Best Erotic Romance 2013 Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Foreword

  Introduction

  KISS AND MAKE UP

  WAITING FOR ILYA

  THREE NIGHTS BEFORE THE WEDDING

  FLOWERING

  TEACH ME

  LAST HUNDRED DAYS

  THE PRICE OF LOVE

  ANOTHER CHANCE

  CUTTING OUT HEARTS

  CHOCOLATE CAKE AND YOU

  ADAGIO

  NOTHING IMPORTANT HAPPENED TODAY

  RENOVATE

  TROUBLE IN PARADISE

  KISS OF PEACE

  GROUNDED

  SWEET MEMORIES

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  ABOUT THE EDITOR

  Copyright Page

  FOREWORD

  Saskia Walker

  Erotic Romance, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways…

  Ah, curling up with a hot and steamy erotic romance—there are few more delicious pleasures. These days I rarely read a romance that doesn’t include the erotic element. When the eroticism and the emotional aspects of the story entwine it’s simply the best kind of story for me, and that goes for many other readers too. Sexuality is part of human nature, so it doesn’t seem right to leave it out of a story about developing relationships. Whilst erotic scenes are rewarding reads in themselves, they resonate most when they are an integral part of the characters’ falling in love and expressing their emotions to each other. Not only that, but the most basic as well as the deepest of human emotions and experiences can be found and portrayed in the act of physical love. Moments of conflict, too, can be profoundly moving during intimacy. As readers we partake of that adventure. We understand the obstacles that have to be conquered. We feel the risk, fear and ecstasy of falling in love, and we thrill at the heady pleasure of decadent sex—all those things that call to the wilder side of our souls.

  We haven’t always had this subgenre. When I began reading romance many, many years ago, I loved the books, simply couldn’t get enough. I jumped aboard the protagonist’s journey eagerly, savoring the ride. But when the bedroom door closed me out it was a big letdown. It felt wrong. I felt deprived. The hero’s broad shoulders had loomed closer and I would be as breathless with expectation as the heroine. When that was followed by a description of the flames in the fireplace then a cut to the heroine’s postcoital happiness in his arms, I knew I had been cheated of an essential part of the relationship unfolding. I used to flick the pages back and forth, seriously convinced that someone had torn some pages out of the book, because something was definitely missing and it just wasn’t right. The bait was set in my blood. I wanted those intimate scenes because I knew they would make the rest of the story vibrant and whole.

  Thankfully, over the last two decades the bedroom door has not only been left wide open, it has frequently been rattled off its hinges by the passionate intensity on the pages. Erotic romance as a genre has grown in leaps and bounds. Over the last five years in particular we’ve had access to a wealth of reading material to satisfy our desire for these kinds of stories. In 2012, erotic romance books topped the bestseller charts and stayed there. For readers this is great news, and there are some terrific erotic romance writers out there—and these writers can take us right into the heart of a relationship, their talent as wordsmiths cleverly illustrating how evocative the physical aspect can be. In the short-story form in particular, a carefully crafted glimpse into the erotic romance is a thrilling experience, a window into the most exciting and satisfying of relationships. If readers witness the romance overcome difficult circumstances and flourish during the erotic scenes it makes for both a steamy and emotionally fulfilling read. That’s what you have here in your hands.

  Erotic Romance, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways…

  Here in this collection you have seventeen ways. Read the stories of writers who perfectly understand the intersection of the physical and the emotional. Savor and enjoy.

  Saskia Walker

  The wilds of West Yorkshire, England

  INTRODUCTION: CAN’T GET ENOUGH

  Love. The word conjures up a variety of images, from sappy to cynical. Love is the heart’s calling, a need for connection with another soul.

  So what happens when love meets sex? Erotic love is that delicious blend of hearts and minds and bodies, a combination of sweet and dirty, romantic and sexy. Sex by itself—hot, steamy, sensual sex—is one of the best things this life has to offer. But then, so is love. First love, new love, renewed love; love that has stood the test of time, love that has conquered every obstacle. It doesn’t matter if it’s a new relationship, such as Jeanette Grey’s yoga-bound characters in “Teach Me,” or a long-term relationship like Dominic Santi’s happily (and lustily) married couple in “Kiss of Peace”—the combination of sex and love is incendiary.

  Best Erotic Romance 2013 is not about fantasy love affairs. It’s not about perfect bodies having perfect sex and being perfectly in love. These stories are about the messiness, the screwed-uppedness, of love and lust. These are stories about people you might know, people who might even be you. People whose bodies aren’t perfect, whose words are not always right or kind, people who fall in love and have sex when and where they can even when it’s not always easy or convenient or even wise.

  Love is messy and complicated—except when it’s not. But even when it’s right, even when the stars have aligned to bring two people together who are perfect for each other, there are obstacles. There are children and careers and birth-control issues and homes to renovate and scheduling problems and forgotten anniversaries and, and, and…there’s always something to throw a wrench in the works and drag two people apart instead of pulling them together and into bed. But they make it work and, eventually, they find their way to that bed. Or the couch. Or the wall. Or the yard. Or the car. They take each other’s hand and they find a way to be together in all the ways that matter. For today, for now, forever. That’s what happens when love and sex come together. Hopeless, maddening, passionate, sexy love.

  The stories in this book are a promise. A promise that erotic love does exist, that it is real and powerful and all encompassing. A promise that, once found, it can and does last. For a lifetime, if you’re lucky. A promise to you, dear reader, that these stories exist because we, the writers, believe in erotic love. Believe it, live it, write it—and cherish it, just like you do.

  May you find the love you’re looking for—or keep the love you already have.

  Kristina Wright

  In love in Virginia

  KISS AND MAKE UP

  Heidi Champa

  “Come on, Ophelia. How long are you going to stay mad at me?”

  I didn’t answer him. I was too angry to give in to him just yet. I was intent on staying mad for a lot longer. He had messed up, and I wasn’t about to let him off the hook. A ten-year anniversary doesn’t come around every year. And he had forgotten. Not even so much as a card. I’d gone all out of course. I’d bought him a vintage watch and had it engraved with the date of our wedding. It took me months to find it and once I did, I couldn’t wait to see Ted’s face when he opened the box.

  Ted had never been the most romantic guy, but I fully expected after ten years together, he’d be able to come up with something special for us. Imagine my surprise when I presented the gift during the elaborate meal I’d created and saw his face drop when I said the words Happy Anniversary. That had been two days ago, and I was still seething. He’d tried everything to get me to talk to him, but I hadn’t said more than hello and good-bye to him. I wanted to get over it, but I didn’t know how. Ted, it seemed, was trying again and I was going to do my best to resist his latest lame attempt to get me to f
orgive him.

  “The silent treatment. That’s fine. I’ll just have to get you to talk to me another way.”

  He let his hands slip around my back and I felt his body press slowly against me. He leaned his head down toward me and I closed my eyes. His lips were so close to mine, I could feel the softness of his breath right in front of me. The lightest brush of his lips hit mine, and my breath caught in my throat. He held his lips there, not going any farther, barely touching. It was torture.

  “Still not going to say anything? I guess I’m not as convincing as I thought.” He kept his tease going. I let him move us forward. His hand slid up to my neck and I felt his fingers going through my hair. His mouth was right over mine, our mouths nearly mingling. I was still angry, really angry, but there was a small part of me that wanted to devour him right there in the kitchen.

  “Well, I guess if you’re not going to give in, I’m going to have to get tough.” I was just about to laugh out loud at his assertion, when I felt his hand steal under my ass, and he hitched me up to the countertop without much effort. I sat in front of him, my legs locking behind his back without a conscious thought. His mouth moved to the soft lines of my neck, his lips setting small fires all over my skin. My hands traipsed over his hair, keeping him close to me. I breathed deep, realizing how I’d missed his smell. He had only spent one night on the couch. I resisted letting my own mouth explore his skin. I desperately wanted to kiss him, but I was trying to hold my ground. He pushed my hair back from my face and stared into my eyes.

  “You are so beautiful, you know that?”

  I tried to remain unmoved, but I felt myself blush. The heat of my face was nothing compared to my body, which was now practically on fire. I tried to push him back from the counter, but he just grabbed my hands. Before I could stop him, he was pulling me down the hallway to our bedroom. He walked backward right to the bed and sat down. His large hands in mine, he pulled me onto his lap.

  “Come on, I said I was sorry. Aren’t you going to forgive me? Please, pretty please. I know I’ve been a bad boy, but I want to make it up to you.”

  I didn’t say a word. Maybe I was being unfair. After all, why should I punish myself for his mistakes? Instead of accepting his apology, I just straddled him. My legs wrapping around his waist, I kissed him deeply, rocking slightly on his lap. I reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. I felt his bare chest with my hands, the heat coming off his skin in waves. My blouse and bra were off, ending up in a pile with the other clothes. He stopped, looking at my breasts in the dying daylight. His tongue flicked over my collarbone, dropping kisses down to my breasts. His fingers teased me, pulling my flesh into tight peaks, while his mouth came and went, only making me want it more. I arched my back, but he went on with his game. Until I started grinding myself against his growing cock. He then became much more generous with his affection. He looked up at me with his big puppy-dog eyes and pleaded with me once more.

  “God, honey. I’m so sorry. Do you forgive me? Say you forgive me.”

  He moved right back to my breasts, not waiting for my response. The heat of his mouth on my nipple made me turn to jelly inside, while on the surface my body tensed with each sucking kiss. Before I knew it, he had flipped me on my back, resuming his torture of my hard nipples with his hands and mouth. I lay on the bed, helpless, letting him slowly circle each nipple with his tongue, his actions drawing me closer and closer to losing my mind. Then he started sinking lower, his mouth teasing and tickling down my stomach until I was trembling under his lips. I felt his long fingers tracing over the light fabric of my panties, running aimlessly about, avoiding what I really wanted him to touch.

  The lightest pressure of his fingers made me heat up inside. I moved my hips in circles, enjoying the barest of touches. But I wanted more. I wanted those panties off; wanted his mouth on me. All that stood between us were the small black cotton panties he rubbed me through.

  “You want them off, don’t you?”

  “Yeah.” It was the first word I had managed since we started.

  “Say, you accept my apology. Say you forgive me.”

  “Please, Ted. Please take them off.”

  “Not until you say it.”

  “Okay, okay. I forgive you. God, Ted. I forgive you. Please, please take them off now.”

  He hooked his fingers through the waistband, and the flimsy fabric slid down past my ankles. But he didn’t go right back to my now-bare flesh. He was half on top of me, kissing me deeply on the mouth. His fingers danced over my taut nipple, barely grazing it. His hands seemed so big gripping my hips, pulling me close. My hands cradled his face, as I tried to hold on to the moment for as long as I could. I ran my finger over his mouth, and he caught it between his lips, sucking it in to his mouth. My stomach rolled over, and a new wash of heat ran through me. His face dropped from my hands, and he kissed down my neck to the sweep of my collarbone. Every inch of my skin caught fire, each little kiss and lick starting a new blaze. I clawed at his hair, urging him forward, pushing him farther down my body.

  Ted would not be rushed. His mouth again latched on to my nipple, sucking it deep into his mouth, flicking it over and over with his tongue. Arching my back, I tried to get more. All I could think was that I needed more. More of anything that Ted wanted to give to me. The heat of his mouth was joined by his slow, tracing fingers moving up my thigh. I could feel the gentle tremble of my leg under his touch, every time he got nearer to my pussy. He seemed to be purposefully avoiding my most sensitive skin, teasing me with little touches everywhere else. He pushed my legs apart and I felt his fingers moving closer and closer to my cunt. Moans were escaping my throat as his mouth moved back and forth over my nipples, teasing one and then the other until I was ready to scream.

  “Ted, I can’t take much more of this.”

  “Do you really forgive me?”

  “You are killing me.”

  “That isn’t what I asked.”

  “Yes. Yes. I told you I forgive you. Now fuck me, please.”

  His mouth covered mine, stopping any more words from getting out. His finger had finally found my slick heat, and my hard clit was sliding under his soft touch. The small circles teased my clit until I found my hips moving along, trying to get Ted to go faster. But he kept going at the maddeningly slow pace, his eyes watching my face.

  His finger slipped down past my clit and entered me, opening my pussy up for the first time. I gasped, closing my eyes tight. The flat of his palm grazed my clit, with each slide in and out.

  “Open your eyes. Please, Ophelia, open your eyes.”

  I could barely stand it, but I did. His green eyes shone back at me, intense and sparkling.

  “Ted, please, I need you.”

  He kissed me, hard and probing, all his energy filling me. Without missing a beat, he lowered his face, sweeping kisses over my quivering hips and down to my open thighs. I felt his breath between my legs and his fingers caressing my lips, sweeping over me. He was just looking at me, taking me in while I was writhing, waiting for his mouth to touch me. I felt the tip of his tongue gently touch my clit, and I felt like my mind was going to come apart. His gentle sweeping strokes covered my pussy, teasing my sensitive skin until I was shaking and clawing at the sheets. The long fingers that I had fallen in love with so long ago were finally touching me, spreading me open, filling my tight pussy, pleasing me. The sensation was so intense, I didn’t know if I could handle much more.

  He kept slowing, teasing me, tasting me, urging my desire forward, pushing me closer to the edge. His fingertip swirled the smallest circles over my clit. I gasped at his masterful touch, the pressure just enough to thrill me but not enough to make me come. I felt two fingers surround my clit and slide up and back, causing a fresh surge of heat to rush right to my pussy. His impossibly long finger slid inside me, my walls gripping him, pulling him deeper.

  “God, you are such a pushover. I would never have forgiven me if I were you. Lord kn
ows I don’t deserve it.”

  I could hear the laugh in his voice, and I would have wanted to smack him, if it didn’t feel so good. After that, he stopped talking and went back to using all his weapons against me. I had taken as much as I could, and I wanted to give him something in return. I grabbed at him, pulling him up my body until we were again face-to-face. His kiss tasted like me, his lips hot with my wet pussy. It was amazing.

  “So, you think you are off the hook, huh?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  I rolled him onto his back and straddled him quickly.

  “We’ll see who’s laughing in a minute.”

  I ran my hands over his chest, feeling every inch of tight muscle and the light smattering of hair that covered his chest. I ran my thumbs over his tight little nipples, smirking at the hitch it caused in his breath. I leaned down and kissed his chest, smelling him, tasting him with my tongue. Licking tiny flicks over his nipple, I grabbed it lightly with my teeth, and he put a hand to my head. I went about torturing his nipples a little longer, letting his moans make me even hotter. But I wanted more. His flat stomach beckoned to me and I let myself slide down his body. Kissing his navel, I felt his hard cock resting right between my tits. I let it drag over my soft skin, feeling it pulse and shake at the contact. It jerked forward, trying to get my attention. I smiled up at him; his eyes were glassy and fuzzy with need. Keeping his gaze on me, I let my tongue fall gently out of my mouth, and let the smallest lick move across the head.

  “Are you really sorry?”

  “Yes. God, yes.”

  “And you’ll never do it again?”

  “I promise. Please, Ophelia. I promise.”

  I wouldn’t let him look away as I wrapped my lips around him, taking the soft velvety plum head between my wet lips. His gasp shot straight to my pussy, sending heat through me. I sucked him gently, until his eyes finally closed and his head thrust back into the pillow. Slowly I licked my way down the underside of his cock, flicking and gently sucking the sensitive ridge. Licking my way back up, I wrapped my mouth around him again, and let his cock sink deeper into my throat.