’ve sort of narrowed my field of interest over the years.”

I snorted, pushing the pancakes away from me. I was entirely too full already. “Being gay in the Navy is a rather frightening stereotype.”

He winked, scooping up the last bit of his eggs with a spoon. “The Village People just liked the uniforms.”

“Well, I don’t blame them,” I replied, winking back.

His laugh, like everything about him, was irresistible. Then he surprised me again. “I want to take you home.”

His words completely disarmed me and my cock throbbed when I looked into his eyes. I had to admit, I wanted it too. If it had been ten years ago, even five, I probably would have. Instead, I said, “I have to get back to work.”

“I know. Me too,” he agreed, wiping his mouth with a napkin, his eyes never leaving mine. “But I still want to.”

“I’d like to come home with you.” Yes. God, I wanted it, too. What harm was there in the admission? But the silence that followed was dangerous. In that silence, we were already on his bike, back to his place, clothes and trepidation both dispatched. During that pause, we had already sucked and fucked our way to a blissful oblivion. I couldn’t let it go on. Clearing my throat and reaching for the check, I said, “Well, I have to punch back in…”

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CONFESSIONS by SELENA KITT

Every erotica writer will some day face the question, “Did that really happen?” The thought that there might be a glimmer of truth behind the fiction seems more titillating in erotica than any other genre. The truth is, most mystery writers have never experienced anything like a real murder, but almost all erotica writers have presumably had sex, and have certainly been shaped by early experiences. In light of that, what is contained here is a series of short scenes titled “Confessions”-because that’s just what they are, a few of the true stories that shaped my own sexual being.

Are they all completely factual?

I don’t know if a fiction writer ever writes anything that is ever completely fact. Even when we’re journaling, we’re not journalists, after all. Nor are we poets. Fiction writers tell stories, we elaborate, we give the truth “scope.” So while I will say that most, if not all, of these stories did, indeed, happen, in some sense of the word-I have certainly, as most writers do, taken liberties, and changed names to protect the innocent. Or not so innocent.

But these are my confessions, told in the same, secret whisper I might tell them to you if we were alone, sharing the heat of memory in the dark.

BLUEBEARD’S WIFE by SELENA KITT

Tara’s husband has never shared a fantasy with her, or even masturbated – that she knows of. However, this curious wife discovers a phone bill full of phone calls to sex lines and realizes her husband has been living a double life! Instead of getting mad, Tara’s curiosity leads her to begin listening in on John’s steamy conversations in hopes of finding out what he really wants in the bedroom.

After several failed attempts at bringing fantasy to reality, however, a frustrated Tara turns to her much more adventurous best friend, Kelly, for help. A quick psychology 101 diagnosis from Dr. Kelly marks John as having a classic “madonna/whore” complex, and she quickly sets about making plans to rectify this situation. Tara goes along for the ride, hoping that Kelly may have the answer to bridging the seemingly ever-growing gap in her marriage.

HEIDI AND THE KAISER

by Selena Kitt

Length: Novella

Heat Level: eXcess 3

Price: $4.99

BDSM/ROMANCE

Mousy little Heidi is a wanna-be designer who works as nothing more than a glorified go-fer for one of the largest and most well-known companies in the world of fashion. When she accidentally stains CEO Warren Kaiser’s pants, she gets two things she didn’t expect—a spanking…and a job. Kaiser hires her as his assistant, and her “training” proves to be quite a test of surrender.

EXCERPT:

Kaiser’s office building was downtown, and between traffic and finding parking, it was 11:58 a.m. by the time she burst through the main doors of the skyscraper to ask where she could find his office at the front desk. It wasn’t until that moment, with the security guard staring at her bare legs, that she realized she was still dressed for the beach in shorts and a t-shirt.

“What floor?” the woman in the pinstriped suit with the short dark bob asked as Heidi slipped onto the elevator.

“Forty-eight,” she murmured, still out of breath.

The numbers seemed to take forever to tick by, people getting on, getting off, and every time she looked at her watch, another minute had passed. By the time the elevator opened at her floor, it was 12:05 p.m. No one got off with her, and as the doors closed behind her, she looked around for a receptionist, but there was no one at the desk.

She adjusted her backpack on her shoulder—to her left was a closed door, and to her right was a hallway. As she stood, shifting from foot to foot and considering, the door to her left opened, revealing Mr. Kaiser looking at his watch.

“Five minutes late, Heidi.” He waved her in. “Come in. Take a seat.” Her belly did a little flip as she brushed by him, putting her backpack on the floor at her feet as she sat in one of the leather, wing-backed chairs facing his desk.

“I’m sorry.” She was still a little breathless as he shut the door and sat across from her. “Lenny didn’t give me your note until this morning.” Digging into her pocket, she pulled out the folded paper and held it out to him—her invitation to be here. He just leaned back, tenting his fingers, looking at the note, and eventually she let it flutter to the desk, clasping her quivering hands in her lap.

“Do you know why I asked you here?”

She shook her head, feeling her ass clenched in the chair, her thighs damp and sticking to the leather.

He frowned. “When you answer me, Heidi, I would appreciate either a spoken ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ followed by ‘Mr. Kaiser’ or ’sir.’ Do you think you can comply?”

“Oh.” She flushed, nodding, and said, “Yes, sir.”

“Now, about the reason I asked you here…” His eyes moved over her face, down to her outfit, very similar to what she had worn the day before. “It is my general impression that you don’t enjoy your job.”

Heidi opened her mouth to deny it and saw him raise his eyebrows, as if he knew what she meant to say. “Yes… sir. That’s true.”

He gave a brief nod. “I thought perhaps we might find something better suited to you at Kaiser.” She stared at him, all the breath gone from her body. Was he going to offer her a job in design?

“Can you type?” he asked, immediately dashing her hopes.

“Yes, sir.” She frowned.

He leaned forward in his chair, folding his hands and resting his arms on the desk. “You may have noticed that I don’t have an office assistant out front? My last secretary was with me for eight years, and I have yet to find a replacement for her. It’s been several months, now, and I admit, I’m becoming frustrated and I really do need someone.”

Heidi took a deep breath, glancing around the office. “I’ve never been anyone’s secretary.”

He shook his head, smiling. “Irrelevant. You have what I need.”

“I… do?” She met his eyes, her breath coming a little faster as she squirmed in her seat. His eyes were dark, moving over her, and she couldn’t help remembering the incident in the bathroom.

“I need someone who can follow orders.” He leaned back in his chair again and she could see the memory of yesterday in his eyes. “Who would be willing to do whatever I asked. You showed me yesterday that you are… quite willing.”

Heidi swallowed, pressing her damp palms to her shorts. “I’m not sure I know what you mean?”

“Yes, you do.” His eyes were smiling. “I compensate very well. You would be my assistant, answering my calls, handing my correspondence and taking care of my professional and personal needs during the day. Would you be interested in such an arrangement?”

It wasn’t the promise if money or the poshness of his office, or even the fact that he was the head of one of the richest fashion companies in the world—it was the way he looked at her, with nothing concealed or disguised. His eyes saw directly through her, and there was no smugness in the way it appeared as if he had her figured out, because he had. They both knew it, and there was only one answer she could give him.

“Yes.” She squeezed her hands together, her legs, too. “Sir.”

He gave her a nod. “Good. I think we’ll both be satisfied with the arrangement.”

Opening the top drawer of his desk, he withdrew a large white envelope and slid it across the blotter. Heidi didn’t know if she should take it or not, so she kept her hands clasped, just looking from him to the envelope.

“This contains general information about Kaiser, which you have already, of course, since you are essentially already in my employ,” he explained. “There is also a contract and information about duties as well as your salary and benefits.”

She nodded, looking at his hand, the buffed, square nails, resting on the stark envelope. Her bottom tingled, remembering how red his palm had been after he spanked her. Shifting in her seat, she crossed one knee over the other, trying to make herself more comfortable with the yearning ache between her legs.

“If, for some reason, you read those over and change your mind…” He nodded toward the envelope. “You simply need to tell me, and you will consequently stay in your current position.”

“I can’t imagine why I would object.”

“No.” He smiled. “I don’t imagine you will. In spite of the apparent haste of my offer, I actually choose my assistants quite carefully.”

Standing, he leaned his palms on the desk blotter, his eyes moving down the front of her t-shirt, looking at her hands in her lap. “Now, there is just the matter of your tardiness.”

Her heart leapt and she met his eyes, feeling faint. “My… tardiness?”

Mr. Kaiser reached underneath the desk and Heidi heard the door behind her lock. The sound made her mouth go dry.

“One of the things that I cannot abide is lateness.” He reached down and unbuckled his belt. She felt faint as she watched it slipping through the loops of his pants. “And you will find that I am quite unorthodox in my methods of discipline.”

He snapped the belt in his hands and she jumped, gasping, her hand going to her throat as she stared at him. Doubling it over, he slapped it against his palm, the belt whistling and then smacking his flesh. Heidi sat and wondered how much it would sting and she wiggled her bottom against the chair.

“It’s a Vincente.” He gave her a small smile. “Italian. Calf-skin, medium weight. Makes a nice sound, doesn’t it?” She couldn’t speak, she couldn’t move, all she could seem to do was stare at the belt in his hands as her whole body flushed with a trembling heat.

“Heidi?” He cocked his head, reminding her. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes, sir.” She drew a shaky breath.

“Come here,” he instructed, and she recognized the tone immediately and obeyed, moving around to his side of the desk, amazed that her legs were holding her weight at all given how much they were shaking.

“You remember this?” He tilted her chin up and she met his eyes, nodding. “Everything pulled down and bend over.”

A BAUMGARTNER REUNION

By Selena Kitt

www.excessica.com

Length: Novel (63527)

Category: Menage

Heat Level: eXcess 4

Price: $4.99

AVAILABLE IN EBOOK

ALSO AVAILABLE IN PRINT

Ronnie (or “Veronica” as Mrs. B always insisted on calling her) is all grown up with a family of her own, and the Christmas she babysat for the Baumgartners is just a pinpoint in her memory. That is, until a persistent suggestion of a threesome by her husband, T.J., brings it all flooding back. When she reveals how the Baumgartners and the nanny, Gretchen, had seduced her during her time in Key West, her husband takes it upon himself to make some phone calls. Opportunity, or perhaps fate, presents itself, and Ronnie and her husband get an invitation to join Gretchen and the Baumgartners on their vacation. Ronnie finds herself torn, once again, between what she wants and what someone else wants for her – or are they, after all, one in the same?

EXCERPT:

There wasn’t any preparing myself, even if I told myself there was as I stood in front of the mirror and double-checked my hair and make-up, smoothed the brown silk skirt and tucked in my blouse. I was glad I was upstairs when she rang the doorbell. Just hearing her voice made my hands tremble and I pressed them to my thighs to keep them still as I paused at the top of the stairs.

“So nice to meet you!” Gretchen’s smile was for TJ, but her look was just for me, and I knew it. She took a step toward the stairs, meeting my gaze with hungry eyes. I couldn’t help my smile, even though it felt goofy on my face as I came the rest of the way down.

“Gretchen!” Her name felt familiar in my mouth, even after all this time. “You cut your hair!”

She laughed, snaking an arm around my neck and pressing her cheek to mine. “All of them-probably several hundred times since you last saw me, sweetie.”

It was a very brief thing, that hug, but I could smell her hair, still white-blonde but cut into a short bob now, making her thin, pale face look fuller. She smelled fresh and sweet, like clover and oranges. How old was she now? I was doing the math in my head and came to the sum of thirty-four. Five years older than I was. There were the faintest lines around her eyes when she smiled, but she was still Gretchen.

“Come on in out of the cold.” TJ shut the front door against the wind and snow, offering to take Gretchen’s coat. Her dress was short, shimmering black in the lamp light as she shrugged her shoulders and let her coat slide off into TJ’s hands. I knew she’d dressed for me, just like I’d dressed for her-and I think she knew it, too, the way her eyes moved over my blouse, unbuttoned into a suggestive V. She still had much more than I did in that department, the black fabric gathered between her breasts showing quite a bit of cleavage. I noticed TJ noticing as he poured wine and we sat around the kitchen table.

“Oh my god, Ronnie, you look so amazing.” Gretchen smiled a thank you as TJ handed her a glass of wine. “I don’t think you’ve changed at all.”

“You haven’t seen my stretch marks.” I laughed, wrinkling my nose when TJ handed me a glass and setting it aside. “You look the same too-except all your hair is gone!”

“I got too old to get away with it anymore.” She winked, taking a sip and turning appreciative eyes to TJ. “Mmm, this is good!”

“It’s a petite syrah,” TJ said with a nod.

Gretchen raised her eyebrows at him and lifted her little snub nose into the air in a delicate sniff. “And something smells fantastic.” Her eyes were the same bright green, just as mischievous and not likely to miss a thing. Every time she looked my way, I felt it, like a familiar ache.

I took a long drink of wine and grimaced. “TJ’s famous spaghetti-secret recipe, straight from his grandmother in Sicily.”

“I’m so glad you called.” Gretchen sat up and reached over to touch TJ’s hand. It was brief, just a squeeze, but I noticed her long, manicured nails, painted bright red, an uncharacteristic color for her, and it reminded me sharply of Mrs. B. She turned her gaze to me again, and there it was, that feeling like someone had just reached their hand into my belly and twisted. “I’ve thought about you so often.”

I held my empty glass out to TJ, who poured with a raised eyebrow. “I’ve thought about you, too.”

It wasn’t a lie. When I’d first ended things with Gretchen, I thought about her all the time, and I knew it would drive me insane if it didn’t stop, so I did what I needed to do. Vince, the guy I was dating at the time was a personal trainer-gorgeous, ripped, he had a brilliantly rational mind but was more than a little OCD and he taught me how to get rid of Gretchen for good. I’d put a rubber band around my wrist, and every time my thoughts turned to her, I snapped it-hard. Really, really hard. Sounds silly, but it worked. Between that and the incredibly huge eleven inch cock Vince presented me with to handle at every possible occasion-I’ve never had bigger, before or since-it was enough of a distraction to get me through. But the truth was, while it worked to keep me distracted, it didn’t work all the time. No, not all the time.

Both of TJ’s eyebrows were raised at me now and I tried to change the subject. “So, how are the Baumgartners? What’s everyone up to?”

“Oh Ronnie, you wouldn’t believe how big the kids are!” Gretchen smiled, shaking her head. I nodded, remembering them frozen in time: Janie as a gawky almost-twelve and Henry as a typical nine year old boy. Mrs. B had sent me a Christmas card that first year after Gretchen and I broke up, but then I moved, and the mail only got forwarded for so long. I still had that last photo tucked away in a box full of old diaries and journals marked: “Ronnie’s Private: Keep Out.” I remembered Janie’s big front teeth and honey-colored ponytail, Henry’s lopsided smile. Gretchen was still talking “Janie’s just gorgeous, she’s got boys following her around like puppies. And Henry’s huge, like his dad. You’ll see-you’re coming to Key West with us, aren’t you? Carrie said she invited you…”

TJ and I both said “Probably,” and “I don’t know” simultaneously. Gretchen sipped her wine and looked between us, her eyes sharp.

I held my glass out for more wine. “I still can’t think of her as Carrie. To me, she’ll always be Mrs. B.”

TJ poured me half a glass and then got up to check the sauce. I watched him stirring it, feeling warm and flushed and buzzed from way too much wine for me in too short a time. I noticed Gretchen watching him, too, and felt a twinge of something-jealousy?

“So how are Mr. and Mrs. B?” I asked Gretchen as TJ came to the table with a bowl full of spaghetti.

“Doc’s practice is going gangbusters, as always.” Gretchen held her plate out as TJ started to serve dinner. “With that bedside manner, though, go figure, right?” She winked at me and I smiled, remembering Doc’s easy-going teasing, but mostly I remembered his eyes and the way they would follow me around a room wherever I went, as if he could see right through me. It suddenly occurred to me, as TJ sat down, that he and Doc shared a great deal in common when it came to looks and temperament. Funny how I’d never thought of it before.

“Carrie’s real estate business hasn’t done as well recently,” Gretchen sighed. “The market is so bad right now. It’s one of the reasons… well… things are changing for the Baumgartners. And me, too. Kids don’t stay kids-can’t be a nanny forever.”

I nodded, feeling TJ’s knees touch mine under the table as he sat and I gave him a smile. “Still, Gretch, you’ve been with them a long time.”

“I couldn’t turn down the money they offered, Ronnie.” She shrugged, twirling noodles on her plate. “And, you know… all the fringe benefits.”

That hung there, and I wondered if TJ understood as well as I did what she meant. It wasn’t just the trips to Key West and Aspen and the New England Sound. There was so much more to working for Mr. and Mrs. B…

TJ cleared his throat, his eyes moving between us. “So why did you two break up?”

“TJ!” I nudged him under the table, my eyes wide.

“I’m curious…” He shrugged. “Are we not supposed to talk about it?”

“I don’t mind.” Gretchen smiled, but her eyes were pained, and I looked down at my plate, spearing a mushroom. “Ronnie found a boyfriend.”

“The guy I dated before I met you,” I explained, wondering if Vince even remembered my name anymore.

“You know how we girls have a tendency to abandon our girlfriends when a guy shows up,” Gretchen teased. I wanted to say something, but the wine made my head feel fuzzy, as if it were too full.

“What about you, Gretchen?” TJ asked. “Did you find a girlfriend?”

“Or a boyfriend?” I chimed in, feeling desperate.

“Oh several.” Gretchen winked at TJ but the look she gave me was full of a meaning I didn’t understand. “Nothing lasting, though. I could afford to be picky, living with the Baumgartners.”

I tried to imagine what it might have been like, if Gretchen and I had never broken up. Would she have stayed their nanny, then, I wondered? Would we all have been one big, happy family? The thought filled me with a mixture of longing, regret, and a deeper feeling I didn’t even recognize at first-it was anger.

“This is the best spaghetti I’ve ever tasted.” Gretchen’s compliment made TJ blush and I smiled.

“He’s a much better cook than I am.”

“Like Doc?” Gretchen winked.

“Better.” I touched my knee to TJ’s under the table and he looked up at me, his eyes tender. “Although I admit, Doc could make a hell of a sandwich.”

“Mmm god yes.” Gretchen’s tone changed and she gave a low, throaty moan that reminded me immediately what it was like between us. Her eyes met mine and they said it all. “He still can.”

The double entendre didn’t escape any of us. I couldn’t help but remember-not only the night Doc and I snuck downstairs to make sandwiches and, while Mrs. B slept upstairs, he fucked me on the kitchen counter, but also there was the clear memory of being sandwiched between Doc and Mrs. B in more positions than I had ever imagined.

Gretchen’s hand found my knee under the table and squeezed. She leaned forward, eager, earnest. “You are coming aren’t you?”

I shrugged, not looking up. “I don’t know, Gretch…”

“Oh, Ronnie, you have to come,” she pleaded with both voice and eyes. “This is the last summer we’re all going together. Henry’s graduating this year, and I’m… well… things are changing. It would be so good, like old times…”

TRUTH OR DARE

By Selena Kitt

www.excessica.com

Length: Novel (78,608)

Category: Romance, Paranormal, Mystery/Suspense/Thriller

Heat Level: eXcess 2

Price: $5.99

AVAILABLE AS AN EBOOK

AVAILABLE IN PRINT

Dare has always been the hothead in the pair – her twin, Nick, he was the calm, cool and collected one. But now Nick is dead, found murdered in their local cemetery, and Dare, on forced leave from her job as a Chicago police officer, goes back to her childhood home to attend the funeral.

It becomes quickly apparent to Dare that the local authorities aren’t being straight with her, or anyone else, about what’s been going on in the little Midwestern town she grew up in. The detective in her kicks in and she decides to find out what—or who—has killed her brother, so she moves in temporarily with her father and stepmother, takes a job in a local bar, and starts asking questions.

Her focus soon fixes on Shane, her brother’s best friend—the town bad boy and bad seed. The tension between the two of them has always been palpable, and nothing has changed. Sparks fly as they collide, and while Dare finds herself sinking in deeper with Shane, the mystery of what happened to her brother—and an ever growing list of victims—grows even stranger.

Dare finds her past haunting her everywhere she goes as she continues to dig deeper into the circumstances of her brother’s death, and her future looms large as her fate as a police officer is about to be determined back in Chicago. With everything coming to a head, she focuses on one thing: What happened the night her brother was killed in the cemetery? She’s sure Shane knows… something… and she’s determined to find out what it is, one way or another.

EXCERPT:

Chris leaned against the wall, away from Shane, while he lined up a shot. Dare watched for a moment, unnoticed. The muscles in Shane’s arms showed, hard and sinewy, beneath the sleeves of his black t-shirt. He was concentrating, the cue stick steady as he leaned over the table, carefully calculating, although it was obviously an easy shot.

Dare grinned mischievously. “Hey guys!”

She clapped Shane, hard, on the back. The motion sent him forward, making the cue stick hit the ball. It rolled about four inches-and stopped.

“Aww.” Dare blinked innocently. “You would have made that, too.”

Shane turned to face her, smiling, but his eyes were cold and dark. She took a step back. Chris did as well, wide-eyed.

“I’m gonna kill you,” he told her in a low voice.

In that moment, as he advanced, she thought he was serious. He grabbed her arm roughly, jerking her toward him.

“Shane,” she gasped. “I was only-”

He pulled her tightly up against him and she tensed, waiting for him to do something, anything-and then he kissed her, his mouth slanting harshly across hers. She opened her eyes wide and gasped in surprise-it was all the opening he needed and his tongue touched hers.

His hold tightened, his hands moving down her uniform and then up the backs of her thighs. She relaxed against him for a moment, stunned, and his mouth grew soft and more gentle but still insistent, his hands wandering upwards. She gave into his hands, responding with a soft moan, letting herself melt against his hardness. She pushed him away only to stop herself, but she still couldn’t break free from the tight circle of his arms.

“Let me go,” she said, unable to keep her voice steady, her eyes narrowing. Surprisingly, he did.

“You’re a goddamned tease,” he gasped, and his eyes looked pained.

“No, I’m not.” She felt herself trembling and hoped he couldn’t see it.

He laughed softly, never taking his eyes from her. Chris watched them open-mouthed, but he wasn’t their only audience. Lee watched them, too, standing near the juke, and Sam’s eyes were glued to the scene as he leaned on his broom.

“Prove it, then.” The dark look in his eyes caught her breath and held it. He stepped in front of her, tilting her slightly quivering chin up with one finger. “Meet me at the path tomorrow at nine.”

She hesitated, looking at him, hating him, hating herself. She regained her voice by swallowing past something lodged in her throat and narrowed her eyes at him, jerking away. “It’ll be a cold day in hell before I meet you anywhere.”

His soft laughter followed her as she turned and walked away.

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AVAILABLE IN EBOOK AND AUDIO FORMAT!

Every erotica writer will some day face the question, “Did that really happen?” The thought that there might be a glimmer of truth behind the fiction seems more titillating in erotica than any other genre.  The truth is, most mystery writers have never experienced anything like a real murder, but almost all erotica writers have presumably had sex, and have certainly been shaped by early experiences. In light of that, what is contained here is a series of short scenes titled “Confessions”-because that’s just what they are, a few of the true stories that shaped my own sexual being.

Are they all completely factual?

I don’t know if a fiction writer ever writes anything that is ever completely fact. Even when we’re journaling, we’re not journalists, after all. Nor are we poets. Fiction writers tell stories, we elaborate, we give the truth scope. So while I will say that most, if not all, of these stories did, indeed, happen, in some sense of the word-I have certainly, as most writers do, taken liberties, and changed names to protect the innocent. Or not so innocent.

But these are my confessions, told in the same, secret whisper I might tell them to you if we were alone, sharing the heat of memory in the dark. These stories were written specifically for audio and recorded by the author. So if you literally want to hear me confess my experiences, you also have that opportunity. I have heard from readers in the past that their own experience was greatly enhanced by the audio version, so you should know that it is available for purchase on audio as well as being available in this ebook version.

EXCERPT:

When I checked out the movies, I was surprised to find that two of them were porn movies! And this wasn’t soft core stuff. How did I know? Well, I put them in, of course. I knew when they’d be home, and I knew I had a few hours before then, so I put the tape in the VCR and started to watch.

It was even more of a turn on, knowing he wanted me to watch, imagining him thinking about me, my jeans crumpled in a ball on the floor, my panties down to my knees, my legs spread and my fingers working my hot little clit as I watched women putting their asses in the air, begging to be fucked, watching huge, hard cocks sliding into wet, open pussies. I came once, fast and hard, but feeling guilty, I turned off the movie and quickly got dressed.

I tried to distract myself. I checked on the baby. He was fine. I ate some of their ice cream and watched MTV. But my eyes kept going to those cases on top of the entertainment center, and the ache between my legs just grew… and grew… Until I couldn’t resist, and I put the movie back in again.

I wasn’t going to touch myself. That’s what I insisted when I put the movie in and sat on the couch. I just wanted to see… but as I watched, I felt myself getting wetter, my whole pussy throbbing.

I rubbed my hand over my jeans, laying back on the couch pillows, twisting with lust as I watched the blonde on the screen sucking his cock, his fingers playing with her hard nipples.I touched my own nipples, making them hard, watching as he bent her over and began to lick her pussy from behind. I couldn’t help it.

I unzipped my jeans and slipped my hand inside, my pussy incredibly hot and wet under my fingers as I began to touch myself. He stood behind her, sliding his cock up and down her wet slit, and I wondered what it would feel like. At sixteen, I still hadn’t had a cock inside of me yet, although I’d had one in my hand and in my mouth. What would it feel like to be fucked, I wondered?

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Orpheus returns from war to discover Eurydice has been faithful to him, only to lose her again to tragedy. Determined to get her back, he ventures to the Underworld armed with nothing but his famous lyre.

EXCERPT:

“If you spend any more time in there, you’re going to turn into a mermaid!”

Eurydice lifted her dark head from where she was reclining in the water, seeing the centaur pawing at the edge of her stream. “Chiron!” Her eyes widened in surprise and delight. She grinned. “Nymphs aren’t mermaids, horse-boy. You just want to turn everyone half-breed, don’t you?”

The centaur snorted, sounding very horse-like in spite of his human torso. “Not if they all turn out like my brothers. I swear I’m the only civilized one in the lot.”

Eurydice stood, twisting the water out of her long, dark hair, and saw Chiron’s eyes moving over her nude form appreciatively. She smiled at him as she stepped out, patting his chestnut flank as she reached for her wrap. It was the standard Greek dress for women, a long, thin strip of material she wound about her body in an intricate way. It clung to her curves. “You certainly are the best of them. What are you doing here, anyway?”

His dark eyes moved over her body before she finished pulling the material around her and closing it without any fasteners. He cleared his throat, running a hand through his long, dark hair. “Apollo insisted I come for the whole ‘Find Aristaeus a Wife’ shindig, since I was apparently responsible for his birth, or some such rot.”

“Hazards of being an oracle, huh?” Eurydice’s hand moved over the horse’s back, feeling the strong muscles there. “Didn’t you introduce Apollo to Aristaeus’ mother?”

“Not exactly. I think the exact prophecy, as I recall, was Apollo would take the nymph, Cyrene, to Libya, where she would bear him a son, named Aristaeus-he who would become revered among men for his skills with the land and the animals.” Chiron shrugged, looking over his broad shoulder at her. “Eurydice, dear, if you don’t stop petting me like that, my baser natures may just take over.”

“Sorry.” She dropped her hand with a blush. “It’s just such a nice, shiny coat.”

“And you are a glistening star.” His rump swung around as he faced her, stunningly human completely from the waist up. “You know how I have a thing for nymphs.”

“Nymphs are nigh irresistible when we want to be.” She cleared her throat and changed the subject. “So this nymph, Cyrene-how could she travel so far from her domain?”

He gave her a sad look. “She was a Nereid, not a Naiad, like you, my dear.”

“Oh.” Eurydice’s hopeful eyes dropped, and she sat on the bank of the stream with a sigh. “So basically, as long as she was near the sea, she could travel anywhere she wanted?”

“Yes.”

“But I’m stuck here by this little creek.” She sighed, kicking at the water with her foot.

“You love your stream.”

“Yes, well…sometimes I think it does not love me.”

Chiron’s tail swished. “I’m sure there are many men-or half-men-who might settle with you here beside your waters.”

“Oh Chiron…” She reached up and patted his flank. “I love you like a brother, you know that.”

“Well, my dear, there will be plenty of men to choose from at Apollo’s son-worshipping.” He snorted at his own pun and she smiled, shaking her head. “Won’t you at least accompany me? So few give me as much pleasure with their very company as you do.”

She laughed; standing and stretching. “With all the honey you spread with your words, I’m surprised you haven’t attracted more than just flies, horse-boy!”

He grinned. “Wanna go for a ride?”

“I thought you’d never ask!” She eyed his back, long and sleek. Placing her bare foot in the stirrup he made with his hands, she swung her leg over his flank, arranging her robe and settling herself on his back.

“Love that little wiggle.” He glanced over his shoulder and waggled his eyebrows at her.

“You’re so bad!” She slapped him near the tail with her hand and his eyes widened.

“Watch it-I like that too much.”

She laughed, wrapping her arms around his waist, feeling the hard ridges of muscle in his belly as he began to trot across the stream, carrying her with him. He was a fine specimen, really, of man and equine, and while he’d made it known on several occasions he would settle by the stream with her, she doubted he could do so for long.

There was too much in him that loved liberty and the freedom of roaming. He was, by no means, the wild half-breeds his brothers had proved themselves to be-but Chiron had an undeniable love for adventure, and Eurydice couldn’t roam any further than her stream itself did. Roaming too far from home would force her to wither and die, like a grape left off the vine in the sun.

However, a secret longing burned in her belly, and it wasn’t for Chiron. It wasn’t for any man she had ever met, but she just knew she would know him when she found him. She yearned to find the man she would be willing to follow, regardless of her circumstances. He existed, somewhere, she was sure of it-the man she would sacrifice everything for.

Eurydice saw something out of the corner of her eye and squeezed her thighs around Chiron’s sides. He gave a distinctly whinny-like sound. “Hey!”

“I think I just saw Melina!” She urged him left, and he cantered that way, towards a clearing. Sure enough, her friend was standing in the field, her arms held up to the sky. “Wait, Chiron!” Eurydice grabbed his long, dark hair as if it were a mane, pulling back and he slowed, shaking his head and glancing over his shoulder at her.

“What was that for?”

“She’s taming the bees.”

“She’s what?”

Eurydice dismounted, sliding to the ground. “Stay here for a moment. You’ll see.” She approached her friend quietly, her bare feet making no sound on the soft grass. Melina covered with a carpet of bees, the softly buzzing insects crawling over her skin from head to toe. When she had first seen Melina performing this trick a few years ago, Eurydice had panicked, running forward and waving her arms wildly, trying to make the bees scatter. She winced at the memory. She had caused her new friend several unnecessary stings that day-but Melina had taken it in stride, and they had spent a nice afternoon doctoring her wounds and chatting in Melina’s little cottage.

“Melina?” Eurydice called softly, still keeping her distance. The woman’s eyes opened and she stared out at her friend from two blue eyes lost in a moving blanket of insects. Eurydice thought she caught the hint of her smile, and then Melina started to spin. It began slowly, her bare feet shuffling on the grass, her steps minute and perfected. The insects started to rise, a few at a time, then in larger numbers as she turned faster, her arms thrown out to her sides. Soon she was spinning like a top, her blonde hair revealed now and whirling around her face in a cloud as the bees took flight, going off again on their daily business.

Chiron came up behind Eurydice, pawing the ground. “That’s impressive!”

“She does it every day.” Eurydice shook her head, her smile bemused. “Melina, this is Chiron, the centaur. Chiron, this is my friend, Melina.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Chiron bent one jointed leg and bowed his head briefly. “May I ask…what is the purpose of that daily death-defying stunt?”

“I’m just keeping them happy.” Melina smiled from where she had collapsed on the ground, still gently shaking her head free from a bee or two. They buzzed gently around her face, but she showed no sign of fear. In fact, they seemed to kiss her cheek before taking flight again with their brothers and sisters. “Angry bees don’t produce good honey. Happy bees are good workers. They love being seen for the magical beings they are.”

“Is that so?”

“Chiron is taking me over to a festival Apollo is having for his son.” Eurydice held a hand out to her friend. “Do you want to come with us?” Melina took the outstretched hand, looking askance at the half-man, half-horse. “Do I have to ride?”

“You’ll let bees crawl all over you, but you’re afraid of horses?” Eurydice laughed.

“It’s not the horse ride itself…” Melina shrugged, giving Chiron an apologetic smile. “I’m more afraid of the falling off.”

“I’ll go slowly.” He winked, making his hands into a stirrup again. Eurydice helped Melina mount first then swung herself up behind her, putting her arms around the other woman’s waist.

“You said you’d go slowly!” Melina squealed and grasped Chiron tightly around the middle as he galloped over the field. She buried her face in his back, and he rumbled laughter as he leapt nimbly across a small stream.

“But then I wouldn’t have two beautiful women clinging to me, would I?” Chiron slowed, grinning back at them with a wink.

Eurydice smacked his rear. “You are bad!”

“It’s part of my nature.” He shrugged, but his smile never faded. “And we can’t help our natures can we?”

Eurydice sighed, thinking of her attachment to her stream. “I suppose so.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Melina dared to peek around Chiron’s broad back to see where they were going. “I think people can change.”

“Spoken like a true mortal!” Chiron laughed; the sound rumbling through him. Eurydice could feel it between her thighs.

“Come on, horsie.” She squeezed her legs around him, digging her knees in. “Play nice.”