LOL #3 Romantic Comedy Anthology

by Anthology

  He lights the joint and inhales, then coughs like he has coal miner’s lung. It’s not sexy, but it is funny.

  I laugh until he passes it to me and I do the same. “Damn.” I take a shallow breath to stop the coughing. “This burns.”

  He snickers and gestures for me to pass it back. He exhales a small cloud that billows over the railing and dissipates into the falling snow.

  After two hits, the floaty feeling I remember returns. I haven’t been really stoned since college. I giggle at nothing and he joins me.

  “What’s funny?” he asks.

  “I have no idea.” I laugh louder, tipping back into the room and lying on the carpet.

  “Do you want more?” He holds the glowing joint near me.

  “Just one more or I’ll be too high for sex.” I inhale, and keep from choking this time. I sit up to blow the smoke outside then hand the joint back to him. I flop back on the carpet, but roll to the side away from the cold air. I attempt to stand up by moving to all fours and feel the snaps of my bodysuit give way. It rolls up my torso like a window shade. It’s both horrifying and liberating at the same time. Laughing, I lose my balance and end up on my belly on the floor.

  “You okay?”

  I turn my head to see he’s standing over me. He’s closed the door to the balcony and put out the joint.

  I roll over and hold up my hand to get him to help me stand.

  “I popped my snaps.” I open my robe to show him, essentially flashing the mountain if anyone happened to be out there in the darkness.

  “What’s going on down there?” he leans toward me.

  If it weren’t for the tie of the robe keeping the bodysuit at my waist, it would be under my boobs by now. As it is, I’m pantsless in all senses and flashing my husband. I close the robe.

  “Nothing to see here. Let’s move along.” I turn around and try to resnap myself, but it’s incredibly awkward due to the fact that I might be on my way to being incredibly stoned.

  “What was that we smoked?” I ask, my words sticking in my mouth like honey.

  “Marijuana,” he says with a straight face, flopping on the sofa and pulling me down on top of him.

  “I know, but was it military-industrial complex strength? Like from Nam or something?”

  “What are you even saying?”

  “I have no idea. I’m thinking that in about fifteen minutes it’s a good thing we have a bar full of complimentary snacks and beverages.”

  “That is a very good thing.”

  I lean my head on his shoulder.

  “Do you still want to have sex?”

  Sex! I’d forgotten. “Yes!” I jump up and run to the bedroom.

  I strip off the fluffy soft goodness (so fluffy) and the snapping lace torture costume. I struggle with getting it over my head and tip on to the bed face first. Before I can right myself, he stands behind me, his thighs brush mine.

  “Stay still.”

  I don’t really have a choice. I’m bent at the waist, face down in a fluffy Fluff bed with my arms and shoulders bound by lace. I wait for him to do something. And wait.

  Finally, I turn my head to see him standing there staring at my ass, the flogger in his hand.

  “Hello?”

  “I don’t think I can do this. I keep thinking of Monty Python and the Spanish Inquisition.”

  “That’s not sexy.” I frown, trying to scoot up the bed and lose the lace.

  “You’re the one who bought the torture devices.”

  “They’re adult toys. We’re adults. These are age appropriate.” I pick up the nipple clamps that do indeed look like roach clips, but why would anyone need connected roach clips?

  “You’re not thinking of using those on me, are you?” He covers his tiny man-nipples with his hands.

  I open and close the clamps like miniature alligator jaws. “I want to bite your nipples,” I say in a creepy Boris Karloff voice.

  “Why do you sound like Karl Rove?”

  “I’m doing Boris Karloff.”

  “No, but you’re doing a spot on Rove.” He chuckles.

  “Is it turning you on?” I lunge at his chest with a clamp.

  He shrieks like a little girl and dodges the petite maws of pain. “Not sexy,” he says from the other side of the room.

  This is not going how I planned. At all.

  I stand up, stark naked and walk over to where he’s sitting in the chair. “I’m sorry for the Spanish Inquisition and the Rove. Let me make it up to you.” I kneel in front of him, face level with his cotton covered penis. I stroke him, bringing him to life. I reach my hands under the waistband and tug away the fabric. He lifts his hips to allow me to remove his boxers.

  I cup his balls with one hand and roll them around like a gambler with a giant pair of dice.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Shhh… I’m playing with your balls. They’re so fun. How do men not play with them all day long.” I make myself laugh. “Oh, wait, you do.”

  His hand stills mine. “You said something about a blow job?”

  I don’t remember saying anything, but I am on my knees making eye contact with his one-eyed-wonder. “Right, that.” I wrap my hand around his semi-hard length and stroke.

  His eyes watch me. “Use your mouth.”

  I stare back at him. Oh, right. “Right. I’m getting there. Shaking hands first.”

  He moans when I lower my mouth to the tip and kiss it.

  I lick him like an ice cream from base to tip and he groans, but in a good way. I lick again and swirl my tongue around the top. This is fun. I smile and exhale a little puff of air over the tip before wrapping my lips around him and slowly descending toward the base. I suck and lick, kiss, use my teeth a little and even blow, putting the blow in blow job. I crack myself up and try to laugh with a mouthful of Ben, and nearly gag. I go back to the ice cream licks for a while.

  “It’s not a popsicle,” he whispers.

  “There’s a reason it’s called a job, you know.” I swallow his length as much as I can stand, using my hand to cover the rest.

  “Mmm… that’s nice,” he says from above. I meet his eyes again and attempt a wink, which makes him laugh and bob in my mouth.

  I sit back on my heels. “I don’t think either of us is supposed to be laughing while I’m doing this.”

  “Or talking. Usually there’s a lot less talking.” He lifts my hands and pulls me up to standing.

  “I’m really thirsty now.” I walk, still naked, to the bar. I open a bag of tortilla chips, a tube of gummi bears, and a jar of almonds, and begin eating all three.

  “I thought you were thirsty.” He grabs my chips and eats one.

  “Right. Right.” I open a bottle of water, take a long swig, and offer it to him. I shove a handful of gummi bears into my mouth.

  “Still want to have sex?” he asks.

  I notice his erection has only deflated a little. He’s still raring to go.

  “Right. Sex. Let’s go.” I bring my snacks and water with me into the bedroom.

  We settle ourselves in the middle of the bed, like always. I roll toward him and he faces me. We kiss and I taste a combination of smoke and tortilla chips on his tongue. He rolls us over so he’s on top and slowly enters me.

  “I think you like giving blow jobs more than you admit. I can feel how excited you are,” he whispers.

  I am ridiculously horny today and feel like I’ve been ready since long before dinner. I moan and writhe beneath him, tilting my pelvis so he hits the right spot. We shift again and crunch the bag of chips beneath him. He reaches underneath and pulls out a chip. I lean forward and eat it.

  “Eating during sex is new for us.” He jokes. “You wanted new and exciting.”

  I spy a gummi bear on the pillow and offer it to him. It’s orange. I hate the orange ones and he knows this.

  He opens his mouth for me to toss it in. “So generous.”

  I actually forget that he’s inside me for a moment
until he thrusts harder into me. “We’re having sex right now,” I say to let him know in case he’s forgotten too.

  “We are. Go us!” He pumps his fist in the air and grinds me against him.

  We shift again and I nearly fall off the bed when we land too close to the edge. After some adjustments, we end up in the middle again. I laugh when my head gets buried under the pillows.

  It’s the last thing I remember.

  Ridiculously bright sunlight wakes me up. My head hangs off the edge of the bed and I have one leg dangling near the floor.

  “What happened?” I mumble, trying to right myself enough to roll over.

  The beautiful, snow white comforter and sheets are dotted with gummi bears and chip fragments. He’s on his back, mouth open and snoring to the high heavens. I poke his chest and shake his shoulder.

  “Wake up.”

  He grumbles and turns over. A few almonds are stuck in his hair.

  “Wake up.”

  “What? Why is it so bright?” He burrows under the covers.

  “It’s morning. Weren’t we having sex? That’s the last thing I remember. We were having sex and now it’s morning.”

  “We fell asleep.”

  “During sex?” I bury my head under my pillow. I lift just the edge to say, “We are the lamest people ever.”

  He laughs and pulls me into his arms. “I think we did. Or during a position change, but we are not the lamest people ever. We can have more sex. We could have sex right now. And this afternoon. And tonight. Tomorrow, the next day, and so on until one of us dies.”

  I chuckle and turn in his arms. “You say the nicest, but most morbid things.”

  “It’s the truth. We’re the blessed ones, Jo. We found each other in college and still love each other. It’s kind of a miracle if you think about it. We still want to be wild and adventurous with each other, even though we’re both old.”

  “Again, best complimenter ever award goes to Benton Grant.” I kiss the tip of his nose.

  His eyes crinkle with happiness. “And the best wife and life partner ever goes to Josephine Grant.”

  “Now you’re getting there. So this sex you were talking about?”

  “Yes?” He kisses me, morning breath be damned.

  “How about now?”

  He kisses me again and we finish what we started last night. It doesn’t involve ridiculously sexy but uncomfortable lingerie, or slightly medieval sex toys, no mind-altering substances either. Just us. Naked and loving each other.

  It’s pretty awesome sex.

  For married people.

  Author’s Note - Daisy Prescott

  Thank you for reading this Modern Love Story short. I hope you enjoyed this fun time with Ben and Jo, from my #1 Humorous Women’s Fiction bestseller, Geoducks Are for Lovers. Chronologically, Take the Cake occurs after Geoducks Are for Lovers (Modern Love Story #1).

  You can find Geoducks Are for Lovers on Amazon

  If you’re already a Modern Love Story lover, thanks for all of your support for these characters and this series. You’ll be happy to hear Confessions of a Reformed Tom Cat will be available February 2015. (Modern Love Story #4). Find all my books and short stories on Amazon or my blog, www.daisyprescott.com.

  To keep up with my latest news, upcoming releases, current obsessions, Rom-Com recs, and sales, sign up for my mailing list by clicking here. You’ll receive a free gift when you subscribe!

  About Daisy

  USA Today bestselling author Daisy Prescott has published three Modern Love Stories novels, Geoducks Are for Lovers, Ready to Fall, and Missionary Position, along with Pirotica under the pen name Suzette Marquis. She lives in a real life Stars Hollow in the Boston suburbs with her husband, their rescue dog Hubbell, and an imaginary house goat. When not writing, she can be found traveling, gardening, baking, and writing about herself in the third person. Her fourth novel, Confessions of a Reformed Tom Cat, is an interconnected-standalone in the Modern Love Stories series (releasing February 2015).

  More from Daisy Prescott:

  Modern Love Stories:

  Geoducks Are for Lovers

  Ready to Fall

  Missionary Position

  Confessions of a Reformed Tom Cat (Releasing February 2015)

  Modern Love Story Shorts:

  Take Two (Available in LOL #1)

  Take the Cake (Available in LOL #2)

  Take for Granted

  Under the pen name Suzette Marquis:

  The Mysteries of the Pink Pearl:

  The Pink Pearl

  Daisy Prescott

  www.daisyprescott.com

  Fall Fast

  A SEALs Undone short story

  Zoe York

  DESCRIPTION: Snowed in at O’Hare Airport with a sexy flight attendant—Navy SEAL Nathan Meyers isn’t complaining. But one night with his mystery woman isn’t going to be enough…

  GENRE: Contemporary Erotic Romance, 9,500 words or approximately 38 pages. This is a standalone story, written in the loosely connected SEALs Undone military romance series by Zoe York. You don’t need to read any previous books in the series to enjoy this one!

  HEAT LEVEL: Erotic

  Turn the page to begin reading Fall Fast by Zoe York, or click here to return to this anthology’s Table of Contents.

  Fall Fast

  Zoe York

  CHAPTER ONE

  Nathan Meyers stood in the Terminal 2 departures hall at O’Hare Airport and groaned. He shouldn’t be surprised that his flight from Chicago to San Diego was now delayed by more than two hours—a vicious winter storm was working its way toward the city. His sister had bugged him to check the flight status before he left her house, but as much as he loved Kelly and her brood—six kids, plus her husband and Polish mother-in-law—he’d been ready for some peace and quiet after three days of non-stop Uncle Nathan Fun Times.

  He found a map of the terminal. It looked liked all the beer was on the other side of security, so he had two options. Head back out into the snow, or go through security early and find a burger or something.

  Easy choice.

  Dodging around travellers with oversized suitcases and grumpy faces, he scanned his e-ticket from his phone at the nearest available self-serve kiosk, printed his boarding pass, and headed for security.

  Most of the time he flew around the world in military transport planes. But when he took detours like he had this weekend, hopping over to Chicago for some post-Christmas family time to make up for being in a South American jungle over the actual holidays, he had a simple travel routine down pat. One carry-on bag, boots unlaced in line, Navy ID visible at the top of his wallet.

  The pretty redhead in front of him had the same idea, but where he carried a canvas rucksack and wore Doc Martens, she had a small wheeled suitcase and zippered boots. She wore dressy clothes for a stormy night, a slim black suit over a green t-shirt, but her iPhone case had a big No Doubt sticker on the back and when she turned around to be wanded, her shirt rode up a bit and he caught a glimpse of a navel piercing with a dangly skull resting against the slight swell of her belly. His gaze stuck on the curved waist of her dress pants, and he imagined an entire dirty-girl fantasy in the two seconds it took her to be cleared.

  Damn.

  When she motored ahead, her scarf slipping off her jacket and landing on the floor between them, he knew exactly how he wanted to spend the next couple of hours.

  “Hey!” He snagged the cream silk from the floor and jogged after her. “Excuse me… ”

  Even in her heeled boots, she was small compared to him. Small and speedy. He gently tapped her elbow when he caught up, getting her attention. When he snagged her gaze, it was wary. With a smile, he stepped back and held out the scarf. “I think you dropped this.”

  Her eyes flared wide and her lips pulled together in a surprised O. “Thank you.”

  Holding out her hand, she grasped one end of the silk, but he wasn’t ready to let it go, not when he’d just gotten her bright blu
e eyes pinned on his face. He liked them there, so he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “My flight is delayed.”

  “Pardon?”

  “I think they’re all delayed right now.”

  “Yes.” She tugged on the scarf and he let it go. “Thanks again.”

  “So I was going to get a beer and a burger, and if your flight is delayed as well, I’d be happy to buy you dinner.”

  “Ah. No thank you.”

  “No strings attached, promise. I’m flying home to San Diego tonight, and we’re under the watchful eye of the TSA. Sure I can’t keep you company? I know some good knock-knock jokes.”

  Emme knew when she was being hit on in the casual, just-for-fun kind of way. In her early days as a flight attendant, she’d indulged in this game more than once. But today wasn’t the day for fun. She couldn’t help but smile back at the tallest, broadest, sexiest man she’d ever seen and wish she’d dropped her scarf in front of him any other day but today. And maybe that he lived a hair closer than San Diego, a city she rarely flew into.

  “Well, I do like a good kids’ joke, but I’m on standby for a flight that leaves in forty-five minutes, so I’ll have to pass.”

  With a twinkle in his eye, he pointed to the display above their heads. “Not likely.”

  In the few minutes it had taken her to get through security, all flights had been grounded. Damn it.

  She knew what this meant. Not only would she not be getting a standby flight tonight, anywhere, but she’d probably get called in to work early tomorrow. And since she hadn’t fled the city fast enough, and she could use the money, she’d take the shift.

  Fudgesicles. With a sigh, she turned back toward security. “That’s my cue to head home to bed, then.”

  “Alone?”

  Even though he’d obviously meant the question as a light flirtation, the question slid under her skin painfully. She glanced back at him over her shoulder, wanting to yell at someone for her forced period of solitary over the last year. “Yes. Alone. Not that it’s any of your business.”

  “That’s a shame.” This time he said it straight up, his dark brown eyes warm with apology, but also with something she hadn’t experienced in far too long—attraction aimed her way. An invitation. Like, if he wasn’t heading to San Diego, maybe he might actually like to spend a night in her bed.