Passion

by Rachel Kramer Bussel

  “Naturally.” Laughter was on his lips, ready to cascade.

  “There were cases filled with junk and antique jewelry. I saw the mellow gold glint of a saxophone on the wall. There were books and occult items stacked haphazardly everywhere. At first, I thought that I was alone, but a tiny, ancient Asian woman stood at the back of the store, smoking from a long, thin white pipe. The place was so quiet that I could hear the shuffle of her bound feet across the wooden floor.”

  Carl’s eyes glinted.

  “Anyway, long story short, the old lady sold me this candle. She promised that it was good for one birthday wish.”

  “Did she mutter any ominous warnings?”

  “You’d think so, but no.” I found matches and lit the candle. “So, make your wish.” I sat primly beside him, offering it up to him with both hands.

  He didn’t take more than a few seconds before he started forward, lips puckered.

  “Wait! Put some thought into it. This is a guaranteed wish.”

  As he leaned over a second time, I pulled it away so quickly that the flame died. The wick was an orange-hot ember before it leapt to life again.

  “What?”

  “I meant to remind you of something.”

  Carl was losing his patience.

  “Black.” A smile quirked up on the side of my mouth. “Lace.”

  “French knickers,” Carl intoned as quietly as a penitent. He tugged at his pants.

  A waiter in a tuxedo vest came to get bar orders from us. I sent him away.

  Carl squirmed. “What were those emails about anyway?”

  “Wax is dripping on your cake, dear. Make your wish.” I offered it to him again.

  He caught my wrist before blowing. The flame died for about seven seconds before the trick candle relit.

  “Hey! What happened to my wish?”

  I set the cupcake down on the small table in front of the couch. “You don’t need any more things. We have a house full of crap.”

  He pretended to scowl. “I suppose a refund is out of the question.”

  “Bear with me. I made a real wish on my birthday candles last month. I don’t know if you remember, but I was able to blow out all forty with one breath. That got me thinking about wishes, and us, and me.”

  “I see. You get a wish and I don’t.”

  I knew he didn’t really care.

  The frosting’s sweet scent was too strong. I pulled out the candle and snapped the lid shut.

  “Up until now, I’ve been the kind of person my parents expected me to be. Frankly, I’m sick of it. I don’t want to be a good girl; I don’t want to be responsible all the time. I hate being so much like everyone else that I can hardly recognize me anymore. So I’ve decided to take control of the second half of my life. From now on, I’m going to be as sexy as I want to be.”

  “You are sexy.”

  “And you’re a god, Carl. The perfect husband. My best friend.” I put my hand on his thigh. “And you’re hot. I wanna fuck you. Here, now, in the middle of the day, with the lights on and the curtains open. I want to be your nasty girl.”

  He watched my hand crawl up his leg like it was a tarantula. The thin wool was smooth under my fingertips. Carl blushed, but his face wasn’t the only place his blood raced. I could see the outline of his dick. I scooted closer to him so that our thighs touched.

  “The thing about those black lace French knickers? I’m not wearing them. In fact, I’m not wearing any panties. The only thing between my bare ass and this couch is my skirt.”

  Admitting that got me hot. I pressed my legs together and felt squishy. Talking dirty to him in hushed tones in the hotel lobby was just about the level of naughty I could handle. It worked though. Lord, but it worked. Everything between my legs tingled.

  “I was thinking about our marriage vows, honey. I promised to forsake all others, but I don’t. I put my job first, music, our daughter, a million other things. So, this is my present to you. From now on, you come first. I’m going to remember every wonderful thing about you and appreciate it the same way I’d savor a piece of dark chocolate slowly melting on my tongue.”

  He pinched his nose as if to hold back a tear.

  I took his hand. “We’re already checked into a room. Come upstairs with me, honey. Let me make love to you.”

  We shared the elevator with faded men in suits. The poor dears looked as if all the joy in life had been sucked out of them long ago. That wasn’t going to happen to us.

  I slowly goosed Carl and kept my hand on his ass until we got out at our floor.

  Carl let the flow take him. He didn’t ask what came next. This was another thing to love about him—how much he trusted me.

  The room was pleasantly warm. Earlier, I folded down the bedspread so that the tan velour blanket underneath would be against our skin. The local jazz station played something bluesy on the portable I brought from home.

  I closed the door and went into action. A seductive walk would have been awkward, but I knew how to use my voice. While I loosened his tie, I growled close to his ear, “I think it’s so hot that you still treat me like a lady, even though you know better.” I trailed my fingers down his chest.

  He stared at my hands as I tugged his belt out of the loops. It was some powerful magic, the unexpected mixed with the familiar. He was already hard.

  “Saturday mornings, you could be out golfing or watching football, but you coach Jenny’s teams instead. I can’t tell you how very, very sexy a man is when he’s being a dad.”

  Carl’s mouth opened as I pushed him gently to the bed. I hadn’t seen that look on his face in years. It amazed me that no matter how many times we knocked it out, he still had a sense of wonder about sex.

  You make it spiritual, Carl. You keep sex sacred. Every time you look at my bare breasts or rounded butt, your eyes show such reverence for me that I can’t think of myself as undesirable. You make me sexy.

  “From now on, every time I think warm thoughts about you, and I get turned on, I’m going to let you know. You don’t mind, do you, honey?” I crooned. My fingers traced his warm skin.

  He shook his head slowly. Maybe it was too radical of a change for him. I never initiated anything. We had our codes, though. If I came to bed naked, he knew I wouldn’t turn him down. But I never pounced on him. After sixteen years, I figured that he wouldn’t mind if I made the first move.

  Hiking up my skirt, I straddled his legs. My lips pressed against the pulse at his neck. “I was thinking about last night. I’d like that, but with more kissing.” I let him feel the edge of my teeth.

  “You think about sex the next day?” He was shocked.

  “Yes. I do.” How could I have hid that from him for so long? “Sometimes it makes me wet all over again.”

  Carl had always liked kissing, much more than I did. I brushed my lips over his and pressed closer. We were going to kiss as long as he wanted.

  He got out from under me and knelt on the bed to come down at my mouth. His hands cupped my face. My hands slid under his shirt, feeling his labored breath, his hard-on, the way he abandoned himself to my game.

  Carl tasted sweet and dark, like coffee.

  I couldn’t remember the last time we’d kissed like that. We treated our kisses with such casual disregard that they’d become sexless things, as sparse as our words. We knew each other so well that it seemed everything was distilled into staccato communication, but I wanted to slow things down. No pizzicato plucking at him like his body was a string on a violin. Nope. He deserved the long draw of the bow caressing his body so that after my touch was gone, he would still vibrate.

  My thighs were wet. The scent of sex rose in the heat between our bodies. I wanted to peel away my good girl clothes and play the vixen with him, but everything was too perfect. Afraid that I’d break the spell binding us, I let him lead.

  Carl lingered on my mouth. He pressed hard against my lips, as if he’d been starved for too long.

  The outline of
his dick showed against his pants. I rubbed my thumbnail over the head. Unzipping his fly, I groped his balls.

  You’re so turned on, Carl. Did you ever dream I’d do this with you? Did you want it, but were too afraid to share your fantasies? You can’t disgust me. Don’t be afraid to be a little rough, a little cruel, because I’ll know that your heart isn’t in it. I’ll play any game you want. I’ll make any wish come true.

  “Baby,” he breathed against my mouth.

  I stroked his hard-on as my clit ached for attention. Shoving up my skirt, I fingered myself. I was swollen for him, ready to burst in a gush of hot, sweet juices.

  I put his hand between my legs.

  “This is what you do to me.”

  “You’ve got me really turned on, too,” he admitted.

  I moaned as his long fingers slid inside me. He knew exactly where to touch me. His fingers fucked me while his thumb worked over my clit. It was a well-practiced move and it always worked.

  I stroked him through his underwear. The white cotton strained. Finding that special spot below the head, I pressed my thumb against his cock while I slowly squeezed his balls. They were hot in my hand, heavy.

  “No,” Carl pleaded. He pulled his hips back from me, but I grabbed his cock and pumped. “I can’t—” A shudder ran through his body. Holding the note long and low, he moaned. The music of sex.

  I felt the warmth spurt from him.

  “I’m sorry. I came,” Carl apologized as he drew back.

  “Sorry? Sweetheart, that was the idea. It’s so hot that I turn you on that much.”

  “Oh, yeah, it turned me on.” He was angry with himself, as if he’d failed. “Ladies first, always, even if she doesn’t think she’s a lady.”

  I laughed as I gently kissed him. “Honey, it used to be that a stiff wind could get you off. Now it takes a lot more. It’s a huge compliment that you got that turned on just by kissing me. Besides, today, it’s all about you.” I nibbled at his ear until he shivered.

  “But it’s no fun if you don’t get anything out of it.”

  I reclined back on the mattress and twirled a piece of hair around my finger. I felt like a wicked seductress and loved every second of it. My toes pressed into his groin. “Another reason why you’re the best.”

  I spread my legs. “If you feel that bad about it, come over and finish me off.”

  “My god! You really don’t have on any underwear.”

  My hand slid down between my legs. I pinched my clit. “You’re so good at rekindling fires, honey. How about stoking this?”

  Before I said good-bye in the lobby of his building, I maneuvered Carl behind a marble column and roughly grabbed his collar. “You might want to take a nap in your office this afternoon, baby, because I expect you to put out tonight, too.”

  He laughed, but I could see it turned him on.

  “Oh, damn! We left my special candle and the cupcake in the lobby of the hotel.” He pretended to be disappointed. “And I’ll bet that if we look for that mysterious shop, it won’t be there anymore.”

  “Those mystical places come and go so unexpectedly,” I agreed ruefully before a grin spread over my face. I couldn’t stop my giggle. We were coconspirators. He made life so fun.

  His eyes twinkled. “Thanks, babe. I—” He couldn’t seem to think of a way to end that, but I already knew what he meant.

  Words were unnecessary. He was my oxygen. He was all I needed to keep the spark glowing.

  Any long-term relationship took work, but keeping the magic between us felt more like play. The real trick was remembering to take time to do it.

  Before he could step into the elevator, I touched his arm. “If you don’t mind me asking, what was your wish?”

  Carl gave me his sappiest grin. “Nothing. I’m smart enough to know that I already have everything I could wish for.” He gave the lobby a quick glance before whispering, “Dirty girl.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  JACQUELINE APPLEBEE (writing-in-shadows.co.uk) is a black bisexual British woman who breaks down barriers with smut. Jacqueline’s stories have appeared in various anthologies including Best Women’s Erotica and Best Lesbian Erotica. Jacqueline has recently penned Erotic Brits, a sexy tour around the United Kingdom and Ireland.

  WICKHAM BOYLE has been writing erotica for women and occasionally couples since 1983. Her work has appeared in collections and online. She is also a mother, theater producer, financial arbitrator on Wall Street and travel writer. Her closet is full of many hats.

  KATHLEEN BRADEAN’s stories (KathleenBradean.Blogspot. com) can be found in The Sweetest Kiss: Ravishing Vampire Erotica; Where the Girls Are; Zane’s Caramel Flava II; Coming Together: Against the Odds and many other anthologies. Be seduced by her 140 characters at a time on Twitter.

  ANGELA CAPERTON’s eclectic erotica spans many genres, including romance, horror, fantasy and what she calls contemporary-with-a-twist. Look for her stories published with Cleis, Circlet Press, Drollerie Press, eXtasy Books and in the indie magazine Out of the Gutter.

  LIZZY CHAMBERS is a previously unpublished college student from the great Midwest. She is currently pursuing a BA in English, with a minor in gender and women’s studies. In the future she hopes to teach and continue writing steamy stories about hunky men and the bold women who capture them.

  PORTIA DA COSTA pens both romance and women’s erotica and is the author of over twenty novels and a hundred-plus short stories. She’s best known for her Black Lace titles, but now writes for a variety of publishers, including Harlequin Spice.

  MONICA DAY is founder of the Sensual Life and hosts Living the Sensual Life: An Evening of Erotic Open Mic in Manhattan. She holds a degree in creative writing from Mills College and uses writing as a tool of sensual freedom in her courses, work-shops and her own everyday life.

  DELILAH DEVLIN (delilahdevlin.com) is an author with a rapidly expanding reputation for writing deliciously edgy stories with complex characters, creating dark, erotically charged paranormal worlds and richly descriptive westerns that ring with authenticity.

  JUSTINE ELYOT has written extensively for Black Lace and Xcite. She lives in the United Kingdom.

  EMERALD’s erotic fiction (thegreenlightdistrict.org) has been published in anthologies edited by Violet Blue, Rachel Kramer Bussel, Jolie du Pre and Alison Tyler as well as at various erotic websites. She currently lives in Maryland and is an advocate for reproductive freedom and sex workers’ rights.

  LANA FOX’s erotica (lanafox.com) has been published in Clean Sheets and numerous anthologies by Xcite. She also has a story published in Alison’s Wonderland, edited by Alison Tyler. “The Silver Belt” is inspired by the erotica of Anaïs Nin.

  ISABELLE GRAY’s writing (pettyfictions.com) appears in numerous anthologies and her alter ego (or is it the other way around?) is the editor of the Cleis anthology Girl Crush.

  A. M. HARTNETT (amhartnett.com) published her first erotic short story in 2006. She lives in Atlantic Canada and has set most of her work in this locale.

  ANNABETH LEONG (annabethleong.blogspot.com) is the pseudonym of a journalist and short story writer. Her erotica has appeared on the Oysters and Chocolate website and in several anthologies, including Girl Crush from Cleis Press.

  TERESA NOELLE ROBERTS writes romantic erotica and erotic romance about loving people who aren’t necessarily vanilla or monogamous. Look for her paranormal romance novels (kinky and/or poly) from Samhain and Phaze and her BDSM-oriented erotica in more anthologies than you can shake a riding crop at.

  SUZANNE V. SLATE is a librarian who lives in the Boston area with her longtime lover. She has published a variety of nonfiction articles and a book and has recently begun writing fiction.

  DONNA GEORGE STOREY (DonnaGeorgeStorey.com) is the author of Amorous Woman, a steamy, semiautobiographical tale of an American woman’s love affair with Japan. Her short fiction has appeared in numerous journals and anthologies including Penthouse, Best American Erotica and The Mammoth
Book of Best New Erotica.

  CHARLENE TEGLIA’s work (charleneteglia.com) has garnered several honors, including the prestigious Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice Award for Best Erotic Novel. Her work has been excerpted in Complete Woman, and selected by the Rhapsody, Doubleday and Literary Guild Book Clubs.

  SASKIA WALKER (saskiawalker.co.uk) is a British author whose short fiction appears in over sixty anthologies. Her erotic novels include Along for the Ride, Double Dare, Reckless, Rampant, Inescapable and The Harlot. Saskia lives in the north of England close to the Yorkshire moors, where she happily spends her days spinning yarns.

  ABOUT THE EDITOR

  RACHEL KRAMER BUSSEL (rachelkramerbussel.com) is a New York-based author, editor and blogger. She has edited over thirty books of erotica, including Fast Girls; Smooth; Orgasmic; Bottoms Up: Spanking Good Stories; Spanked; Naughty Spanking Stories from A to Z 1 and 2; Fast Girls; Smooth; The Mile High Club; Do Not Disturb; Tasting Him; Tasting Her; Please, Sir; Please, Ma’am; He’s on Top; She’s on Top; Caught Looking; Hide and Seek; Crossdressing; Rubber Sex and Bedding Down. She is the author of the novel Everything But… and the nonfiction book How To Write an Erotic Love Letter, Best Sex Writing series editor, and winner of three IPPY (Independent Publisher) Awards. Her work has been published in over one hundred anthologies, including Best American Erotica 2004 and 2006, Zane’s Chocolate Flava 2 and Purple Panties, Everything You Know About Sex Is Wrong, Single State of the Union and Desire: Women Write About Wanting. She serves as senior editor at Penthouse Variations and wrote the popular “Lusty Lady” column for the Village Voice.