“You may,” I said with a giggle as I traced his dimples with my finger. “I didn’t know I could be this happy.”
“Me neither,” Keith said with a grin as his lips found my neck and my body shuddered with delight. “How do you feel about the name Jason Momoa?”
“For a dog?” I asked, arching my back and telling him with my body how much I desired him.
“Umm… no,” he said, kissing my neck and making me see stars.
“For you?” I gasped as his teeth nipped at my sensitive skin. “I love the name Keith. Why would you change it?”
“Not for me,” he said.
His breathing became ragged as I slipped my hand between our bodies and gripped his pride and joy in my hand.
“For who?” I asked as I watched his blue eyes darken with need.
His expression alone almost made me orgasm. I couldn’t believe I had the energy. He’d already given me six and I was still ready for more.
“For our son,” he said with a lopsided grin that made my heart skip three beats. “Or if that doesn’t work for you, we could always name him Aquaman.”
“What if he’s a girl?” I asked with a giggle.
“We’ll call her Ariel Joan,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to mine and smiling. “I want her to have the most beautiful, strongest name in the Universe. I want a tiny blue-haired Mermaid that looks just like her mama.”
I swiped at the tears now rolling down my cheeks. “Our little girl might be a Selkie… or a Merkie.”
“As long she looks like you, I don’t care what she is,” he said as his lips and teeth went back to work.
I closed my eyes and riotous color ripped across my vision. This foul mouthed, slightly immature, triumphant warrior and healer of sea creatures was my destiny. He was my dream—my true love. Who knew I would get so lucky?
“We can name our son Jason Aquaman Keith Momoa,” I cried out as his body joined mine and all was right with the world.
“We can?” he asked.
Keith’s body stilled and he looked as excited as a child on Christmas morning.
“Yep. You better get moving, Selkie. I want my tiny Merkie soon.”
“My pleasure. I love you, little Mermaid,” he said hoarsely as his body began to move with an urgency that made me moan. “I love you. My Johnson loves you. And wait till my parents meet you. They’re gonna love you too—that is if we can ever find the deserters again.”
“Hold that thought, baby,” I said as I flipped my Selkie over and got on top. “I have a surprise for you.”
“Now?” he asked as his eyes hooded with a desire so sexy, little mini orgasms shot through my body making my girlie bits very happy.
“Nope, I’d like to finish what we started here. You cool with that?” I asked as I began to move.
“I am so good with that,” he said grabbing my hips and guiding me to heights I didn’t know existed. “So, so, so, so good.”
And he was.
And we were.
And we practiced making a little Merkie ten more times.
I just prayed to Poseidon I’d be able to walk, but I really didn’t care. My Selkie was definitely correct.
His Johnson was fabulous.
* * *
“What if your sisters don’t like me?” Keith asked as I dragged him across the beach to the waiting crowd of my friends and family.
“They will love you because I do,” I promised.
It was twilight, both Keith’s and my favorite time of the day. A vegetarian luncheon had been planned, but we kind of missed it with all the work we had to do making a little Merkie…
But an early evening party to introduce my true love was every kind of perfect.
Torches lit the area and long weathered teak tables groaned under the weight of the delicious meat and seafood free buffet. Clearly Kate had talked to my sisters about her sons having been diagnosed as vegetarians. I was joining my man. After swimming with Don Guido as Pirate Chronos’ ship made its way to the Mystical Isle, I wasn’t too keen on eating seafood anymore either. Of course, I couldn’t talk to Don Guido like Keith and Kurt could but he was adorable and he gave me a beautiful set of pearls.
Apparently Don Guido had been kicked out of the house by his fifth wife Stella and was lobster non gratia with the mistress Carmella. Keith asked if it was okay if Don Guido lived with us for a bit while he got his manwhore tendencies under control. I said fine. There were some super cute lobster gals living near the Mystical Isle and I was sure Don Guido would make an excellent comeback.
We’d made plans to live on both Paradise Island and the Mystical Isle with adventures galore planned for the foreseeable future. My life was turning out to be pretty awesome. Of course laundry and cooking lessons were on the agenda too. And bizarrely enough my Selkie wanted to learn to sew…
“I could always reveal my Johnson. It’s very impressive,” Keith said, thinking aloud.
“Umm… no. Bad idea,” I said, biting back a groan. I’d clearly complimented his Johnson far too many times if he thought whipping it out in front of my family was a great plan. “Keep your pecker in your pants.”
“Will do. Wait a minute. Am I seeing things?” he demanded, coming to an abrupt halt in the sand.
“What do you see?” I asked.
“What do you see?” he shot back.
“Umm… well I see Pirate Chronos flirting with a seriously stinky and very happy Sea Hag named Bony Velma Dustface,” I told him.
“No, not that,” Keith said, squinting his eyes at the crowd.
“Okay,” I said, trying not to laugh. “I see Kurt in all his glory with a couple of colorful swimming hookers from the island next to ours.”
“No,” Keith said. “Not that, but I’m happy about that one.”
His body leaned forward, but his feet didn’t move. “What else?”
“I see my sisters, Tallulah, Misty and Madison. I see the arses, Thornycraft, Upton and Bonar.”
“Which one is Pirate Doug?” Keith asked forgetting for a moment at what he’d been fixated on.
“The one in the very dated blue breeches, knee high boots and frightening puffy shirt,” I said with a laugh. “He’s with Tallulah—the gorgeous one with the purple hair.”
Keith turned to me and planted a kiss on my lips that made my toes curl. “No one in the world is more gorgeous than you are,” he whispered. “Do you mind if I punch Pirate Doug? The motherfucker caused me a lot of angst. I just think it will be better in the long run if I can deck him first and then get acquainted later.”
“No problem,” I said, grinning. “Lots of people want to punch Pirate Doug. He’s used to it. Is there someone else you see?”
Keith nodded slowly. “Did you know they were here?”
“I did. But I promised your mom that I wouldn’t tell.”
“Figures. They’re not too fond of me.”
“Kate’s the one who told me about the seven tear drops legend. I think she knew we were meant to be before we did,” I told him, squeezing his hand. “She loves you. Your parents just wanted you to grow up. I’ll bet they’re really proud of you now. I am.”
“You don’t know my parents,” he muttered.
“No, but I know you, and if they’re not proud of you and your brother, I will zap their asses and kick them off the island,” I told him.
“You would do that for me?” he asked, running his thumb gently over my kiss swollen lips.
“I would do anything for you. You’re my true love.”
His smile made me breathless and his love made me whole.
“Here’s the plan… It will take approximately fifteen minutes,” Keith said with a spicy little grin pulling at his lips. “I punch Doug in the head—one minute. We say hello to your sisters—three minutes. I make my parents feel really guilty for eight minutes and then I forgive them. I wrestle Kurt and kick his ass for two minutes. We say hello to the clean freak Pirate and his strange gal pal for one minute at a good dista
nce. I can smell her from here.”
“And then what?” I asked, laughing.
“Then we grab some food and go back to our room. We watch Sharknado and boink the rest of the night—or week away.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I said.
“A good one?” he asked with a raised brow and a sexy smirk.
“A perfect one,” I said as I copped a quick feel of his rock hard ass. “A perfect end to a perfect day.”
Oh, I knew everything wouldn’t always be seashells and sunshine, but with Keith at my side it would always be an adventure. My Prince Charming with the potty mouth was my idea of heaven on earth. Living for eternity didn’t seem so bleak now.
Pirate Chronos was right. Well, not about Waterworld, but about love.
The only thing that made the day worth living was love.
And I finally had mine.
— The End (for now) —
Note From The Author
Hi. I hope you enjoyed reading Ariel’s Antics. If you enjoyed this ebook, please consider leaving a positive review or rating on the site where you purchased it. Reader reviews help my books continue to be valued by resellers and help new readers make decisions about reading them. You are the reason I write these stories and I sincerely appreciate each of you!
Many thanks for your support,
~ Robyn Peterman
Want to hear about my new releases?
Sign-up for my newsletter to be notified about the release date.
Excerpt: Fashionably Dead
The Hot Damned, Book 1
Click Here For More Info!
Book Description
Vampyres don’t exist. They absolutely do not exist.
At least I didn’t think they did ‘til I tried to quit smoking and ended up Undead. Who in the hell did I screw over in a former life that my getting healthy equates with dead?
Now I’m a Vampyre. Yes, we exist whether we want to or not. However, I have to admit, the perks aren’t bad. My girls no longer jiggle, my ass is higher than a kite and the latest Prada keeps finding its way to my wardrobe. On the downside, I’m stuck with an obscenely profane Guardian Angel who looks like Oprah and a Fairy Fighting Coach who’s teaching me to annihilate like the Terminator.
To complicate matters, my libido has increased to Vampyric proportions and my attraction to a hotter than Satan’s underpants killer rogue Vampyre is not only dangerous . . . it’s possibly deadly. For real dead. Permanent death isn’t on my agenda. Avoiding him is my only option. Of course, since he thinks I’m his, it’s easier said than done. Like THAT’S not enough to deal with, all the other Vampyres think I’m some sort of Chosen One.
Holy Hell, if I’m in charge of saving an entire race of blood suckers, the Undead are in for one hell of a ride.
Prologue
I drew hard on the cigarette and narrowed my eyes at the landscape before me. Graves, tombstones, crypts... she didn’t belong here. Hell, I didn’t belong here. My eyes were dry. I’d cried so much there was nothing left. I exhaled and watched as the blue grey smoke wafted out over the plastic flowers decorating the headstones.
Five minutes. I just needed five minutes and then I could go back...
“That’s really gross,” Gemma said, as she rounded the corner of the mausoleum I was hiding behind and scared the hell out of me. She fanned the smoke away and eyed me. “She wanted you to quit, maybe now would be a good time.”
“Agreed. It’s totally gross and disgusting and I’m going to quit, regardless of the fact that other than you, Marlboro Lights are my best friend... but today is definitely not the day,” I sighed and took another long drag.
“That’s pathetic,” she chuckled.
“Correct. Do you have perfume and gum?”
“Yep.” She dug through her purse and handed me a delicate bottle.
“I can’t use this. It’s the expensive French shit.”
“Go for it,” she grinned. “You’re gonna need it. You smell like an ashtray and your mother is inside scaring people to death.”
“Son of a... ” I moaned and quickly spritzed myself. “I thought she left. She didn’t want to come in the first place.”
“Could have fooled me,” Gemma said sarcastically, handing over a piece of gum and shoving me from my hiding place.
“Come on,” I muttered, as my bossy best friend pushed me back to my beloved grandmother’s funeral.
* * *
The hall was filled with people. Foldout tables lined the walls and groaned under the weight of casseroles, cakes and cookies. Men and women, most of whom I knew, milled around and ate while they gossiped. Southern funerals were a time to socialize and eat. A lot.
As I made my way through the crowd and accepted condolences, I got an earful of information I could have happily lived without. I learned that Donna Madden was cheating on her husband Greg, Candy Pucker had gained thirty pounds from eating Girl Scout cookies and had shoved her fat ass into a heinous sequined gown, for the funeral no less, and Sam Boomaster, the Mayor, was now a homosexual. Hell, I just wanted to leave, but I had to find my mother before she did something awful.
“I loved her.” Charlie stopped me in my tracks and grabbed my hand in his old gnarled one.
His toupee was angled to the left and his black socks and sandals peeked out from his high-water plaid pants. He was beautiful.
“Me too,” I smiled.
“You know I tried to court her back in the day, but she only had eyes for your Grandpa.” He smoothed his sweater vest and laid a wet one on my cheek... and if I’m not mistaken, and I’m not, he grabbed my ass.
“Charlie, if you touch my butt again, I’ll remove your hand.” I grinned and adjusted his toupee. He was a regular in the art class I taught at the senior center and his wandering hands were infamous.
“Can’t blame a guy for trying. You have a nice ass there, Astrid! You look like one of them there supermodels! Gonna make some lucky man very happy one day,” he explained seriously.
“With my ass?”
“Well now, your bosom is nothing to scoff at either and your legs... ” he started.
“Charlie, I’m gonna cut you off before you wax poetic about things that will get you arrested for indecency.”
“Good thinking, girlie!” he laughed. “If you ever want to hear stories about your Nana from when we were young, I’d be happy to share.”
“Thanks, Charlie, I’d like that.”
I gave him a squeeze, holding his hands firmly to his sides and made my way back into the fray.
As I scanned the crowd for my mother, my stomach clenched. After everything I had to put up with today, the evil approaching was just too much. Martha and Jane, the ancient matriarchs of the town and the nastiest gossips that ever lived were headed straight for me. Fuck.
“I suppose you’ll get an inheritance,” Jane snapped as she looked me up and down. “You’ll run through it like water.”
“Your Nana, God bless her, was blind as a bat when it came to you,” Martha added caustically. “I mean, my God, what are you? Thirty and unmarried? It’s just downright disrespectable.”
“I’m twenty-nine, happily single and getting it on a regular basis,” I said, enjoying the way their thin lips hung open in an impressive O.
“Well, I’ve never,” Jane gasped.
“Clearly. You should try it sometime. I understand Mr. Smith is so vision impaired, you might have a shot there.”
Their appalled shrieks were music to my ears and I quickly made my escape. Nana would have been a bit disappointed with my behavior, but she was gone.
Time to find the reason I came back in here for... I smelled her before I saw her. A waft of Chanel perfume made the lead ball in my stomach grow heavier. I took a deep breath, straightened my very vintage Prada sheath that I paid too much for, plastered a smile on my face, said a quick prayer and went in to the battle.
“Mother, is everything alright?”
She stood there mutely and stared. She w
as dressed to the nines. She didn’t belong here... in this town, in this state, in my life.
“I’m sorry, are you speaking to me?” she asked. Shit, she was perfect... on the outside. Gorgeous and put together to a degree I didn’t even aspire to. On the inside she was a snake.
“Um, yes. I asked you if... ” I stammered.
“I heard you,” she countered smoothly. “If you can’t bother to comply with my wishes, I can’t be bothered to answer you.”
“Right,” I muttered and wished the floor would open and swallow me. “I’m sorry, I meant Petra. Petra, is everything alright?”
“No, everything is not alright,” she hissed. “I have a plane to catch and I have no more time or patience to make chit chat with backward rednecks. It was wrong of you to ask me to be here.”
“Your mother died,” I said flatly. “This is her funeral and these people are here to pay their respects.”
“Oh for God’s sake, she was old and lived well past her time.”
I was speechless. Rare for me, but if anyone was capable of shocking me to silence, it was my mother.
“So, like I said, I have a plane to catch. I’ll be back next week.” She eyed me critically, grimacing at what she saw. “You need some lipstick. You’re lucky you got blessed with good genes because you certainly don’t do anything to help.”
With that loving little nugget, she turned on her stiletto heel and left. I glanced around to see if we’d been overheard and was mortified to see we had clearly been the center of attention.
“Jesus, she’s mean,” Gemma said, pulling me away from prying eyes and big ears.
“Do I look awful?” I whispered, feeling the heat crawl up my neck as the mourners looked on with pity. Not for my loss, but for my parentage.
Ariel’s Antics: Sea Shenanigans, Book 2 Page 14