You know what it’s like when you’re trying to get two characters together for the first time. You ponder all the different ways that first kiss could go…

So I’m writing these two characters and I’m coming up on the kiss, and suddenly, I’m not sure how I want it to go. Since I was in a quandary, I decided to look at some past first kisses I wrote to help me figure this out. At the end, I’ll show you what my hero looks like in my head. He’s hot and amusing and so very different from any man my heroine has ever been with. But first, a few kisses.

Dominic and Ainsley

“You don’t have to wait with me while I hail a cab,” she told Dominic. “I’m perfectly fine on my own.”

He shrugged. “Your sister would want me to make sure you’re safely in a cab.”

Ainsley’s mouth tightened angrily. “And you do whatever my sister thinks you should?”

Dominic’s frown creased his forehead. “She’s a wise woman, so yeah, mostly I do.”

“Well, I suppose it’s easier than thinking for yourself,” she muttered sarcastically.

“Why are you such a bitch?” he burst out.

“Why are you such a dick?” she shot back.

She heard a cab pull up just as Dominic growled and grabbed her arms. She wondered if he was going to shake her, and looked up into his face, her eyes meeting his golden ones. There was something in them that suddenly wrenched at her and it was definitely not anger. Driven by something she couldn’t name, she stood on tiptoe and leaned against him, pressing her mouth to his.

Dominic growled again and let go of her arms to grab her hips and pull her against him. His mouth was hot against hers and she felt the wet glide of his tongue enter her mouth. She moaned at the sensations that were buffeting her body. He tasted like cinnamon and she wanted to wind her arms around him and…

“Hey lady! Do you need a ride or not?” the cabbie yelled out.

Ainsley jerked back from Dominic, her hand going to her mouth. They stared at each other for a split second, both of them breathless. Then she turned and stumbled into the cab. It shot away from the curb and she looked back, seeing Dominic still standing there watching the cab drive away. Whatever had just happened between them had been just as stunning to him as it had been to her. Now, if only she could figure out what had happened, she might be able to prevent it from happening again. She touched her lips. They burned. In fact, her whole body felt like it was on fire. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, so she wondered if maybe she should let it happen again…and again…

Mace and Sterling

I stopped and looked over my shoulder to find that Mace had followed me as I’d known he would. I slipped between the mausoleum, the tree, and a tall wrought iron fence, my back against the cold marble. Mace stepped close to me, his body brushing mine.

“You’re giving me signals, Blondie,” he said in a low rough whisper as his fingers snaked through my silvery waves.

“You’re giving signals as well, Bad Boy,” I murmured and set my Glock on the ledge next to me. With a flick of my wrist I popped the buttons on my leather jeans and I heard Mace draw in a hissing breath. Then his mouth was on mine, hard and grinding.

His fangs cut my lower lip and I tasted blood. He ground his hips against mine pressing me back against the cold marble wall as his hands first gripped my shoulders then moved down to slide under the edge of my leather corset top to squeeze my breasts roughly. I thrust my tongue into his mouth fiercely, my hands clutching at his thick neck and muscular shoulders. His hands moved from my aching nipples to slide over my naked buttocks beneath my loosened jeans. The jeans slid to my knees and Mace’s knee wedged between mine, spreading my thighs for the rough caress of his fingers.

He groaned when he discovered my wetness and I reached between us to unzip his jeans and release his hard cock. The velvety tip was already leaking fluid. I stroked it and his head fell back, a shaft of moonlight showing me the pleasure on his face. He groaned again and then his head moved and his eyes met mine. “I don’t have a condom,” he gritted.

I shook my head, strands of my hair catching in the dark stubble on his jaw. “You don’t need one. I’m going to die tonight,” I told him as I nipped at his strong neck.

Helios and Tarren

Helios sat down beside me and reached out to take my hand in his. His thumb stroked my palm in a caress that sent shivers down my spine.

“Can’t you look at me?” he whispered.

I turned my head back toward him noticing how close he was. He sat on the other chaise and his knees were right up against the one I sat on. He was leaning forward so that he was actually only inches from me. Our eyes met and my heart began to race. I swallowed hard. His free hand came up and slid into my hair testing the texture. Then his fingers cupped the back of my head and he pulled me toward him. His mouth touched mine briefly, hesitantly. Electricity crackled through my body lighting every nerve ending. When I didn’t pull away he kissed me again, this time more urgently, his tongue parting my lips then sliding against my tongue.

I sat there not really kissing him back but not putting up any resistance either. Everything I’d begun to feel for him since the moment he’d walked into Blackthorne Castle rushed to the surface as he kissed me. I felt as if I was coming alive. I tingled as if with an electric shock and my skin burned with heat. I could feel Helios’ emotions flooding his thoughts and by extension, my own thoughts. He pulled away, his thumb coming up to stroke my bottom lip as we looked at each other trying to figure this thing out.

Alex and Maris (This isn’t a first kiss, but rather a first kiss after being apart for years.)

He smiled gently at her, his body angling itself closer to hers. “Yet, you were coming here to meet a man you didn’t know,” he said in a low tone.

“I was coming here to find the man who wrote those words,” she countered.

“Are you surprised to find it was me?” he asked, his head cocked to one side.

She shook her head, her silky hair spilling over her shoulder. “Surprised is too mild a word.”

Alex bent his head, bringing his mouth close to hers. “Kitten, what I feel for you isn’t mild and never has been,” he murmured, his breath wafting over her lips as his pet name for her slipped out easily.

She opened her mouth to say something, but he swooped in and kissed her. It was a light kiss, just a brushing of his lips against hers, rubbing softly and seductively, promising more. God, how he was promising her more! His head spun as her apricot scent and the fruity taste of her mouth overwhelmed him. He felt his cock twitch and fought for control.

As he lifted his head, their lips parting, two tears slipped down her cheeks. He swallowed hard, pushing down the ache that rose in him when he saw her pain. His thumbs brushed the moisture away, the feel of her tears on his skin making his chest burn.

“Maris, this is the first time I’ve felt joy in more years than I want to count,” he whispered hoarsely, his emotions close to slipping free of his control. “Tell me you don’t want dinner.”

She shook her head. “I can’t eat.”

Miles and Jen (This is the hottest kiss I’ve ever written IMO. I read this and shiver.)

He was hot. Hot in a way that made her knees weak. She could tell he didn’t really want to talk to her. He was edgy, and he kept looking at the door. The rest of his family stayed away though. That meant he had nothing to focus on but her. And he did. It was disconcerting.

His beauty was deadly. He totally slayed her with his dark eyes and his square jaw and hot body. Her heart was racing and tumbling in her chest. The words he spoke were just ordinary ones. He said everything she expected him to say. There was nothing sexy or flirtatious about what he was saying. However, there was an expression at the back of his eyes that told her something far, far different than the words that fell from his lips.

His eyes were hot. And needy. Not needy bad, but needy good. The kind of needy that led to sweaty bodies and delicate touches and little moans of pleasure. One of those moans erupted from the back of her throat as she stared into his eyes. She couldn’t help herself. Looking at him was like looking at a buffet when you’d been without food for months.

The sound of her moan affected him. How could it not? She knew she wasn’t the only one wrapped in a white hot heat of lust. But while she stared at him google eyed, unable to focus on the issues at hand, he’d been all business, only that expression in the back of his eyes giving away that he felt the same as she did. Now, that little snippet of sound was unleashing a beast. A beast that she knew would devour her. She was more excited than she could remember ever being.

His hand came up to brush her jawline. His body angled in closer to hers. She could smell his cologne. It was faint and overridden mostly by his own unique scent. She liked that. He wasn’t artificial. As his hand slid into her long hair and cupped the back of her head, she placed her palms on his rock hard chest. The muscles shifted beneath the thin t-shirt, and she could feel his heart thudding against her palm.

She looked up at him and saw that the expression in the back of his eyes had taken over. He wasn’t thinking about business at all now. He was thinking about her. He lowered his head. His lips brushed hers. She shivered, feeling as if an electrical current had just run through her. He kissed her softly and pulled back, looking into her eyes for a moment. Then he was kissing her harder. The tether that had held his desire in check, snapped.

Their bodies came together like waves hitting the beach. An inevitable meeting that gave pleasure and relief while pushing their newfound desire to the edge of endurance. His mouth was hot and firm. The rough thrust of his tongue against hers held arrogance and urgency. The movements of his body were seductive. He held her in a primal manner, his body curved around her protectively, yet with a tenseness that came from his rising passion.

They kissed like it was their last kiss, instead of their first. Her arms encircled his broad shoulders, her fingers finding his soft dark hair. The solid wall of muscle that was his chest crushed her breasts while his jean clad hips rubbed against her sinuously. Shivers of lust and some unnamed emotion rocked her body. She didn’t want to put a name to what she was feeling. She just wanted to enjoy it, the same way she wanted to enjoy the taste and feel of him.

The kissing session lasted for long minutes. They couldn’t get enough of each other. They’d progressed to hands sliding beneath shirts and into the waistbands of jeans, when voices in the next room brought them back to reality. He pushed her away from him, regret in his dark eyes. There was also a promise in those eyes though. A promise that he would soon finish what they had started this day. Later… tonight… him and her and nothing else.

Now my question is, what the hell do I do for a first kiss with a hero who’s laid back, amusing, and looks like this:

Oh, Travis Fimmell… it doesn’t get much hotter than him…

I’ll figure out the kiss, but feel free to leave your suggestions. You never know what they will spawn in my fertile brain!

In My Head

Characters tend to take up a lot of space in a writer’s head. At the moment, I have so many of them in there that sometimes they argue with one another about who has the right to push to the fore and be written today. This can be a little confusing to me, as the writer, because maybe I don’t want to write about how Rafe is trying to get McKenna to talk to him online. Or maybe I don’t feel like figuring out exactly what Jen feels when she’s face to face with a man she’s only ever dreamt of. Maybe what I need to be writing is the end of Macaire.

And that’s the truth right there. I should be writing the end of Macaire’s storyline at the Bar. Let me backtrack for a moment and show you what happened to make me end Macaire. Macaire is a Fallen Angel. The angels are good not evil creatures. I’m not gonna tell you how they become angels because that is a plot device you’ll have to read for yourself, either at the Bar or when I actually write the Fallen Angel book that I’ve plotted out.

Macaire is not a good angel. He has feelings of rage and jealousy and he puts in place a very devious plan to take power away from a renowned hacker/spy/assassin named The McClaren. The McClaren is really a water fairy named Nyx who inherited the role/title/job of the McClaren. It’s a job handed down through the centuries since the beginning of time.

Nyx has all the accoutrements of her trade, lots of technie toys, a cursed a sgian dubh, and even better than anything else, her own Am-fear faire. An Am-fear faire is a kind of immortal guardian. In this case, Alfred (like Batman’s Alfred) is the guardian of the McClaren. Not Nyx, but the McClaren. Macaire seems to feel that Alfred should be his, a clue to the readers that Macaire, when he was alive and not an angel, was related to Nyx somehow.

Anyway, the story about Macaire and his desire to see the downfall of Nyx isn’t exactly the issue here. The issue is how things change and why I decided Macaire’s storyline had to end. You see, my original plot for Macaire was to redeem him after he reveals who he was when he was alive. Then something happened in the real world. Heath Ledger died.

Yeah, in my head, I kept envisioning Heath Ledger as Macaire. Once Heath died, it became increasingly difficult for me to write Macaire. That’s when I knew, Macaire had to die too. Yeah, it sucks ass majorly. I was really loving Macaire, but I just can’t write him if I can’t see him in my head. Now that Heath’s dead, I just keep thinking of that rather than the Machiavellian Fallen Angel character. I’m toast. I’ve gotta spit out the end of this storyline and send Macaire to the Afterworld. Such an incredible waste of a talent (Heath’s) and a storyline (Macaire’s).

You know, I liked Macaire so much I’m gonna leave you with a couple of posts from his point of view and one from Nyx’s. (WARNING: The Nyx post contains explicit sex.) They’re first person, which I’m starting not to use at the Bar anymore, but I think I’m good enough with that voice that you’ll get the image in your head of Heath as Macaire. Let me know what you think.

From Macaire’s POV

The fog swirled around me as I watched Nyx walk into her building. She couldn’t see me any longer. No one could. I stood and watched the Dragonfire cast off and head down the river. So Nyx had sent the yacht back to the drop off point. Smart move. If there was trouble the dragons could get to the yacht a lot faster than they could get home. Plus, the yacht had a lot of firepower. The McClaren wouldn’t have it any other way.

I turned away from the river and looked up at the tower where Nyx lived. She thought she was safe from me up there. Had I been any other kind of creature than what I was, she would have been. I began to stalk around the building, thinking as I walked. She was alone but for Alfred. I could put part of my plan into motion now. I could also ensure that her “husband” didn’t return from his little mission in Belgium. Unfortunately, Venetia would know instantly that I had done something against the tenets of the angels if I made sure Valerian didn’t make it back. I didn’t need her sister Elysia showing up and giving me shit. I was pretty powerful but Elysia was the boss, a step below our all knowing creator Marius. She could kick my ass straight back to the Afterlife if she wanted to.

So far, I had been lucky that Venetia was so easily manipulated. She was playing the game exactly as I wanted her to. She thought she was being Miss Double Agent when in fact I knew all about her and Althea watching me and Nyx. I would have preferred Elysia to have left her youngest sister here with Venetia. I could have used an afternoon of sex with the gorgeous Althea. When I found out Althea had been sent to Switzerland I was a little tweaked. I’d been looking forward to seeing her again. I stopped and looked up at the tower again. This was going to have to come to a head soon. I was antsy to have it done and have my place in this world restored to me.

I debated confronting Nyx or waiting to see what happened to her mate. Even though I had led Nyx to believe that I knew the outcome, I didn’t. Some things that were preordained through the deities were easy to know. The destinies of chosen mates for instance. Sometimes we could even see death writ upon a person’s face but usually those were humans. With immortals, knowing their fate was difficult and mostly guesswork.

I stopped and gazed up at Nyx’s penthouse. Needling her again so soon probably wasn’t the best move. I turned away and began to walk toward the street. Maybe it would be better if I crashed Althea’s party. She was probably bored babysitting blue dragons by now. She could probably use a distraction. My groin tightened as I thought of her luscious body. I’d only ever had the one opportunity to bed Althea. She seemed to have a habit of never fucking the same guy twice. I wondered briefly why that was but then decided it would be easier, and more fun, to just show up in Switzerland and convince her to give me a second go.

Thinking about Althea pinpointed her location for me and I snapped my fingers, leaving behind the icy fog of London for the almost warm Zermatt airport. Althea was leaning against a pillar near the men’s room; her long legs encased in jeans and knee high leather boots. The long fur lined leather coat she wore hid her body but I knew what it looked like, felt like, tasted like. I slipped up behind her as she fiddled with her cell phone.

“What’s a sexy thing like you doing hanging out in a shitty place like this?” I whispered in her shell pink ear.

She stiffened and I sensed that my voice had startled her. She spun away from the pillar and I took her place leaning against it. “What the fuck are you doing here Macaire?” she hissed, anger lighting her usually warm eyes.

I shrugged. “You’re here, so I thought I’d come by and say hi,” I told her with an unrepentant smile.

“Since when have you stalked me?” she asked sourly, her eyes wary.

“Since I started thinking about that time we spent together in Spain,” I murmured, pushing off from the pillar and pacing around her. “You’re such a lusciously uninhibited thing. I like that in a woman.”

Althea glared at me. “I’m not interested, Macaire. Once with you was plenty,” she gritted out.

“Oh, now, that certainly cannot be true,” I told her, shaking my head. “I have yet to be with a woman who doesn’t want a second ride or a third.”

Althea’s eyes shifted toward the men’s room door. “Not interested, Macaire. Why don’t you visit Khaos. She always has a party happening and many willing men and women.” Her eyes narrowed on me as I continued to circle her. “I’m not willing.”

I stopped and leaned in, close to her body. “You’re always willing Althea. You’re a party girl,” I whispered and bent my head to steal a kiss.

She twisted away, her dark eyes stormy. “No, I’m not. And with you Macaire, I’m no longer willing,” she replied firmly.

I felt rather than saw the men’s room door open. I knew then that Althea was waiting for that blue dragon, Lorenzo something. Sensing him approaching, I took Althea by the elbow and pulled her against me, kissing her hard. She was twisting her head away when I heard a growling behind me and the already cool airport became frigid.

“Get your fucking hands off her!”

I turned, pulling Althea with me so that her body was between me and the blue. Her eyes grew frantic. “Lorenzo, it’s okay,” she said hastily, fear flashing across her face.

I smiled in a very sharky way. “Now, now, mate. Just saying hello to an old girlfriend,” I said, my voice silky. Althea, however, could sense the menace in my tone and she stiffened. My hands caressed her arms possessively and the blue dragon began to shake with anger.

“You can say hello without touching her,” he growled, smoking gushing from his nostrils.

Althea looked over her shoulder at him. “Please, Lorenzo. It’s okay. Macaire was just going,” she soothed, obviously afraid I would hurt the guy.

I sighed. Fuck it. This was too much work for a piece of ass. I let go of Althea and she stepped backward toward Lorenzo, whose blue eyes still blazed at me. I felt him trying to probe my thoughts and left a single one for him to find while locking away all the others. ‘Fuck you, blue reptile. You can’t get in MY head unless I say so!’

Lorenzo’s eyes widened as he found that one thought. I held out my hand toward him and froze him, eyes open. Althea gasped. “Let him go,” she ordered, her voice fierce.

My eyebrows rose. “Althea, I know you enjoy your work, but aren’t you taking it a tad bit too far with blue boy there?” I asked suavely. “You can’t have a mate so falling for him will only leave you heartbroken.”

Her face became as stony as her sister Elysia’s always was. “The state of my heart is none of your fucking business Macaire!” she said in a frigid voice that sounded like her sister’s. “You should be more concerned with the state of your ass with my sister the way you’re fucking with the McClaren. Elysia won’t take much more of your stupid antics. Nyx McClaren owes you nothing and you know it! If you fuck with her, my sister will can your ass. So I suggest you put Lorenzo back in motion and get away from me. And don’t bother ever thinking you can fuck me again because you can’t and you won’t.”

My mouth tightened in anger. “Don’t threaten me with Elysia,” I told her in a low voice, my eyes holding hers intently. “I’ll leave you alone, but because I want to, not because you tell me to.” I began to back away from her. “I won’t forget that you turned on me Althea.”

She tossed her glossy brown head and shot me an arrogant look. “Yeah, what and ever Macaire.” She threw the words at me the way a person would carelessly throw a dog a bone.

I snapped my fingers putting Lorenzo Moretti back in motion. “It’s been good seeing you darling,” I murmured with an indulgent smile at Althea. “We must do this again some time.” I turned and strode quickly away through the terminal, knowing without looking back that Althea had restrained Lorenzo.

Once out of her eyesight, I snapped my fingers and took myself back to London just in time to see Nyx climbing onto the Dragonfire, which sped out of the docks and down the river. I drew in a deep breath. If the Dragonfire had come back, that meant something had happened. I spun away and hurried toward the tower where Nyx lived. Alfred was always a font of information and right now, I needed to know where Nyx was headed.


“Alfred, Alfred, Alfred. Did you think I was so stupid that I didn’t know Nyx was gone?”

I brushed past the butler and walked into the foyer of Nyx’s penthouse as if it was my own. I strolled down the hallway until I hit an invisible field of energy that wouldn’t let me continue. I turned and smiled at Alfred, who had followed me.

“Always on duty, aren’t you, Alfie?” I murmured, trailing my fingertips through the energy field, causing it to make a buzzing sound.

“Mr. Macaire, you know quite well that in my position, I am required to be on duty at all times,” Alfred replied in a stiff tone.

I smiled at the old man, wondering, for perhaps the hundredth time, how old he truly was. “Which position, Alfred? Your butler job or your real job?” I walked back toward the study and went into the room. No energy fields there. I opened the humidor and checked out the cigars. All Cuban. Nyx did have good taste. I’d give her that.

I glanced over my shoulder, knowing full well that Alfred had followed me. I let one eyebrow flick up, as a smile teased my lips. “C’mon, Alfred. What does an Am Fear-faire make these days?” I asked him in a sardonic tone.

Alfred’s eyes flashed. “Your pronunciation of the Gaidhlig is deplorable,” he replied haughtily.

I flopped down on a leather wingback chair and crossed my legs. “So what?” I shrugged carelessly. “I know what you are and that is all that matters between us, Alfred.” I leaned forward a little, my eyes sharpening as they met his. “You are the Guardian. More specifically, the McClaren’s Guardian. That means you hold as much interest for me as Nyx herself does.”

“I’ve always known that you were not interested in her sexually,” Alfred said, the stiff tone returning.

I pointed my index finger at the old man. “Smart of you, Alfred. Very smart. But you won’t outsmart me. I’m stronger than you. I have more power than you. And, even better, I have more power than Nyx.” I sat back and let my smile out once more. “Her days as the McClaren are numbered. You know this, Alfred. She should never have been made the McClaren in the first place.”

Alfred’s spine straightened and his pale blue eyes flashed with intelligence and anger. “Mrs. Kronos is the last of her line. It was right, and appropriate, that she take on the mantle of the McClaren. If she were not the true McClaren, I would not be here with her,” he intoned, his voice becoming very different from his usual butler tones. The sound boomed out from his chest, as if he were a much larger creature than the thin old man before me.

His eyes narrowed then. “I would not advise that you make any sort of attempt on Mrs. Kronos’ life, Macaire. If you should happen to do that, you will then discover the truth of who has the most power, a Fallen Angel or an Am Fear-faire.” The booming voice was now tinged with menace.

I leaned back in the chair, delighted that I had cracked his composure. “Oh, Alfred. You’re so predictable. In all the months I’ve been stalking Nyx, you should have discovered something else about me besides the fact that I have no interest in her sexually,” I said coolly, swinging my foot and steepling my fingers. “You should have realized that I knew quite well that Nyx has no weaknesses. At least, she used to have none. Now she has Valerian.”

Alfred’s face turned to stone. “Mr. Kronos has nothing to do with your vendetta against Mrs. Kronos. And as her mate, I am sworn to protect him just as I protect her,” he intoned, the deep voice still in place.

I laughed out loud. Alfred was just too cute. He took himself, and his job as Am Fear-faire, far too seriously. I could squash him like a bug and he knew it, despite his warning that he was stronger than me. Marius and Elysia had trained me well. I knew there was very little on this planet that was more powerful than me. After all, I had the ability to create life. I knew that should I choose to end life, I would be able to do that just as well.

Rising from the leather chair I paced around the study for a few minutes, feeling Alfred’s eyes on me every moment. “I’m not afraid of you or the McClaren, Alfred. I know full well the powers that the two of you have,” I said in a low voice, the sound so soft only an immortal would be able to hear me. “The only thing that gives me pause are those Ogham rings. I do not yet know the full extent of their power, but when I do, Valerian Kronos’ life will not be worth much.”

I spun around, my eyes locking with Alfred’s. “Him first. Then you. And then her,” I promised him, watching him stiffen with rage.

“You will not succeed.” The old man’s voice was flat and emotionless, his cold pale eyes as blank as a reptile’s.

With a slight grin, I walked to the door of the study. “You can think that, Alfred, but all it serves is to weaken your defense against me. You would be better off worrying about what I could do,” I whispered. “You know what I want. You alone know this whole story. Give me what I desire and I will spare your life.”

Alfred walked past me, out of the study, and into the foyer. He stood silently beside the door to the outer foyer where the elevator waited. “Good evening, Mr. Macaire. I expect I shall see you again, when Mrs. Kronos returns from Paris,” he intoned.

I headed for the elevator, although I didn’t really need it. “You better believe it, Alfred. Give her my best, would you? Oh, and to Mr. Kronos as well.” I chuckled softly. “It’s too bad he didn’t get caught inside that castle. It would have saved me some work.”

I stepped out of the door and into the elevator, waving calmly to the stone faced Alfred as the door shut. The elevator winged its way toward the ground floor, but I snapped my fingers and took myself to Ogilvie’s house in the blink of an eye. According to Ogilvie, Valerian Kronos’ brother was getting married. I was really happy for the guy, because his nuptials would be the vehicle for the first part of my assault on Nyx McClaren.

From Nyx’s POV

“Oh, fuck. Oh, baby,” Valerian moaned as he thrust into me.

I pushed my hips back as he thrust into me. “Damn it, Val! We can’t show up at your brother’s wedding reeking of sex,” I panted.

“You’ll put your hands in the sink and magic the smell away,” he groaned, pushing his cock into me harder.

I gripped the edge of the sink and fought to keep my eyes open as pleasure washed through me. “I don’t know if I can make the smell of sex go away with my powers,” I replied through gritted teeth. Stringing words together so that they made sense was getting more difficult as the sex progressed and I drew closer to orgasm. “And I know I can’t do anything about your wrinkled trousers,” I muttered.

“Shut up, Nyx. Stop talking and just fuck me,” Valerian growled. He shoved the top of my dress down and fondled my breasts with one hand. His other hand was between my thighs, teasing my clit.

I turned my head, seeking his mouth. He kissed me hard, his breathing totally out of control, his face flushed. I felt the heat in him rising and knew he was about to feed me his fire. My tongue twisted around his as the heat of his fire rushed through my veins, kicking my arousal up a notch. My knees began to shake as my orgasm hit me. The feel of Valerian’s cock within me, the cold marble of the counter beneath my fingers, Valerian’s hard chest pressing against my back and the wet heat of his tongue twisted around mine while the remnants of his fire still bubbled in my veins, made my orgasm burst inside me like fireworks. I felt Valerian coming too, the wet gush of his seed triggering another orgasm in me.

The sex was awesome. The aftermath was horrid. I had to be careful not to get anything on my dress. I had to clean up and look for my panties. I had to struggle into the panties and adjust my garter belt. Then I had to check my makeup and fix my hair. Fixing Valerian was rough. His pants were creased and I had to steam them while he was wearing them to get the wrinkles out.

“Ow! The steam is hot!” he complained as the steamer jetted out clouds and filled the bathroom.

“Suck it up, Val,” I warned him. “You’re a dragon. Heat doesn’t bother you.”

Valerian sighed heavily and let me finish. Once we were returned to our pristine pre-sex pre-wedding neatness, I sprayed myself with cologne and spritzed Val with his cologne. He frowned at me. “Nyx, go easy with that stuff,” he muttered with a cough.

I looked at the time. “Shit. Shit! Go get the car! We’re gonna be late!”

Valerian hitched up his sleeve and looked at his watch. “Damn. I’ll meet you at the front door,” he said, turning toward the bedroom. “Hurry!”

When Valerian had gone I went looking for my purse. I stuffed my Treo into it and turned toward the door when a voice stopped me.

“So affectionate,” Macaire said smoothly. “Stop talking and just fuck me. How romantic!”

Anger shot through me. “Get out, Macaire,” I said in a low tone.

Macaire frowned at me. “Now what kind of welcome is that for a relative?” he replied, his smile as cold as the North Sea.

I stopped myself from blinking in surprise. “You’re not my relative.” I kept my tone even and didn’t give away the fact that I had no clue what he was talking about.

He shook his blonde head and took off his wrap around sunglasses. “You think not? Best consult your Am fear-faire, my dear. Alfred knows more about your heritage than you do. Another reason why you are such a poor candidate to be the McClaren,” he murmured as he strolled around me.

I twisted, keeping him in sight at all times, wondering how much of my power was left from my shower. Macaire was playing some kind of game and I was very much afraid it was a deadly game. “I’m no candidate to be the McClaren. I AM the McClaren. There is no one else left in my line,” I gritted out, trying to get my anger under control.

“So you say, Nyx.” Macaire stopped by the French doors. He waved a hand and they opened. “You’d best speak to Alfred, and soon. He’s quite old, you know. Something could easily… happen to him.”

With a sharky grin, Macaire stepped through the French doors. They swished closed. I ran to them, but by the time I reached them, he was gone. Now, anger and fear warred within me. Macaire’s threats were barely veiled this time, and the clues he’d dropped had me scrambling for my phone. Then I saw the time and cursed.

I grabbed my purse and ran for the front of the chateau. As much as I didn’t want to have this conversation with Alfred in front of Valerian, now I was stuck. I was sure that bastard Macaire knew this too. He’d planned it all this way. Whatever the hell was going on with him, Alfred knew something about it. And calling Alfred in front of Val meant that now Val would know what it was too.

I ran out the front door of the chateau and jumped into the front seat of the Jaguar that Valerian was driving. As he raced down the drive, I stared at the Ogham rings. They were glowing faintly.

“What the fuck took you so long?” Valerian grumbled.

I reached into my purse and pulled out my phone. I hit the speed dial for my penthouse. “Business, Val. Really serious business,” I said.

My tone must have alerted him that something was wrong. He shot me a glance that was filled with worry. Then Alfred picked up.

“How the hell does Macaire know that you are my Am fear-faire?” I bit out, my voice shaking with anger.

On the other end of the phone, Alfred sighed. “I was afraid of this.”

“Afraid of what?” I almost yelled into the phone.

Valerian’s hands tightened on the wheel. “Nyx? What’s wrong?” he asked urgently.

I looked at him and said, “I don’t know Val. I just don’t know.”

The Name Game

So the other man in the menage didn’t wanna talk to me. He was letting Jared do all the talking. However, I think he’s been hanging out with Jen’s characters because when I was in the shower this morning, he explained to me that he was pissed. He’s not a Tim. He’s not an Austin. He’s … Kevin Kearney.

Ok, so I didn’t have his name right. My bad. But it was a little hard to get his name right when Jared was babbling away. While I was in the shower, Kevin explained to me just who he was and why. He’s so deep he makes Jared look like a dilettante.

Now that I’ve played the name game, Kevin talks to me more more easily. Venetia is still not talking much, but I think she’s just absorbing Kevin’s story. Eventually here, she’s gonna give me more of her motivations. After all, a single successful woman like her doesn’t need the baggage these two men are about to hand her. Let’s see what you think…

Venetia Colchester is a hedonist. At least, she wants to be. She’s been trying to get into the ultra exclusive Hedonist Club for nearly ten years, but entrance had been denied her. The owner of a successful software company, Venetia is looking for sexual games not a relationship. At least, that’s what she always told herself, until the day her company buys a smaller software company and she meets the man who owned it.

Jared Quentin wants to retire. He’s tired of the rat race. All he wants to do now is enjoy his money, work occasionally on programming, and have kids. The problem is, Jared doesn’t have a wife or a girlfriend. As new owner of the Hedonist Club, Jared is the epitome of a hedonist. Multiple partners, no ties. Buying the club was a perfect fit for him. So how does a man with a sexually open lifestyle and no permanent female partners go about adding kids to the equation? By finding the one woman who could live his lifestyle with him.

Kevin Kearney was once at the top of his game. Tennis, that is. The US Open. The French Open. Wimbledon. The Australian Open. Kevin won them all in the same year. Then tragedy struck. Kevin was left to pick up the shattered pieces of his life and his knee. Filled with both physical and emotional pain, Kevin struggled for three long years until he met Jared at the Hedonist Club. The two men became best friends, sharing women for several years until the day Jared brought Venetia to the club. Kevin took one look at her and realized that all their fun and games were over… or were they?

It’s a twisted tale of three people who think that what they want in life is to be sexually free. For Venetia, that sexual freedom is set aside to give the man she’s fallen in love with his dream. For Jared, that freedom is willingly traded for a chance to have everything. And for Kevin, his heart may be locked away, but he can still meet the needs of his body and soul by sharing himself with his two best friends, so that none of them has to stop being a hedonist.

Not just a story of sex games now is it? Each of these characters has a twisted motivation to begin this menage. Each of them is selfish in the beginning. Soon, they each learn that it’s not about the taking of pleasure, but the giving.

So now that Kevin’s name is set, maybe he’ll stop listening to Jen’s characters and will leave me alone in the shower. Although, a shower with a tennis star sure sounded hot to me.

Shut Up!

Sometimes my characters talk too much. Here’s an example of this. The menage story started to take shape because the heroine started talking to me about one of the two heroes. She really likes him. He’s really hot. She drooled over him a little and then fell silent. So he started talking to me. He likes her too. He thinks she’s a good fit for his “lifestyle”. Then he started talking about the third party in the menage. In fact, he talked about him a lot. So much that I wanted to tell him to shut up.

So now Venetia is kinda quiet. I think she was listening to Jared talk too. Cause yanno, Jared seems to be able to talk about Tim (the 3rd in the menage) all day long. Seems Tim has an especially tragic background. This tragedy in his life is what has led him to a life of sex without commitment – other than friendship. I guess the reason Jared talks so much about Tim to me is that he’s trying to get Tim’s motivations through to me, but honestly, Tim coulda done it.

I hadn’t originally thought Jared would be the talkative kind. Apparently, I was wrong. Tim isn’t the talkative kind. He’s only said a little to me. He’s letting Jared do all the talking. I guess Venetia has decided to shut up too and let Jared talk. So annoying.

At just under 2200 words I stopped tonight because I really needed Venetia to talk to me, but Jared was still jabbering away. I stopped right at the point where Tim enters the story. He didn’t say anything except “Am I interrupting?” and then he went silent. Jared’s still blathering away in the background, and Venetia is awed by the young blonde god in front of her. I didn’t expect her to say anything. Right now, her boobs are doing all the talking she is capable of.

I think the other reason I had to stop was because I’m not sure I like Tim’s name. I’m starting to see Tim Allen and that is so not who this guy is. Maybe Kevin would be a better name… or Max. No, not Max. I need a California surfer boy name that isn’t a wussy name. I suppose stopping was the right thing to do because now I need to play the name game.

Meanwhile, Jared is still droning on at the back of my head. I swear this man has it ALL figured out. Maybe he needs to be the one who ends up having issues. Certainly, if he keeps talking too much, I’m gonna have issues with HIM.

What do you think? Should I risk him getting offended and just tell old Jared to shut up? Or do I just let him control the flow? I may have to take drastic measures or I’ll never get to sleep!