Friday, August 14, 2015

Four Alarm Friday

It seems the last few days all I've read or written have been sex scenes. Editing is a lot of fun, and a dream job, and most of the time I get to read a good story, fix final grammar errors and then I'm done.

Not this week. The stories I've edited would have firemen busy with flames so high there would be no recovery. My husband is on the receiving end at the close of the day when I have novels like the last few.

For some reason, those stories helped my writing on my own sex scene that much easier. Don't worry, I didn't use anyone else's ideas. I guess the mindset just helped me put the scene together that much faster.

Here's an excerpt:

Her body quivered and she whimpered her need, as his teeth nipped the soft spot behind her ear.
“Cold?”
“Unh.” The temperature in the room soared to sweltering, and Jacy was surprised steam wasn’t coming off the dishwater, fogging the window in front of them. She searched the sudsy water for the rag she’d dropped, trying not to think how she’d like to soap up Trace’s chest after hot, sweaty, monkey sex. “Gotcha,” she muttered lowly, then almost jumped out of her skin when Trace’s fingers entwined with hers again.
This time they concentrated on washing the rest of the dishes. Or so she thought.
He let her set the pace. Slow and languid, meticulously washing each tine of a fork, circling their thumbs on the inside of each spoon, sliding the cloth up and down the length of each knife.
“Baby, you’re killing me.” His words came out on a groan. Was he serious? She was putty in his hands? He was the one who had his body wrapped around hers. His hands sliding up and down, caressing her arms, his thumbs brushing her palms as she washed each item. What they’d begun earlier had nothing on this sensual washing of dishes mimicking sex.
“AhhhSssssss.” She let out a cry and hiss and nearly jumped out of her skin. “Wa…water…” she stuttered, wet dripping off his hands. “Oh, I liked this dress.” She looked down at her bodice.
“I do, too.” He tucked her into his body, her head beneath his chin. He cupped her breasts, his deft thumbs circled her nipples. “Such easy access to your delectable body.”
“Trace.” She didn’t mean to whine, but hands full of water plastered the front of her dress to every curve body like glue.
“Mmm?”
“Umm…uh…” Jacy closed her eyes, trying to force her body to settle. Fine tremors flowed through her like cracks in a glass ready to shatter. She gasped and started to protest at the trail of water his hand made up her arm. What was the use, she was already wet.
“Mmm.” He sank his face in the locks of her hair, inhaling deeply.
“You smell delicious, baby, like strawberries.”

The back of his knuckles brushed the side of her breasts. Jacy’s breath caught in her throat. The cooling water had her nipples beading to hard points. His fingers traced a wet trail across her chest while his thumbs circled her nipples. 


Historical Euphemism of the day for Sex

Labor Leather Time Period: 1500 - 1600 Leather needs to be conditioned to keep soft and pliable aka lots and lots of practice in bed.