Saturday, June 29, 2013

Another taste of my latest wip?

Publicity photo courtesy Rick Mora

Copyright 2013 by Fran Lee

Zeke had lived alone out here for a damn long time. It felt unreal to see a woman standing here. His cock wanted to reach out and taste her. He clenched his teeth to keep from groaning at the pain it gave him. His old worn jeans suddenly seemed way too fucking tight.

He swallowed the thickness in his throat but his voice still seemed to be someone else’s when he spoke. She jerked upright and whirled so quickly, those long coltish legs got all tangled up and she nearly tumbled onto his bed. The mental image of her sprawled across his bed left him even harder.

His dream.

Definitely not Anglo. He noted those wide, chocolate brown eyes and the delicious blush that suffused her sun-kissed cheeks, coming up from the neckline of her sweat-damp shirt. Native American. Not Navajo or Zuni. Certainly not Apache. More likely Northern Plains. Maybe Cheyenne. Maybe Sioux. But it didn’t matter. She was so far out of his league, it seriously sucked. Just his luck to find a woman in his place, and know she wasn’t one he could ever hope to have.


His mouth watered for a taste of that soft, perfect skin. He slowly eased his body away from the door frame and watched her hands lift to her cheeks as if to cool them. But it wasn’t fear that lit her eyes. It was something else entirely. And those eyes lit a fire deep in his belly.

“Oh, God. You—live here?” Her voice was a rich contralto with a refined accent. He nodded, taking a slow step inside the open door before easing it closed, leaving the interior of his cabin in semi-darkness.  He could sense the hectic emotions rising in her. The heat of her racing pulse. The warm scent of her hair. The heady, sweet musk of her woman’s body. He inhaled deeply. Panic and arousal warred inside her for supremacy. Arousal. Something he had never before scented on a woman who had looked at him.

Surprisingly she seemed to like what she saw, but she was afraid, as well. Now, that was his normal effect on women. Usually the fear won. And when that happened, he wouldn’t stand a chance. He wasn’t good with women. He wanted to ask why she had come. He couldn’t make his words come out right as those beautiful eyes moved rapidly down his body and back to his face. He calmed his instincts, because they didn’t make sense. His instincts told him she was here for him.

That she was his.

His body felt hot and it seemed like he was about to bust open into a million pieces. Joe must have sent her to him. The old medicine man had been bugging the shit out of him for years to open his mind and heart and seek his other half.

He almost laughed at that idea. There was no other half for him. He’d never once been with a woman. Women were scared shitless of him. He’d learned his place in the world long ago. He’d learned that there was no woman who would accept him…could accept him…or what he was. He had figured that he was destined to use his hand and his desperate imagination for eternity.

Zeke went into town rarely. He saw many women, but the sight of his ravaged face combined with his massive, menacing body was often enough to terrify them into running in the opposite direction. He had learned to accept the feeling of rejection long ago.

And those of his tribe avoided him like the plague.

He closed his eyes and listened to the swift beat of her heart. Arousal. His body responded to the sound. Arousal was good. Arousal he could handle…he saw her spread before him in his mind…

Her delicious, warm voice interrupted his lustful thoughts.

“I—I’m sure there’s just been some silly mistake.” Her slim hands were in front of her, palms out as she spoke. As if that would prevent him from reaching out and dragging her into his arms. Obviously she sensed his preoccupation with those gorgeous tits…

No copying or reprinting without express permission of the author.  


Fran Lee


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