The Midnight Rose

by April Vine

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  The Wild Rose Press

  www.thewildrosepress.com

  Copyright ©2008 by April Vine

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  Dedication

  Reviews

  The Midnight Rose

  Also available

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  The Midnight Rose

  by

  April Vine

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

  The Midnight Rose

  COPYRIGHT ©

  2008 by April Vine

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com

  Cover Art by Angela Anderson

  The Wild Rose Press

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com

  Publishing History

  First Scarlet Rose Edition, November 2008

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  This is for my husband, whose support means the world to me.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Reviews

  "What a fun read—The Midnight Rose is equally hilarious and brilliant, and April Vine delivers with this wonderful, sexy debut. Leah and Ryan are memorable characters who deserve everything they get. Hot, hot, hot!"~Ana Aragón, author of Sidelined by Love.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  The Midnight Rose

  Leah Jenkins should have known it would be the panties that would cause her the most grief of all. It was, of course, a section in her wardrobe that she paid scant attention to, resulting in her wearing only bikinis and thongs in nothing more decadent than comfortable cotton.

  But exactly how was she going to adorn that currently smooth and shining, shimmering and glimmering, waxed and scented pussy of hers?

  Having spent the better part of the afternoon in the care of professional hands, she wanted it dressed perfectly. It was, after all, the luminary feature in her upcoming evening show, which she subsequently titled as Leah Gets Her Pussy Filled ... Finally. Also known as Leah's Long Lasting Cum and Much Deserved Fuck. And if you traveled the arty circles abroad, it would be recognizable as The Coming of Age of Leah's Puritanical Pussy, featuring a superb Oscar performance by Ryan's nine-inch cock, otherwise known as God's gift to women, or at least to Leah.

  Reviewers would say something along the lines of how without the nine-incher, the entire evening would have just fallen apart.

  Applause for the cock.

  Sex For Everyone would be quoted as saying the pinnacle of all scenes was, of course, when Leah ... gotta love Leah ... gets stuck with that amazing cock ... just amazing, the fit, the fuck ... everything ... it had to have had audiences creaming in their pants.

  The Fucker's Press, always trying to find some moral appreciation for their audience, would say, “Leah, the hot South African newcomer, is certainly someone all young, consenting females can relate to and the way she rode that cock, (wow, what a cock) would have any number of women going out and seeking their own rides. They would want to scream her screams for themselves, feel her fuck for themselves. Pure coitus inspiration. Ten thumbs up."

  The only thing was, her guest star, one dishy Ryan Redford, had received no script whatsoever. As far as he knew, the title went something like Dinner with Leah and her Brother, Bill and, of course, he'd think he knew enough about eating to improvise here and there and for the rest, rely on experience. He had no idea that what awaited him was hot, wet and oh, so ready for him.

  "Might I ask who he is?” the saleslady asked, bringing Leah out of her Blue haze, with a matching flush to her cheeks. Thank God for the free-thinking, internal enterprise of the human skull.

  She stood in the sultry lingerie store on the banks of the Victoria and Alfred Waterfront. Her beloved city, Cape Town, never rushed or hurried, was still keeping its slow dreamy pace, the sun high and orange, the sea breezy but relaxed, even while she was facing her underwear dilemma.

  "Well ... he's my brother's best friend,” Leah said, biting her lip. Could she really pull this off? Yes. She'd prepped, prodded, prepared, and pepped herself into this. But now that the time had come, could she well and truly pull it off, for real, and not only in her head?

  "So it's platonic."

  "Well ... no ... not really,” Leah replied. Almost all her life she had known Bill's best friend, Ryan. As soon as she understood the nuances of a prepubescent crush, she had developed one on the six foot and a bit, green-eyed, thick lashed, raven-haired, superbly muscled Ryan. But he was seven years older than she was and treated her like his sister, too, which made everything copacetic with the secret, innocent, kiss-me crush she had on him.

  "Then you don't know how the evening will end?” the saleslady asked, smiling.

  "I haven't a clue,” Leah said truthfully, because eight years ago that very innocent kiss-me crush on Ryan had catapulted into a sweltering fuck-me obsession. One which, because it was not honored, kept her a virgin as many years later.

  "So, I take it, the man is drop-dead gorgeous?” she asked, a knowing look in her eyes.

  "Yes.” Leah blushed, already breathless when she thought of exactly how gorgeous he was. Ryan had made every other male on this planet seem so lacking they were actually oblivious in her eyes. But at twenty-seven, she was taking charge of her life and sexuality, had summoned up the courage to call and invite him to dinner at her house, alone—without Bill.

  That she had babbled through the invitation had not reflected negatively on him and had guaranteed her a date, which he didn't know was a date, because he had to assume Bill was also going to be there. The worst that could happen was he'd reject her, based on his relationship with her brother and the code they shared.

  But she believed she was worldly enough she could suffer the humiliation, and of course, she had plans of skipping the country and hiding in a nunnery if the worst occurred. But it was going to happen, come hell or high water. She was going to put forth her pussy and invite him to take his cock on a very hospitable stroll through her hot wet canal and maybe, just maybe, he'd want to plant himself there permanently and grow old with her.

  Okay, so maybe that was not going to be her pick-up line, but she was, at the first hint of his refusal or denial, going to use everything in her female power to get him where she wanted, consequences be damned.

  When, over the phone, he said he would get the beers that he and Bill drank, and wine for her, she told him not to bother with wine. Mischievously she thought the only thing she was going to drink was what was going to come out of his cock. All these were new thoughts to her, normally thoughts that had just hovered without images. But with the help of her hormones, desperation, hunger, and fear of dying a virgin, they came in HD with magnificent surround-sound.

  And while they still shocked her, she liked having them. But that didn't mean she couldn't be affected by them. The thought of suckin
g Ryan's cum out of his dick instead of sipping decorously from a glass of wine had her missing her office chair completely. She was just glad he hadn't seen anything through the telephone.

  "Ah,” the saleslady said, peering over her spectacles at Leah. “There are only three ways to dress up for a man, my dear."

  "Really?” Leah asked. Only three ways?

  "Oh, yes. The Morning Rose. The Afternoon Rose.” Her eyes grew wide with mischief. “And, The Midnight Rose."

  "Of course,” Leah replied, her hand on her pounding heart. If it all boiled down to three ways in which a woman could dress up for her man, then she wanted to know them all. It would be an imperative decision to make and one made primarily for Ryan, naturally.

  "Let me explain. The Morning Rose is shy. An example might be, I'll take a kiss on my hand as a goodnight."

  A kiss on her hand? The last thing Leah needed was for Ryan to give her a chaste goodnight kiss, and on her hand on top of that. No, she wanted his lips on every inch of her body.

  "The Afternoon Rose means you can touch me if you want, with the lights off and nothing kinky,” the sales lady continued.

  Nothing kinky? She wanted everything kinky Ryan could give her. She was way too starved for just the missionary position. Leah turned an expectant look on the sales lady.

  "And The Midnight Rose...” The saleslady paused for effect.

  "The Midnight Rose?” Leah leaned forward, her entire attention focused. Her eyes widened and her breath caught. She was struck with a premonition that whatever The Midnight Rose meant, it would be something deliciously, daringly, licentious.

  She leaned in to whisper in Leah's ear. “The Midnight Rose says, ‘I want your hot cock to fuck me everywhere it can.’”

  The blush that crept onto Leah's cheeks burned to flames as she remembered in vivid detail the episode that had changed her life and brought her to this point. Everywhere didn't only mean her mouth or her pussy. It was exactly how she saw Ryan fucking his then-girlfriend that had taken over her fantasies for eight long years.

  How she had hated Sonia Guard, Ryan's girlfriend of that day. She hated the way Ryan had kissed her, touched her, but then when she had accidentally come across them fucking, she'd wanted to be Sonia Guard. She wanted to be the woman whose ass Ryan fucked. But because of Bill, Ryan would have shunned her advances and then she would have rather died from the humiliation of it.

  But now she wasn't going to give him a choice. Eight years was too long and it was time she made her own movie.

  "I'll take ... The Midnight Rose, thank you,” she said, and the saleslady showed her underwear that was ungodly sparse in all the wrong places. The black satin and leather bra was sparsely cut, meant to squeeze the outer and lower curves of her breasts together until her nipples would surely spill over. She was certain they would not be covered no matter how hard she might try to pull and shove. The panties were merely a string, a tiny triangle attached to that string and more strings that she would use to fasten to her hips. Skimpy and scanty and oh-so-sluttish. A shiver of excitement went through her.

  But that wasn't all.

  Where The Morning Rose came with a heart-shaped key ring, and the Afternoon Rose came with a cute little teddy bear, the black leather and satin Midnight Rose package came with an ungodly-sized dildo.

  "We're having a promotion,” the saleslady whispered in Leah's ear. “As women we understand that even if a cock is superb, there is only one per man. God's oversight, I think."

  Leah quickly signed her credit card receipt, grabbed her parcel and fled the shop, nearly knocking over an incoming customer. She might be okay with it in her head, but she didn't want anyone seeing her with the enormous, rubber cock. What might they think?

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  Ryan Redford had become very accustomed to the groan inside his head. It had started when he realized Bill was not a party to Leah's dinner. Alone, he had no right to be there. But that groan had gotten louder when he saw her in that torturously little dress she greeted him in at the front door. When he inhaled her perfume, it had started to ricochet through his head with a thunderous boom.

  Drugged now, he dared look at the thick-fringed, hazel-eyed beauty before him with her long, satiny, scented dark brown hair and wonderfully sexy body. She was still the sweetest rose he had ever seen and he was so crazily in love with her he couldn't think straight anymore.

  He had been in love with her since she had turned eighteen when, suddenly, her legs were no longer just appendages, but long and shapely, and ones he wanted wrapped around his waist as he pressed his cock inside her. And then her breasts had suddenly filled out from nowhere, ample and round, and every time he spotted her nipples through her bra and t-shirt he would physically salivate, knowing they would taste like ripe sweet cherries in his mouth. Her hips were made for his hands; her lips were kissable, pink and lush.

  But that wasn't all. Not only had she become a full-blown, touchable woman in all areas necessary, she could argue the hell out of him and, even if he was right, she would turn those hazel eyes up at him and melt his resolve. Yes, he was getting it so bad for his best friend's baby sister that, whenever she was near, he walked around with a constant ache in his groin.

  Consequently, he had separated himself from her, never leaving an opportunity open where he might be alone with her, because just the sight of her could turn an already titanic erection into a raging fire that only her pussy juices could extinguish. And it had scared him then, as it did now. But he wasn't going to break that implicit code he shared with Bill. It was elementally a matter of honor, an unspoken, though practiced, norm.

  Never fuck your best friend's little sister, plain and simple.

  But more importantly, he knew if he ever penetrated her loveliness with his rock-hard cock, she'd disintegrate into petals and he would surely burn in hell for his sin. Leah Jenkins was meant for a museum, to be admired, because he certainly didn't want anyone else touching her. It was a severe case of ‘if I can't have you no one else can'. His ego was all warped, but he didn't know what he'd do if she ever had a serious boyfriend.

  She never had. He'd made it his business to know.

  But that didn't change the fact he was alone with her here, having dinner with her, without Bill to act as chaperone and conscience. And all the while he was losing his thinking abilities quicker than he wanted as his brain became consumed with what she wore under her clothes. The thought had his cock twitching a hello and welcoming her fully. He put his hands in his jeans pockets and kept them there throughout the evening, knowing he should have left the instant he knew Bill was not joining them. Especially when they ate the lovely lasagna she'd prepared just for him, and he wished he was eating from her pussy instead.

  He choked then. God, help him. This was Bill's kid sister. She was eyes off, hands off, cock off. “I'd better be going,” he said after having had the dessert which he couldn't quite remember with a name, or place a taste to.

  "No, stay. It's early."

  Only it wasn't. It was already a quarter hour to midnight. They were sitting in her stylishly decorated lounge, her opposite him, a low coffee table separating them.

  Ryan's eyes touched her legs. She always had such beautiful, long legs. And he knew with just one blow, he'd be able to lift that flimsy dress off her thighs and take a peek at her innocent panties. He imagined them to be cotton, with little flowers, full, covering her mound and that tight ass of hers. Fuck.

  "I think I really should be going...” He rose from the sofa at the same time Leah did from hers.

  She rounded the coffee table and came to stand in front of him. “Ryan, stay, please,” she said softly, her hands spanning across his chest. His heart began to thud; the erection that had been faithfully-sized throughout the evening tripled. Was she was trying to kill him?

  "Stay with me,” she whispered as she raised her face and pressed her lips innocently against his.

  Ryan growled. In an instant he would have had her in his ar
ms. He would have forced her mouth open so he could drive his tongue inside. God, she would taste so sweet. He would kiss her hard until she moaned and gasped, and those were the very thoughts that brought him to his senses. He peeled her off his body. “Leah, I'm leaving—” And he made for the door.

  "No,” Leah said urgently, trying to block his way.

  "Dammit, Leah, stop this. Or you're going to regret it.” He moved her aside, the front door within his reach. But before he could reach out and turn the brass handle, he froze in place.

  From behind him Leah was saying the most ... unlikely things.

  "Oh ... ooooohhhhh, Ryan, your cock is so big, it's killing me ... oh, baby ... fuck my ass ... shoot it all inside me. Oh yes, Ryan, pinch my cunt ... harder. God you make me crazy, baby ... my pussy juices are just pouring out of me. Just fill my asshole with all your cum ... baby. Oh, you are my God. No one in this world has ever fucked me the way you do ... no one ever will..."

  Slowly the freeze thawed and he spun around to face her, a vision in heels, uttering words from her sweet mouth that were giving him a gigantic erection all over again.

  "Ring a bell, Ryan?” she asked.

  "I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

  "Sonia Guard? Remember her? Your one-time girlfriend?"

  Did she seriously expect him to remember another woman when she was standing in front of him, erotic words spilling from that sweet mouth of hers? “I can't remember who she is."

  "We spent a weekend at the cabin, eight years ago. You and Bill were given some time off by the agency and—"

  "I remember that weekend, Leah.” He shook his head. “You had to study—you had a big exam that week. You were nineteen, your second year at law school."

  "You remember all that but you can't remember the girl who called you her god?"

  And then his memory dawned. Yes, there was a girl, there were always plenty. And even though he couldn't make out her face in his memory bank, she was there. And the only reason he could even summon up her presence was because of something that had happened. “That was you?"