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Eine Lieferung an Minderjährige ist nicht möglich
  • Format: ePub

The emergency lights cast long, dancing shadows. Dave found a couple of old, scratchy blankets in the supply closet. He offered one to Sandy, their fingers brushing. A spark, not from the faulty wiring, jolted through them. The air thrummed with unspoken things. They settled on the floor in the break room, a single electric kettle still working for lukewarm tea. The cold seeped through the windows, but a different kind of heat began to build between them. Sandy watched Dave's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, her gaze lingering on the strong line of his jaw. He caught her looking, and a slow,…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
The emergency lights cast long, dancing shadows. Dave found a couple of old, scratchy blankets in the supply closet. He offered one to Sandy, their fingers brushing. A spark, not from the faulty wiring, jolted through them. The air thrummed with unspoken things. They settled on the floor in the break room, a single electric kettle still working for lukewarm tea. The cold seeped through the windows, but a different kind of heat began to build between them. Sandy watched Dave's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, her gaze lingering on the strong line of his jaw. He caught her looking, and a slow, knowing smile spread across his face, a smile that stripped away years of professional distance. "Cold?" he asked, his voice rougher now, less casual. "No," she breathed, her eyes locking with his. "Not anymore." He leaned in, slow and deliberate. Her own breath hitched as his scent - crisp, male, and unexpectedly alluring - filled her senses. Their lips met, tentative at first, then urgent, demanding. His hand found the nape of her neck, tangling in her hair, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. The kiss deepened, a hungry exploration that tasted of fear and desire, of long suppressed wanting. Dave's fingers fumbled with the buttons of her cardigan, then the delicate silk of her blouse. Her hands were already tearing at his tie, then the buttons of his own shirt. The sound of fabric against skin, the faint rustle of clothing falling to the linoleum floor, was deafening in the quiet office. He pushed her gently onto the blanket, his body following, pressing her into the worn fibers.


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Autorenporträt
I have always loved writing so this is s good opportunity for me to finally do something I like.I have been writing short stories for a few years now but it was always more for fun than for money. I am now taking my writing more seriously and will be writing longer stories. People seem to like my wham bam thank you ma'am type of writing but I feel I can reach a wider audience. I am in the process of going over submitted stories and proof reading them again. I have just published my first paperback which is a collection of some of stories I have written. I plan on doing a part 2 but at the moment I'm writing my first "Novel," I hate that because I think it sounds so pretentious. If you like my stories please support this struggling author and purchase a few more, every little helps :-)

Please note: Other authors published by me are independent and my work should not be associated with their work.

Thanks for reading and thanks for supporting me.

Katie