An Excerpt from "Long Distance"
By Gwen Masters
"When will you be home?" I whispered.
"Tomorrow. I'll be there tomorrow."
"For how long?" I asked.
"Four days, this time."
Four days. Hell, I would take four hours. A smile crept onto my face, and I knew it would stay for a long while. Four days in the middle of a tour was a very long time, a special gift to lovers. We wouldn’t leave the house. We would order in. We would sleep in. We might not even get out of bed, until we decided to get into the bathtub and—
"Is the water warm?" he suddenly asked, his voice over the phone line pulling me out of my dreams of the wonders that could be worked in four days.
”Yes,” I whispered.
"Is it as warm as my hard body inside you?"
I sucked in a breath. Those simple words made my skin flush and my body tingle. We were both naked, both surrounded by the warmth of water and the even warmer thrill of emotion. Oh, the possibilities...
"No. No, it isn't as warm as you,” I said quietly.
"Good. Do you have that big, fluffy sponge? That yellow one?” He knew I did, and didn’t wait for an answer. “Press it to your throat, baby. Squeeze it and let the water run down. Do it like you would if I were watching you."
I did as he told me to do. The water slid down my chest in a sheet, then in trickles as the sponge emptied. I arched my back and the water swirled around my body.
"I'll bet your hair is pulled up, but some of those curls are free, aren't they? And they are wet, and curling around your neck and your face, just the way I like to see it?"
I grinned. “Yes.”
"And your lips…your lips are covered in that strawberry lip balm that you love so much, and they are glistening in that candlelight, just wanting to be kissed and licked until that strawberry is gone. You always burn candles in the bath. You are, aren't you?"
”Good guess about the candles, but you’re wrong about the lip balm,” I teased. I slid the sponge down and gasped when it bumped over the hard little pebble my nipple had become. I slid it over to the other one and dropped water on it in a stream, hardening it to the point of pain. ”I want you, Garret."
He sighed, a deep sigh of satisfaction from a man who knows exactly how much he is wanted by the woman waiting at home. "Do you know what I'm doing over here, honey, here in this lonely hotel room?" he taunted.
I didn't answer. I knew I didn't have to.
"I'm letting my fingers run over my cock. I put bath oil in the water, and it's slick. I'm not hard yet but I'm getting there. I can feel my cock growing in my hand. You like that don't you, when I get bigger in your hand? Or when I grow in your mouth?"
I bit my lip and moaned in response. My mouth watered with the memory of the taste of his skin. He was warm cotton and sweet sandalwood. I remembered the feeling of his hands in my hair and the whimper from him, how quickly he became hard when my mouth closed around him.
"Touch yourself.” Garret’s voice swam through my memories. “Slip your hand down your belly. Trail that water all over it. Are you using that scented bubble bath I bought for you? The stuff with the big bubbles?"
"Mmmm." I cupped water over the gentle curve of my belly. My fingers slid across silky skin. I heard him moan deep in his throat. "Run your fingers over your chest," I instructed. "And down…down, into the water. Are you hard yet, Garret?"
His breathing suddenly changed and I knew he was stroking himself. "I am very hard."
"Does that feel good, your fingers sliding over your thick, hard cock?" I asked. “When you come home, I’m going to watch you do that. I’m going to sit at the end of the bed while you watch me and stroke yourself.”
Garret sighed deeply. “I know you like that,” he murmured, and the intimacy of that memory made me smile. I spread my legs in the water. I slid my hands up and down my thighs, holding the phone cradled against my shoulder. My eyes drifted closed. Garret's breathing came harder, and I moaned aloud when my fingers found the lips of my pussy, already so much slicker than the water on my skin.
"Garret…I want you, Garret."
"You'll have me soon. Right now, do this with me." I heard the water moving and I knew he was arching into his hand.
What happens next? Click here for the January Issue of Xodtica Romance!
An Excerpt from "A New Year"
By Gwen Masters
“You want me,” she whispered in awe.
I fought to keep a clear head. “Of course I want you.”
“I didn’t think anyone would want me again,” she said wistfully. My heart suddenly hurt. Tears stung my eyes, tears I was completely unaccustomed to. I hadn’t cried since I was a teenager. How in the world could she do such things to me?
That thought alone would have made me hesitate. I didn’t want to feel so much.
But she didn’t think anyone would want her…
God help me, I thought. Please. I cannot mess this up.
“I do want you,” I said. “I want you more than I have ever wanted anyone.” It was true.
“I’m afraid,” she whispered. I could hear the tears in her voice. I slid my hand down her belly. She caught a breath as I lifted the end of her shirt. I slipped my hand beneath it to find sleep-warmed skin, then slid it up to find her bare breast, topped with a nipple so hard it felt painful. I squeezed gently and her breath instantly became ragged.
“How long has it been?” I asked.
My other hand slid down to her belly. I cradled her close. When she arched into my hand, I began to play with her, gently testing what she liked. She liked a firm touch. And just a little bit of teasing before I squeezed her nipple just a little harder. She wiggled her hips against me and I pressed back, not hiding anything. She knew exactly how badly my body wanted hers.
“Touch me,” I whispered. “Don’t be afraid…”
She hesitated for a long moment. Then she reached back and found the button of my jeans. “Take them off,” she suddenly demanded. The button came free. The zipper slid down. Together, we pushed the jeans off my hips and I kicked them out from under the quilts. They landed on the floor, and the zipper made a little ticking sound in the silence.
That little sound sent a shiver all the way through her body. She turned to face me. For the first time, her blue eyes met mine. “I want you,” she said simply and then she blushed, and my heart soared.
“Good,” I managed to say.
I touched her face. She pulled on the hem of my t-shirt and I sat up. I let her skim the fabric up my body, lifting my arms to let her take it off. The only thing left were boxers that hid absolutely nothing. Before the cotton hit the floor she had her hands on my chest, tracing the planes and angles with her soft fingertips.
“You are beautiful,” she breathed, and then it was my turn to blush. I touched her hair. It was tangled from sleep and felt like silk strands between my calloused fingers. She turned her face into my palm. Her lips were soft and warm against the inside of my wrist. Her hands were not tentative…in fact, I felt as though I were with a woman much more experienced than I in the art of lovemaking. A surprise, that…give the innocence of her, I never would have expected that look in her eyes when they met mine.
That sudden look of raw passion and untempered need.
Find "A New Year" in the November Issue of Xodtica Romance!