UPDATE: Congrats to CJ! You’ve won the free download. I’ll be in touch shortly! DD
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Monday’s the day… Veteran’s day and the release date for Uniform Desires! I hope you’ve already pre-ordered your copy and that you’ve entered the huge rafflecopter contest! Tons of prizes will be awarded, so take an extra moment to head on over there to enter! Okay, that’s the end of my commercial.
Let’s talk about today’s flashback…
I love writing short stories—whether it’s for someone else’s anthology or my own, and sometimes, as with “Two Hot,” I like to publish them alone. Not everyone loves a shorter story, but I like writing them and reading them. They are a little slice of life, and the challenge is always to get to the point quickly, serve a satisfying little vignette, and close with a flourish. It’s not easy. I have friends who’d rather write a full-length novel than tackle a short story. Every word counts. There’s no room for a meandering tale. I use every story as an exercise in honing my precision so that when I write the longer stories, I bring that same focus to ensure I make every word and scene count.
But what does one do when they have a bunch of short stories that have appeared in various publications? I like to group them into volumes to give my readers a chance to see them. Not everyone can buy up every collection I appear in, so my Strokes volumes are my way to share them. The excerpt I’m sharing below first appeared in Cleis Press’s Suite Encounters. Then it was featured in the November 2012 issue of Penthouse! But you can read it in its entirety, along with seven other naughty bedtime tales, in Strokes, Vol. 2. Enjoy the excerpt!
I’ll post the winner of today’s contest Monday morning!
Post a comment and you’ll be entered to win a free download of this book!
From National Bestselling Author, Delilah Devlin, comes another naughty collection of seven bedtime stories—a week’s worth of nighttime reading pleasure.
Ride along with two soldiers, just returned from war, who find sweet release in “The Long Ride Home.” In “Tailgating at the Cedar Inn,” a woman has one last fling with two sexy construction workers. A cowboy kidnaps his “Runaway Bride” to get some sweet satisfaction. A woman travelling alone in Europe enjoys a hot steamy sauna in the “Textile Free” zone. In “Love in Bloom,” a florist tempts her high school crush. A naughty nooner with an office colleague ends in a “Quick Draw.” A dispatcher kicks inhibitions to the door when she seduces a younger truck driver in “Drive Me Crazy.”
Four of the stories have appeared in separate Cleis Press anthologies. Two of the stories were featured in Penthouse magazine! All the stories are featured in one sinfully hot collection…
From “Tailgating at the Cedar Inn”
I stepped out of the shower onto chipped and cracked aqua blue tiles with grout so dingy I couldn’t tell what color it had been. Not that the bathroom was dirty, thank god. Just old. Like the rest of the 60’s-built motel I’d found on the little back country road.
Standing before the sink, I toweled my hair then shook my head like a dog, not caring where the droplets landed. The mess wasn’t one I’d have to clean. For one last night, I could be irresponsible, messy, even if only in a small way.
I draped the towel over the edge of the old white tub and sauntered naked into the small room with the double bed. The air smelled of tobacco and industrial cleansers. The bedding looked clean if a little nappy from wear, but I peeled back the quilt-top and tossed it on the floor anyway. Pristine white sheets beckoned.
Just as I lay back, sighing with relief, sounds from outside the room jarred me from my happy haze. Tires squealed, masculine laughter bellowed through the thin walls, and car doors slammed.
A sigh escaped and I stared at the bared rafters above. The laughter faded. I reached across to flip off the switch to the nightstand lamp with its yellowed shade. Lying in the darkness, I willed my body to relax, one limb at a time. That day, I’d driven three hundred miles. I’d have gone another fifty for a decent hotel, but the shorter route my Garmin dictated led me through narrow two-lane roads deep in the Ozark Mountains. I doubted I’d have found anything nicer.
Maybe I should have stuck to the Interstate, but I’d wanted to shave some miles. Little did I know the route would keep my foot busy pushing on the gas pedal then the brake the whole way. Exhausted with nerves shattered, I’d seen the crooked Vacancy sign outside the Cedar Inn and made my decision on the spot, swerving into the empty gravel parking lot. Not until I’d opened the door to my tiny, musty room did I have second thoughts about my decision. But how bad could the room really be? I’d turned on the swamp cooler set into a window frame and felt my hair frizz instantly.
Not that I’d really cared. No one was around to impress. Other than the clerk at the front desk, a skinny, twenty-something redneck with puppy dog eyes, the place was deserted. At the thought, I’d shivered a little bit, double-bolted my room door and checked the lock on the window. Visions of the shower scene from Psycho didn’t put me off taking a long, lukewarm soak to wash away the road grime and sweat.
The cooler purred, spilling muggy air into the room. The sheets felt clammy. Still, I grew calm as my body warmed the sheets beneath me, then a little horny when I wondered if the room might have little peepholes for the clerk to watch me. He’d been cute, if a little skinny. I wouldn’t mind if he watched—at least not in my fantasies. Who knew how long before I felt comfortable enough, private enough to indulge in a little one-handed play when my grandmother slept in the room next to mine.
I slipped a hand between my thighs and lazily trailed my fingers through my cleft until my breath caught and heat pooled. I raised my knees and let them fall open, tilted my hips and thrust two fingers inside my pussy. I wasn’t in a hurry. I wasn’t even that eager to come. The motion soothed and excited, allowing my mind to let go of my troubles—the firing, the break-up, the move to my grandmother’s house—and focus only on the pleasure curling deep inside my core.
When the blare of a TV sounded from outside, I had third and fourth thoughts about my decision to stop here for the night. What the hell? Why had someone moved their television set outside rather than watch in the seclusion of their room where the sound would be somewhat muffled.
I gritted my teeth, swung my legs over the side of the bed and reached for shorts and a tee, slipping them over my nude body and jammed the keys in my pocket before I stomped to the door and flung it open.
Not that the two men sitting on the truck noticed me—at first. Read the rest of this entry »
