Best Women's Erotica of the Year, Volume 1

by Rachel Kramer Bussel

  A few months back, he fell in love with the wall of our café. I could see why. It offered a huge, unblemished white brick wall for a canvas, and at night, the partial fence from the neighboring business offered the cover he would need to work in relative peace without getting caught. The perfect scenario, really.

  What Nic didn’t factor in when affixing a new masterpiece to our wall was my boss making me peel the stuff off every time. I felt bad for destroying something he’d obviously put a lot of work into. But I didn’t have a choice. The one time I’d left one of the pieces up all day, Brad flipped out, trying to yank it off with his bare hands when he came in for his shift. Since then, I was expected to take a putty knife to the posters as soon as humanly possible. That morning, with my hangover headache still throbbing and my shoulder aching from the last time I tore a poster down, I vowed if I ever ran into Nic, I’d kick his artistic ass.

  I gazed at the face peering out of the corner of the poster. It could have been any of a dozen guys who came into the coffee shop all the time. Hell, it could have been most of the guys in town. I’d long ago given up trying to figure out who Nic was. In my current foul mood, I decided that anyone who put his own face up all over town must be have been a raging narcissist. A very cute, raging narcissist.

  After dousing the poster with soapy water, I headed for the door to get my morning started, when I heard a voice.

  “So you’re the one who keeps taking down my stuff.”

  I spun around so fast it made me dizzy. In front of me, in the flesh, was Nic. My heart began to pound and not just because he scared me. His drawings didn’t do him justice. The only part of himself he got right was the glasses. He was way hotter than I expected, tall and lanky, with thick dark hair. The bucket handle nearly slipped from my fingers as I found my voice. I struggled to remember that I was pissed at the guy. I cleared my throat and made sure to put an edge of annoyance into my voice.

  “Boss’s orders.”

  He grinned and dropped his supplies to the concrete with a loud clatter. Clearly, I’d interrupted his latest project. God, two in one day. Nic really didn’t know when to quit.

  “Does that mean if it were up to you, you’d leave them up?” he asked with a smile.

  He clearly thought he was charming. I added a bit of extra sarcasm to my response.

  “Yeah, because that would be less work for me. Peeling this stuff from the wall has become half my job.”

  He shrugged, looking at the ground. Now he was trying to play coy. With his deep-brown puppy-dog eyes, Nic pulled it off with ease. His T-shirt clung to his torso, and I had a quick nasty thought about his soft-looking lips. Damn him. He was getting more aggravating by the second.

  “Sorry.”

  The word came out with a chuckle, his façade crumbling quickly. I balled my hand into a fist, my anger returning after being temporarily waylaid by his good looks.

  “I’m so sure. Anyway, if you’re planning on putting up another masterpiece, could you at least wait a few days? My nails are getting ruined from the wheat paste.”

  He moved closer and shocked me by grabbing my wrist. Nic pulled my hand close to his face. After examining my nails for a second, he dropped my hand with a smirk, the heat of his fingers still on my skin.

  “They look okay to me. Besides, if you use a metal scraper, that works better.”

  I pulled my trusty one out of my pocket and showed it to him. His last poster was still stuck to the blade.

  “I’ve found that to be true,” I said with a smile.

  He retreated a step, kicking at a loose rock on the ground.

  “So does that mean you’re not going to let me hang my new piece? They were supposed to be a set, but I forgot this one at home last night. I didn’t realize you’d get to this one so quickly.”

  He gestured toward the rolled up poster that sat on the ground next to his bucket. The one that was already on the wall had started to peel after its dowsing.

  “Look, I appreciate you wanting to complete your artistic vision and all that, but if I don’t take it down, my boss will give me a bunch of shit. And I’m really not in the mood for that.”

  Nic smiled, moving back into my space.

  “You could always tell him you did take it down and that I’m just so clever, I managed to put it back up again while you were busy inside.”

  His smile should have infuriated me, but it didn’t. It made me hot instead. I couldn’t resist flirting a little more.

  “You think you’re that clever, huh?”

  He nodded, inching us both closer to the wall. When my back hit the bricks, he leaned down and spoke right next to my ear.

  “I do.”

  “I’m sure,” I said with a smile.

  His hand rested on my shoulder, the pad of his thumb rough with paste and paper.

  “Or maybe there’s another way I could convince you to let me put up the poster.”

  I should have pushed him aside and gone into the café. But, I didn’t. I didn’t want to.

  “You really think you’re cute, don’t you? I mean, that’s why you put your picture on your posters.”

  He smirked at me, the smell of his cologne mixing with the coffee smell that was always on my clothes.

  “Oh, I don’t think I’m cute. But I’m pretty sure you do.”

  “I think you’re an arrogant prick who makes my life harder with his silly drawings.”

  He laughed, his lips hovering a few inches from mine.

  “Yeah, but you think I’m cute too, right?”

  Before I could answer, he kissed me, his whole body pressed to mine. When he pulled back, my eyes darted to the street. Only a few cars had trickled by as it was still far too early for rush hour, but our position was still too exposed for my liking. Grabbing a handful of his paste-splattered shirt, I dragged him toward the back of the building, giving us a bit more privacy. I was shocked when he spoke up.

  “Aren’t you afraid someone will see us?”

  I chuckled, yanking his T-shirt up so I could get a look at his body.

  “You’re not serious? Don’t tell me the famous Nic is afraid of getting caught?”

  His confidence returned quickly as he reached for the hem of my coffee-stained work shirt.

  “Getting caught for what we’re about to do is a little more serious than getting caught putting up a poster,” he said in a whisper.

  I grinned as I ran my hand down his chest, the dark hair there soft and silky. Using the fabric of his jeans to pull him close, I looked him dead in the eye.

  “Then we better not get caught.”

  “I think we can manage that.”

  He pushed me back against the wall, kissing me hard as his hands stole under my shirt. His nimble fingers teased me through the lace fabric of my bra, my nipples turning to tight peaks. Nic’s mouth dropped to my neck, my back arching away from the bricks at the feeling of it all. The silence of the morning was broken by the bark of a dog. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a beagle and his owner walk past. Nic didn’t even pause for a moment, his nerves clearly more honed than mine.

  Nic flicked open the front clasp of my bra with ease; the touch of his palms against my skin made me jump. When his thumbs strafed over my most sensitive flesh, I gasped and moaned. After another kiss, he whispered in my ear.

  “You might want to be a bit quieter.”

  I opened my mouth to give him a smart-assed reply, but I didn’t get the chance because he pulled my shirt up, the cool morning air hitting me right before the heat of his mouth did. My fingers twined through his hair as each sucking pull on my nipple turned my insides to mush. Try as I might to be quiet, it was too difficult to keep the sounds of pleasure from coming out of my mouth. He paused for a moment, long enough to look at me before resuming his torture of my hard nipples with his hands and mouth. I could do nothing but lean on the wall and let him do it, drawing me closer and closer to losing my mind. Then, he started sinking lower, his mouth kissing down my stom
ach until I was trembling under his lips. One of his hands went slowly up my thigh, moving under my skirt until he was inches from my panties.

  “Nic, we can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  His hand rubbed my leg, his eyes fixed on mine. A pair of joggers picked that moment to gambol by, the sound of their jingling keys mixing with the thudding of their feet.

  “Because we can’t.”

  He smirked as his touch eased closer to my pussy, but retreated quickly.

  “Now who’s afraid?” he asked with a chuckle.

  “I’m not scared. It’s just…”

  My words trailed off as the lightest pressure of his fingertip settled over my clit. I pushed my hips forward, trying to increase the pressure, but Nic backed off, keeping it the barest of touches. I tried to urge him on, let him know I wanted more. I wanted my panties off; I wanted his mouth on me. But he kept doing exactly the same thing, moving his finger in a tiny circle, the force just enough to drive me crazy.

  Finally, after he’d had enough fun, he hooked his fingers through the waistband of my panties, and pulled the flimsy fabric down slowly until my thong was gone. Nic didn’t go right for my now bare flesh. He stood up, kissing me deep. His long fingers dug into my hips, pulling me close. My hands cradled his face, as I tried to hold on to the moment for as long as I could. I brought my finger closer to his mouth, and he caught it between his lips, sucking it into the heat of his mouth. Nic then kissed down my neck, every inch of my skin alive from his touch.

  My skirt fluttered in the breeze as he slipped his hand under it, his touch finding my slick pussy lips. Our lips met as he slid over my clit, my hands clutching his shoulders for support. He went back to tracing small circles; this time the sensation was so intense, I started to shake. When he eased a finger inside me, I pulled my lips from his, gasping for air. His palm grazed my clit and I let my eyes flutter closed, ignoring the world that was going on all around us.

  “Look at me.”

  His voice was nearly a growl, making it impossible to disobey. When I blinked my lids open, I was met with his stare, intense and strong. Nic gave me a quick kiss before dropping to his knees in front of me. Nic eased my legs wider still and pushed my skirt aside. I gasped when his tongue squirmed over my clit for the first time, and grabbed a handful of his dark hair. Cars started to stream past the café at a steady rate, the sun finally rising over the horizon.

  I felt his finger slip inside me, then another. They moved in and out in a steady rhythm, my pussy clutching with each thrust. His tongue traced undetectable patterns over my clit, making it impossible to choke back my moans. Peals of laughter echoed off the building, but the last thing on my mind was getting caught. All I could focus on was the feeling of Nic’s mouth and hands. The tension in my body started building, my legs shaking, my back scratching and sliding against the brick wall. I eased my grip on his hair, but kept my hand in place, afraid to let go for fear of falling.

  When Nic sucked my clit between his lips, my composure melted away and I was coming, my pussy clenching tight around his long fingers. I wanted to scream out, but somehow managed to keep the sound to a low roar, my whole body shaking as the pleasure racked through me. Nic didn’t let up, wringing every last bit of ecstasy out of me, until I could barely stand. He stood as I struggled to catch my breath, my eyes hazy and blurry. I wasn’t expecting him to kiss me, but I was glad he did. As soon as my body would cooperate, I straightened up and rehooked my bra. Nic handed me my panties with a sly smile and even pretended to be engrossed by his bucket while I slipped them on.

  “Go ahead and finish the piece. I’ll let it stay until this afternoon. After that, well, I can’t make any promises. My boss will most likely tear it to shreds.”

  He chuckled and wrapped his arms around me.

  “It’s okay, I’m used to it.”

  He kissed me again, his lips sweet and tender.

  “When you’re done, you should come in and grab a latte or something. We don’t open for a while yet,” I said with a smirk.

  He picked up his poster and smiled.

  “Thanks, I will.”

  I waited, but Nic never came into the café. I walked outside, just before I was set to open to check out his new poster. But my attention was stolen by a piece of paper he’d pasted to the back of the door. Staring up from the corner of the page was a drawing of Nic, his eyebrows furrowed, a question mark in a bubble over his head. His phone number was scrawled in thick black letters. I smiled as I started to peel the paper away.

  Damn, he really was an arrogant prick.

  THE ROPES

  by Elise King

  A bald man waited at the baggage claim, holding a maroon and white sign with the Affinity logo. He found my name on his list, then he took my bag and directed me outside to a shuttle bus with its doors wide open. I had no idea what to expect. My boss had suggested I go into the training with an open mind, so I resisted my urge to do an internet search and find out exactly what it was about. All I knew was that my company required the Affinity training in order to be considered for any management position, and I had a good shot at the promotion I wanted once I got through this class.

  The people on the bus were at least ten years older than I was. One woman scowled, clearly sizing me up as I walked past her. I found a seat toward the middle and waited quietly until the driver returned.

  The drive was about an hour. Once we got out of Denver, we took a long, winding road up the side of a mountain. My ears popped as we drove farther and farther up the mountain. At last we reached a building that resembled an oversized log cabin. Stepping off the bus, I was struck by the cool air and the fresh scent of evergreen. Several people stood outside, all of them wearing the same maroon T-shirt as me. I joined the group just as a woman came out of the cabin and stomped toward us.

  “My name is Julie,” she shouted. “Welcome to Leadership Development. These next two days are going to be jam-packed, so let’s get started. Find a partner and introduce yourself.”

  I glanced around the group, but couldn’t make eye contact with anyone. I walked toward a younger woman who was standing by herself, but another man got there first. Alone in the middle of the group, I realized everyone had a partner but me.

  “Everyone have their partner?” Julie asked.

  “I don’t have one,” I said.

  “What?” She scanned the group, counting bodies, and ended with nineteen. “Somebody’s missing—” She looked angry for a moment and then shook her head. “We’re already behind schedule so I’ll be your partner.”

  I walked over to Julie and noticed she was shorter than me. But what she lacked in height, she made up for in muscle. Even her walk reminded me of the strut of a bodybuilder at the gym, moving from one machine to another. “This way,” she commanded, and we followed her around the cabin where there was a trail leading through the trees. At the end of the trail, my heart skipped—and then it started beating ferociously.

  In the clearing I saw an enormous structure. It was made mostly of wood with a few sections of rope. I had to squint away the afternoon sun to really see it. Most of it was probably thirty feet off the ground. Right above the first dizzying level, there was a higher one, maybe fifty feet up. There were a series of wooden perches, each separated by some type of apparatus made from wooden beams—or just ropes.

  Back in the third grade, Brianna Mulligan dared me to climb up the outside of the school jungle gym. I remember looking down from the poles just before I reached the top. Seeing how small the kids on the ground looked gave me a sick ache in the pit of my belly.

  I had that same feeling now.

  Julie thrust harnesses into our hands and demonstrated how to step into them and fasten them around our abdomens. My hands were shaking but I pulled the nylon straps through my legs and struggled with the buckle, making sure to do it just the way Julie did.

  “Okay, partner, let’s go up to the first level together to show everyone how it’s done.
”

  I started freaking out. Not only did I have to face my biggest fear, but I had to do it in front of a crowd of strangers. Mentally, I cursed my boss and his promises that this training would be transformative—even fun. I considered refusing, until I remembered how much I wanted to move up at work. My thirtieth birthday was a month away, and it was time to take charge of my career. I had to do this. Julie fastened another metal ring into my harness. Behind her, two guys held the ropes that were going to hoist us up to the structure.

  Julie was about to give the okay to start pulling, but she was interrupted by a late arrival. A man walked toward us. Even in the distance, I could see he was strong and moved with the grace of an athlete. He had joined the group before I could catch a glimpse of his face. When I did, I recognized him immediately.

  Ryan Brackett used to work in the same office as me before he took a job in our company’s San Francisco location. Not only was his body an impressive specimen of long, lean muscle, but his face was pure perfection. His smooth chocolate skin and deep-brown eyes made it impossible to speak when he looked at you. He’d been the topic of discussion many times at the bar among me and my female coworkers.

  Julie pointed at Ryan. “You’re with him now.” She motioned to the rope handlers who tugged, lifting her off the ground. My nerves were frazzled at the thought of partnering with Ryan—in addition to the terrifying climb I was about to do. I felt my knees wobble when I walked over to him.

  “Hi,” I stammered. “I guess we’re supposed to be partners.”

  “Hey, Sarah. How’ve you been?”

  Warmth spread through my chest. Not only did he recognize me, but he remembered my name. I turned my eyes back to Julie and watched her jump across a gap between two wooden planks. She executed the maneuver flawlessly and then tumbled backward. The rope handler held her weight, easing her to the ground.