Spice Box: Sixteen Steamy Stories

by Raine Miller

  TO: emorrison@bsiltd.co.uk

  May I drive you home tonight, Cherry?

  Her reply came back to me instantly.

  TO: nmcmanus@bsiltd.co.uk

  Yes you may. (I love it when you drive me) *blushing*

  I checked the time and blew out a sigh. Five more hours. Five more hours before I could make good on my promise, and have my blushing girl right where I wanted her.

  “When may I look?” I asked impatiently. “I want to see everything.”

  “In another moment. Almost there.” Neil had a hold of my hand, leading me through his flat.

  I kept my eyes closed, well…only because he told me to do it. One of the unspoken, but clearly understood quirks about us—an element of that made us work so well—was the way in which he was never indecisive with me. He always knew what he wanted, how to ask for it, demand it, get it, or if he must, how to take it. This combination of his large, commanding presence made the whole package of Neil a devastating elixir.

  He liked to surprise me with little things and to spoil me. He’d helped me pack enough clothes to last through the next few days of work, without the panic of one of those weird nightmares where everyone has clothes on but you. Hate those.

  After leaving my house and kissing Mum on the cheek, and thanking her for allowing him to take me away, he’d wined and dined me at Gladstone’s, being the romantic, thoughtful man he’d always been, and still was. The wine, and the mouthwatering vision of him across the table, had left me a little intoxicated, and I knew I couldn’t be in safer hands than his. But, at that moment, he had my scarf over my tightly closed eyes and was leading me along blind, to something inside his flat he wished to show me.

  “Now?” I asked again.

  He stopped us and moved behind me, placing me where he wanted me with his hands on my upper arms. Next, I felt the silk of my scarf being untied from the back of my head with his large fingers tugging gently on the fabric. I loved Neil’s fingers. They worked a kind of magic on me. He touched me with them and I became a hot mess, desperate for him to do other things to me with more parts of his body.

  My eyes were still closed.

  “You can open them now, Cherry.”

  It took me a moment to utter any words.

  “I—I can’t believe how beautiful it is.” The dark night was illuminated by the millions of fairy lights of London.

  He stayed quiet.

  “This is what you wanted to show me first?” I reached out a hand and touched the glass. “The view out the window.” It was indeed, stunning. A whole wall of glass extending out over the city, both the old and the new, lit up and shining against the stark midnight-blue sky.

  “Yes.” I felt him step back and break contact with me.

  I turned my head and saw he’d moved to a padded bolster cushion and sat down on it.

  “Do you remember what I asked you to do for me the first time we made love at Hallborough?” he asked softly.

  “You wanted me naked against the view in the window.”

  “Yes, that’s right, Cherry. You do remember…”

  “I do, Neil.” I stretched my arms up behind my neck and dragged my palms up through my hair at the back of my scalp. “And now?”

  I saw him swallow deeply and his eyes widen. I liked to hear his commands, so I waited for him to tell me. I loved the look on his face right then, too. Like a fierce golden beast waiting until the perfect moment to pounce upon his prey. I was the prey. Lucky, lucky, me.

  “Strip for me in front of this window, Cherry. All the way down to your skin…so my London view is finally the way I’ve always needed it to look for me, in this house. This window—this view—you in front of it. Do that for me now.”

  I steadied my racing heart and slowly stripped for my man.

  He watched me do it in silence, in stillness.

  I imagined this was something more for him than just a prelude to what was certain to be an orgasmic explosion at its conclusion. This was our second beginning.

  Only his eyes followed my movements. They tracked my arms as I removed my dress and dropped it to the floor. They lingered on my legs as I unzipped my boots, then peeled off my tights. They glittered when my bra came off, and flashed when my knickers were released from my hand, to land silently somewhere on the heap of garments littering the furry rug beneath my feet.

  He leaned back in his position on the bolster and looked at me some more, his elbows propping up his big body, legs stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed. He seemed in no hurry to rush me, but content to savor something he’d wanted for a long time.

  I gave him as much time as he wanted, content to wait for the next request.

  “Turn around, and look out at the view,” he said on a breath.

  I did it, totally confident in the knowledge that nobody but Neil would see me. The photographer in him had organized this, so there would be no backlighting. I knew my man well.

  I heard the sounds of zippers and belts and clothes coming off. The thud of shoes and trousers being discarded, the clink of metal, as things were abandoned to wherever they happened to fall.

  “Move your legs apart and put your palms forward on the frame of the glass.”

  A shiver rolled down my spine as I complied with his request. I waited for something to happen, becoming more aroused and needy by the second, when suddenly, I sensed him very close, although I’d not heard him moving toward me.

  I could smell the spiced, clean scent of him, and I heard a long, controlled breath being released along my back.

  Then…his tongue took a long, wide lick forward up the seam of my pussy.

  I shouted through the contact, unable to muffle the cries of extreme pleasure as he devoured my sex with his mouth. I arched back to give him better access and gripped the window frame to keep myself upright.

  He was relentless with his mouth. And his fingers—gripped my hips firmly, kneaded the flesh, and held me apart so he could continue to fuck me with his tongue, until he knew I was climaxing. Oh yes, he would know when it happened. His lips would feel me, and his tongue would taste me. Any second it would happen…

  So when he pulled away, I nearly fell down to the floor and wept.

  I must have made sounds of protest, because he growled at my ear, “I know, beautiful girl…I know.”

  Then his cock took the place where his tongue had just been.

  We both shouted together as his enormous length burrowed all the way in, bumping the wall of my cervix with a sharp luxurious sting.

  “I love you so much…” he moaned at my shoulder, as he reared back. And then he powered forward violently.

  The pace was wicked, the thrusting fierce, the pleasure intense, as he found his rhythm with me. I floated away to a place where thinking was not possible, nor important. We both knew where we were and what we were doing.

  It was finally right.

  So very right…when Neil fucked me against the panoramic window of his flat, that looked out upon the city of London, in all her nighttime glory… So very right…when Neil claimed me for the second time in our lives.

  ***

  He brushed his hand up and down my hip absently as if he didn’t want me to forget he was there.

  As if I could ever forget when he was touching me.

  We were now spooning on our sides in front of the window, snuggled into the thick fur rug on the floor. The rug was so decadently soft, and although I appreciated its cushioning from the hard floor, I didn’t need its warmth. I had my man right up against me to keep me warm. My body was burning with heat anyway, from what we’d just done together, and continued simmering for a good long while. I didn’t feel like I could ever be cold again.

  “Thank you,” he whispered at the edge of my shoulder, pressing his lips there before moving them on to the next spot, little soft kisses on my skin in a trail up my shoulder to my neck.

  “My pleasure,” I purred.

  “Yours and mine,” he said.

>   “I’ve still not gotten a tour of your flat yet, you know.”

  “You’ve seen the only part that’s ever really mattered to me, though.”

  “The window was that special to you, Neil?”

  “Yes.”

  He was quiet for a moment and then he said, “You don’t really need a tour anyway.”

  “Why don’t I?”

  “Because this is your home now. You live here.”

  I stiffened in shock. “I don’t remember being asked such a thing.”

  He rolled me onto my back and leaned over me, his hand coming up to hold one side of my face. “Cherry, will you live here with me? Make this your home? With me?”

  His chocolate eyes glittered down at me, his thumb brushing back and forth over my cheekbone. The love in his eyes answered every question I needed answering. I knew he loved me, as I loved him. I didn’t really need him to ask me, because I knew I was home. Home was Neil. I wasn’t the young girl he’d loved before, though. Long years had changed us both, but my answer was really, very easy, and simple.

  “I love you…so yes,” I answered him with a kiss to those precious lips of his that knew how to love me so well.

  Neil got up first, then, bent down to pick me up from the rug, kissing me sweetly, as soon as he was on his feet. He smiled at me, and then he started walking, carrying me off somewhere, down the hallway of my new home.

  I didn’t care where, and could only imagine his intent was to show me the bedroom where I would be sleeping from that point on.

  CHAPTER 24

  “Just like my brother to be out of the country when there’s work to be done.”

  Elaina was checking her text messages as I drove us to her mum’s.

  “This is what he sent me: ‘Sorry sis, off to Paris. Big clients with deep wallets have me shouting Vive la France! Scotty can do without my help just fine. He’s bigger and stronger than me. –Ian.’” She scoffed at her mobile in disgust. “What an arse.”

  “True. But think about if he did help move you into my flat how we wouldn’t be able to get rid of him after. He’d stay for hours and hours, drinking all my Guinness and expecting us to feed him.”

  “That’s a very good point, Captain.” She turned in the seat to face me as I drove, a frown marring the smoothness of her brow.

  “What are you thinking about, Cherry Girl? I see those cogs in your pretty head churning something fierce.”

  “Well you should be keeping your eyes on the road and not the cogs in my head,” she retorted, in that sassy way that made me want to do really filthy things, involving her pouty lips and my cock.

  “You can tell me whatever it is, you know.” I reached a hand over and found one of hers. “It’s in my new job description. All part of being your man.”

  She pulled my hand up to her soft sweet lips and kissed my palm. “It’s Mum. She’s been drinking more in the last few days and I’m worried about why.”

  “Yeah, I noticed. And you think it’s because you’re moving out of her house?”

  She shook her head. “Don’t think so. I was away for years and she lived alone. I’ve only been back for a short while so she couldn’t have gotten that dependent upon me in just a few weeks. Besides, her whole point of leading me back to London was to get us back together. She wants this for us. Why would it send her down now that her wish has happened?”

  “I don’t know. And you’re right, it doesn’t really make sense.” Caroline Morrison’s strength and devotion to me had sustained me for many years. Her love and support had never been questioned. In my head, she took over the role of mother that my gran had previously held. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her if she needed me. “Let’s try to get her to come to the flat with us today. She can see where we’re living with her own eyes and know she’s wanted, and welcome to visit any time she likes. I’ll take you both to dinner after we get your things sorted, and maybe we can do some detective tag teaming, and pull it out of her.”

  She sighed into the seat and gave me a half smile. “You are aware that when we chose to adopt you, we made out the better in the deal, aren’t you?”

  I shook my head. “No, darlin’. I am the luckiest man in the world. I believe that, and I never forget when I gained Ian as a friend, I gained not only a brother, but a whole family.”

  The minute we entered the house I knew something was off. It was far too quiet. Neil noticed, too. I could see it in how his body tensed, and in the way he moved quickly but methodically, going through the house for clues.

  “Mum?” I called loudly.

  Silence.

  “She was expecting us. She knew we were coming at noon to pack up everything,” I reasoned, now starting to really worry.

  “Her car is here. Maybe she popped in to see a neighbour or something—” He paused, tilting his head up to the ceiling as if he’d heard a noise. He pointed up. “Your attic has the pull-down staircase doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, but why would she go up to the attic—”

  A loud thump sounded right above us.

  Neil was already up on the second floor and opening the latch that released the attic staircase to come down before I even made it half-way. The steps hadn’t had time to unfold completely and he was already climbing them.

  “Is she up there?” I asked impatiently.

  I heard him say, “Oh, Mum, that’s no good.”

  “I am fine, dear,” Her voice sounded like my mother, but when I made it up the stairs and saw her for myself, she didn’t look at all like my mother. She was very disordered, still wearing her robe, hair not brushed, definitely intoxicated and it was barely noon.

  “Mum…what’s happened?” I sat down beside her on the old chaise lounge and put my arm around her. “Did you sleep the whole night up here? It’s freezing.” I rubbed up and down her arm to get some circulation and warmth into her.

  She held out a hand toward the room and then let it fall. “Oh, Elaina…” She turned her head away from me in shame and sobbed quietly. Boxes of my father’s clothes, and mementos, were opened and strewn all about us, along with an empty bottle of Bombay Sapphire and Schweppes. The most significant item though, appeared to be what looked like a letter pressed to her breast.

  I tried to make eye contact but she wouldn’t look at me. She just continued to cry with her head turned away, with that paper clutched to her heart.

  Neil crouched down to meet her at eye-level. “What’s this, Mum?” He took hold of the corner of the paper. “May I read? Did something in this letter upset you?”

  She allowed him to pull it from her hand.

  “What does it say?” I demanded, knowing full well he hadn’t had enough time to figure out what it was about.

  Sometimes you just know when things are bad. The sense of dread cloaking me affirmed without a shadow of a doubt, that whatever the letter contained—it was something very ominous.

  Neil’s face went pale, and my heart skipped a beat as I continued to rub up and down Mum’s arm.

  “It’s from the US Department of Defense in Washington D.C..” He looked at me with compassion in his beautiful dark eyes that loved me so well, and tried to soften the blow.

  My hand flew up to my mouth in a gesture to brace myself. “Dad?”

  “Yes. It says they’ve identified the remains of George Morrison through advanced DNA analysis. It is a request for the wishes of the family to be made known to them so…the final resting place for his bodily remains can be, um…resolved.” Neil hated to say those words to us. I could tell it hurt him to speak them.

  “Oh…Mum…” Nothing else would form on my lips. I was so stunned, trying to process what the letter was asking of us, and worried about the present state of my mother, I couldn’t really come up with anything better. What was there to say? Dad was gone, as he’d been since 11, September, 2001. This certainly brought up so much of the feelings I’d put away deep, deep inside of me. They shot straight to the top of the emotional queue, all in a
split second. I couldn’t even imagine how Mum had been dealing with it…and that she’d kept it to herself and not told her children. Well, I could see how she dealt with it. By way of a bottle of Bombay.

  And that scared the absolute shit out of me.

  “Mum…when did you get the letter?” Neil asked gently.

  She choked out another anguished sob and said, “It came a week ago Friday.”

  I was afraid to ask the next question, but knew I had to. I looked at Neil and gathered my courage, because I had a feeling about what she would say. “What do you want us to do, Mum?”

  She snapped her head around to look at me, took my cheek in her hand and held it there. Tears streaming down her lined, but still beautiful face, she told me what she wanted.

  “My darling, please—please go there and bring him back—bring Daddy back to his home—to the family that loves him. I cannot b-bear the thought of him being…th-there all alone…and so far away from us.”

  “Okay, Mum. I will go.”

  I answered my mother quickly because I already knew what she was going to ask me. Also, because there was no other answer I could’ve given to her. I would go to Washington D.C. to get my father and bring him home. No matter how hard this was going to hurt, I’d do what had to be done.

  “And I’ll be right there with her,” Neil said, embracing both of us into his strong arms, that thankfully could bear the weight of two broken hearts.

  The mortuary at Dover Air Force Base housed the remains for victims of the Pentagon crash on 9/11. I wondered how they’d handled the hundreds of families that had come through there, grieving for lost loved ones over the past decade. I mostly worried about how they were going to handle things with Elaina. I pulled her hand, clasped in mine, up to my lips as we walked down the hallway together.