Out of This World

by Maggie Morton

  Table of Contents

  Synopsis

  By the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Under Her Spell preview

  About the Author

  Books Available From Bold Strokes Books

  Synopsis

  Iris may have been dumped by Jane a year ago, but she still isn't over her. So she boards a plane to Amsterdam, hoping the physical distance will help. But once there, she finds herself in the middle of nowhere, with no wallet, no map, and no idea how she got there. Some ancient-looking ruins beckon, but once she's inside, the floor collapses, and she begins to fall—straight into another world.

  She literally lands on Anandra, a magical woman in a magical place far away from Earth and anything and everything familiar. Anandra is, admittedly, smoking hot, and Iris quickly falls into bed with her. Anandra offers to help Iris get home, and they embark on a journey rife with danger, excitement, and lots of hot sex.

  As she travels the land with her new lover—and as they close in on a new, mysterious threat to this world—Iris begins to wonder if Anandra might be just what she needs to finally move on.

  Out of This World

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  By the Author

  Dreaming of Her

  Under Her Spell

  Out of This World

  Out of This World

  © 2014 By Maggie Morton. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-62639-126-0

  This Electronic Book is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, New York 12185

  First Edition: August 2014

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editor: Shelley Thrasher

  Production Design: Stacia Seaman

  Cover Design By Sheri (GraphicArtist2020@hotmail.com)

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to begin by thanking Shelley for her excellent editing (as per usual). Everyone at Bold Strokes Books deserves many, many kudos as well for running such a great company that I’m delighted to have been published by a third time. I’d also like to praise Sheri for what I think is my best cover yet. And I would like to thank my friend Susan M., for helping me to get much better at seeing which words should go where, and which words shouldn’t go anywhere. Finally, I would like to thank Bucko, Beanie, and Bunky for being there for me more than anyone else I know.

  To Mr. M., one of the brightest stars in my night sky

  Chapter One

  “Are you positive I can’t get my luggage until a week from now?” Iris was on the verge of tears, or at least she might have been if she hadn’t taken a Xanax before she got on the plane. Here she was, her feet finally on foreign soil—her first time out of the United States. It should have been the height of excitement for her, but all she could think about was how Jane would have handled this better than her.

  Jane always handled things better than she did. Things like who had been the last one to pay for dinner, how many times they’d had sex that month, what date their tickets for the opera were for, or any number of other important things that never seemed to stick in Iris’s head. She knew she wasn’t a complete idiot, as teacher after teacher had praised her work in high school and now in college. But apparently, she wasn’t smart enough to keep Jane around. Or sexy enough. Or…“something” enough.

  Yes, obviously something was wrong with her, or Jane would have stayed with her. Jane wouldn’t have dumped her if she were a better, more appealing person. And she definitely wouldn’t have dumped her for a man. Jane, the long-term lesbian; Jane, her hopefully permanent partner; Jane, whom Iris had been planning to spend the rest of her life with. But their third anniversary had neared about a year ago, and Jane had started acting stranger and stranger, until she told Iris they were over, and she was leaving her for her lab partner, Billy. Billy. What a stupid name.

  “I’m very sorry, miss.” The woman at the baggage-claim stand looked so full of fear it almost seemed like she was expecting Iris to hit her. The poor woman probably had to deal with people who were much angrier than she was right then. Iris understood just how thankless jobs like this could be, especially after spending her own fair (unfair?) share of time in the service industry.

  “No…no, it’s fine.” Iris stifled a sigh, one she knew was well-earned, but she also knew it would make this poor woman’s night even worse. Not that Iris’s was off to a great start. First she had endured the four-hour delay in her departure from New York, and now her luggage was lost, perhaps permanently. Just like it seemed as if Jane might be permanently lost. Oh well, at least she still had plenty of baggage left over from her last few months with Jane.

  “Really, miss? Are you sure? I could give you a voucher for twenty dollars off your next flight if you’d like.”

  “Sure. I’d be happy to take it.” Iris smiled as warmly as she could manage at the woman behind the counter and was rewarded with a smile that showed how beautiful the woman helping her must have been when she wasn’t busy looking so frightened. Iris wasn’t all that scary—she’d been incredibly shy her entire life and had just begun to come out of her shell when Jane gave her reasons galore to shimmy right back into it.

  The woman reached beneath the counter and handed her two strips of paper. “Here’s an extra one, although I’m not supposed to do this,” she said in a quiet voice. “You’re the nicest person I’ve helped all day.”

  Well! The lost baggage came with a slight benefit, then. Maybe not to Iris, but to this pretty woman. “Thanks,” she said, in as soft a voice as the woman had used. Soft because that was her usual speaking voice. She was trying to draw herself back out of her shell by going on this trip, at her therapist’s suggestion. She had been terrified when Uma, her therapist, had recommended her trip, and Uma had told her that was all the more reason to go. “The things that scare us are sometimes the best medicine when we’re going through rough times.”

  So here she was, in Amsterdam, with no luggage other than her carry-on, no idea where she was staying (because all of that information had been in her luggage), and two twenty-dollar vouchers. Maybe they would be enough for a flight home, she joked to herself, coming very close to deciding to use them that very night. She was exhausted, hungry, and getting scared about how the rest of her ten-day trip would go, considering how badly it had started out.

  “Um, could you tell me where the nearest taxis are?” she asked the woman.

  “To the right and down the next two hallways. You’ll go over one of those moving walkways, and then you’ll see many doors. Go through any of them.”

  The woman spoke with an unrecognizable accent, but her English was much m
ore impressive than Iris’s ability with any language other than her own.

  “Thanks,” she said again, tucking the two vouchers into her bag. Then she turned and started walking to her right, careful to not make eye contact with any of the men nearby. She didn’t want any unwanted attention while she was here. She didn’t want any attention period, or at least any beyond the “attention” she’d decided to look for here when she’d bought her ticket. Maybe it was the Xanax speaking, or maybe it was just that it had been almost a year, but she wasn’t going to let her normally hesitant nature stop her on this trip. She hadn’t just come here for the food, and of course she hadn’t come for the drugs. Nope, she’d chosen this particular city for one thing and one thing alone: she’d come here to get laid.

  The airport employee’s directions proved to be accurate, and a taxi was waiting right outside the first set of doors Iris walked through. She climbed into the cab and got ready to tell the taxi driver where she wanted to go, but before she could, he started driving. And then the strangest thing happened—an immensely strong wave of exhaustion crashed over her, and within seconds, Iris was fast asleep.

  *

  She woke up what could have been either minutes or hours later. Or even days. But she didn’t see any clocks nearby to tell her how long it’d been, and the mattress she was lying on was lumpy and uneven. As she opened her eyes, her memories came shooting back into her head. The lost luggage. The taxi she’d gotten into. And how she’d fallen asleep as soon as the driver had taken off.

  “Fuck!” Iris leapt up. She was standing under a starry, full-mooned sky, in a giant field, and she had absolutely no idea where she was. “What to do, w-what to do…” she stammered, glancing left and right. On the ground a few feet away lay her bag, and she rushed over to it. Maybe she could call her mom, or her brother, and get their help. But after she’d scrambled to her bag and dumped its contents out onto the ground, she realized quite quickly that not only was she in the middle of nowhere with no idea where she was, but she also had no phone, no wallet, and nothing except the magazine she’d read on the flight, her diary, two pens, and the airplane vouchers. A lot of good those would do now.

  What was she supposed to do in this predicament? Then a bit of her therapist’s advice came back to her. Uma had told her to take three deep breaths and picture herself in a special place whenever she started to get tense. So Iris did this now, shutting her eyes and visualizing herself in a hammock on a beach, with two gorgeous women fanning her with palm fronds. And then she added the thought that the two women were naked because, hell, it couldn’t hurt. And why not make them lay down a blanket and undress her, and start…

  “Damn it.” Yes, it’d been far too long since she’d had sex, because here she was, lost and without any way to get un-lost, and she was fantasizing. The fantasy, though, had seemed to clear her head, because as she opened her eyes, she felt at least a little calmer.

  With the small bit of calm she’d managed to generate with her fantasy, she could take in her surroundings a bit better. About fifty feet to her left stood a large domed structure, which looked ancient. She might as well check it out. Perhaps she’d find some sort of ancient communication device in it, too. So she quickly stuffed everything back into her bag and walked the short distance to the building’s entrance.

  Once inside, she observed what little she could with the moon’s light coming through mid-sized openings in its circular, single wall. There seemed to be some kind of art on it. Squinting to make it out, she walked a little closer to one of the walls and felt the ground begin to shake slightly. So Holland had earthquakes, apparently, and she was here just in time to experience one. If she was even in Holland. Iris might have started wondering again if she’d ever see her home again; Iris might have started to worry she’d never see anyone she loved ever again; and while she was at it, Iris might have started worrying that she’d never get to have sex again. All of these worries would possibly have occurred to her if the floor hadn’t cracked and then collapsed, causing her to scream as she fell into the darkness below.

  She dropped for what seemed like ages, all the while screaming the loudest she probably ever had. And then, just as suddenly as the falling had started, it stopped, as she landed with a small thudding noise on top of something that made a sound somewhat like Oof! This something, whatever it was, looked like the sky had before she’d started falling, except she could see no moon, and the stars only covered a small bit of space beneath her.

  “You can stop screaming now,” the sky said, and then she felt the sky reaching out to her right.

  The shock of sudden brightness all around her forced her to shut her eyes, and she slowly reopened them as they adjusted to the light. She was in a room, made out of wide wooden slats, with a kitchen, a table and several chairs, and a small, blanketed bed that she happened to be on top of. The room’s light was coming from a small kerosene lamp on the table to her right. But its flame didn’t look quite normal to Iris. Not that any of this looked—or seemed—normal.

  “So, how did you get here, pretty lady?” It was the same voice that had spoken before, and so the last thing Iris noticed about the room she was in was that it held a beautiful, pitch-black-skinned woman, with tiny, twinkling lights spread across her skin. Apparently, the night sky she’d fallen on was a woman, with some amazingly rendered tattoos. And this tattooed woman, with kissable, shimmery white lips and short, messy white hair, happened to think she was pretty.

  “Me?” Iris squeaked.

  “Who else do you see in this room, other than you and me?”

  Iris couldn’t help it—she started to giggle, giggles that turned into loud laughs, laughs that would have gone on for a long time if the woman hadn’t interrupted them with the words, “Well, wherever you’ve come from, and whatever you’re laughing about, I don’t care to find out right away. Instead, will you let me kiss you?”

  Right then Iris realized the woman was naked, each of her erect nipples matching the color of her lips and peeking out from underneath the bed’s blanket.

  Iris wouldn’t have normally responded the way she did to this woman’s words, but now, after she’d lost her luggage, her way, and, seemingly, her mind, she couldn’t deny it. She was horny as hell, she had a sexy, naked goddess beneath her, and the mere suggestion of a kiss had her cunt throbbing in a way it never had before.

  “Yes, go ahead,” she murmured, and the star-covered, naked woman placed her hand on Iris’s cheek and kissed her.

  Iris melted as soon as the woman’s lips touched hers, the heat that had begun in her thighs and crotch now spreading throughout her entire body. It seemed as if the heat was going to travel to every place the woman touched her. One of her ebony, star-flecked hands caressed Iris’s shoulder first, then drifted over to her collarbone, where the woman traced it with the backs of her fingers, sending a slight shiver down Iris’s back.

  “I feel underdressed,” the woman whispered across Iris’s lips. “Why don’t you help me to feel more comfortable by taking off some of your copious amount of skin-covering material?”

  “My…my clothes, you mean?” Iris glanced down at what she was wearing—a loose, thigh-length T-shirt and gray slacks. Her shoes were even still on. “I’m sorry,” she told the woman as soon as she realized this. “I definitely shouldn’t have my shoes on your bed. Just give me a moment.”

  “I’ll give you a moment, but not much longer. I’m dying to see if your body is as delectable as your face and hair.”

  Delectable? Me?

  Iris noticed a mirror to the left of the bed now and took a moment to see if she looked any better than usual. Her chin-length, straight brown hair was messier than she liked it to be, probably from sleeping in that field, and her makeup was completely gone, although her parted lips looked pinker than usual, and her cheeks were flushed in a nice way, too, probably from her current arousal.

  “Stop admiring your attractive face and show me your body, whatever your name is.�
��

  “Iris. It’s Iris,” she answered, turning away from the mirror and back toward the woman.

  As she pulled her T-shirt over her head, she heard the woman say, “My name is Anandra. I can truthfully say it is far more than a pleasure to meet you, or it will be once you press your naked skin against mine. It’s been much too long since I’ve given myself over to another woman’s body. Almost three weeks, if my count is right.”

  “Three weeks?” Iris whispered. “How about a year?”

  “What was that?” Anandra asked, now back in view, as Iris’s T-shirt hit the floor. She made quick work of taking off her bra, and then she slipped out of her shoes and stripped off her pants and panties. Now she was just as naked as the woman before her, if not more, because she might possibly be wearing some underwear on her lower half, all of it still hidden beneath the bed’s covers. Luckily for Iris, she was just about to find out.

  This woman, this Anandra, made her mouth water like it hadn’t in a year. Or maybe longer, because her hunger for Anandra was too strong to fight. Not that she wanted to, not in the least. This may have been a very strange situation, but she’d never seen a woman as tasty-looking as this one, and if she was lucky enough to be wanted by her, there wasn’t a chance in hell Iris would refuse her advances.

  “Come here and get under the covers. I want you to warm me up and make me wet.”

  Iris began to walk back over to the bed; as she did, the woman continued to talk in a low, calm voice, sounding sure of her control over Iris, a certainty that was well-earned. “I want you to make me quiver with need. I want you to draw sounds out of me the likes of which I’ve never made before. I want you to make me shake like the earth, cry out like the wind, and crash into orgasm like giant waves across the shore. Are you ready to please me in all these ways?”