Stripping Her Gears

by Kelly, Sahara

  She felt his fear, like a dart to her heart. This wasn't how she wanted him. This wasn't how she wanted them to be with each other.

  He'd been wrong--but so had she. Perhaps this little trial-by-fire was what they both needed. As she stared at him, reminding herself again of how this man affected her, she felt all her shattered pieces come together into a whole.

  She reached for him this time, catching his hand in hers and bringing it to her face. She rubbed against it and then kissed his palm.

  "I forgive you Jack. I hope you can forgive me."

  Jack's eyes widened, gold-green in the afternoon sunlight. "Cora."

  It was all he said before he pulled her against him and kissed her, the first gentle touch of his lips turning to fire within seconds.

  They ate at each other's mouths, hungry for the taste, the sensation they'd both missed. It was as exciting as Cora had remembered, even more so when seasoned with three weeks of abstinence.

  Hoots and whistles from a bunch of teenagers recalled them both and they drew apart with identical grins.

  "Jesus. Get a room." One kid smirked at them, mouthing off in front of his friends.

  Jack looked at Cora. "He's got a good idea. We've got a lot of talking to do." He put his arm around her as they began to walk. "Among other things."

  She leaned her head on his shoulder. "Well, I have a room. A small condo, actually. Two blocks down, if you'd like to visit. We could talk." She chuckled. "Among other things..."

  About The Author

  Sahara Kelly is always happy to explain to editors that her spelling errors aren't really errors, since she was born and raised in England, where an extra "u" is quite in order. She likes to think it adds colour to her writing. Sadly, it's not a widely held belief, so she'd like you to know she still retains a lot from her English childhood even though you won't see much of it in her stories.

  Arriving in America with her almost-complete collection of Leslie Charteris' Saint novels, Sahara's new life eventually expanded to include a husband, offspring, and a certain amount of acclimation to her new surroundings. (She still cherishes that extra "u", though!) Life in New England became complete with the publication of her first novel just after the birth of her son, and over two decades later she's still writing.

  This is the second in a series of stand-alone self-published stories and she's looking forward to many more. Being freed of any restraints has opened doors--not just for Sahara but also for many of her writing colleagues. She believes it has widened the range of books available to readers and is a win-win situation for everyone.

  To find out more about Sahara and her writing, please drop by her website at

  www.saharakelly.com

  She has quite a few ebooks available from various publishers. There are also some older releases that she has edited and re-issued at a greatly reduced price. To find these books, simply Sahara's page here at Smashwords.

  Any books with the "An SK Private Label Story" logo line on the cover are original works not published elsewhere.

  Available now from Smashwords:

  Letting Off Steam

  by Sahara Kelly

  An SK Private Label Story

  Excerpt

  "What the hell is Steampunk, anyway?" Olivia Hayden squinted at the invitation as she held it to the desk lamp. "Is this a plumbers' ball or something?"

  Her friend sighed. "Sweetie, where have you been for the last few years?"

  "Not paying attention, obviously."

  "Okay. Listen up." Cora rested her elbows on the low partition surrounding Olivia's cubicle. "Steampunk is a celebration of the past...Victorian stuff. Lots of embellishments, fancy decorative styles, frills, flounces and feathers." She stared at Olivia. "You with me so far?"

  Livvy nodded. "Victorian feathers. Gotcha."

  "Then you toss in the futuristic element. Machines. Not butt-ugly Zamboni type machines, of course."

  "Of course not." Livvy shook her head at the mention of the rink-smoothing monstrosity so beloved of ice hockey fans everywhere, but most especially in Boston.

  "Steampunk machines gleam. They shine. They open a door into a future that we never imagined. They move; they clatter rhythmically. They puff out woofs of steam now and again, enhance life, enchant everyone who sees them--"

  "Kind of like a new sports car?"

  Cora frowned and waved the comment aside. "Mundane stuff. No, Steampunk machines are imaginary and beautiful. They herald a Victorian view of what lies ahead which embraces all possibilities."

  "Ah."

  "And they can, human nature being what it is, destroy as well."

  "Hmm. Is there a death ray in my future?"

  Cora glared over her crossed arms. "Yes, if you keep making snarky comments."

  "Sorry."

  "This is the world of mad scientists, corsets, flying dirigibles and searingly hot sex."

  "Aha." Livvy grinned. "Now we're getting to the nitty gritty. I knew that had to be in there somewhere."

  "What's wrong with hot sex?" Cora tilted her head questioningly to one side.

  "Not a damn thing." Livvy chuckled. "I assume you're talking about having it with another human being?"

  Rolling her eyes, the other woman straightened. "You need to get out more. Battery operated devices are no substitute for the skilled touch of a lover."

  "Yeah well...find me a skilled lover and I'll consider letting him touch me. But I want to see a signed affidavit first." Livvy put the card down on her desk and leaned back in her chair. "You and I both know I've pretty much struck out in that department."

  "Doesn't mean you have to give up." Cora flashed back her response with a challenging lift of her chin.

  "And you think this Steam thing is going to provide the impossible? A guy who actually knows his way around a woman's erogenous zones without a roadmap, a GPS system and a compass? Not to mention a handbook written by an expert sex therapist and a hot romance novel tucked in his pockets just for additional tips?"

  "Would it kill you to come with me and find out?"

  Buy this story now at Smashwords.