He didn’t look proud. “It only lasted a few months. When she began taking me to Society parties, I realized I was just another in a long line of pet boys she liked to keep around. At that point, she was beginning to tire of me, and hinted that I should share my favors with the other, older female members. I refused. So she told me if I wanted to keep my membership, I had to act as a Muse toward a new recruit. You.”
She slowly processed his words. Now she understood Professor Deveaux’s oddly hostile manner toward her as the tests went on. On some level, she must have been jealous of Chelsea’s bond with the young man she still considered her property. “So you didn’t go through the tests like I did?”
He shook his head. “They only test people they think might react badly to the actual parties. They want to see how far you’ll go. Since I was already Professor Deveaux’s lover, she vouched for me.”
“So it’s just a sex club.” Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment at her own naivete, but she had to confirm this. “All her talk about publishing and networking was just a load of crap.”
“Oh, that part is real enough, for the older, successful members. For the students they bring in like us, yeah, it’s bullshit. We’re just the entertainment, the inspiration as they call it. In the months I’ve been hanging around, I haven’t seen any young writer benefit from their connections. They don’t even like us to talk to the more famous members.”
“Then why do any of them stick around?”
He shrugged. “Desperation to get published, I guess. And the chance to befriend some of the most legendary writers of our time. And, of course, to have the sex life of their wildest fantasies. Erotics Anonymous may not be your cup of tea, Chelsea, but plenty of people do enjoy that kind of scene.”
She was disgusted with herself, with Professor Deveaux, with the entire system. Even with Jeff for willingly buying into it. “Professor Deveaux made it sound so elegant and harmless,” she said softly. “I’m a fool. A stupid, naïve fool who thinks everything is going to turn out perfectly, like in the books I read.”
“No, Chelsea, no. You were simply deceived.” He stroked her cheekbone and stared imploringly into her blue eyes. “But you showed a lot of courage tonight and you should be proud of that.”
She rubbed her face against his fingers like a cat. “Why didn’t you just tell me during our tests?” she whispered. “We were alone together then. I was so hungry to look in your eyes, speak to you, know who you really were.”
His body stiffened. “I wanted to. You looked so innocent that first night…but Odette insisted that you wrote these kinky stories. And you did willingly go along with the tests. I thought you might report me as a traitor and choose the advantages of the Society over me.”
She leaned over and kissed his beautifully shaped mouth. “Never.”
They were close to campus. With a warm feeling of relief, Chelsea spotted the chapel steeple in the distance. The blue lights of a fancy French restaurant glittered on the snowy streets as they drove down Main Street. She sighed, thinking enviously of all those girls in her dorm who had enjoyed traditional Valentine’s Day celebrations with boring college boys. Never again would she look down her nose at their romantic dreams.
Muse knocked on the glass. “Can you let us off up here at Les Bijoux?” he asked the driver.
She looked at him, bewildered. “What? I’m in a bathrobe!”
“This is our first Valentine’s Day together. We’re going to start out right.”
The maitre’d looked astonished to see an elegant young man in a tuxedo come in with a girl clad in a long black bathrobe and stiletto heels. Chelsea stood proud, giving him a confident smile. After standing naked in a room full of strangers tonight, she doubted much could embarrass her ever again.
She kept that smile on her face as they walked through the white-clothed tables, drawing stares from the remaining Valentine’s Day couples. At this late hour, many of the tables were empty, but some couples still lingered over their wine and chocolate mousse. Chelsea slid into a luxurious booth of soft leather and opened her menu as if she were dressed perfectly respectably for the most romantic night of the year.
After a few moments, she glanced around. She recognized many of the couples from campus. Yes, this was exactly the kind of Valentine’s celebration she had scorned as being clichéd and boring. Now there was no place she would rather be. She glanced back to find her Muse gazing at her over the candle flames.
“By the way,” he said with a shy smile, “my name is Milo.”
It was just after eleven p.m. when Les Bijoux closed and Chelsea and Milo headed into the street. The snow was still falling, transforming the parked cars lining Main Street into white-bound humps. The icy sidewalks glowed red and blue under the neon sign of the bar where they had first met. As the bitter chill penetrated her bathrobe, the warmth of the wine she’d imbibed vanished. She huddled into Milo as he hailed a taxi, acutely aware of her nakedness.
As they slid into the backseat, he seemed nervous. “Uh, Chelsea, you have to remember that I’m just a graduate student. My place isn’t as grand as the Society parties. There won’t be any fancy hotel rooms or masks or naughty outfits…”
She took his jaw in her hand and looked deeply into his eyes. “Milo, I fell for you. Not a kinky fantasy.”
A few minutes later the taxi pulled up in front of a large ramshackle house that looked as if it had been divided into apartments. Milo paid the driver and helped her out, escorting her up the icy driveway.
He unlocked the door. As her eyes adjusted to the dark room before her, she found herself in a typical student apartment. The leather couches and sophisticated stereo equipment hinted that Milo might be more well-heeled than a lot of struggling students, but it was very much a bachelor pad nevertheless. She brushed the snowflakes from her hair and kicked off the painful stilettos for the last time and turned to him.
Milo pulled off her bathrobe with a casual swiftness that left her speechless.
“Uh…” she stammered, not sure how to react to being stripped nude for the second time in one night.
“Relax,” he said, delivering a hot, brief kiss to her petulant mouth. “I just want to warm you up.”
He pulled off his tux then, exposing that hard-muscled body she had explored so reverently in the penthouse on her last test. For the first time, she could feast her eyes on all of Milo’s splendor at once, from his sexy smile to his athletic torso to his long, stiffening cock. The effect was mouthwatering, like a statue brought to life. As she reached for him, he clasped her hand and led her into the bathroom.
He lit a candle, and then turned on the spigots inside a spacious steam shower. “First things first. You’re chilled to the bone.”
He turned off the bathroom lights and led her into the shower. As the single candle flame flickered against the dark, Chelsea gazed up into Milo’s beautiful face. The play of light and shadow on his bone structure only emphasized the sculpted height of his cheekbones and the shape of his lips. “You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” she told him.
He kissed her slowly. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispered.
“Happy Valentine’s Day.”
The hot water cascaded over her stiff, chilled muscles like a luxurious dream. Chelsea closed her eyes, allowing herself to melt back into the magic of Milo’s hands as he thoroughly kneaded every aching part of her. Never had she felt so safe or taken care of with a man. He rubbed shampoo in her hair, cleaning it carefully to avoid tangling its length, then massaged an apricot-scented shower gel into her skin. As he knelt down in front of her to stroke the gel into her legs, her deep contentment veered unexpectedly into arousal. Through half-closed eyes she watched him kneel before her like a servant supplicating a queen or goddess. That was one game they hadn’t played as strangers—but she wouldn’t mind playing it tonight.
She lifted one foot onto a shower ledge, opening her thighs before him. His brown eyes lifted to her pussy, then ro
se questioningly to her face. She smiled down at him.
Without breaking her gaze, he extended his tongue and ran it up her sex, from the beginning of her tender slit to the top of her clit. He paused with a torturous delay that made her grit her teeth.
“Please,” she whispered at last.
At that one word, his tongue danced over her sex like a flame. Agile and deft, his mouth teased her slick opening with rapid thrusts of his tongue before swimming up to suck her clit between his lips. As his mouth tugged gently on her most sensitive nerves, a new gush of arousal flooded her pussy. Chelsea leaned back against the blue tiles of his shower and moaned, shamelessly thrusting her pussy into his face. She caressed his hair, now wet and matted, as his tongue flicked against her like a hummingbird’s.
“Inside,” she whispered tightly.
He spread her tender lips and slid two fingers inside her, wiggling them back and forth in a replay of their first night at the bar. At the memory of that first anonymous encounter and the fever he had incited in her, she felt her excitement crest anew. “Don’t stop,” she moaned. She pressed his head harder against her as his tongue and fingers alternated strokes. “Oh God…”
Milo slid onto his back, then pulled her down on top of him so that she straddled his face. In this position, his tongue thrust deep inside her, resuming his fingers’ role as they slowly rubbed her clit. Chelsea moaned again, grinding against his mouth. The shower pounded down on them both, plastering her hair over her face so that she felt wild and out of control. Primitive with desire, she rocked back and forth on his mouth. A thunderous heat swelled in her blood, filling her pussy like electric light. She opened her eyes and saw his candlelit face beneath her, that mysteriously perfect face she had waited so long to see, now openly worshipping her with his mouth. Her orgasm cracked through her like a whip. Violent spasms of lust washed through her as she came and came on his mouth.
She slumped to the side, pushing her long wet mane from her face. Wet heat consumed her body now and not merely from the steamy shower. She cleared her throat, trying to think.
Milo struggled up into a sitting position. His hair was as drenched as hers, his beautiful mouth swollen where she had ridden it. He only leaned past her to turn off the water. He extended a hand to her. “Come.”
He wrapped her in a fluffy blue towel and led her to his living room sofa. She watched contentedly as he lit more candles around the room, then retrieved two glasses and a bottle of wine from the kitchen.
“To Cupid, who works in mysterious ways,” he said, toasting her.
“To Cupid.” She sipped her wine before leaning in to kiss him again. After the obstacles of masks and blindfolds and mysteries for the last month, she didn’t think she would ever tire of kissing him or running her fingers along his beautiful cheekbones. At last she had the full freedom to touch him in any way she pleased and she intended to make full use of it. His mouth met hers with tender desire. Lightly he bit her lips, and then kissed her for real, his lips moving over hers with skillful heat. His tongue tasted of wine and the sweetness of her juices.
At last she broke away and drank more wine. She noticed through the windows that the snow was still spiraling down from the bright February night sky, as if to blanket the earth with a fresh start. This was no longer a snowfall, but a blizzard.
“Looks pretty bad out there,” Milo said. “You might wind up trapped here.”
“And without a thing to wear.” She flashed him by opening her towel.
He flung the towel to the floor and pulled her into his arms, his erect cock pushing between her legs. “I’ll get you back to the dorm somehow tomorrow. How are you going to tell your roommate we met?”
The silky pressure of his erection was making it hard to think. “The campus bar… It’s the truth.”
“Oh. I thought we met in the library.”
They laughed. Milo sheathed himself in a condom and pulled her legs around his hips, positioning his cock at the soft wet entrance of her sex. She leaned her forehead against his, staring deeply into his eyes as he slowly drove deep into her pussy.
“I love you,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you before.”
She shook her head, twisting her arms around his neck. “I already knew.” She bit her lip as he began to rock into her with rhythmic, sensual thrusts. “I love you too, Milo.”
He held her hips, driving in and out of her with a ferocity and passion that matched the heat of his eyes. As she gazed into their smoldering depths, she knew that he truly was her muse in every way, from the star of her fantasies to the inspiration for her writing. All over town tonight, people were celebrating Valentine’s Day in their own way, from candy and roses on campus to sex games in the country. But she knew there was no way she’d rather celebrate than this, in love and lust, with the true man of her dreams.
About the Author
To learn more about Veronica Wilde, please visit http://www.veronicawilde.com or send an email to Veronica Wilde at [email protected].
Look for these titles
Strangers in the Night
The Valentine Effect by Bonnie Dee
Like a Thief in the Night by Bettie Sharpe
Now Available
Hunk of Burnin’ Love
A man whose passionate heart has been torn apart. A woman who’s never risked hers. Can love bring them a new beginning?
The Valentine Effect
© 2008 Bonnie Dee
Carrie Morrison is resigned to spending another Valentine’s Day alone, but Cupid brings her a surprise—packaged in the hot body of the father of one of her third grade students. When Enrique Torres stops by her classroom to discuss his son, sizzling chemistry erupts between them.
Ric is a widower, father, garage mechanic, and the hottest Latin lover a woman could wish for to fulfill her Valentine fantasies. One hot night with Carrie in his bed leaves him wanting more, but she’s not sure if she’s brave enough for a relationship beyond a one night stand.
But Ric isn’t about to let Carrie go that easily. She has healed his broken heart, and he’s ready for forever.
Enjoy the following excerpt for The Valentine Effect
Watching him weave through the throng around the bar, Carrie realized he wasn’t really that much taller than most of the men in the club. He just seemed that way because his presence was so overpowering—at least to her. She turned her attention to the dance floor again, watching the couples spin around. In an unbelievably short time, Ric was beside her again, handing her a glass of soda.
“How’d you do that?” She glanced at the bar, which she couldn’t even see for the crowd surrounding it.
“What?” His eyebrows raised, honestly clueless.
“Never mind.” The sweet, cold soda had never tasted so good. She chugged the glass empty in a few swallows, set it on the table, and pushed her hair back from her sweaty forehead.
Ric drank a little of his beer before placing his glass beside hers and moving to stand in front of her, his hands at her waist.
Head tilted back, she looked up into his face.
He ran his finger down the bridge of her nose, felt the texture of a lock of her hair, then cupped her cheek and gazed at her mouth for a long moment.
The anticipation of a kiss had Carrie’s heart racing and her body yearning toward his. She wanted to curl her hands around the back of his neck and pull him down to her, but waited, breathless, while his thumb traced her lips and his eyes examined the contours of her face and mouth. When she thought she could stand it no more, he leaned down slowly and pressed his lips to hers.
Just like on the dance floor, the bustle and clamor of the club faded away and Carrie felt they were in an impermeable bubble. She breathed in his scent. His lips closed over hers and his tongue flicked over the seam of her lips until she opened them and allowed it inside. The mingled taste of sweet soda and malted ale combined as his hot, wet tongue slipped over and around hers. She rested her hands against his che
st, feeling the strength of his hard muscles, the heat of his skin and the rapid beating of his heart.
He kissed her breathless again, leaving her gasping when he pulled away. Then he pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, her cheek, her jaw and neck. The soft movement of his lips was like a feather being trailed across her skin. She shivered and clamped her cheek to her shoulder to shut him out.
“Do you want to leave? It’s hard to talk here,” he spoke near her ear to be heard over the music, then straightened to look into her eyes, his hands resting on her shoulders. “Maybe one more dance first?”
A slow, sultry number was playing and Carrie couldn’t refuse the offer of another chance on the dance floor with him. “Sounds good.” She was ready to agree to just about anything he wanted under the spell of his breath-stealing kisses.
Once more, Ric led her onto the dance floor. He held her for a moment in the classic waltz pose as they moved in time to the hypnotic beat, then he spun her around so her back was to him. One hand pressed against her stomach, while the other clasped hers. She leaned back into his solid body, which was like a wall at her back. His erection pressed against her rear as their lower bodies swayed in sync with one another.
Carrie allowed her head to fall back against his chest and gave herself over to the sensual music and tropical rhythm. The song was in Spanish, which she remembered just enough of from high school to catch words like amor and siempre. Love and always.
Ric brought her hand up to rest on the back of his neck, and then ran his fingers lightly down her arm, leaving chills in their wake. He ended with his hand on her ribcage just beneath the swell of her breast.
Her nipples hardened at the proximity, aching for him to fondle them. She arched her chest forward slightly and pressed her ass back against him, all without losing the beat.
They moved together in a slow, erotic dance. Just when Carrie thought it couldn’t get any sexier, Ric began to sing, softly, his baritone a counterpoint to the woman singing. The words could have been about buying laundry detergent. It didn’t matter. The sound of the foreign language and his husky voice had her quivering. Her pussy was a throbbing muscle of need, pulsing in time to the song and soaking her underwear. Need. Want. Now! Her body begged for fulfillment.
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