Like Slipping Under Cover: Erotic Spy Fiction

by Bethany Zaiatz, ed.

  Seph smiled, looking at her, really looking at her for the first time tonight. She meditated a moment in admiring Rhodo's eyes. Indigo. Seph wouldn't believe it if she hadn't seen them herself, if she hadn't had the pleasure of seeing them for herself so many times and in so many lights, but Rhodo had indigo eyes. Dark, deep blue blended with a subtle but still potent hue of purple. Seph kissed her left eyelid, then her right, and then her mouth, Rhodo's hands reaching up to hold her face and keep her close.

  As angry as Seph was about the water shutting off, she was glad it had forced this reminder. She needed this too, affection she could reciprocate to Rhodo, not just take from her. Kisses would be the start, and she shared as many as she could before she started to shiver from still being wet and mostly naked. Smirking, she pulled her lips back from Rhodo's, pulled the towel tighter against them and lowered her chin to smolder a lustful look into those incredible indigo eyes. Rhodo raised her chin, eager to be challenged, all too happy to let Seph take control. Staring each other down, they walked their way slowly and carefully back to Rhodo's bed.

  The backs of Rhodo's knees finally hit her mattress and she let herself fall, pulling Seph by the shoulders on top of her. They each grunted a little at the gentle impact of their bodies against each other, sighed and groaned a bit at the brush of breasts, bellies, and hips as they shifted to move a little further onto Rhodo's bed and lie comfortably. Rhodo parted her legs and raised her knees. Seph pressed against her, running a hand from her ass down her thigh to grab her leg and hitch it around Seph's hip to fit them together a little tighter. Rhodo tilted her head back in a chuckle and rolled her hips playfully, rubbing herself against Seph. The way Rhodo's stomach moved when she did so, a curve up and then a settling down in one fluid motion, made Seph throb and buck into her once already. But first things first. Reciprocation.

  Seph leaned down and kissed her way up the valley between Rhodo's breasts, smiling when Rhodo giggled and threaded her fingers through Seph's hair. Seph gave Rhodo's ass a gentle squeeze, and then her lips traveled up Rhodo's breastbone, snuck over to the soft spot just above her clavicle, stroked and sucked against her neck, stealing higher and higher until Seph was kissing her jaw, kissing her cheek, kissing her lips once again.

  Rhodo kept her there for several kisses, cradling her face at the back of her jaw, rubbing her thumbs against her cheeks. Rhodo opened Seph's mouth with her own, slid her tongue to tap under Seph's top teeth before meeting the tip of Seph's tongue and Seph laughed. Every time. Rhodo giggled, at her own cleverness and the rumble of Seph's laugh against her chest, the shake of Seph's chest against her chest. Tongues had their moments to play and then Seph couldn't take lying still any longer. Sliding to straddle Rhodo's leg, Seph rocked her hips slow and firm against Rhodo's, grinning as she felt her grow wetter against her, as she felt herself grow wetter. She kissed Rhodo's mouth, then returned her lips to her neck, settling into a rhythm and the sound of Rhodo's moan. They relaxed into their shared muscle memory, waists writhing together, rolling through each motion like a wave, Rhodo's hands rubbing Seph's back and then her nails digging into her shoulders, dragging them down and up, down and up.

  "Oh, what the--" Rhodo whined when Seph shifted again, separating them back into two bodies and abandoning the curve of her collarbone. But Rhodo wasn't displeased for long, as Seph returned to her chest, this time kissing her nipples in long puckers that became sucks. "Nnng, Seph," Rhodo moaned louder and thrust up against her. Seph's teeth and tongue made their way around all sides of each of Rhodo's breasts and then she was moving on again, kissing ribs, the sweet soft spot just beneath them and then down Rhodo's stomach, down her groin and into the folds of her. Rhodo gasped as Seph's tongue licked a different set of lips, and her hand was back in Seph's hair, getting a gentle grip and coaxing for more. Seph kissed and nibbled down Rhodo's inner thighs, first one, then the other, which earned her an admonition for starting in the right place but "going the wrong way!" After kissing a knee and flashing a grin that she knew would get her a growl of annoyance, Seph pulled Rhodo's thighs onto her shoulders, burying her face between Rhodo's legs. The growl that resulted this time was pure, wonderful placation.

  Seph's tongue was nimble as it traced and teased the outline of her, the innermost edge of her, and it was strong as it pushed into her, massaged her, and pulsed against her clit. Seph's lips were soft in their motions, giving small, tight-lipped kisses, spreading and pressing in broad sucks, and brushing against and blowing on tender areas. And Seph's hand could never find a place to linger--just kept sliding between Rhodo's hipbones, around her hip, cupping the side of her ass and giving a squeeze, slipping down the outside of her thigh, tracing back up her thigh, up through the crease of it where her leg met her body and then it was back to hipbones--sweet, tense hipbones.

  Rhodo shivered and bucked through moans and pants and sighs and Seph loved the quake and the jolt that made her reposition almost constantly. She loved watching the fall and rise of Rhodo's stomach, chest, as she breathed, or rather, fought for breath. Her skin flushed, cheeks and breasts blushing dark pink and her curls bounced against her shoulders. She covered her eyes, she clenched her quilt in her fists over her head, she snickered, she goaded, she begged, she fell reverently silent. Seph could do this to her all night, but the way Rhodo's legs trembled at her ears and the backs of her thighs squeezed her shoulders Seph knew she didn't have much longer. She pressed one last suck of a kiss to Rhodo's clit and eased a finger inside her, slow, deep, then slid it back just as slow. She held her mouth against Rhodo and slid two fingers into her this time, then back out, then in again, and thrust, thrust, thrusted them, until Rhodo arched.

  "Oh God, Seph!" she squeaked, restraining what she wanted to be a yell but knew could only safely escape as a breathy whisper, her heels digging into Seph's back.

  Seph gripped Rhodo's thigh with one hand, the other now stroking between her own legs, riding Rhodo's come down until it became her own. Watching Rhodo flatten her back against the bed again, breasts bobbing, her stomach sloping then tightening again, Seph wasn't far behind. She let out a quiet grunt, almost an afterthought. Rhodo had been the focus. Seph had remembered herself at the last minute. Rhodo had noticed this.

  "Come up here," she commanded.

  Seph crawled further up the bed and lay beside Rhodo, propping her cheek up on her arm

  "Kiss me," Rhodo requested.

  Seph smiled, did so.

  "Now, let's try this again. Hi, sweetie."

  "Hi, sweetie," Seph greeted her properly, finally.

  "So, straight to the hot shower and then you get your own self off? Rough day?"

  "To be fair, you got me most of the way until the shower clit-blocked me. I just, finished my--" Seph didn't get to finish her sentence though. Rhodo's look wouldn't let her. Seph sighed.

  "So again I ask, rough day?"

  Seph rolled onto her back, stretched her arms up and bent them to rest her hands behind her head. She closed her eyes, feeling the stretch in her chest. She liked lying like this. It reminded her of cloud watching and stargazing. It was her default peace position.

  "I don't want to talk about it," she admitted finally.

  Rhodo snorted, resting her head on Seph's shoulder and cuddling up against her.

  "I'm the only person you talk to at all."

  "Mm."

  Rhodo stroked the curve of Seph's side. She leaned up and nibbled Seph's earlobe.

  "And I have ways of making you talk."

  Seph snorted.

  "That won't be necessary."

  "Oh." Rhodo sat up, throwing her leg over Seph's hips and straddling her. "I think I will decide what is and isn't necessary."

  Seph accepted a kiss, shrugging her shoulders in Rhodo's curls and then a happy thought came to her. A memory from before the databases and the drops and the din inside her head about how and how long she should live in the moral gray area: Rhodo's curls. Reddish-brown, long, down to her chest, and tight. Seph had wan
ted to wrap her finger in one. She did so now and grinned. Since she'd met her, Rhodo was the only thing Seph was sure about.

  "Remember when we first met, and you told me that if we liked each other, we could keep each other?"

  Rhodo smiled.

  "Of course I do."

  "Well, I know you didn't mean 'us' we, when you said it--"

  "I left a lot of room for it to eventually be interpreted that way actually." Rhodo laughed.

  Seph raised an eyebrow.

  "I'm incredibly forward, do you remember that from when we first met? And, the second time we met, even?"

  "I do." Seph smiled. "Well, I like you Rhodo. I want to keep you. Can we talk about that for a while?"

  Since Joseph was killed, Seph'd grown accustomed to a yanking under her breastbone of screams she couldn't give voice to, because they'd be too loud or too long or too late. She'd noticed it had grown duller over the years, but it would always be there, she was sure. And in the several months since Grasmus was killed, her skin had been more prone to chills than she could remember, not just when fog sailed through a camp at night or when rain pelted her through the leaves of trees she huddled under, but in the middle of the morning, when the sun was shining in a clearing. Or when a match was struck. She figured it was his ghost finally finding her or letting her know that it was still looking and she was fine with that. After she'd gotten him killed in a field and left him there it was more than fair if he wanted to haunt her.

  These, and more, were conditions she could bear, and after spending so much time carrying them with her she considered them integral parts of her. But she wanted to be more than the sum of the deaths of the people she cared about. She wanted to be alive. And Rhodo had always made her feel that way. Whether it was buying her Queen Charlies or being the first, and still only, person she consented to speaking to since her brother's death, or just sitting astride her, curls dangling against her chest, smiling down at her. Seph had been realizing over the past couple years that she needed all that more than she needed to be justified, or satisfied, not that those weren't still important to her too. But being happy was what was going to take precedence now. And talking about a more solid future with Rhodo made her very happy.

  Military generals and secret agencies weren't the only ones who could make daring plans.

  Contributors

  A.C. Wise was born and raised in Montreal and currently lives in the Philadelphia area. Her fiction has appeared in publications such as Clarkesworld, ChiZine, and The Best Horror of the Year Vol. 4. In addition to her writing, she co-edits the online 'zine The Journal of Unlikely Entomology. For more information, visit the author's website at www.acwise.net.

  Chris Amies' publication credits include one novel, Dead Ground, one illustrated non-fiction book about London pubs, and around twenty stories in magazines and anthologies such as the recent Music for Another World. His stories are sometimes straight Science Fiction but mostly tend more towards Urban/Dark Fantasy. Most recently he has been producing flash fiction and one of his online stories, "Beyond Your Command", was translated into the constructed language Toki Pona. He has several novel projects under development.

  T.C. Mill studies philosophy, watches too much BBC TV, and writes her next story on the world's smallest netbook at home in a pleasant town in Wisconsin. Dreamspinner Press has published her fantasy novelette After the War and A Spell of Passion or Fear, a novella set in a steampunk version of Plato's Republic. Her author's website is tc-mill.com.

  A. J. Viggen may claim to be a secret agent, a fighter pilot and/or an anthropomorphic dog, but is actually a writer.

  Shawn Erin loves to think big, write small. A life-long science fiction/fantasy reader and writer, he's had stories or poetry published in The Quantum Muse, Aoife's Kiss, Drabbler, and Scifiakuest. This is his third story published by Circlet Press. In addition, he's a Taos Toolbox graduate. Currently trying to "make it big," he's also practical and realizes he may need to find a mundane job. However, he's always a writer first. For compliments or complaints, he can be reached at shawnerin1@gmail.com.

  Eric Del Carlo's erotic science fiction and fantasy have appeared in numerous Circlet Press anthologies, as well as with Loose Id, Ravenous Romance and Cleis Press. He has also written a great deal of mainstream s-f and fantasy, with appearances in Asimov's, Redstone Science Fiction, Strange Horizons and other pro magazines. His novels include NO Quarter, a New Orleans-based mystery written with the late Robert Asprin, and Nightbodies, an apocalyptic erotic novel published through Ravenous Romance. Check out ericdelcarlo.com for more info and contact with the author.

  Kaysee Renee Robichaud lives and writes in south Texas. Her work has appeared in numerous anthologies from Circlet Press, Ravenous Romance and Alyson Books. Current works can be found in Like a Cunning Plan (from Circlet) and Seductress (from Cleis Books). Also, her supernatural thriller "Cave and the Vamp" is available as an eBook publication from Vampires 2 Publishing, appearing under the nom de plume C. C. Blake. Keep up with Kaysee at her livejournal: http://kayseerenee.livejournal.com/.

  Reina Delacroix is the pen name of a shy, quiet person of information and experience surviving life in the 21st century United States of America through words, music, and a menagerie. Stories from her have appeared in previous Circlet Press anthologies such as Erotic Fantastic, Fetish Fantastic, Sextopia, and the recent Circlet ebook Like an Iron Fist. She keeps searching to find other lost tales in her wilds, and is hoping to hear from others on the journey at http://reina_writes.livejournal.com/.

  Julian Oliver-Fenn is a writer of fiction. Some of it is erotic, some is fantastical, some is both, and some is neither. You can find more of his writing that falls into the 'both' category at http://artisanalerotica.com

  Max Erica Scott recently completed her own real-life Oregon Trail, managing to drive from southern Massachusetts to Portland, Oregon without dying of dysentery. When she's not (still) giggling over how cool Mt. Hood is every time she sees it, or remembering how to properly pronounce "The Willamette River", Scott is otherwise settling into her new Northwest home, and writing stories about war, love, and combinations of the two. This is her debut Circlet story, and she has enjoyed fording the river of erotic fiction for the first time, as well as shamelessly working another Oregon Trail reference into this paragraph.

  More titles you may enjoy from Circlet Press!

  Like An Iron Fist: Dystopian Erotica

  edited by Katherine Bergeron and Cecilia Tan

  ISBN: 978-10885865-63-2

  Price: $5.99

  Dystopias are never precisely the opposite of utopias–they are closer to being failed "perfected" societies than evil empires by design. And one of the first orders of business for a fledgling dystopia is to figure out what to do about sex. Ban its non-reproductive forms like 1984? Encourage no-strings-attached orgies like Brave New World? Allow sexual variety only for an elite like The Handmaid's Tale? The most bloodthirsty dictatorship can never entirely eradicate the most primal of urges. The stories of Like an Iron Fist burn with the smothered passions of the silenced and the oppressed. Read them before it's too late…

  Apocalypse Sex: Love At The End Of The World

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  With their own demise staring them in the face, the characters in Apocalypse Sex all come to the same conclusion: it's time to have the best sex of their lives. Inhibitions are cast aside and fantasies are fulfilled as the doomed chase down their deepest desires. With stories by J. Daniel Sawyer, Elizabeth Coldwell, Elizabeth Schechter, Beverly Langland, and David Hubbard.

  Like A Mask Removed, Volume I: Erotic Tales of Superheroes

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  You don't have to be an evil genius to know superheroes are hot, and not just because of the perfect bodies clad in spandex. Like a Mask Removed, Volume I presents seven stories
ranging from vibrant romps reminiscent of the colorful comic book pages they are inspired by to modern experimental literary styles. Includes Lauren P. Burka. Angela Caperton, Tom Cardamone, Michael M. Jones, and more.

  Like A Mask Removed Volume II: Erotic Tales of Supervillains

  edited by Bethany Zaiatz

  ISBN: 978-1-885865-90-8

  Price: $6.99

  Although the battles of good versus evil found in comic books tug at our primal, childhood selves, these same primal urges lead us to exploring the erotic side of heroes--and villains. Five new, previously unpublished, original stories of the smoldering dynamics found between noble, honorable, well-meaning superheroes and their provocative nemeses. With Sophie Mouette, Raven Kaldera, and others.