by Tina Pollick
“But you passed out.” He released her from his arms as she struggled to get to her feet. He could’ve sworn he heard her giggle, but damned if he could be sure.
She smoothed out her clothes and nodded. “When you came in I was dreaming, a very naughty dream. It felt so real, and when you woke me up… I was a bit mad to be honest. I felt attractive and sexy, and that’s something I haven’t felt in a long time. Then I felt guilty, but he had a dragon tattoo, and then you had one, and…”
Her words were cut off when he pulled her close and kissed her. He released her after a moment. “You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. I’m going to make sure that you never forget that again. I’m sorry, love. I’ve taken you for granted for far too long, and that won’t happen again.”
She reached down and traced her fingers over his dick, rubbing them back and forth. “I love you.” He picked her up and she squealed. “Put me down before you hurt yourself!”
He smiled and continued carrying her down the hallway to their bedroom. He kicked the door closed with his foot. “I love you too.”
The End.
If you enjoyed this, try GABRIEL: http://www.amazon.com/Gabriel-Kematian-Hunter-ebook/dp/B00B4JYSMC/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1375286477&sr=8-1&keywords=GABRiel+tina+pollick
Delicious Heat
By
Elizabeth Rose
“Meatloaf again,” Andrea’s husband Mark complained. She wilted inside. He had just gotten back from another business trip out of town and she wanted to make his meal special. She watched the Delicious Eats Network and made what she thought was a stunning Jalapeno Cheddar Meatloaf with buttery garlic and Rosemary potatoes and juicy sweet corn on the cob. Mark hated it.
Ever since his company started more outsourcing, it seemed like Mark spent every single weekend out of town. He came home stressed and moody, and all Andrea wanted to do was make his life more enjoyable. And she failed miserably at it.
Mark pushed the plate aside and grabbed his briefcase. “I’m not hungry right now. I have to go over all these financials from our Korean affiliate.”
He stood with an abrupt motion, knocking over his glass of milk. “Aw shit,” he said wiping futilely at it with his napkin.
Andrea walked over to him and grabbed his arm with a gentle grip. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I’ll get it.”
She looked into his eyes. Dead blue orbs stared back at her. She wondered if it was a reflection of her own eyes buried somewhere deep within there as well. He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “I’m sorry, sweetie. It’s not you. Really, it isn’t.”
He kissed her on the cheek, took his briefcase and went upstairs to his den. Tears slid from her eyes as she moved to collect the dishes. If it wasn’t her, what the hell was it, she thought as she put the food away and did the dishes.
****
“I just don’t know what to do,” Andrea lamented over the phone to her friend, Suzan. “He’s been gone every weekend. You don’t think he’s having an affair, do you?”
There was silence for a few seconds. “I don’t think so,” Suzan said, her tone more tentative than positive. “Most guys fucking outside of their vows usually don’t come home like tearing grizzly bears. Trust me, I know.”
Andrea sat on the couch in her grey sweats, white sleeveless top and Adidas sneakers. She munched on popcorn while watching the Delicious Eats Network, now muted while she talked to her best friend on the phone. Usually she would be working out right now, but she really didn’t have the heart to do so at the moment. She was viewing her favorite chef, the sexy Robert Gordon. Her moist tongue darted out and slid over her salty lips as she watched Robert illustrating how to make a traditional turducken. “Maybe that’s what I should have made him,” Andrea muttered, her voice miserable.
“I’m sorry, Andrea; what was that?”
“Turducken. I think if I made that for Mark, he wouldn’t have been so upset.”
There was a sigh on the other end of the line. “Andrea, sweetie, it doesn’t work like that. He’s overworked, stressed and underpaid. He’s not going to jump for joy because you took a little extra effort in making his meal. It doesn’t matter if was a grilled cheese sandwich, a turducken or a beef Wellington; he’d still have the same problems he’s struggling with. You can’t do much to help that. Trust me, I know.”
“I know,” Andrea said, watching Robert’s finely sculpted six-pack rippling under his black t-shirt as he moved about the kitchen with effortless grace while collecting the items for the meal he constructed.
“Mmmm…,” she murmured. There was a brief pause of silence on the other end of the line.
“Am I stimulating you with my voice,” Suzan asked with a chuckle. Andrea jumped as if she had been stung by a bee, knocking the popcorn to the floor. Her face flushed dark crimson.
“N-no, of course not! I was watching Robert in the kitchen, that’s all,” she stammered out as she got on the floor and began picking up spilt popcorn. Suzan giggled. “I wish I could see your face right now,” she said sniggering. Suzan’s voice was a little huskier than Andrea was comfortable with.
“I’m sure you do,” Andrea said, her tone vexed. “I have food all over the carpet now because of you.”
“Save some for me,” Suzan added with another giggle.
“I’m going to save it to throw at you,” Andrea muttered while licking butter off her fingers. She stopped, realizing how sensual her seemingly innocuous action now appeared, and in all probability sounded, as well. She coughed.
“So…uh…any new prospects on the horizon,” Andrea asked, trying to change the subject.
“I think I’m done with men for now. Too much hassle, even if it’s a fuck-and-run,” Suzan muttered with a lazy intonation. “That’s why I stayed single after my third marriage. If I get tired of the dating scene, there’s always just me and myself and I. Being married, you’re chained to whatever you signed on for. I kind of pity you in a way.”
“It…it’s not that bad…really,” Andrea stammered. She loved Mark with all her heart. She meant it every time the words left her mouth. But with things going the way they have of late, she was just…tired…for lack of a better word. Tired of seeing Mark suffer to make their dreams come true. Tired of seeing him defend that dream, even when she’d mentioned several times they could do without.
“Riiiight,” Suzan said with dubious approval. “Me, I like to keep the playing field open. I like to explore all options.” Andrea found herself wondering if Suzan was also eating something, as Suzan ended her last remark with a wet smacking of her lips. Andrea figured it would be better not to ask at this point in time.
“I’m sure,” she stated with dry enthusiasm. “Hey wait! Hold on!”
She turned up the volume on the T.V. “-that’s right, ladies! For one whole day, you can have Chef Robert Gordon in your home teaching you all his cooking secrets! Log in at www.delicen.com/robert4aday and enter for your chance to win! Or call 1-800-998-3232 and enter over the phone! Or text 1388 to 2149! That’s 1388 to 2149! All applicable charges apply, you must be eighteen or older to enter. Residents of-”
“Suzan, I’m going to-”
“Heard it,” Suzan said. “Race you!” Both women hung up and Andrea dialed the number right away. She gave all the relevant information. She hung up, her stomach full of butterflies. Robert Gordon in her kitchen!
****
Andrea tossed a bag of pretzel bread into the cart. She and Suzan had gone shopping for groceries. Suzan chuckled. “You’re going to buy all these groceries for Robert’s visit, and you don’t even know you’ve won yet,” she said, placing a hand on one of her shapely hips.
Suzan wore tight black jeans, a sleeveless cutout-neck top, and a pair of a Cosmopolitan jagged peep-toe ankle shoes. She was a raven haired bombshell with bronzed skin. Andrea envied her friend’s gorgeous body. Maybe if I looked like that, Mark wouldn’t be so moody all the time, she lamented, cursing her plain features, wide hips and stupid B-
cup. “Hey, a girl can still dream, right? Besides, it will give me new ingredients to try and make something special for Mark again.”
“Mhm,” Suzan muttered with dubious conviction. “We saw how that worked out last time.”
Andrea crossed her arms over her chest, jaw set with defiant angle. “I still believe that trying to make his hellish life a little easier is a noble endeavor and also part of my commitment to him as part of my vows. Why should I be ashamed of that?”
Suzan examined her fingernails. “Um, because you are getting nothing out of it but grief, and obviously Mark appears to be a little more selective about his marital obligations than you are.”
Andrea felt the heat of her anger, her arms waving for emphasis. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about Suzan! He’s busting his ass trying to make our dreams come true, and he comes home tired and moody and I can’t stand to see him like that!”
Tears slid down her cheeks unbidden. Suzan reached out and pulled her into a tight hug. “I’m sorry, Andrea. That was out of line. I didn’t mean Mark was a bad man. I just hate seeing you put so much into this marriage and get so little out of it. I am your friend, remember?”
Andrea became aware of Suzan’s plump breasts resting against her own. Suzan’s nipples were stiff, and while this occasionally happened to a woman without her being aroused, the other day’s conversation with Suzan made Andrea uncomfortable even considering the idea. Making her even more uneasy, however, was the identical response provided by her own firm nipples in response to the feel of Suzan’s body against her. She disentangled from the hug with as much tact as possible, trying to make it seem natural and not a brush-off, which it in fact, was. “I know, Suzan,” she said, her tone gentle as she rested a hand on her shoulder.
She was having trouble focusing. Her eyes lingered on Suzan’s full, plump lips. So moist. So inviting. Andrea’s body was betraying her, yearning for Suzan’s embrace. “It’s just…I don’t know. I feel…”
“Lost? Confused? Like you’re not enough for him? Sweetie, I’ve been there, remember? Hopefully you’ll win this contest with Robert and at least get some reprieve from your troubles.”
Suzan reached out and caressed Andrea’s cheek. “God knows you deserve it.”
Andrea wasn’t sure what she really deserved anymore. Hell, she wasn’t even sure what she really wanted anymore.
****
The phone rang two times before Andrea picked it up, looking at the CID. Her breath caught…it was the DEN contest number. She hit the talk button. “Hello,” she said, trying to keep the excitement out of her voice.
“Andrea Davis,” the disembodied female voice asked in a bored monotone.
“This is she,” Andrea replied with a shaky voice.
“This is the Delicious Eats Network. You entered the Robert for a Day contest recently?”
You’d think the woman was arranging a funeral for a complete stranger as uninterested or aloof as she sounded. “Yes. Yes I did. A couple of days ago, in fact.”
“Well congratulations. You won the contest. We need to take down some personal information for your prize delivery if it’s not too much trouble.”
“No, of course not. Wait, delivery? Robert is coming here to my house, isn’t he?”
The woman sighed, and her irritation was quite obvious to Andrea. It was the first genuine show of emotion Andrea had heard throughout the entire conversation. “Yes, Miss Davis. Robert is coming to your house for an entire day. Ergo, delivery of your prize,” she said with a dry tone.
The rest of the conversation became a haze in Andrea’s mind as she gave out all the required information to the receptionist and was told to expect Robert and the crew at about two-thirty in the afternoon on Saturday morning. That’s a whole day, Andrea questioned with a small grimace of her lips. Oh well, it’s still more than I could have ever hoped for, she realized with rising spirits.
She dialed Suzan’s number to give her the best news she ever received in her entire life. Sexy Robert Gordon in her kitchen! It was too good to be true! Things were finally looking up for a change.
****
Andrea wasn’t sure what to make Mark the following night. She went with spaghetti and meatballs. He came in over an hour-and-a half late, and the food was getting cold by now. The once piping hot garlic bread was now mushy and soft. Andrea feared the verbal berating she felt she was sure, in fact, she deserved, to get. Mark kissed her affectionately on the cheek and sat down to eat. He winced as he spooled spaghetti on his fork. “Dinner looks…um, it looked like it was a very good meal when you made it.”
She cringed. Mark must have noticed. He held up a hand in the universal gesture meant to placate troubled souls. “Not saying it’s not good,” he said forking a mouthful of spaghetti into his hungry maw.
Andrea winced as he slurped up the cold noodles with half a smile. He reached out and touched her hand. “Hey,” he said after he finished swallowing. “This is on me, honey. It’s what I deserve for being so damn consumed with the office. Don’t blame yourself for this.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks. “No,” she said, caressing his cheek. “You deserve so much more than this,” she said, biting the words with bitterness as she motioned to her body.
Mark put down his fork with concern and motioned her closer. He took her in his strong, loving arms. “Andrea, sweetie. This isn’t about the food. What’s going on?”
She wondered if she could find the words to tell him how she failed him so many ways in the short time they had been married. She was anything but gorgeous, her cooking was mediocre, she-
The phone in Mark’s pocket started vibrating and ringing a shrill, obnoxious ringtone. “God damn it,” Mark swore, reaching for it on instinct. He stopped.
“Andrea-”
“No,” she said, caressing his cheek with feigned, tenderness. “Go ahead, answer it.”
“No,” he said with firm conviction. The phone was on its fourth ring. “I need to-”
“You need to answer the phone,” she said, her voice as worn as her body felt. “Anything else can wait.”
“Andrea,” Mark said his voice crisp.
“Answer it,” she whispered. She started collecting the dishes, and discarding uneaten food. She could feel Mark’s eyes on her, drenched in concern and helplessness. She knew she wasn’t making his life any easier right now, but then again, she never felt like she had, to begin with. He could have any woman in the world. He was an incredibly gifted man where looks and sexual vigor were concerned. She had always felt like the luckiest woman in the world. Now she felt like an obstacle. A stumbling block. Now…now she just felt dead inside.
Mark grabbed her with a gentle grasp. She shrugged free. “Please, Mark. I just need to be alone for now. Please.”
Mark sighed. “Andrea, we can’t solve anything if-”
She raised her hands in frustration. “Mark, nothing is going to get ‘solved’ for a long, long time. Now please, just let me be!”
Mark lowered his head and ascended the stairs to his den. Andrea didn’t hear the door shut, and wondered if it was a subtle invitation to her. It was one she wouldn’t…couldn’t…accept. Not tonight. Maybe not anytime in the near future either.
****
Mark left for the weekend, yet again. Andrea hardly registered his absence this time. Unlike most weekends, where she lamented the seeming hole in her life when her husband left, now all she could think about was spending a whole half a day with Robert Gordon, the hottest DEN chef ever.
Friday night she dreamt of him in her kitchen, teaching her to cook, guiding her with those strong hands. And soon the cooking lesson would turn into something more...much more. Robert’s skilled hands would begin moving over her body, his touch alone more than enough to push her over the edge. He would begin removing her clothes, telling her how beautiful she was, how sweet she smelled. And then he would take her, claiming her as his own, severing the vows she had made with Mark in what no
w seemed ages ago. He would fill her and feed her hunger and the two would reach a blazing crescendo together, two bodies now one, and she would never, ever regret the decision. As long as she lived.
The sharp sound of flesh on solid wood interrupted her sinful dreams. She awoke startled, feeling the damp moisture soaking her panties. She wondered what the hell Suzan was doing over here on her Saturday morning, especially when she knew Andrea slept in. “Aw shit, Suzan,” Andrea muttered with exasperation.
Andrea stuffed her head in the pillow to stifle her frustrated scream. “You just had to get a peek at him, didn’t you? Gah.”
She threw on her robe and went downstairs to the door. Suzan was on her fourth knock, and seemed rather impatient today. Andrea hoped Suzan’s sensitive nose wouldn’t pick up the pungent scent of her spilled sex. That was one hot topic she didn’t need to broach today. Andrea swung the door open. “Suz-”
Her breath caught in her chest and she stifled the urge to scream. Standing before her in trademark tight black jeans and t-shirt was none other than Robert Gordon himself, now in the flesh. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I was told you’d be here at two-thirty.”
Robert chuckled. The sound was sweeter than pure golden honey. “I always do a dry run to get my guest comfortable. I assume that little memo wasn’t passed on?”
“No,” Andrea muttered, cursing the damn bored receptionist who took her information.
“Well,” Robert said holding up a basket filled with food. “Why don’t you, um, freshen up and I’ll start laying out our prep.”
“Of course. I won’t be long,” Andrea assured him, her tone nervous.
Robert shot her yet another one of his disarming, beautiful smiles. “Take your time. Slow cooking usually tends to be the most savory type.”
Andrea stopped. Was he hitting on her? No, of course not. That couldn’t be. Her excitement was overriding her common sense. She fought down the butterflies in her stomach and resisted the urge to lock her lips on his and refuse to let go. “Sure. I’ll be down shortly then,” she said with as much calm as she could muster.