This last week I submitted my newest story, Valentine Next Door. Inspired by a submission call for valentine’s cougar stories, tells the story of Miranda Valentine the hot widow next door, and Jeremy Callahan, the boy that’s lived next door to her for years and loved her just as long. Now back, and an adult, he intends to go after what he wants. And all he wants is Miranda Valentine.
This story came to me very suddenly. But the second Miranda and Jeremy started telling me their story I had no choice but to listen. Jeremy was just so insistent on what he wanted, with me and Miranda and I couldn’t deny him. Even with everything else I had going on these last few months, and it’s been a lot (I write another blog post about that soon).
Here’s one of my favorite interactions between the two of them, just to wet your whistle a bit.
"Sure." He smiled, leaning up and grabbing the items from her. "It's nice to be useful. Even with this." He knocked on his leg. The loud thump of a fist on plaster filled the room.
Miranda sat on the opposite end of the couch, waiting patiently while he jabbed the corkscrew into the cork and twisted it out, even as it made her twitchy and achy. She watched him turn the corkscrew in the bottle. A sudden ache blooming between her legs at the twirl of the device in his hand, the triumph way he pulled the cork from the long thin neck. She clamped her thighs together, hoping to stem the sensation before it traveled any further.
"That's probably been the hardest part of being injured. Having to ask for help." He poured the thick red wine into one of the glasses. When the goblet was half way full he switched to other. "I guess I'm not very good at it." Once both goblets were filled to the midpoint, he handed her one and placed the wine bottle on the table.
She took a sip of the dry merlot. "Just like every other man." She hid her smirk behind her glass, but from Jeremy's returned smile he didn't mind the slight dig.
"I guess that's true." He sipped from his own glass, wrapping his hand around the glass with such a firm touch. What else he could do with those hands, how strong or how soft might his grip be.
"How did you get hurt anyway?" Best to keep focused on something besides Jeremy’s mouth pressed against the glass.
Jeremy looked down at the cast over his leg, "Do you promise not to laugh at me?"
She nodded, turning toward him, shifting her focus to him completely. She twisted into the couch cushions, sliding her stocking feet beneath her.
"I slipped on a pile of Rhino dung."
She chuckled, slapping her hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. She couldn't help it. The image of him sliding backwards in a giant pile of poop was too funny not to laugh.
"Hey," he yelled, though his face didn't hold any true anger. Instead he smiled with her. "You promised not to laugh."
"You're right." She snorted, placing the glass of wine down on the coffee table before she spilled it over the floor. "I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting a story like that." She wiped at her eyes, a bit of moisture gathering along the lashes. "How exactly does one break his leg by stepping in rhino dung?"
He smirked, bringing the wine glass to his lips and taking a sip. "I was trying to take a picture of a momma rhino and her calf cuddling. People love pictures of animal mother and babies, especially exotic ones. I wasn't paying attention to where I walk. I stepped backwards, slipped on the pile and my leg ended up underneath bent the wrong way."
She erupted in another fit of chuckles. "I'm sorry." She brushed the tears back. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had such a good laugh.”
She reached out, touching his arm without even a thought. He glanced down, staring at where her skin met his. Then his eyes traveled back up to hers. For a second they just looked at each other. Arches of heat passed between them and her stomach fluttered.
"It’s okay," he whispered, his chocolate brown eyes gazing into hers. So deep and sweet, she almost believed she could drown in them. And what a way to go. "I don't mind too much."
His lips were so close she could almost feel them on her skin, the soft brush
against her own mouth, his tongue caressing her own. It'd been so long since she'd been kissed. So long since anyone had looked at her with as much heat and lust as Jeremy was now.
Not since Leo. Not since her dead husband.
She pulled her hand back, glancing away. She was on dangerous ground. She could feel it. She had to bring the conversation back to a safer topic. Much safer.
I’ll let you all know once I know what’s going on with this work, when it finds its home and where. But for now, I’m just so thrilled to have managed to write such a work during all the personal issues I’ve had for the last few months. It’s nice to know no matter what’s going on in my real life I always have my writing.
Now I have to get back to it. On to the next story. Don’t want to leave you waiting for long. :) Happy reading!
This story came to me very suddenly. But the second Miranda and Jeremy started telling me their story I had no choice but to listen. Jeremy was just so insistent on what he wanted, with me and Miranda and I couldn’t deny him. Even with everything else I had going on these last few months, and it’s been a lot (I write another blog post about that soon).
Here’s one of my favorite interactions between the two of them, just to wet your whistle a bit.
"Sure." He smiled, leaning up and grabbing the items from her. "It's nice to be useful. Even with this." He knocked on his leg. The loud thump of a fist on plaster filled the room.
Miranda sat on the opposite end of the couch, waiting patiently while he jabbed the corkscrew into the cork and twisted it out, even as it made her twitchy and achy. She watched him turn the corkscrew in the bottle. A sudden ache blooming between her legs at the twirl of the device in his hand, the triumph way he pulled the cork from the long thin neck. She clamped her thighs together, hoping to stem the sensation before it traveled any further.
"That's probably been the hardest part of being injured. Having to ask for help." He poured the thick red wine into one of the glasses. When the goblet was half way full he switched to other. "I guess I'm not very good at it." Once both goblets were filled to the midpoint, he handed her one and placed the wine bottle on the table.
She took a sip of the dry merlot. "Just like every other man." She hid her smirk behind her glass, but from Jeremy's returned smile he didn't mind the slight dig.
"I guess that's true." He sipped from his own glass, wrapping his hand around the glass with such a firm touch. What else he could do with those hands, how strong or how soft might his grip be.
"How did you get hurt anyway?" Best to keep focused on something besides Jeremy’s mouth pressed against the glass.
Jeremy looked down at the cast over his leg, "Do you promise not to laugh at me?"
She nodded, turning toward him, shifting her focus to him completely. She twisted into the couch cushions, sliding her stocking feet beneath her.
"I slipped on a pile of Rhino dung."
She chuckled, slapping her hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. She couldn't help it. The image of him sliding backwards in a giant pile of poop was too funny not to laugh.
"Hey," he yelled, though his face didn't hold any true anger. Instead he smiled with her. "You promised not to laugh."
"You're right." She snorted, placing the glass of wine down on the coffee table before she spilled it over the floor. "I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting a story like that." She wiped at her eyes, a bit of moisture gathering along the lashes. "How exactly does one break his leg by stepping in rhino dung?"
He smirked, bringing the wine glass to his lips and taking a sip. "I was trying to take a picture of a momma rhino and her calf cuddling. People love pictures of animal mother and babies, especially exotic ones. I wasn't paying attention to where I walk. I stepped backwards, slipped on the pile and my leg ended up underneath bent the wrong way."
She erupted in another fit of chuckles. "I'm sorry." She brushed the tears back. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had such a good laugh.”
She reached out, touching his arm without even a thought. He glanced down, staring at where her skin met his. Then his eyes traveled back up to hers. For a second they just looked at each other. Arches of heat passed between them and her stomach fluttered.
"It’s okay," he whispered, his chocolate brown eyes gazing into hers. So deep and sweet, she almost believed she could drown in them. And what a way to go. "I don't mind too much."
His lips were so close she could almost feel them on her skin, the soft brush
against her own mouth, his tongue caressing her own. It'd been so long since she'd been kissed. So long since anyone had looked at her with as much heat and lust as Jeremy was now.
Not since Leo. Not since her dead husband.
She pulled her hand back, glancing away. She was on dangerous ground. She could feel it. She had to bring the conversation back to a safer topic. Much safer.
I’ll let you all know once I know what’s going on with this work, when it finds its home and where. But for now, I’m just so thrilled to have managed to write such a work during all the personal issues I’ve had for the last few months. It’s nice to know no matter what’s going on in my real life I always have my writing.
Now I have to get back to it. On to the next story. Don’t want to leave you waiting for long. :) Happy reading!
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