The Ultimate Erotic Short Story Collection 17: 11 Steamingly Hot Erotica Books For Women

by Lawson, Victoria

  “Old man,” she replied, teasing him, and then shrugging nonchalantly. “I’m actually going to text a bar find from last time I was here… See if he’s up for a little something.” She wiggled her eyebrows for affect.

  “Who?” David asked, confused. The entire town was in the Grill that night, it seemed. Gwen only smiled.

  “That’s for me to know and you to find out,” she replied, which made him roll his eyes.

  “Fine. If your booty call doesn’t come through, you know your way home.”

  “Yep,” she kissed him on the cheek. “See ya later.”

  Once she was sure he was out the door, and that no one was really paying attention to her anymore, she slipped through the crowd, towards the side exit that she had seen Finn go out of. As she passed his chair, she dipped her hand down, casually sweeping up the napkin. She waited until she was out the door to unfold it.

  Hilton Hotel, Rivers Road. Room 394 was all it said. The Hilton hotel was in the next town over, a bigger place that the locals often referred to as ‘the city’. She checked her phone as she walked to her rental car, realizing it was just past midnight. This really was a booty call, or so it seemed.

  Gwen got a little lost on the way there, taking the wrong dirt path out of town, but once she found the highway, she made up for lost time, going nearly time and half the speed limit, her palms sweating in anticipation. Pulling into the parking lot, she checked her reflection in the mirror before getting out, her bare legs getting goose bumps in the night air.

  The lobby of the Hilton was what she was used to; having basically lived in hotels since she was 16 and on Broadway, despite her L.A. home. She took the stairs instead of the elevator, wanting to delay things a bit as her brain turned over the facts.

  She hadn’t seen Finn for nearly two years. He had been a wealthy hotel owner even then, offering to put up her entire cast in exchange for being named the ‘official’ hotel of the cast. She was young and carefree, on top of the world, and he was wealthy and secure, and their romance had been whirlwind and unexpected. She had told no one, then, about the fact that they shared her hotel room for two months; had told no one they had a love nest and whispered secrets in the dark. In the end, there were too many differences between their worlds, too many things that would need to change before they could be together. She had also told no one about the hole he had left in her heart. For Gwen had told him, told the world she didn’t believe in true love, and he claimed not to either.

  So why was she nearly shaking as she knocked on his door?

  He opened it, still dressed, although his jacket was off and his tie was loosened. Without a word, she fell into his arms, her lips devouring his as if breathing was optional. She hadn’t quite realized how peaceful and calming his arms were until she was in them, and then it was like the rest of the world didn’t exist. Finn gave the best hugs she had ever known, his entire focus on her, and nothing else.

  “Oh, baby!” He pulled her close, tangling his fingers in her hair, and breathing in her scent. “Oh baby. What the hell are we going to do?”

  “I really prefer not to talk about the future,” she replied, nuzzling her face into his neck and feeling his pulse beat strong. “Let’s talk about the past. What did you think of my song?”

  “I think you damn near killed me singing that song,” he whispered, unwilling to let her go. “That used to be our song.”

  “I thought she knew, when she chose it. I thought, somehow, she knew everything,” Gwen gave a little laugh, finally pulling back to look at him. The hazel eyes were still the same, bottomless and liquid, although they looked tired tonight, a few more lines under them and the shadows evident. He felt thinner than he was a few years ago, some of the lean muscle given away to bone. He works too hard she thought, as she hugged him. “Hell, she asked me if I knew the song and I damn near told her everything.”

  “Is that David then?” he inquired, finally letting go of her long enough to close the door. “The one you were with? The platonic love of your life?” He was teasing her, she could see no jealousy in his eyes. But then, there never had been. Without true love, there was never jealously, or so they kept telling each other. But she appreciated it; past boyfriends had never understood her having a male best friend.

  She smirked at that.

  “Indeed. You remember me talking about David and yet you didn’t remember that Hanover Heights was the town his family founded?”

  “I remember your lips. The way your eyes used to look at me,” he was teasing her now, taking her hand and leading her to the couch in the large suit, where she obliged him by folding herself to sit on it. He sat beside her, a bit formally, but still with her hand in his. “Oh, how I missed you, love.”

  “I missed you too,” she said, after a moment. “Although for a while, I didn’t want to admit it.”

  He shrugged, reaching to uncork a champagne bottle that was in an ice bucket by the couch.

  “We couldn’t be together, then. There was no point in dwelling on it.”

  “And we can’t be together now,” she replied, drawing her knees up to her chest. “I couldn’t do that to David.”

  “So you’re here to plead for the life of the town?” he said, eyes sparkling as he poured her a flute of champagne. She shook her head, taking it.

  “No. I’m not going to do that to you either. I’m not getting in the middle of this. I came here to see you.”

  “I’m glad you did,” he replied, watching her. After a moment, he sighed, leaning back. “How have you been, Gwen? I’ve been following your career with interest. You are doing well for yourself.”

  She nodded, taking a sip, the champagne sharp and deliciously cold against her tongue.

  “Yep. I just signed a yearlong contract on the West End, so I’ll be in London once this show is done. I’m going to be Meg Giry in Phantom of the Opera 2.”

  “2!” he exclaimed, smiling at her. “That’s new.”

  “Debut performance,” she grinned at him. He dipped his head, taking a sip of champagne, and then, to her alarm, chocking harshly on it. Since it was liquid, there was no need for the Heimlich maneuver, but it still took several thumps on the back before his airways cleared. As he attempted to regain control of his breath, he leaned against her, rolling up one sleeve that had gotten wet with his sudden movement. Placing an arm around him, she looked down and then gasped.

  “What’s happened to your arm?” she asked, alarmed as she saw the inside of elbow was bruised and discoloured, a small puncture wound at the centre of it. A million things went through her mind. She had seen drug use in the performance world, of course. Actors took them for a trip, dancers took them to stay thin, singers took them to give them endless energy. But Finn, despite his workaholic ways, had never turned to drugs. He looked down on those who did, the scum of society as he put it, preferring his mind alternating substances in the form of top shelf liquor.

  As quickly as she noticed it, he drew back, which made her realise how warm his body was against hers.

  “Are you alright?” she asked, concerned. For a moment, his eyes searched hers, looking for something she couldn’t figure out; searching for answers she didn’t have. And then, very carefully, he spoke.

  “Gwen, I swear I will make sure your name is never in lights again if you breathe a word about what I’m about to say to anyone. Do you understand me?”

  “Wha?” Her mouth fell open as she watched him stand, a bit shakily. “What are you talking about?”

  He took a sip of his champagne, or what remained of it, pacing a bit as he clearly considered the possibilities of what he wanted to say. Finally, he sighed, turning back to her.

  “It’s lung cancer. I found out about two months ago.”

  Gwen let out a string of swear words, frozen on her spot on the couch. When she was finished with the curses, she formed questions.

  “Why the hell are you still working? Is it treatable? Why would I tell anyone?”

  “
Baby, baby,” he smiled slightly, sitting down. “I’m working because I don’t know how to do anything else. I’ve told no one because… I’ve trusted no one. This life style doesn’t exactly lead to having close friends, and I don’t want them treating me like an invalid. Yes, I’ve started to go through radiation, but so far all it’s done is make me horribly ill.”

  Her heart broke at that, reaching to take his hands and then wrapping her arms around him, kissing him delicately.

  “You shouldn’t have to go through this alone,” she whispered, placing kisses up and down his neck. He made a noise, low in his throat, that she remembered was pleasure. And so she kissed him again, and again, her hands gently undoing the top button and loosening his tie. He responded by dropping his hands to her waist, exploring the body he once knew so well.

  “And who exactly is going to go through it with me?” he asked, his lips brushing her ear. “I make enemies everywhere I go, love. This is what I do, buying little towns and breaking dreams; putting mom n’pop stores out of business so I can have my hotels. I am not a good person, Gwen.”

  “I don’t believe that,” she said, pulling back to look at him. “And I really don’t care what the truth is. I know what you do, Finn, it doesn’t make a difference whether you’re doing it in David’s town or someone else’s. I know you, remember? I knew you then and I know you now.”

  He muted a cough by closing his mouth, and then opened it to speak again.

  “I don’t think you know the man I’ve become. On Broadway, babe, that was all smoke and mirrors. Nothing was wrong, we were still too new to each other. Everything was decadent and wonderful, and there was never any… mess. We lived a perfect life in a hotel that was cleaned twice daily, and we never saw the side of each other that was unpleasant.”

  “I know you,” she repeated, placing a hand on his heart, and going in to kiss him again. This time, she pressed him back a bit, until he reclined on the sofa. “I’ve always known you.” She was straddling him now, her heart bursting with love she didn’t know she felt as she undid the buttons on his shirt, one by one until she could pull it apart. He was thinner than he had been, but his stomach was still washboard flat, his abs still evident, even if his waist was small.

  She bent down, thanking her flexible body, and kissed his ear, sticking her tongue in it which made him groan. Gwen squirmed against his groin, already feeling his need rising as he placed his hands on her back, pulling her closer. With one hand, she reached between her legs and rose her hips enough to pull her lace underwear down, glad she chose tonight to wear a skirt. He responded by undoing his belt, hands frantic as their lips locked and tongues darted in and out of each other’s mouths.

  When he entered her, she was already slick with need, and both of them let out a moan. Gwen threw her head back and closed her eyes, getting lost in the pleasure as she rocked against him. Finn pulled at her hips, forcing himself deeper as he thrust, his own mind clouded with bliss. She pulled the dress over her head, revealing her nakedness to him, the same as he had known before. Her smooth skin and flat stomach showed years of care and performance.

  Finn had always thought she could be a model with her exotic looks, her dark hair long and loose and her almond shaped eyes always sparkling. But instead she had chosen performance, characters that were deep and well built, characters that begged artistic antiquity and thought. Gwen could have had an easy life as a beautiful woman, but she chose to work for her fame, auditioning against thousands of girls for months before her chance came.

  She cried out as she felt her orgasm hit; wave upon wave of pleasure crashing against her. He moaned, thrusting his hips one last time before spilling his seed into her, his body shuddering at the effort of it all. Her hands were pressing onto his chest with her full weight, her nails curled and leaving marks, but neither of them cared. Finally, she fell beside him on the couch, both of them panting as they caught their breaths.

  “We’re screwed,” she said, burying her face in his neck, a position that was once her favourite. “How can I keep looking at you, how can I help them with the protests and the fundraisers and know you like this?”

  “I thought you didn’t like thinking about the future,” he said, stroking her arm lightly. She sighed, snuggling closer.

  “Finn?”

  “Mmm?” he replied, sleep already taking him.

  “You’ll… you’re going to be alright, right? You’re not… going to die or something?”

  He hugged her tightly for a moment, his chest rising and falling several times before he answered.

  “How can I die when I just found you again? That’d be pretty foolish of me, wouldn’t it?”

  “Yep. We’re screwed,” she muttered, more to herself as the darkness of sleep began to take her.

  ***

  The next morning, she awoke in his hotel bed, to her beeping phone. Blearily, she rolled over, wondering when they had gotten up and moved to the bed. Rubbing her eyes, she opened the text message that had taken her from slumber.

  I assume you got some last night David had written. We’ve got new strategy to drive asshole out of town. Check this. He had sent a link, and she clicked on it, glancing to Finn as she waited for it to load. He was still asleep, on his stomach, his head turned towards her. In sleep, he was ten years younger, the constant weight of the world gone from his body as his arm wrapped around a pillow, likely mistaking it for hugging her. He coughed twice and she grimaced, reaching out to stroke his arm and then glancing back to her phone. It was hotelnews.com, a trade site that he had shown her once or twice when they were together.

  Hotel Tycoon Finn Derron diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. 6 months to live, at best. Derron Board of Directors questions their Chief’s ability to do job. read the headline. She nearly dropped her phone, letting out a noise of surprise. Beside her, he stirred, sitting up blearily.

  “Good morning love.”

  “Erm, maybe not. David just sent me this,” she handed over her phone, giving him a moment to stretch and yawn. He took it, attempting to focus on the small print in the early morning. But as soon as he did, his eyes wide-eyed and his face darkened.

  “What the hell!” He looked at her, his jaw set. “Did you…?”

  “Are you kidding me? It’s been about 6 hours since you’ve told me, 5 of those we spent sleeping, and you can check my call log and texts. I didn’t tell anyone,” she shook her head in disbelief. “You really think I would do that? How about we talk about the first part of the headline, though?”

  “It’s not true,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not even remotely close to true.”

  “Is it?” she asked, as he got up too fast and had to lean against the bed post. He glared at her, pushing himself up and heading for the shower.

  “Gwen, don’t.”

  “Jesus,” she shook her head as another text beeped through. Protest at noon in front of Bed and Breakfast. New Angle. He’s not fit to even consult on this town. As Finn turned on the shower, she hit reply, texting back frantically. Cancel protest. Have to talk to you. Meet me at Grill in two hours.

  Are you drunk??? Came David’s confused text. She didn’t answer, throwing off the sheets and going to find her clothes. Already, her mind was spinning with how this was going to work. She would need everyone’s help in the town, that was for sure. But most of all, she would need Finn.

  When he came out of the shower, towel wrapped around him, he seemed surprised that she was still there at all, let alone dressed and waiting for him.

  “You should go,“ he muttered, his voice twinged with exhaustion as he went to his suitcase. “I have an angry board of directors to deal with and you probably have another event to make them angrier.”

  “They have pictures of you coming out of a Los Angeles Hospital,” Gwen said, waving her phone at him. “That’s why the story leaked. When were you in LA?”

  “Last week,” he realized, speaking slowly. “Dear God. I am sorry.”

  “It�
�s fine,” she shrugged, scrolling through the pictures. “But really? Cedars-Sinai? You chose the most celebrity known hospital in the entire world? They practically employ paparazzi to stand at their door.”

  “I can’t avoid having chemo. Not even the very rich can be immortal,” he replied, coming to sit on the bed beside her, a smile on his lips. “You, my darling, you have the right idea. Whenever you want to sneak away and be unnoticed, you come here.”

  “I do,” she nodded. “When I sprained my ankle on stage, I spent 5 weeks here recovering and regaining strength , training in the community pool, rather than having paparazzi watch my every move outside the theatre and question my career. Mystic Falls is a good place to hide.”

  “Is it?” he asked, taking her hand. “Then perhaps if all this goes astray, I should come back here to die.”

  “Stop it!” she glared at him, even as the wheels turned. “Don’t talk like that. I have a better idea.”