The Ultimate Erotic Short Story Collection 37 - 11 Steamingly Hot Erotica Books For Women

by Rebecca Milton

  We found a farm nearby, with an old truck that had seen better days. He easily hot-wired it, while the owner was out in the field tending to crops. We got out of there in a hurry, staying to the back roads, even though I wasn't sure what the difference was. They all looked alike to me, with each one being riddled with potholes, and overgrown with weeds.

  We stopped and had to walk the rest of the way, battling the mosquitoes and the heat beating down on us. Eventually we came across a cabin with the smell of wood burning from a fireplace inside. This was literally the middle of nowhere, and this cabin was hidden from above by trees surrounding the whole area. Even the roof was painted in camouflage, so that there was no way anybody could find it.

  “This is as far as I go, and I believe you can go the rest of the way yourself. I know that this isn't a typical relationship, and I imagine that we are destined to only be together that one time,” he said with a feeling of disappointment coming out of every word.

  Grabbing him, I hugged him and felt him as a comforting source. “I will always treasure our time together, and if it wasn't for you, I'm not sure where I would be. What are you going to do now, because you can't go back to them?”

  “No, but I think I'm going to go back home to Greece, and find a nice woman to settle down with. It's time for me to grow up and act like a man, and stop hiding from all of my problems.” I could feel his angst, but I could also see that he had grown in such a short period of time.

  “I’ll go on foot back to the airport, and I will leave you the truck where we left it coming in here.” He was being so generous, but I was feeling a little guilty about having to walk away.

  I didn't make any move, until he was out of sight, and then I walked up to the door and knocked on it with my heart in my throat. The man that opened the door didn’t look remotely like Gerald Woolston, but I could see underneath the grizzled exterior that he was there hiding in plain sight.

  “I’m Susan, I have come to get your side of the story.” Now that the ice was broken, he invited me in and we sat down and had a long and overdue discussion. He showed me the proof that he was innocent, and that his assistant had made off with most of the money, leaving him holding the bag. I tried to convince him to come back to the states, but he vehemently declined, saying that he didn't have a place there anymore.

  “I’ve inked a life here for myself, and I have no desire to return to the cut throat business world. Go back home with your pictures and story, and let the truth finally be told,” he said with relief evident in the way that his shoulders slumped forward, as if a heavy weight was lifted from his shoulders. I saw that he wasn't going to bend, but I already had what I needed, and walked out of there with a skip to my step.

  Staying in the country, I slept in an old barn, sneaking out to get some food and water, and eventually I made my way back to the airport and to a flight back home.

  What happened to me made me a stronger woman, and I was finally able to tell Jamie that we weren't right for each other. My stock in journalism went up when the story went national, and I was the talk of the town, at least until they forgot my achievement.

  A month later, I was coming home with my mail in my hands, when I dropped it in the shock of seeing Mikos standing at my condominium door. He had a bouquet of white roses, and a smile that lit up his face.

  “I went home, made up with my family, but I couldn't get you out of my mind,” he said as he came towards me. We kissed, and it felt like I was where I was supposed to be… in his arms and in his bed.

  ***

  [Hope you liked the story and don't forget your 8 complimentary books PLUS incredible deals available only to members. You'll find a link to all of this on the last page of this collection, just after the 11th story ends. Now, on to the next story!]

  A Change of Genre

  by

  Diana Vega

  Sylvia was indulging in her favorite pastime; puttering around the library in search of something to inspire her. She found ideas and new project in the strangest of places. Sometimes she would be looking for a specific book and stumble across something even more interesting.

  Today she had no specific destination in mind; she was going to select a book at random and browse through it, just to see where it led her. She never did anything the easy way so, of course, the book she wanted was out of her arms reach. This was one of the many times that she cursed whatever fate demanded that she be just a little shorter than average.

  She glanced around and didn’t see a step stool or a librarian around so she simply stood on the empty bottom shelf and reached up. She had the book in hand and was about to climb down when she accidentally pushed a book from the next shelf through the other side and right on top of someone on the other side.

  ***

  Michael was trying to focus on the new research topic that his adviser had sprung on him. He knew it was against the rules to bring beverages into the stacks, but he needed the boost. His intent was to grab the book and then settle down in a study room.

  He did not expect to be so drawn into the topic that he had to sit down right away and read. He certainly didn’t expect a book to come tumbling down on top of him, spilling his coffee all over him. He heard a tiny squeak of surprise and saw a flash of curly hair appear around the corner of the bookshelf.

  “I’m so sorry. Did I spill anything on the book?”

  He was so surprised he didn’t censor himself.

  “The book is fine; I managed to soak up the hot coffee with my groin before anything got on the book.”

  He didn’t at all intend to be so rude, but really, books raining down on him when he was trying to work brought out the worst in him.

  “You aren’t supposed to be drinking in the stacks.”

  “I don’t think you’re supposed to be climbing bookshelves either.”

  She made a little harrumph sound and disappeared back around the shelf.

  This little encounter ruined Sylvia’s little adventure and she took the book to the basket at the end of the row. She usually re-shelved the book herself, but librarians hated that and she knew they would already be grumpy because of the spilled coffee in the next row, so why completely ruin their day?

  Michael got up off of the floor with his book in hand. A librarian was standing at the end of his row, glowering at him in the way that only librarians and elderly nuns could. She pointed to his coffee cup and he threw it away. She took the book and paged through it to determine if it had been damaged. When she saw that it hadn’t she returned it to him. Michaels’s train of thought was completely ruined.

  ***

  Sylvia was on her way to the Library entrance when she suddenly decided she wasn’t going to let some stranger’s rudeness spoil her afternoon. She started at the other end of the library and selected an obscure biography and settled down with her notebook to browse. She made notations and followed a few footnotes to the Library’s special collection.

  She swiped the pass that gave her access and found herself engrossed in a seldom read novel. She was so engrossed in the story that she didn’t realize that the library was about to close. She had completely missed the warning announcement and it was only the security guard’s check of the room that kept her from being locked in. She scooped up her things and hurried toward the entrance.

  She saw a tall man pleading with the grad student at the circulation desk. He had reddish blonde hair and was at least a foot taller than she. He was wearing jeans so well cut they appeared to be made for his slender hips. She shook her head; the romance in the novel must have clouded her usually clear thinking.

  She approached the desk and heard his rich deep voice asking if he could put the book on hold until his advisor could secure it for him. The girl grudgingly agreed, which Sylvia thought was due more to the man’s attractiveness than excellent customer service. Sylvia gave her a wave and walked out the door. She swung the backpack over her shoulder, nearly knocking the person behind her over.

  **
*

  Michael was actually enjoying the new topic and worked all the way up until closing time. He tried to check the book out but was told that it was on reserve and could only be used in the library. After a great deal of discussion he was able to put the book on hold so he could get his adviser’s faculty card to obtain the book.

  He headed towards the door, desperate for coffee. His gaze fell upon the girl, woman really, with the long curly hair. She had an hourglass figure enhanced by her yoga pants and loose shirt. Her waist was defined by a sweater that she had tied around her waist. He wished he could get a look at her bottom so he could see if she if it was as curvy as the rest of her. He was so preoccupied with looking at her that he didn’t notice when she swung her huge backpack on her shoulder. It knocked into him hard enough to make him stumble.

  Unbelievable was the only thing Sylvia could think of when she turned to apologize. She had almost knocked over the guy with the coffee. No, the rude guy who didn’t follow the rules about the coffee. He was very handsome with blue eyes and that strawberry blonde hair. His shoulders were broad and she just knew they tapered down to a trim waist in a perfect V. He looked a little taken aback and she stepped away from to offer an apology.

  Michael thought that this was the perfect ending to what turned out to be a frustrating day. The woman he had been ogling was the one who had dropped a book on him. Now she had almost clobbered him with a backpack that probably weighed as much as she did.

  He looked down into her russet colored eyes and was completely mesmerized. Her beautiful eyes were almond shape giving her an exotic look. Her hair framed her face in tousled curls. As she looked up at him, her pink lips were slightly open as if she was about to say something. He wanted to lean down and kiss her.

  “I’m so sorry about hitting you. I didn’t know you were standing behind me.”

  He accepted her apology and was about to say something else when she darted away, shouldering the bag without any further trouble.

  Sylvia took her books to her car. She was a little dazed by running into the guy again. Should she have said something to him other than her apology? She didn’t think so, but she still felt unsettled. The alarm on her phone beeped at her and she grabbed her purse and went to meet her father at the coffee shop.

  He was sitting at his usual table in the corner, gnawing on the end of his pipe. Smoking wasn’t allowed in there anymore, not even for a favorite professor, but he couldn’t break the habit of gesturing with his pipe so he just used it as a prop. She walked over and kissed him on the cheek, smelling the familiar comforting smell of pipe tobacco and shaving cream. She sat in the chair across from him as his favorite waitress brought her cup of tea. It was a cozy way of wrapping up the afternoon and she really loved the time with her dad.

  “One of my students will be stopping by, I hope you don’t mind. It wasn’t planned. He sounded like he desperately needed to speak to me.”

  “He probably wants permission to change socks. Really Dad, you shouldn’t terrify your students into indecisiveness.”

  Her father laughed.

  “No, this one, Michael, is different. He ran into some trouble with his research topic and he needs my signature before he can continue.”

  Her father waved at someone over her head. She turned slightly to see who was coming over and almost fell out of her chair. It was the guy from the library. He was heading over with his long stride and stopped abruptly when he saw her. A bevy of girls from the high school stared at him with rapturous gazes. He was completely unaware and kept walking towards the table. Her father gestured to the empty chair.

  “Michael, please, sit down. I would like you to meet Sylvia.”

  Sylvia turned and held out her hand. Michael gave her a long look as he waited for additional introduction. He thought Sylvia might be another grad student.

  “Sylvia is my daughter, please, shake her hand. She’ll just hold there all day if you don’t. It’s a bad habit she picked up from our dog.”

  Sylvia gave a low chuckle which did amazing things to Michael’s insides. He took her hand. It was soft and firm. He noticed there was a smudge of ink on her finger. She had a curious smile on her face that reminded him so much of a cat that he wanted to pet her hair. He suspected that she wouldn’t like that at all.

  Of course Michael was one of her father’s students. It seemed as if the people she most wanted to avoid were always attached to her father in one way or another. Except she didn’t know if she really wanted to avoid Michael; it might be nice to encounter him without dropping something on him.

  Sylvia watched Michael as her father dragged him into a discussion. Sylvia had no idea what it was about; she was focused solely on Michael. He was very animated and not at all like her father’s other students who seemed to be in school only to serve as acolytes to the great professor. She was pleasantly surprised to hear that Michael didn’t just nod and smile at everything her father said.

  He spoke and argued and she was enthralled by his passionate discussion. His eyes sparkled and his fingers thrummed on the table. He leaned forward in his seat and she saw a glint of blonde chest hair peeking out from his loosened collar. That was something else that was different. Most of her father’s students had a rumpled look and wore t-shirts with sayings in Greek or Klingon and had glasses that were so smudged that you couldn’t really tell if they had eyes, much less what color they were.

  He was wearing a long sleeved chambray shirt that had been ironed at one point earlier that day. His sleeves were rolled up and there were wrinkles across the middle of his shirt that she could tell were caused by leaning against a table or desk.

  He was leaning on the table now as he listened to her father. She looked at his hands. They were fascinating, lean and strong like the rest of him with short nails. There was ink on his fingers that said he took notes the old-fashioned way, in longhand on paper. She took a deep swallow. He was so much her perfect ideal of man that her mouth was actually watering.

  Michael felt the weight of her stare as her eyes walked all over him. It was becoming difficult to concentrate. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing to his adviser for two reasons; he didn’t want to appear foolish and he didn’t want Sylvia to think she had any effect on him. It was all a charade.

  He definitely felt foolish and she was definitely causing him to feel things he hadn’t in a long time. It was his own fault. He had locked himself away under the guise of being scholarly. This professor was the first one who really made him want to explore his own research. It should have been just icing on the cake to find out that the professor had such a luscious daughter.

  It was just the right side of dangerous. It was a serious test of his peripheral vision to watch Sylvia watch him. He heard the professor direct a question towards her and he turned to look at her. She was blushing a charming pink that made her russet eyes glow. She had been caught staring at him.

  Sylvia hadn’t at all been following the conversation so she changed the subject to the book she stumbled upon in the library. She didn’t expect her father’s tone of surprise.

  “Really, Sylvia? I’m surprised. I didn’t think you liked romance stories.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Well, you should go back and reread a few sections, that novel was considered very spicy in its day.”

  “I’ll take another look, but just because I like this one doesn’t mean I’m going to commit to changing genres.”

  “That’s not a bad thing; Michael here has just started a new direction of research that he really likes, so much so, he’s been harassing the circulation desk for an obscure book.”

  He fumbled in his bag and pulled out his card. He made a few notes on it.

  “Michael, go back in the morning and show this to them. They will give you the book or face my wrath.”

  He laughed and Michael relaxed.

  Sylvia was stunned. Her father rarely joked with his students and he never let them see beyond his ferocious demean
or. Michael must be someone special indeed.

  ***

  Sylvia couldn’t sleep. After meeting with her father and Michael, she went home and tried not to think about Michael. She wasn’t the type to have a crush on every other guy she met, although she had to admit, she had never met anyone like Michael before. It was crazy to feel this way. Every time she closed her eyes all she saw was the planes of Michael’s face, the set of his jaw, the slightly stubbly look of his cheek.

  He had a dimple that peeked out when he smiled and occasionally when he talked. She wanted to fill that dimple in with kisses. She immediately wanted to punch herself in the face for having such a thought. This was not at all like her. She remembered how his fingers had looked as they beat out their rhythm while he talked. His hands looked so strong and capable and all she could think of was how good they would feel on her as they explored her body.