First Frost

by A Lyrical Press Anthology

  "Are you good now?" I asked.

  "Yeah."

  "You sure? Because I forgot to bring bail."

  Seth smirked. He straightened my shirt and caught my chin in his hand. “Are you okay?” he asked, checking out my face.

  “Yeah, thanks,” I said.

  Mason and his wife were cooing at each other on the floor, and Honey and Fred waited for us by the entryway.

  Since we were clearly on our way out, and I figured I owed Seth, I kissed him solidly. “I appreciate it.”

  The look of pleased shock on Seth's face was priceless, and I nudged him toward the door. It may not seem like a big deal, but my reluctance to be open about our relationship, or own up to it in any kind of public way, had been a serious point of contention between us, and we’d nearly broken up over it.

  Out in the parking lot, Honey said, “You know, I was just kidding when I said Ruth called you troublemakers.”

  “I swear we don't try.”

  "I do," Seth said.

  I draped an arm across his shoulders and we walked with them until we had to split up to get to our respective cars.

  * * * *

  They invited us to the campfire, but Seth was quick to beg off, claiming to be tired and thinking of heading to bed. I didn't for one minute believe Seth was sleepy, but since the bed part was probably true, I didn't say anything.

  Once inside, he came over to me and tangled his fingers in my shirt to pull me in for a long slow kiss. I smiled against his lips and said, “Maybe it's this shirt. A lot of people have been yankin' me around with it today.”

  “You know how to solve the problem, don't you?” He made quick work of the buttons and pushed it off my shoulders.

  “It's cold in here,” I said. “Want to go to bed?”

  Seth shook his head. “Build a fire. I'll be right back.”

  He disappeared into the bedroom, so I went over and started piling logs in the hearth. I had a solid flame going by the time he came back with an armload of blankets off the bed and dumped them on the floor in front of the fireplace.

  “It's no bearskin rug,” he said, “but I figure it's close enough.”

  “Works for me.”

  I pushed the coffee table out of the way, and we spread the blankets around while the fire really got going. With the lights down low and soft music in the background, it was exactly what I'd been looking for all week. When I knelt down, Seth was waiting for me and he drew me into another long, sensual kiss. His fingers stroked the side of my face and curled around the back of my neck. This was a sweet, heady side of Seth I didn't get to see too often, and I relished those times when I did.

  He broke away and nuzzled my ear. “That was pretty cool, Dino. In the bar.”

  “Yeah, well,” I sat back and pulled him against me. “It shouldn't be so rare it earns me this kind of gratitude.”

  “Maybe not so much at home. But in a town we don't know, it's pretty gutsy.” He turned and pushed me down to the floor, kissing along my jaw line where Mason had hit me. “I know how you feel about that stuff, and you're not always wrong.”

  Maybe not, but I was plenty often and we both knew it. I slid my arms around him, threaded my fingers through his hair and kissed him with all the passion I couldn't usually express any other way. He moaned and clutched at my shoulders, returning the kiss in kind. I supposed it was the same with him. We teased and joked and bantered, and we touched each other a lot, but the fact that we loved each other largely went without saying.

  I had no idea how long we spent necking, locked in deep kisses, pausing only to push clothes out of the way or drag them off altogether. The fire had burned down low, but the room was still warm. Seth climbed over me and dipped his head to steal another hungry kiss, then settled down on top of me, fitting our bodies together in a way that had become second nature. As he moved, a shudder ran through me and I moaned. I drew my legs up and ran my hands down his back to his hips, needing to pull him closer and harder.

  “Oh my God, Dino,” he breathed as he rolled his hips slowly, again and again, driving us both wild with the slide of his cock on mine. His head hung down and he panted against my collarbone.

  I met him thrust for thrust, holding him tight against my chest and stomach. I wanted to feel every move he made, from the weight of his breath to the muscles in his arms as he held on. We kept moving, slow, but barely controlled, until we were both shaking, on the edge. I came first, gasping and letting my head fall back. My hands were tight on Seth's skin, and then he was coming, too, teeth clenched with the effort. Eventually, neither of us had any energy left to move, breath ragged and bodies limp. We fell asleep right there, until the room got too cold and we had to drag ourselves into the bedroom, bleary eyed. Seth put on gym pants and a sweatshirt, and we curled up together and went back to sleep.

  Chapter 4

  In the morning, we sat on the deck drinking coffee, which Seth agreed was tolerable if I made it sweet enough. We had slept in, but it was still chilly and holding a warm steaming mug was certainly better than a cold can. The close, mellow mood of the night before hung with us, making us stupidly romantic for a couple of guys dressed like longshoremen. We had our feet propped in the same chair so our legs touched, and the snark was at a minimum.

  We were debating the merits of cooking versus going to find a good diner for breakfast, when the crunch of tires in the driveway caught our attention. Rounding the front of the cabin, we saw a sheriff's car parked next to our rental, with the sheriff himself climbing out.

  “This is never good,” Seth said.

  “Morning, boys,” said the man, touching his hat. The hat and the jacket were the only part of the standard uniform he wore. The rest consisted of jeans, cowboy boots and a flannel shirt. His hair was white, with a moustache to match. He stepped up on the deck with us and offered his hand, “Sheriff Nygard.”

  I shook it and introduced us both. “What can we help you with?”

  “I understand you had a little trouble out at the bar last night.”

  “Ah, yeah, sorry about that,” I said. “We got out of there as quick as we could.”

  “Well, I wouldn't even trouble with it, except Derek Mason is making a stink.”

  “Oh, really?” Seth said, arching an eyebrow.

  I said, “Did Derek Mason happen to mention that he started it, and he threw the first punch?”

  “No.” The sheriff shook his head. “He didn't. But I got the story from half a dozen other people who were there.” He left a significant pause and I plastered on as innocent a face as I could muster. Then, he said, “I'm not here to bust your chops. I just want to ask you to keep away from Mason and tread lightly for the rest of your vacation.”

  “I can certainly try,” I said, “but it's not like I was looking to find either one of them yesterday.”

  Nygard grinned. “Did you hit on his wife like he said?”

  “I hit on his wife the exact same way I picked a fight with him in the bar,” I told him. “Which is to say I was minding my own damn business when she found me.”

  “It was sad,” Seth added.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “I thought as much. I'll keep that in mind if anything else comes up.”

  “Actually,” I said, “has anyone mentioned he's been attacking fishermen who get too close to his property?”

  “Attacking how?”

  Seth smirked. “He's lobbing rocks at people.”

  The sheriff sighed and scratched an eyebrow. “I guess I'll have a talk with him.”

  I asked, “How much do you know about Einar Wilcox, who used to live there?”

  “I knew Einar real well. Strange old goat, but an okay guy.”

  “We think they're trying to keep people away from there, because they're looking for money he might have hidden.”

  The sheriff's eyebrows shot up and he started to chuckle. “Are you talking about those rumors saying he robbed banks?”

  “Yup.” I nodded. “Ruth Fle
tcher was telling me about it yesterday.”

  “They're going to be pretty disappointed, I'm afraid. Einar was cleared of any suspicion in the matter at least sixty years ago. He claimed he was innocent the whole time, but no one believed him until they found documentation that proved he'd been working on the railroad like he said. People don't like to let go of a juicy story, though, so I guess it stuck.”

  Seth was grinning like an idiot. “You just totally made my day.”

  The sheriff laughed and added, “Come to think of it, Einar never did trust banks much after that whole mess. He wouldn't be the first person to stash the egg money under the floorboards, you know. Maybe they'll find something yet.” He stepped down off the deck. “You enjoy the rest of your time here. If Mason makes any more trouble, I'll set him straight.”

  “Thanks, sir,” I said. “We appreciate it. Have a good day.”

  * * * *

  That evening, well after dark, we sat on the dock sharing a beer, making out and generally behaving like teenagers.

  Seth took a drink and smirked. "Can you imagine Mason's face when he realizes they tore up that whole place for nothing?"

  "Who knows, maybe they'll get lucky and at least find some of Einar's savings."

  "It would be poetic justice if they found just enough to fix all the damage they've done,"

  "The sad thing is," I said, "that place was a small goldmine before they wrecked it. They probably could have sold it for a pretty decent chunk of change."

  After awhile, Seth flopped onto his back. “Have you checked out the stars? You can't see this where we live.”

  I lay down next to him, and stared into space. “Yeah, you're right,” I said. It seemed like I could reach out and touch them, they were so big and so close.

  “This has been a pretty good vacation,” he said after a while.

  “I think so.”

  “You want to go fishing tomorrow?”

  “On this side of the lake, yes.” I sat and turned so I could look at him. “I'm really glad we came up here.”

  “Yeah, me too.” He smiled and tugged at my shirt. When I bent down to kiss him, we both knew what it meant, even without saying.

  About Elle Parker

  Elle Parker writes the kind of books she likes to read, with realistic heroes, sharp dialog, and a healthy dose of humor. She works and lives in Northern Wisconsin with two teenagers, two cats and her husband, all of whom have been known to pitch in and help the writing process. Her greatest joy in life right now is a glass of wine and eight quiet minutes when she can escape the hectic pace and daydream about a calmer existence in the urban apartment she and her husband are working toward.

  Other Lyrical Press books by Elle:

  Like Coffee and Doughnuts: http://lyricalpress.com/like-coffee-and-doughnuts/

  Like Pizza and Beer: http://lyricalpress.com/like-pizza-and-beer/

  Three-Way Tie, A Neighborly Affection short

  Contemporary erotic ménage romance by M.Q. Barber

  Strong knots hold love fast.

  Henry gives his submissive lovers a day filled with the best kind of tension.

  Content warning: Contains explicit sexual material, including BDSM scenes suitable for adults only.

  Chapter 1

  Alice’s tingling shivers started as Henry twisted her hair up and clipped it to keep stray hairs from catching in his knotwork. Her body belonged to him. A fact. No longer something to fear but a truth she breathed in and a peace she breathed out. Whatever stress she carried in the outside world dissolved in the tender strength of his possession.

  “Hold still, please, Alice.” Henry grasped her shoulders and kissed her neck. Citrus and leather notes of his cologne floated around her in a heady mix. “If you wish to wear a harness today, you’ll stop squirming. Your excitement is driving me to distraction.”

  She stilled despite her urge to tease her skin with the winding jute and Henry’s body heat. Every pass of the rope bound her lust tighter. Brought the still-new illicit thrill closer. Out in public with no one knowing what lay under her clothes. “I do want to wear it.”

  Henry had practiced the basic ties for weeks as his fall project. Safety first, hers and Jay’s. Knots, arm cuffs and box ties probably filled Henry’s dreams. His intent focus never wavered as he claimed her with a simple upper-body harness design in rope he’d custom-dyed the deep green of his eyes.

  “It’s just you’re touching me, and the rope is soft and shurring.” The sound, the slow humming caress, snaked through her skull. Urged her to lean into Henry. Fuck, she needed a distraction, or she’d squirm again and disappoint him. “And Jay’s staring makes me eager to offer him something to slake his thirst.”

  Sprawled naked on the living room rug, Jay smacked his lips with a deep pop. His cock twitched, well on its way to half-hard. Impressive, given how often he’d emptied his balls in the last twelve hours. Hooray for Friday nights at home.

  “Jay drank his fill last night.” Satisfaction crept into Henry’s tone, warm and thick as his cock. The crisp cotton of his shirt rasped like steel striking flint, kindling fire in her ribs as he settled the rope beneath her bare breasts. “He’ll be fine without a breakfast treat.”

  Jay pouted. His sad, brown-eyed puppy face contradicted Henry’s assessment to perfection. Even his hair cooperated, cascading black strands slumping across his forehead.

  She curled forward in a giggle fit.

  Henry growled and tugged the rope, pulling her upright. His casual strength, his easy command, prickled her skin with anticipation. Jay’s bare chest rising and falling faster as he breathed deeper didn’t hurt, either. Smooth. Hard. A crunchy shell with Jay-sweetness underneath.

  “He’s a puppy.” Her kissy noises drew Jay’s gaze from her breasts to her face. Poor boy, waiting in oh-so-difficult silence when her roping claimed Henry’s focus. Affectionate teasing would remind him he was loved. And maybe slow the pulse in her clit that jumped with every brush of Henry’s fingers. “He’s never full. He’d eat the house down if you let him.”

  Jay snapped his teeth. His unceasing grin muted the effect. He’d always be the pup at Henry’s heels and proud of it.

  “And that’s why our boy has rules to protect him from overindulgence.” Henry finished off his wrap with a knot between her shoulder blades and embraced her. A comfort, but a safety check, too. Slipping two fingers under the edge of the binding, he issued a satisfied hum and nipped her neck. “He’d drink himself into a stupor at your honeyed lips and laze away the day at your feet if I allowed it.”

  Another day, perhaps. He didn’t say the words and neither did she, but she’d bet their thoughts aligned.

  Their slouching audience scrambled into a proper waiting pose, feet tucked beneath his ass, knees spread and back ruler-straight. Head bowed, he showed off the perfect markers of submission. Sexy brat.

  “Lazy? He’s as perky as my tits in this harness.”

  “Do you think so, my dear?” Yum. Henry’s spine-tingling, oh-so-casual tone deceived with honesty. “Does the jute lift and separate?” He traced the lines of six-millimeter rope crossing her shoulders in a path akin to a racerback bra. “Does it harden your nipples to points begging for attention?”

  No need to answer him, when said points dug into his palms. She’d wear the rope out of the house every day if he’d let her. Stress reduction. The HR department at work would love that.

  “Mmm, I see that it does.” He covered her between green cords running flat across her chest in dual rows. The rope hugged her better than any bra, and his hands warmed her inside and out. “However, we’ve things to accomplish today, and if we do not succeed, our dinner party will be missing several crucial elements.”

  Right, the dinner party she’d instigated with her insistence on matchmaking. Funny, how little the idea mattered to her while Henry rubbed circles around her nipples with his thumbs. Staying in today might be worth canceling the holiday dinner, except the family substitute would be
good for Jay too. His emotional needs mattered more than her momentary desire for a quick fuck.

  “Better get going, then.” She’d burst like an overripe fruit if Henry didn’t stop touching her. Talented hands, a voice to die for and a mind set on making her wait all the damn time gave him near-complete control over her body. Bliss. Torment and bliss. “We can’t have a less than perfect dinner party. I’ll be devastated if Emma sees a water spot on my lovingly polished silverware.”

  Snickering, Jay tipped until his forehead touched the rug. He mumbled something about polishing and smart asses.

  “Bring me Alice’s underwear, please, my boy.” Henry tweaked her nipples, and she yelped. She might’ve overdone the sarcasm about the silverware. Or he might be enjoying a last chance to play before he took them out for hours of shopping. Hard to tell with Henry. “It’s time to dress for the rest of our day.”

  Jay craned his head around and tumbled onto all fours, stretching for the pile of her clothes on the couch. Fuck, his ass cried out for hands on it. Round and muscled and wiggling as he teased, because he sure as hell knew how to work his charms. She rolled her shoulders back and breathed deep to relish the constriction, the lift in her breasts and the rope hugging her skin.

  Henry slid his hands along her arms on the way to her hips and squeezed. “Yes, he’s shamefully showing off in an attempt to earn an enjoyable reprimand, isn’t he? My poor smart-mouthed girl, tormented by her playmate.” He danced his fingers down the crease in her thigh to the hooded flesh hiding thumping pleasure. He pressed, and she jumped at the electrical shocks completing the circuit through her nervous system.

  “Henry…”

  “I said Jay didn’t need a breakfast treat, Alice. I did not say I did not.” Running his finger between her legs, he parted her lips and rubbed much too gently to set her off. Slow, steady strokes dipping deeper and, fuck, inside, curving and—