0 comments/ 13433 views/ 0 favorites Shiver By: spacemanspiff_11 Her notebook was out, yet nothing was coming to mind that was worth putting down. She sighed as her husband walked into the room. "Something wrong?" She smiled as he sat next to her and slipped his arm around her. His touch, no matter how light, never failed to register within her body, driving a wave of tingles through her skin. She leaned against him, her small body molding to his. The kids were playing in the other room, and her lips gently played across his ear. "Feeling lucky sailor?" Kyle chuckled, and started to rise. "Let me get the munchkins in bed." She watched as he padded out of the room, and just a minute later, her three kids came bounding into the room. They each crashed into her, laughing, showering her with affection. Kyle followed behind, making sure each had kissed her, and started herding the mob off to bed. She rose and stretched out, listening to the kids making their final pleas as Kyle put them all to bed. She climbed into bed, her mind already racing with anticipation. He ambled into the bedroom, smiling to her as he rounded the bed and walked into the bathroom. She felt she had a perfect marriage - great kids, a loving and caring husband, good career and friends. Nothing ever felt amiss with Kyle. Her eyes beamed at him as he exited the bathroom and circled the bed, pulling the covers back on his side. She turned away and leaned over the nightstand to flip off the light. Their bed groaned as he crawled into it, and she felt the covers pull slightly from her as he hid himself underneath. She turned to face him, and saw he was trying to get settled. His touch earlier had made her body warm, and now she was craving that release. Her fingernails grazed across his belly, flirting with the skin there, as they unhurriedly etched lower. "Do you want something?" His tone was tired, yet coy, and Miranda knew she would have to hurry. Her fingers pushed past his boxers and grazed over his cock, which was now leisurely filling with blood. Her palm slid down the length, her fingers encompassing him, squeezing gently as he became more aroused. He tilted his head and leaned over to kiss her, when she corrected him. "Stay right there, baby." She pushed the covers away and kissed his belly, as her fingers began massaging his growing cock. She closed her hand around his cock, and heard him groan as she did. She brought it out, into her view as her lips lifted from his stomach. Her tongue flickered gently around the head as her hand dawdled along his shaft. Her lips encircled the head, and she moaned against his silky skin, causing his hips to respond. They gently pushed upwards, trying to fit more of his cock into her mouth. Her lips embraced the head, her tongue flickering over the sensitive ridge, as her hand pumped the shaft below. Feeling the blood coursing through his veins, she swung her leg across him and slid her hips to his, feeling the tight silky skin of his cock sliding over her velvety folds. His hands against her hips, she closed her eyes and pressed down, their bodies slowly coming together. She gasped softly at the sensation of being opened by him, her muscles contracting and pulsing against him. Her hair was draped down, gliding over his skin, as she leaned down farther. She felt his groans, and she pressed her body against his, her nipples scraping across his chest, as their hips gently meshed together. Her body was warming from the core outward, slowly building as his cock pumped into her from below. Her small hands rested against his chest, feeling his heart beating. Her eyes closed and her hands tightened on his skin, her nails raking across his shoulders as her orgasm grew closer. His groans caused her to reflex, and her muscles clamped down upon his cock, trapping it within her as the orgasm tore through her body. She bit down on his shoulder, his skin muffling her cries. Her hips were shuddering and her body heaving on his. She felt the splash of hot semen into her as his cock exploded into her, and groaned, feeling another small wave sweep over her body. She trembled, and let her weight press against him, her skin tingling as she caught her breath. She was lying against him, enjoying the silence. Her ear was pressed against his chest, and she could hear every beat of his heart, slowing down as they relished the afterglow. She felt his palms sliding over her back, following the curve of her spine down. She smiled to herself, lifting her head, her dreamy eyes smiling into his. "I love you, Kyle." His eyes matched hers, and he gently leaned forward, kissing her lips as she slid off him. She fell asleep with her fingers tracing aimless patterns across his chest. ************ It was too bad, really. She sat across from him, watching his every move. Although she was nodding and listening to him, she was really gauging his reactions to her questions. Watching his eyes, his hands: she couldn't help but notice his nervous energy coming to the forefront. It was her job to weed out the pretenders from the contenders for these positions, and she only forwarded the best candidates onto the lead developers. They paid a lot of money for her skills, and she never disappointed the men she worked with. A student of human nature, she had already seen enough from this applicant to warrant his resume be dumped in the trashcan. She rose and smiled sweetly. "Well, Mr. Parker. Everything seems to be in order. We will call you if you make the cut for the second interview." He smiled, shook her hand, and left quietly. She reclined into the chair, and looked out the window, at the falling snow. There was something so tranquil about that....the virgin white flakes, falling against the window, sluggishly melting as they slid down. She sighed, and heard someone knocking on the door. "Come in." It was Benjamin Pyatt, a lead developer, one of the men that trusted her HR skills. He was a good friend of hers, one of the guys that actually sat down with her and taught her what they did. "Any good ones, Miranda?" "Sorry Ben. Not a one. In addition to most of them being a bit flaky today, the last one lied pretty poorly on his resume." He chuckled and gazed out the window. He reflected for a bit, watching the same snowflakes as she was. "How many more today?" "None today - it is Tuesday, and I leave early, remember?" They both smiled. Of all the people that worked with her, only Benjamin knew of her writings and subsequent publishings. "Ahhhh, yes. How is that going for you?" "Not bad, although, I have been stuck in a rut lately. My head seems to be empty." He chuckled again, and rose, still staring out the window. "Don't worry, I am sure something will pop up. Enjoy your evening." She watched him walk out, and she took another minute to gaze out her window. Normally such pristine beauty would have filled her head, but she seemed to be blocked. She rose, and languidly stretched. Looking outside one last time, she packed her things up, and headed to her car. The drive took slightly longer than the normal twenty minutes, with the snow falling. She parked at the small auditorium, and gathering her notebook, made her way to the café across the street. The wind was brisk, and wound its way through the concrete corridors. Parking her car, she bundled up her parka tightly, and made her way across the parking lot. Opening the door to the café greeted her nostrils with cinnamon and coffee. She smiled warmly as she twisted her way to the counter and the coed behind it. The young college student took her order and a minute later, her insides were warming to a perfect, steaming hot latte. She took a seat near the large bank of windows, and just watched the people enter the small shop. And still nothing was coming to mind. She looked over the sludge on the street, the grey skies softly spitting snow towards the earth, and her mind was a total blank. Deciding to use the quiet time, she pulled out the latest book she was reading and, adjusting her glasses, she buried herself into it. "A refill?" The question brought Miranda from her book, to see the bright smiling face of another coed. She smiled, shaking her head no, and, checking the time, decided to head across the street. Rising, she stretched out, and pulled her coat tightly around her waist, as she gathered her things. The wind had not relented as she quickly crossed the street. Walking in the door, she was immediately greeted by a whirlwind of questions from two young girls. She truly enjoyed helping others with their poetry, and being a published poet gave her a bit of a fan club. "Mrs. Wilcox? Can you look at this and tell me what you think?" "Mrs. Wilcox? My poem from last week is done, what do you think?" She laughed, enjoying the attention from the youngsters, and quickly apologized. "Girls, let me get seated and settled, ok?" They giggled, and ran off to another section of the hall. She watched them run off, probably to spy on boys, and made her way to the front of the seats. Her seat was at the front, and she set her possessions near the chair. Coming to rest into her chair, she took a minute to gaze around. It was the same crowd. There were some good poets here, but the majority of them were average. She just enjoyed being able to pass her wisdom onto people that did love poetry. It was rewarding to see someone she had helped up on stage, reading their words proudly and the look on their face as the crowd applauded for them. There were always a few scattered new faces. The two young girls came running back to her, and she smiled as she began reading their work. A couple of quick corrections, and she sent the girls on their way. She turned to see Lauren walking towards their table. Lauren slid into her seat, and smiled serenely. Her hand was doing its best impersonation of a fan. "Wait until you see the new talent." Miranda just smiled and Lauren giggled as the host Charles came up the microphone. The regular poets spoke first, including Miranda. She smiled serenely to the group, as Charles introduced her. Her poem was a soulful rendition of a true love, and a night they spent together. As always, her work garnered a lot of applause, and she blushed as she returned to her seat. Her eyes scanned the crowd, and found someone was staring at her. She smiled, and to her surprise, he returned it, and went back to scribbling on his notepad. She felt a quick chill pass through her bones as she sat in her seat. As the evening wore on, she kept feeling a slight chill in the air. It was completely random, like a vent just deciding to blow icy air against her body. Her glancing around the room revealed nothing. Some of the people were listening, some writing, but nothing really stuck out against the chill. ************ The parade of poets was through, and Miranda was gathering her things. Lauren had wasted no time, and was talking to one of the new poets. His name was Dean, and he was definitely Lauren's type. As she bent to pick up her purse, she felt someone growing close. Rising, she looked up to see Dean standing in front of her. A slight smile crossed his lips. "Hi, Lauren told me your name was Miranda?" She nodded, as she rose to her full height, which was still way under his eyes. "My name is Dean. Dean McAlister." He chuckled softly, as she began to look confused. "Miranda Wilcox, right? The Miranda Wilcox, from Poetry Swap?" She allowed herself to blush. Her work had been out there for a while, and she did have a couple of published collected works. "Yes, that is me." "Wow. I must say it is an honor to meet you. I have long admired your work." "Well, thank you. It is always nice to know that people are reading and enjoying it." "That I did. And still do, for that matter." Her cheeks conceded to another flush of red. She smiled and looked into his eyes. Her mind flitted back to her last vacation. The waters of the Pacific were not as blue as what she was gazing into. "I would love to discuss poetry with you sometime." She smiled again, and nodded. "That would be great. I am here pretty much every Tuesday." His smile was contagious and she watched him walk away. Lauren came up behind her, and admonished her. "Don't look at him like that." Both women laughed to themselves, and walked to their cars together. She drove home in silence, and slipped into the house. Even though the weather was mild, she felt a chill sweep over her bones. The trees were not blowing around, the wind not rustling the leaves. And still the chill pushed through her skin. Inside didn't seem much better. A quilt was wrapped tightly about her, and she still couldn't seem to shake the chill. "Feeling ok?" Kyle's words seem to jolt her out of her daydreams. "Just have the chills." "Are you ok? Getting sick?" "No. No, I feel fine. I just have a chill.....that's all." Later that night, after kissing her children goodnight, she lay down against her sleeping husband. She slid her arms around his body, and slowly drifted off. She awoke suddenly, in the middle of the night. She rolled over, and glanced at the clock. 2:00 AM. Muttering to herself, she began to rise, when she felt that chill sweep across her skin. She peeked over to the door, and saw it was open. She told herself that was not right - their bedroom door was never left open. Glancing over, she saw Kyle was still asleep. She began to remove the heavy down comforter from her body. Walking to the door, she was stunned to see a light on downstairs. Her voice creaked softly in the dead silence of the night. "Kyle?" He responded by shifting and rolling over. Sighing, she trudged down the steps. Reaching the kitchen, she looked around, and nothing changed. The light switch beckoned her hand, and as she turned to flick the switch, she heard someone breathe. She turned and saw a figure silhouetted in the dining room. Her breath caught in her throat as he began walking towards her. For some reason, she didn't run away screaming. Her insides were churning, turning into liquid as he grew closer. She saw his face as she stepped into the light. It took a minute, but she finally recognized the face as Dean's. Her head swirled as those eyes gazed into hers. Her eyes felt imprisoned, and held by his. Her breath seemed long and ragged, her chest rising and falling with each one. His eyes pored into her, and she felt that familiar chill seeping back into her bones. She felt that she had to look away, but she couldn't, and he kept growing closer. He finally blinked, and she was able to look away, and take a deep breath. She closed her eyes, afraid to look into his eyes again. She felt him growing nearer. His breath caressing her throat, his fingers so very close to her skin. Her eyes flew open, to find no one there. She heard a soft laugh, barely audible over the silent noise of the house. She trudged back up the steps, and tried to sleep. When sleep finally came, it was restless. She tossed and turned, afraid of his infiltrating her dreams again. But, he didn't show. The rest of the week passed fairly quickly. Miranda would get little cold spells from time to time, but they seem to quickly pass, and she was resigned to not let them bother her. ************ Tuesday was upon her and she had nothing new. She was sifting through old notebooks trying to find something to read. Her mini-writer's block was really starting to affect her. As she sat at her table, she heard Lauren laughing. She turned to see her and Dean chatting against the wall. Their body posture indicated some heavy flirting going on. She chuckled to herself, and set her mind to finding something to read. As the reading started, she felt that odd chill yet again. It was enough to force her arms to curl near her body. She visibly frowned and glanced around the room. Most of the writers were listening to the current poet, except for one of the new ones. She recognized him as Dean. He happened to glance up at her, and she froze, as he smiled at her. Caught looking at him, she felt a flash of heat course through her. The heat slowly dissipated, when he went back to his writing. And that chill returned. The reading was another good evening. Miranda decided not to read, instead helping some others with their work. The highlight was Dean, reading a piece called Night. He drew a nice ovation from the crowd, and smiled softly at Miranda as he made his way down. As she packed up her things, Lauren came walking over. She had that smirk of one that is about start some trouble. She pulled Miranda aside, almost giggling with anticipation. "Hey...come with me. A bunch of us are heading over to Rapscallion's for a drink. I don't want to be the only femme." "Ohh, Lauren, it is kind of late." "Come on. Just fifteen minutes." Her smile was contagious, and Miranda nodded. "Fifteen minutes." She pulled open the heavy wood door to Rapscallion's and went inside. A young blonde girl politely asked about her party, and then guided her to the back. She followed the hostess through the maze of tables, and finally saw them. There were nine poets crammed around a small table. True to form, Lauren was the only woman, at least until now. She waved gaudily as Miranda made her way to the table. There were not any seats available, and she felt a pang of complete insecurity, but only for a second, as Dean rose. "Here, sit here..." He had backed away from his chair, and offered it to her. She almost flushed, and slowly took it. His hands looped over the back, and gently slid it into the table for her. He leaned against the wall behind them all, and simply waited for a chair nearby to become available. The talk was always about poetry, be it inspiration, or writing styles. Here, Miranda was at her best. There wasn't a subject she didn't know about, and she felt more confident talking about things she had intimate knowledge of. As the night grew deeper, some of the others had gradually left, leaving only Dean, Lauren and herself. Lauren excused herself for a moment, leaving the two alone as she went to the restroom. Dean smiled coyly, and chuckled. "At last, alone with you." Miranda flushed, and rolled her eyes, trying to remain in control. "Like you have been waiting for this all night." "As a matter of fact, I have. Although, I could listen to you talk about poetry all night long." Miranda blushed fiercely, and dropped her eyes, and quickly changed the subject. The two talked about a lot of small things....family, friends, careers. She found out that he was thirty years old and fairly secure financially. He made a nice amount of money during the late 1990's during the dot com explosion, and he invested carefully, saving a great deal that he poured into his own consulting firm. He had once been engaged, and called it off, and had remained a careful bachelor. During the talk, Miranda applied her professional eye to him, using the years of her human resources experience to gauge him. Whereas she had always thought her husband was manly, Dean had a rugged look to him. A former college athlete, he did stay in shape. He was lightly tanned, and had an easy-going smile and attitude about him, but his eyes were a very dark blue, and hypnotizing. His manners were that of the professional athletes she had seen visit hospitals - his stance and mannerisms said he could deal with anything, yet, sitting here, she felt he was acting like a teddy bear. He was content to play coy with her on many subjects, taking every opportunity to flirt with her. She had always thought she was not a good flirt, but she was enjoying herself immensely. He had a backpack sitting near his chair. Smiling at her, he reached down and extracted a manila envelope from the pack. Shiver Author's Note – This is based on ABC's General Hospital's romantic pairing of mob enforcer Jason Morgan and artist Elizabeth Webber. * * * * * Jason Morgan had always prided himself on being a strong man. But not tonight. Not with her. Especially when she was pressed against the hard plane of his chest wearing only a thin, skimpy dress as the warm summer night breeze caressed them with its sultry, wispy touch. Elizabeth moaned into his mouth and used her small hands to frame his face and bring him closer still. And as Jason obliged, parting her lips with his tongue and seeking immediate entrance, he was extremely thankful to the fact that relatively few people knew about Vista Point. He kissed her fully, he kissed her roughly, he kissed her as if he'd never get enough of her. She was warm and sweet, and he found himself wondering if she always tasted like raspberries. He drank her in like a man dying of thirst, drowning himself in her soft scent of vanilla and jasmine. And just when he was ready to pull back and release her from his demanding embrace, she reeled him right back in with a sultry murmur and a feather-light sigh. Elizabeth pouted when the cool air caressed her flushed skin and bee-stung lips – Jason had pulled away despite her best efforts. But his fingers remained fanned out along her jaw, tentatively stroking the lacy wisps of hair at her temples. Her body was tingling with energy and warmth, every place that he had touched alight with pleasant burning sensations. His forehead was pressed tenderly to hers and when she peeked up hesitantly at him, his eyes were still closed. She watched in wonder as his lips – just as red and ripe as hers – trembled while he breathed deeply and tried to slow his rapid pulse. With each second that passed, she could feel him detaching mentally. Each passing moment enabled him to put as much distance between them as possible, let him come up with an infinite amount of reasons for why the kiss had been wrong and a mistake. Even more time for him to formulate a way to tell her to keep her distance, and that it would be for the best. Elizabeth let out a shaky breath. No. She wouldn't let him do that – not again. After all that time of waffling back and forth, one tentative step and one debilitating slip, she wasn't about to let them lose the paramount connection they had just made. He had kissed her. With desire. With longing. With purpose. It wasn't like when she had kissed him, the first time their lips had ever met. She was hurting and in need of someone to set her emotions and body alike on fire. Jason had been with her and more than willing to play the part. But she knew that night would have been a mistake. If she had slept with him... She shivered at the thought. And what a thought it was! The vision of his strong hands all over her body, eliciting sensations she had all but forgotten; his mouth following the path of his able fingers, worshipping her body like she imagined few men would be able to; the idea of trailing her own hands over his naked body, the powerful muscles rippling and quivering under her touch. It was enough to make her cream her panties on the spot. No, she definitely wouldn't let him slip through her fingers tonight. Not after what had just happened between them. Because damn it, she wanted the chance to make love to him. Jason expelled a long breath, and with it came the willpower he needed to pull away completely. His heart clenched in his chest at the way she pouted at him, the way her eyes pleaded with him to move closer, not farther. But he couldn't do that. He couldn't place her in any more danger. It was a big enough gamble to be with her just now. His strong hand enclosed around her smaller one, their arms extended to maintain a connection even as he drew further away. She refused to let him go, and when she spoke it was almost more than he could take. "Jason." The muscles in his chest trembled. Before him, Elizabeth's lower lip quivered. He tried to loosen his grip on her hand, but she still held firm. "Jason, please." Tears gathered in her deep sapphire orbs, and Jason's heart nearly broke in two at the pain swimming therein. "Don't leave me – stay, Jason." "Elizabeth, I can't-" He saw a new strength seep into her even as he spoke, but he still wasn't prepared when she squeezed his hand and stepped up, closing the distance between them. "Yes, you can," she insisted. And then she kissed him. Jason's heart skipped two beats as her arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders and pulled him savagely down to accommodate her height. Even as his hands found her waist, the long fingers digging into the fabric and her soft skin underneath, Jason fought to rein his mind and body back in. "Elizabeth, we can't do this. I can't-" "Jason." Her voice was soft, drugged with desire, when she pulled back just enough to gaze openly and honestly into his eyes. "You asked me before what I wanted. My answer hasn't changed – I still want you." His eyes fluttered shut at those words; they were just one more reason for why he had to pull away. This attraction, this bond between them was dangerous for both of them. She was too close – too close to business, too close to the danger, too close to him. And he didn't her to get hurt, by the business or by him. "Elizabeth-" "But my reasons have changed, Jason," she whispered. "I don't want you because I need someone to take away my pain. I want you for you, Jason." His heart leapt up into his throat; she didn't mean that, did she? She couldn't. But with the way she was gazing back at him, an open book flipped right to the page he wanted to read, it was getting harder and harder to keep his defenses intact. "I want you, too, Elizabeth." It was the biggest admission he had ever made to her – biggest in the sense that it was the hardest to say aloud. Because saying it aloud made it real, immutable. He wanted her. He needed her. And that was terrifying because he had never wanted or needed anyone as badly as he did her. She transcended all the carefully constructed walls around his heart – maybe it was just that she held the only key. "I want you, too." "Then stay, Jason." Her whispered voice, full of excitement, made his head swim at the powerful request. "Stay with me." When she kissed him again, Jason didn't have the power to stop her. Nor did he have the power to stop himself. He was amazed at the power she had over him – one simple word, one simple touch, had him forgetting his own name. And Elizabeth seemed bent on taking advantage of every ounce of power she held over him – she was intent on driving him wild. Her delicate fingers traced figure-eights against the nape of his neck as her tongue outlined his bottom lip, both simultaneous actions immediately sending all the blood in his body rushing straight down south. Jason pulled her closer, tugging on her waist and roughly bringing her slight frame crashing against his sturdy one. She let out a soft yelp of surprise but soon took advantage of their proximity to tease him to the brink of insanity. His eyebrows shot up when she pressed against him, flattening her firm breasts against his chest. He could feel the nipples straining and hard against the wispy fabric of her desk. Holy hell, she wasn't even wearing a bra – a small bit of information that immediately had him hard. His hands skimmed up her waist to the bare skin of her back as he debated whether or not to put an end to this. But the debating soon proved impossible when she parted her legs and accepted his thick, jean-clad thigh between them. "Elizabeth." Good God, he didn't even sound like himself; desire had his voice husky and thick, drugged and cloudy. He knew what was happening; he knew it well from the pleasant hum, the carnal, primitive desire that had taken over his body. But he didn't know if she knew. Or if she wanted it. She answered his question as if she had been reading his mind. "Yes, Jason," she mewed into his mouth. "Here. Now." Her voice simply took his breath away, and for a minute Jason wasn't sure if he heard her right. "Are-Are you sure?" She pulled back and nodded seductively at him, her eyes smoldering with raw sexual need. "Right here." His mouth crashed against her plump, waiting lips as he threw every single doubt to the wind. The hell with it. He wanted her – there was no point in denying that. He had wanted her since before he left. And the knowledge that she wanted him as well was an instant aphrodisiac. His long fingers found the zipper located at the back of her dress, and Elizabeth fidgeted in his arms when they remained there. Jason was hesitant to pull it down, she realized as she sucked on his tongue. He needed some sort of signal from her – a signal that she meant what she had said, a signal that it was okay. The warm, moist summer air caressed his six-pack when Elizabeth pulled his blue t-shirt free from the waistband of his jeans. The next thing he knew, Elizabeth's hands were on his body, boldly exploring the defined muscles and sweeping long, broad strokes over his heated flesh. If that wasn't a signal, she didn't know what was. Jason's growl in her mouth drove Elizabeth to bolder moves. She pulled back and flashed him a saucy grin as she pushed his arms up and whisked the shirt right off his body. Stepping closer and maintaining eye contact with a panting Jason, she massaged and caressed every bit of flesh in her reach, running her fingers over the tight washboard abs, stroking his smooth pectoral muscles, and rubbing the peaks of his nipples between her thumb and index finger. Jason thought he'd come on the spot the instant she lowered her mouth to his skin, following the same path she had blazed before with her small hands. His own fingers fisted in her riot of dark waves when she rubbed his areola with the flat of her tongue before gently biting and nipping the peaks. He threw his head back on a groan when she moved up to his neck and blazed a searing trail up the column of his throat to his ear. There was a spot behind his lobe that had him growling her name in a deep, raw voice she had never heard him use and the warmth pooled at Elizabeth's center. Jason's fingers tugged at the zipper of her dress when Elizabeth's warm mouth closed around his earlobe. She sucked rhythmically, sending currents of awareness straight down to his already hard and straining member. Her tongue traced over the shell of his ear as her index finger traced a path from his navel down to the waistband of his jeans. Reaching the denim barrier, she promptly dislodged the button with an expert flick of her fingers, and she could feel Jason's laughter rumble under her hand. She grinned back at him even as she pulled down his zipper. "Something funny, Morgan?" He was about to reply when her tongue tickled his ear again, and this time her hand dragged itself from his navel to lower than he thought she'd go. Elizabeth chuckled, the sound low and husky, as her fingers stroked the light blonde hair low on his body. Jason swore – a long, dark streak of dirty four-lettered words that made Elizabeth blink. And that was when his strong fingers clenched in the fabric of her dress and he nearly stripped the material clear off her body in his haste to expose her soft, lush body to his probing hands. The light material bunched at her waist, exposing her creamy mounds to Jason's large hands. He stared down at her for a moment, mesmerized by her beauty. Elizabeth fidgeted nervously, an action not lost on Jason, who immediately looked up into her smoldering eyes. His hand found the generous swell of her pert mounds the instant his lips met hers in the gentlest of caresses. "You are so beautiful," he whispered, swiping her lip gently with the tip of his tongue. Elizabeth thought she'd faint away with anticipation when his hands dropped to the material at her waist, tugging it down over the curve of her hips. Her thighs were still parted over his leg, and Jason's body burned at the heat and wetness he felt even through the thickness of her denim. His surprise was apparent – as was his arousal – when he tugged the dress free and it fell to her ankles, revealing her completely naked body. Elizabeth's fingers skimmed his boxer-briefs, brushing under the band of elastic and pushing him toward the edge even as he gaped at her. "E-Elizabeth?" She grabbed his hand from where it had fallen at her waist and boldly led it down lower. "What? I was hot." His fingers skimmed her folds, and he wasn't surprised to find her wet and ready. "Clearly." She laughed and squirmed slightly, forcing his fingers in the direction she wanted him to go. Jason's chest trembled under her hands and the next thing Elizabeth knew, he had his arms around her waist and was pushing her back onto the wooden bench behind them. The backs of her knees crashed against the wood and Elizabeth would have lost her balance had Jason not held her steady, lowering her down gently on the bench. Her hands were already making quick work of tugging down his jeans, and his boxers came off with them. Another string of dirty words cut through the warm, dewy summer night as Elizabeth's small hand wrapped around Jason's shaft. The enforcer watched her eyes darken, the pupils nearly eclipsing the sapphire blues, and he couldn't suppress the low moan that escaped him when she squeezed gently. Elizabeth smirked and moved further down his engorged member, pressing her palm against his tip before using her index finger to trace a circle around it. Jason trembled under her hands, and the arms that he used to brace himself against the bench nearly buckled at the sensations she was causing. And she loved every minute of it – she loved that she could get him like this. Absolutely loved the fact that she had the power to drive him crazy until he was just a panting, trembling mess in her arms. Jason's lips were pressed to her pulse point, that one spot that drove her wild, as he buried his face in her neck while she continued to stroke him. Long strokes up and down his length, squeezes employing the lightest pressure, and smooth, tantalizing flicks had him nearly toppling over the edge until he managed to wrestle a hand down and grab her wrist. Elizabeth's eyes widened, bright in the moonlight. He could see her lips part to form a question, so he captured them in a scorching kiss instead. When he had fairly ravaged her mouth, he pulled back just enough to whisper raggedly, "That's enough. Any more and I'll embarrass us both by coming on the spot." Elizabeth's uncertainty bled away into eager anticipation which gave way to a look of pure satisfaction and need when Jason slowly inserted a finger into her slick folds. Her nails dug into the strong muscles of his back, leaving red crescents in their wake, and he could feel her muscles clamp down tightly around him. He worked her gently, and it wasn't long before he inserted another finger. Elizabeth's small hands fisted roughly in his hair, and Jason felt a primal satisfaction that he had driven her to this state of raw need. She had never looked more beautiful – her skin was flushed a very pretty red, her lips were parted and glistening as she struggled to draw in a controlled breath, and her eyes were as dark as the night and as bright as the stars. He could feel her fighting the sensations, struggling to stay rooted, and he found her nub and gently stroked it as his lips brushed against her delicate ear. "That's it, Elizabeth," he coaxed, rubbing her gently and smiling into her hair when her narrow hips bucked off the wood. "That's it, baby – just let it go." She came instantly at the sound of his silky voice, and she came hard and fast. The breath was nearly sucked out of Jason's body when he felt her close tightly around his fingers, and the sensation in his own body was so intense that he couldn't even imagine what it would feel like to actually be inside her when she came. He was kissing her neck softly when she floated back down, and his large hand was molded to the perfect curves of her breasts. Barely having the energy to move, Elizabeth managed to lift her head up and stare at him in wonder and awe. "That was incredible." It was a breathy whisper, hushed and sensual in the dewy air, and it drove all rational thought from Jason's mind with his singular urge to be inside her and be able to join her as they both raced toward sexual bliss. He barely had the presence of mind to reach down to his jeans where they had fallen on the ground and hastily withdraw a condom from his wallet. He had straightened to join her, looming over her petite, nymph-like body when Elizabeth's small fingers reached for the aluminum package. "Let me." It was a simple request, and he'd be damned if he could refuse any plea that came from that full mouth. So Jason was forced to watch, nearly beside himself with anticipation and need, as his sweet Elizabeth delicately fingered the small packet before raising it to her mouth and ripping it open with her teeth. She laughed when he cursed a blue streak, clearly enjoying his torment as she pulled the rubber out with her pearly whites. Jason didn't know if he'd even make it until he was inside her – the way her fingers brushed his hard length as she sheathed him was the most torturous pleasure he had ever known. They were both playing with fire here, he knew that much, and it was threatening to consume them both. "If you want me to stop, say the word," he whispered. She looked up at him, eyes smoldering like coals in the inky darkness, but she didn't say a single word. Instead, her small hands found his waist as she began to gently guide his hips down. The blood whistled through his veins when the tip of his shaft parted her folds and entered her warm caverns – but that was when Elizabeth tested his word. Placing one hand against the hard muscles of his chest, she tried to quell her trembling long enough to whisper a single word. "Stop." Jason stared down at her, bewildered, and was about to pull out when she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a mind-blowing kiss. One soft hand traveled down his body, stroking him from his shoulders and blazing a path all the way down to where they were connected. Then she pushed him again, forcing him to withdraw completely. But by now, Jason understood what she was doing, and it drove him completely wild with anticipation. His hands, his mouth, were all over his body as he tortured her like she had tortured him, begging permission to enter once again. Elizabeth relented and Jason was able to push himself in a little deeper than previously before she once again stopped him and forced him to pull out. Her laughter rustled through the night air, husky with desperation and pure intoxication of the senses, when he cursed some more. He was hovering above her, his tip tracing her folds, and she soon found the tables turned as he drove her to the brink. Not wanting to go over again without him, Elizabeth reached down and squeezed his length gently three times before placing her hands on his hips and pulling as he pushed himself deep inside her. The penetration was incredible, intense beyond words, and the power of it held both of them still, enraptured and awed. Elizabeth's warmth burned him to the core as her walls stretched to accommodate his girth, and Jason synchronized his breathing with hers, not missing the way Elizabeth's eyes soon glazed over with pleasure at the simple technique. She held him in place with the wonderment in her dark eyes, sparkling brighter than the North Star, and it was a while before Jason even thought to move. When he tried to, Elizabeth held him still and pulled him down for another deep, smoldering kiss that left him light-headed. Shiver When she turned him loose, it was all over. Jason came harder and faster than he ever had before, exploding his love into her tight caverns and crying out as he fell fast. But Elizabeth was right there with him, engulfed in the same ring of fire that left their bodies exhausted and their appetites fulfilled as they both spun off the brink. When her eyes fluttered open, Elizabeth found herself staring up at the stars, twinkling like little diamonds in the velvety backdrop of the inky black sky. Jason's head was nestled against her chest, his even breath fanning out, warm and moist, over her breasts. His hands were on her hips, and her body hummed as his callused thumbs massaged gentle circles over the rose-petal-soft skin there. His body was pressed against hers, and Jason would have lifted himself up to avoid crushing her had not Elizabeth clasped her hands tightly at the small of his back. He was still inside her and felt no inclination whatsoever to pull out. Making love to her, though not exactly in the same setting as he had thought of, was even more mind-blowing than he had ever imagined. And it was more addictive than he had ever dreamed of. His eyes fell shut when her fingers began to trace those same figure-eights at his nape. Those hands were going to be the death of him. Amusement kicked up the corner of his mouth. But what a way to go. For all that he knew about Elizabeth Webber, he certainly had never inferred what type of lover she truly was. He had always imagined her to be slightly timid, shy even, and more content to let him lead the way. But that wasn't so at all. A greedy smirk rose to his lips. No, the woman definitely had her own moves – and many more, he was sure of it. All of which she would be trying on him. When he chuckled, she felt the sound rumble through her own body. Curious, Elizabeth hooked her fingers under his chin in an attempt to get him to look at her. When he did, she was almost taken aback by the smug look in his still-smoldering cerulean orbs. "What?" she asked in a hesitant, breathy whisper. He was still smirking at her. "Nothing. I just never pegged you as the dominating type." She grinned back, wrapping his tousled golden spikes around her fingers as she searched for the right words. "Did you not appreciate my...guidance, Morgan?" A grin, slow and sexy and just a little crooked, took command of his handsome features. "No, I did. I was just thinking that if you wanted to be the dominatrix, we could go buy the leather ensemble and go from there." Her mouth fell open with surprise and amusement at his bold words, and she was soon laughing as she stroked the light hairs at his temple. "Naughty. You're just naughty. But we can try that next time." Jason grinned and settled back down against her. "Remind me to thank Gavin," he muttered against her porcelain skin which still retained a sexy little flush. Elizabeth giggled. She had already thanked Gavin profusely before he made the call to Jason and asked him to meet "someone" at Vista Point for an important meeting. And she had been incredibly surprised that Jason bought it without question and had actually showed. His breathing was even as she continued to stroke his hair, and Elizabeth shifted her shoulder blades against the wooden bench, looking up at the dark sky. "You know," Jason's eyes flew open at the sound of her soft voice, "I've never done this outside before." He was treated to a saucy smile when he lifted his head to meet her gaze. "I guess you just bring out the bold side of me." "And you bring out the exhibitionist in me," he grinned back as he lowered his lips to engage hers in a sweet liplock. He could feel her smile against his mouth and quirked a brow at her. "Woman, that's not a good thing. Because now I'm going to want you everywhere, regardless of whether we're in public or not." Her smile was brilliant and mischievous. "From where I'm...lying, that doesn't seem like too bad of a proposition." Jason could feel himself getting hard all over again when she traced his lips with the velvety pad of her index finger. "You know, I think I've got the bug for riding." His brow furrowed into a deep V. "Riding?" Elizabeth lifted a slender brow back in reply. "And I'm not talking about the bike, either." Shiver Thanks to Zex for editing this. I wrote this for one person, and one person only. As long as she's happy, which I know she will be, I'm happy with the response to it. This is a step away from my other stuff, and not something I'm used to writing, so I hope you like it. For Jess, my texting little muse on those lonely nights after work. Shiver Jess tousled her dark hair and peered out the window at heavy clouds, swollen with rain. A flash of lightning split the sky and for a second the entire yard was as bright as day. A figure stood staring up at her, near the edge of her vision, standing beside a tree in the distance. She saw him only for a split second, a moment before the darkness enveloped them both. Curious, she peered closer at where she thought she had seen the figure to have been, waiting for another lightning strike. She gasped and backed up away from the window, covering her mouth as the world outside her window brightened again. The figured had moved again, impossibly fast, and closer to the house. She moved towards the closet and reached inside, grasping for the cold, comforting metal of the softball bat that she knew was there. Shivering uncontrollably, she forced herself forwards toward the window again. As she inched forward, she wondered if she should call someone. Her roommate was out with a date, and her boyfriend was out with his friends. She shivered again and reached for the phone, but there was only silence on the other end. Cursing to herself, she peered out the window again as another flash lit the exterior. He was closer now, close enough to make out a face, had the light not faded so quickly. She held the phone to her ear again, listening for the dial tone. She was answered by only silence however, as she surmised the storm must have knocked out the line. She shivered uncontrollably again, peering out the window and looking for the mysterious figure. Rain drops surrounding the house was the only sound she heard, and through the chill of the air, she saw that storm was moving off. The lightning flashed again, but she saw no trace of the mysterious stranger. Shaking her head, she dismissed the entire thing as paranoia and backed away from the window, freezing immediately as she sensed someone behind her. Closing her eyes in fear, she tightened her grip on the softball bat as she felt warm breath on the back of her neck. Her heart felt like it was going to beat through her chest. She felt the warm breath of the stranger and could hear him breathing behind her. Fear gripped her as she felt the stranger pulling the bat from her grasp. A tear ran down her cheek, slowly making the journey down to her chin, then under her neck and down her cleavage. Several minutes seemed to pass as she stood shivering, frozen with terror as the stranger stood silently behind her. She sensed him moving finally, and felt something push at the back of her head, into her hair, then heard him inhale deeply, drawing in her scent. Another tear worked its way down as she stood quietly, unmoving, frozen in place, her mind racing at what, if anything, she should do. The figure behind her inhaled deeply again, and she shivered in shear fear once more. Finally, the figure broke the silence. Leaning in very close to her ear, his voice was deep, resonant, and terrifying. "Don't... move..." he said slowly. His voice pierced through the darkness, shattering the veil around them, causing her to shiver uncontrollably. A few moments passed and she felt him move closer to her. "Please don't hurt me," she said, a cry of fear punctuating her sudden outburst. He ignored her, and continued to inhale her scent deeply. She felt a hand on one shoulder and then the other. And then, ever so softly, she felt a soft wind cross the flesh between her neck and shoulder. She closed her eyes and shivered uncontrollably again as the stranger blew a breath softly across her skin. He moved across her back and to her other shoulder, blowing softly on the skin exposed by her night shirt. There were a few moments of silence followed by a gasp as she felt something warm and soft on her skin. 'Lips,' she thought, and winced, wanting to scream and run, but feeling something holding her in place. The stranger gently brushed his lips softly across her skin, raising tiny hairs across it as they passed. She felt him move back across her back and onto her other shoulder, then felt his hand moving from there to pull the thin strap of her nightie with it. "Please..." she whispered. "Don't... move..." he said again, and fell silent, moving his warm lips back to kissing her neck and back, as she shivered beneath them. Jess didn't know what to do. For some reason, her body wouldn't move, though she was screaming for it to do so. The stranger wasn't violent, and though she was still terrified, she had no way of knowing whether her life was in danger or not. His hand twirled into the strap of her nightie and gently pulled it all the way off her shoulder, drawing the tiny hairs along her upper arm with it and causing another shiver to shoot across her body. He moved his lips along her collar bone, warm and soft, gently sucking and tenderly biting towards her shoulder, across her warm skin and finally to her arm where his hand was. Moving back across, he started the other way, kissing and tenderly sucking, biting his way across her shoulders, several times. Each little kiss drawing a shiver from her. She was still terrified, but felt her body begin to betray her. She was more scared than she'd ever been in her life, but the kisses the stranger was coating her shoulders and back with felt so good. The two conflicting emotions terrified, but excited her at the same time. She felt the tiny hairs raise all over her body as he gently massaged the shoulder muscles and back as he tenderly bit her warm flesh. He worked his way down, slowly pulling the top of her night gown down, kissing his way down her back, down her arms as he slowly stripped her top off, nibbling and biting, kisses being draped across her soft skin. She shivered again and felt him fall to his knees behind her, his hands on her hips as the top of the night gown fell down around them, her naked breasts exposed to the cool air, the sound of dripping water still filling the room from outside. He kissed the small of her back, drawing yet another shiver as she stood before him, and she felt his hands work her free of her top, and let it fall to the ground around her feet. He worked his lips across her back and finally to her hip, then moved slowly downwards across the sides of her legs, pausing to pull a finger or two of hers into his warm mouth, where his tongue gently caressed each of the digits that were hanging next to his head. Pulling each finger into his mouth, he let her hand fall back to her side and moved back to her buttocks, tenderly kissing and biting each. Shivering softly, she failed to hold completely still as he moved to the other side. He kissed the tops of her buttocks, gently biting every few centimeters, causing tiny hairs to rise beneath his touch. Moving slowly down until he got to the back of her thigh, he slowly pulled up on her foot, kissing tenderly as he slowly moved lower, finally hitting the back of her knee and then her calf, followed by the bottom of her foot. Repeating the process on her other leg and taking his time with each, he caressed and kissed, bit and licked each spot of her body. He slowly drew in each of her toes, slightly tickling the bottom of her foot as she stood shivering in the chill. As he withdrew the last toe from his mouth, he began the slow ascent back up her body, kissing each part as he went. Finally, reaching the apex of his climb, he turned her around slowly, and leaned in close to her ear. "Close your eyes." he said quietly, his deep voice filling the room like a cannon shot. She squeezed her eyes quickly shut, as she felt his hand pulling at her shoulder, slowly turning her to himself. She was keenly aware of her nudity, but the fear and excitement of the experience was overriding the fear she was feeling. She was terrified, but excited. Turned on and quaking in fear at the same time. She could feel his eyes roaming over her naked form, clad only in her tiny panties. The thought of this stranger eyeing her, wantonly, knowing full well what he was looking at, scared and excited her all at the same time and caused her to shiver all over once again. She heard him shuffling forward, felt his hands on her shoulders again followed by his lips. Those warm soft, inviting lips. She suddenly realized that this was a stranger, and fear shot back into her, but followed immediately by the feeling of warmth emanating from his lips, drawing her deeper into the moment. He moved down her to her hips and placed both hands on them, pulling her to him as began his kissing descent down her torso. "God... please..." she whispered, fear gripping her again as she felt his lips moving towards her breasts, as she felt a single tear fall from her eye. Suddenly he stood, moving very close to her face. For an instant, her body quaked in terror. The she felt warmth on her cheek, where the tear had been slowly descending, and realized his lips had kissed it away, the warmth stealing the chill from the tear trail. Then he was on his way back down her body again, lips and tongue, teeth leading the way, biting and nibbling, kissing and sucking at her skin, causing shiver after shiver to echo across her body. Finally, he reached her breasts and immediately drew one of them into his hand, pulling the other over and cupping it, slowly blowing across it with his lips. Then she felt nothing but warmth, and she knew his mouth was on it, gently kissing. Then came his teeth, gently nibbling and working her nipple, as finally it entered the strangers mouth. The feeling over this strangers mouth suckling at her breast, his teeth and tongue gently rolling it around his mouth, caused it to swell. Terrified, she suddenly felt a moment of shame. A stranger, suckling on her, and her, as a result, being turned on by his advances. The feeling passed quickly and was replaced with slowly growing pleasure as he rolled the nipple around on his tongue, and she felt it harden further, swelling as he sucked it deeper into his mouth. Suddenly it was free and the cold air of the room chilled it enticingly, drawing it even more erect, then moved to the other breast, gently nibbling and fondling, taking his slow deliberate time, as if he had eons to dedicate to sucking on every inch of skin. Soon he finished with both breasts and moved lower, causing the muscles of her stomach to tighten and jump as he first blew across, and then kissed them, running his tongue across the flexing and un-flexing muscles as she shivered visibly. Still terrified and excited at the same time. He moved lower, falling to his knees and nibbled and kissed at her hips, both hands grasping her tightly, but not painfully, just as lovers might embrace. She shivered again as she felt him bite at the edge of her silken panties, slowly working them down with his teeth as she stood shaking, naked before him. He moved from one side to the other, pulling slowly down on her panties, moving them down her body until he was at her knees, then her ankles, where they finally dropped to the floor. He was back up at her waist then, slowly kissing around her hips, slowly shuffling his body closer. Soon he'd worked to her inner thigh, pushing it out with one hand, and gently pushing on the other until she began to feel herself move lower and lower, closer and closer to the warm lips and tongue that had been moving across her body. She shivered again, unable to control the excitement and fear that gripped her, and suddenly felt something warm and soft probing her. She gasped, partly in surprise and partly in fear, but also in pleasure as the warm wet muscle pushed into her womanhood. The stranger was sitting down, both of his hands on her buttocks as she bent her knees and lowered herself onto his face. She opened her eyes, but the room was too dark and all she saw was faint likeness of his eyes peering back up at her. She moaned loudly as she felt him nibbling at her, his tongue warm and muscular, knowing just where to touch and to play. His powerful hands held her weight, almost effortlessly it seemed as her knees gave way and she fell completely onto his lips, his tongue pushing deep into her. "Oh... God... " she said, more pleasure than fear in her voice now. He remained in that position for a few minutes, softly sucking. Licking, and gently biting at her most private parts for what seemed an eternity. She felt him moving finally, and he ducked underneath her, his tongue seeming to never leave her pussy. As he turned around beneath her, she felt him push his tongue into the crack of her ass, felt the warm softness tickle her anus and she shivered again. She remembered her boyfriend and shivered in fear, but another thought quickly entered her head and she wondered if she'd ever been this turned on by him before. The thought disgusted, but excited her all at once. The stranger moved his hands to the front and continued to gently tongue her ass. She felt him pull his tongue out of her and felt him stand, lifting her in the process, almost effortlessly, as if she weighed less than a feather. He laid her on her bed and stood next to it, silently peering down at her in the darkness. She lay still as he'd said earlier, suddenly realizing that she was waiting for his command, as a slave might a master. The thought scared her, but was quickly followed by excitement. Slowly, he leaned over, drawing one leg across her chest and straddled her. She felt him above her, and knew that this stranger had his cock dangerously close to her face. He didn't speak a word, but she felt something soft, yet firm, brush across her lips, and knew that he was rubbing his cock across her lips. She shivered in fear once more, unsure of how to proceed, yet something within her pushed her to gently opened her mouth offer him her tongue. In response, the stranger slowly ran the tip of his cock across her tongue and lips, his hands on either side of her head. She lay quiet, her eyes closed, as this intriguing stranger straddled her chest, his cock gently probing at her mouth, seemingly searching for a way in. She obliged, something within her, willing her mouth to open. Shivering in fear, she felt the tip of his cock push into her mouth, warm and hard, yet soft against her lips and she involuntarily began to suck, excitement taking over as she began to move quicker and quicker. She felt him pulling against her head and felt him move higher on the bed, his cock was pointed straight into her mouth. He was big, much bigger than her boyfriend, she thought, and a feeling of disgust washed over her, but immediately followed by excitement. She felt so dirty, so wrong doing what he willed, with no resistance. But she was incredibly turned on by the impurity of the moment. She wanted him to take her, she knew that now, but the feeling was suddenly replaced with fear, but then immediately returned to lust. She shivered again and felt him pull on her head, drawing his cock into her mouth until the tip pushed against her throat. She inhaled deeply as he pulled out briefly, and then pushed back in against the back of her throat, and she found herself wanting him to push harder, the idea causing her to feel afraid and disgusted again, but it was quickly replaced by lust. She reached around to grab both sides of his hips to pull against them. With the act, she was suddenly disgusted with herself, but the contradiction of emotions inside her was turning her on more than she had ever been before and she pulled harder, suppressing a gag as he pushed into her throat. Suddenly pulling out, he let her breathe. She moaned as he pulled free, suddenly feeling the need to have him back inside her, and she wondered where this side of her had come from. She knew she should be terrified, she should have tried to get away, but something about him was comforting, something inside that comfort had stopped her. She felt so naughty, such a slut, and felt her pussy getting so very lusciously wet. He pulled against her head again and pushed into her throat, holding her there a few seconds before pulling out again, and then back in, each time causing her to get more and more aroused, and her pussy to get wetter and wetter. He growled audibly and pulled out, turning around he grasped her by the thighs. She knew then he was determined to have her, and knew she couldn't, and didn't want to stop him. She moaned as he pulled her legs apart, lifting her off the bed and to him. "Look at me." he said lowly, almost in a growl. She shook her head and he repeated, "Look at me," more forcefully. Finally, she slowly began to open her eyes, and saw his face for the first time. He was handsome, looked about her age, but there was something odd about him. Something about his eyes, so deep and pure, nothing evil about him, she thought. "Tell me you want it." he said softly, his deep voice rumbling directly into her, causing her to get even wetter. Did she really want him? Was it just the insanity of the moment, the culmination of emotions that he'd forced upon her? She shivered uncontrollably again as she heard someone say, "I want you." suddenly realizing that it was her own voice, and that she really did want him after all. He kissed her fully on the lips, as he pushed his cock deep into her, causing her to moan as she began to return his kiss, her arms slowly moving to encircle his body, her legs following and wrapping around his muscular hips as he thrust gently into her, his cock burying itself in her and pushing slowly in and pulling out. She moaned loudly, her mind a sea of conflicting emotions, fear, anger, pleasure, happiness, lust... everything pushed the excitement higher, and she began to orgasm almost instantly. Everything going hazy as her pussy tightened around his slowly thrusting cock. He began to slowly pick up speed, thrusting in and out completely, every inch forcing her higher and higher into orgasmic bliss, the entire length emerging and plunging deep back into her, her pussy still quivering and contracting as the orgasm rocked through her. It wasn't stopping she realized, as he continued to slowly pick up speed. His cock felt like a lightning rod had been shoved into her, every cell that it touched lit up in pure pleasure, every movement he made caused her orgasm to squeeze him tighter and tighter until it felt like she was going to pass out. Still he thrust into her as she clawed at his back, digging her nails into it as he continued to thrust into her. She felt him begin to come as her own orgasm hit a new plateau. She finally blacked out as her head throbbed in pleasure, every muscle in her body contracting as he shot his warm load into her. She groaned in ecstasy a final time as her orgasm finally released her, and she felt sleep beginning to overtake her. The last thing she saw before all was over, was his dark mysterious eyes staring at her from above, and his smile. She awoke with a start, sitting upright in bed. It was dawn. She peered around her room, but saw no sign of the stranger. She stood and went to the window, peered out but seeing nothing of the stranger. Scratched her head, she went to sit on the edge of her bed. "Was it a dream?" she asked herself out loud. She drew a hand up to wipe the sleep from her eye, then stopped. Peering at the image in the mirror, she blinked and stood. Moving closer to stare at the image. Something was different, 'her eyes' she suddenly realized. Where they had been the deepest emerald green, they were now the darkest color she'd seen, the same mysterious eyes she'd seen last night. In the stranger. Shiver She woke splayed out on the bed. Her thighs were soaked again, and her fingers glistening from being between her legs. And Kyle was sitting on the edge of the bed. "Who is Dean?" She looked down at the mess between her legs on the mattress. Taking a deep breath, she told him everything that had taken place the last couple of days. He listened carefully, and sat for a moment. "So, you are telling me that you are not sleeping with him, just dreaming?" She nodded, her head downcast. "And you are a bit nervous, because you don't know how to break this so-called spell?" "I just feel like I don't have any control. Next Tuesday is our next reading, and I have no idea what I'll be feeling when he reads about me." "I know this may sound weird, but maybe you should try to write about him. If you wrote about him, maybe it will help you gain some semblance of control in this sordid affair. I don't know, I don't have your thoughts, I wouldn't be able to know that someone was writing about me, even if they told me." Miranda looked into his eyes. Kyle was hurt, but she knew he loved her. Maybe that is all she needed. He took to cleaning the bed as she cleaned herself up. Exiting the bathroom, he patted her side of the bed, and she cuddled up next to him. Closing her eyes, she was confident that Dean would not visit again. *********** Miranda made it to Luciano's, a nice little bistro on Virginia, slightly early. The lunch crowd here was normally loud and boisterous, and a perfect setting for her meeting with Lauren. The host, a tall college kid with deep brown eyes, smiled dutifully as he showed Miranda to her table. As he pushed her chair in for her, the waitress came to the table. "Something to drink while you wait for the rest of your party?" "Just an iced tea, thanks." The waitress nodded and smiled, and left the table. Miranda let her eyes wander over the men in various places around the restaurant. There was a large cross section of men here - business men conducting lunch deals, construction workers, college students. She reclined and smiled as the waitress returned with her iced tea. Reaching for a packet of sugar, she shook it as she heard the buzz in the place quiet. The first thing that went through her head was: Lauren. She turned to see her friend smiling and peering around. Lauren's face lit up when she made eye contact with her. Miranda noticed most of the men turning to get a better look at her friend. Although they were similar in personality, they were polar opposites in regards to looks. Lauren was tall and blonde, with shoulder length hair that had loopy curls that seemed to roll on forever. Her eyes were big and blue, and maintained an innocent and coquettish attitude, despite her real intentions. Her body was a stark contrast also, with hard, long lean legs, and big pillowy breasts that she loved to show off. Miranda was the opposite - short and petite, with long raven black hair, and dark almond shaped eyes. She was pretty, but next to someone like Lauren, she seemed to fade away. Lauren sat down, acting oblivious to the gazes that rained down upon her, and smiled at her friend. "What's going on babe?" Miranda smiled weakly, and her eyes dropped to her iced tea. "Wow, this must be bad.....talk to me, Randi." Miranda chuckled at the little nickname Lauren had for her, and sighed again. She took a deep breath, and looked at her friend. If anyone knew what she was going through, it would be Lauren. The running joke between them was not Lauren's flavor of the week, it was her flavor of the day. Lauren had one bad relationship years ago, and to combat that, she simply enjoyed the physical aspect of men, and nothing more, relying on her girlfriends to help her through her emotional peaks and valleys. They had met at a poetry reading, and after talking for a while, found they had a lot in common. They became friends, and over the years, had formed a great friendship. Where as Miranda found love and trust in Kyle, and generally loved men, Lauren just enjoyed men for sex, and would frequently boot them out after the fact. "Well, you know that new poet that everyone is talking about?" Lauren's eyes went out of focus for a second, as she tried conjuring up his image. "Wait....which one? The tall skinny guy with black hair, the one that smokes those nasty cigarettes?" "No, the other one. The...." Lauren's eyeballs almost clicked as they can back into focus. A small smile began to creep across her lips. "The blond? Don't tell me it is the blond.....crap, what is his name? Dan?" "Dean." Her voice was almost a whisper, and Lauren started laughing. "Why be embarrassed? He is gorgeous. We have had a couple of nice little talks." "You have?" Lauren nodding while reaching for a breadstick, munching away as she answered. "Yep. That man is a world class flirt. He could have led me all around that night, but didn't seem interested. Said he already had a muse. Fucking tease." They both giggled, and suddenly Miranda got serious. "I have a problem Lauren." "Yeah? What is it?" Miranda's voice lowered, to the point where Lauren had to lean forward to catch what she was saying. "His poems are about me." Lauren was taking a drink, and abruptly stopped. Miranda fiddled with her napkin, her face flushed red as her friend took everything in. "So, you are the muse? So, the poem "Night" was for you? About you?" Miranda nodded, and Lauren slumped back into her chair. "Wow. I am absolutely speechless Randi....I don't know what to say." "He told me that he has long admired my work - it was a fluke that he was here, that he even met me. He told me that my works, and that I, inspire his work. And you know as a poet that is all you want. To just affect one person takes my breath away." Lauren nodded and her eyes went back out of focus as she recalled the poetry. Miranda waited a minute, letting her friend digest this, before pulling some papers out of bag. She laid them on the table in front of Lauren. "What are these?" "He writes short stories. As good as a poet as he might be, he is better as a writer." Lauren scanned through the pages, and after reading just one page, put them back down. She looked at Miranda, almost grinning with excitement. "It seems your friend has quite the crush on you, babe." "I really hate to say this, but, he is bringing out things I have not felt in a while. I mean, I am completely happy, but, is it wrong for me to want more?" Lauren shook her head, but it was Miranda that continued. "And there is more. The other night, after the reading,, we were just chatting, and he told me that he had written a new poem for me the night before. That night, I remember having this distinct chill about me.....like I could feel his writing. That can't be, can it?" Lauren thought for a moment, as the waitress came over to refill her water. She waited until she was gone again, then leaned in closer. "You can't be serious, can you?" "I don't know what else to think." Their table only heard the din of the others in the dining room. Both women sat there contemplating what was said in silence. "Miranda, your mind is obviously playing some kind of trick on you. You know that simply cannot be." "I don't know. It might be possible to feel something like that. I am in just such a weird place, that's all." Lauren nodded again, as a group of guys made their way past their table. She gazed at them, and then looked at Miranda. A slow smile came over her lips, and she leaned forward. "You think he is into your head that deep, do you?" Miranda nodded, and Lauren went on. "Write about him." "What?" "When I was with Michael, my heart would skip a beat when he was around, and break when he was gone. That need for him grew tenfold when I couldn't be with him. It was an ever-present ache. When he was with me, it was a dull throb. But, when Michael would leave, and I was alone, the need would turn into something all-consuming. It was then I wrote." "Yes, but..." "But nothing, Randi. You have to get a hold of this. He may be a nice guy, but that still doesn't control your feelings." She nodded, realizing her friend was right. As they both dug through their purses to pay for their meals, Miranda noticed a couple of guys gazing over her friend. She slid alongside her friend and whispered to her. "See? That is why I feel so awkward. Guys like Dean don't go after women like me. They chase women like you." Lauren leaned down, a smirk covering her face. "I want him to chase me. Maybe he likes your mind more?" Miranda shrugged as she left the restaurant. Lauren kissed her cheek, and gave her a big hug, and just whispered into her ear. "Open your mind, and write about him." She got home, and there was a note on the table. "M - I took the kids to my mom's, and I have the card game tonight. I know you have things to work out, and you feel the need to be alone. If there is anything you need, please don't hesitate to call me. Love - K" She sighed happily. She went upstairs and stripped off her work clothes, and threw on a pair of sweats, with a sweatshirt. Bounding downstairs, she took off outside, and took a long jog around her block, breathing in the cool air that surrounded her. Upon getting back to her house, she walked into the office and stretched out. Her hands reached up as she stretched her lithe body. Slowly walking to her desk, she sat down in her leather chair, and sprawled. She thought of what Lauren had told her. "But, when Michael would leave, and I was alone, the need would turn into something all consuming. It was then I wrote." Her husband's words echoed in her brain also. "If you wrote about him, maybe it will help you gain some semblance of control in this sordid affair." Her chair creaked as she reclined. Her writer's block couldn't be traced to this, but it was not having a positive affect on her either. Maybe her friend was right. Maybe by thinking of him, she could possibly purge whatever demons hung over her. She stared outside, gazing over the snow. She closed her eyes and saw him. Her mind's eye poured over him. His obvious physical attributes: the broad chest, his thick arms, lightly tanned skin. His eyes, deep and soft, forever boring into her. His hair, blond, gleaming as it picked up rays of light. She thought of the less tangible things. The powdery scent of his cologne wafting to her. His mind, the poetry, the things he had written for her. So many topics to explore. She selected one, and closed her eyes again; picturing it from every side she could think of. Upon opening her eyes again, her notebook began to capture her thoughts as her pencil raced across it. The only sound in the room was the paper imprisoning her feelings. She wrote for a solid five minutes, a torrential outpouring of her view. She laid her pencil down and reviewed her work, reading it twice before smiling and closing her notebook. She caressed the well-worn leather cover, as she might have drawn her fingers over his skin. And for a split second, she thought she felt it shiver...