Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Excerpt Tuesday: Erotic Romance Truth or Dare

For the next quarter or so, I thought it would be neat to excerpt my many works, a different one each week, and offer a peek of the story you won't find on any of the store sites. Since this is the first week, why not start with my first romance?

Truth or Dare is the first novel of the Dareville series, and it won't be the last. I promise to Ged, I am working on the fifth novel-length work. It will take a bit more research given the setting, but I hope to have it done. There are too many good stories left to tell in this little town. For now, enjoy this one!


The blood pounded in Ellie’s ears; she could not hear her footsteps crunching through the gravel, or feel her legs as she rushed back toward the store to where the Brady Garriston look-alike stood. She could not let him walk in there, not while Lauren and Jake were still roaming the aisles. What if they saw him? They would react the same way she did, or perhaps worse, and maybe even accuse Ellie of holding out on them. He might not be so fortunate to get a word in edgewise with Lauren before being recruited to perform for some concert.

Not that Ellie had actually promised to deliver Brady Garriston for a benefit concert, but this poor guy did not need to get in the middle of the school’s problems. If Lauren saw him, surely she would think Ellie had something to do with it.

She stopped and thought a moment. Maybe he was the type of guy who would be willing to involve himself in the school’s problems. Maybe he was the charitable sort. Or was she that desperate to save the school, and save face, to say nothing of her job, to get him involved? To get him to commit fraud.

Come on, she scolded herself. You just met the man. You don’t know anything about him. You don’t even know his name.

“Wait!” she called again, and resumed her approach, a plan formulating in her mind.

The man paused and turned fully around to face her, his expression a mixture of amusement and curiosity. The doors slid shut behind him before he could enter.

“I…I know you’re not you who I thought you were back there, just now.” She hooked her thumb toward the parking lot, wanting to cry for sounding so silly. “But I’ve lived here a long time, and I feel I know just about everybody in town. I don’t know you, though.”

The man slowly nodded, and Ellie wondered if he thought she was hitting on him. That suspicion deepened as his lips curled into an appreciative smile and his gaze swept her skirt and peasant skirt, which she realized hugged her a bit too tightly and accentuated her full breasts. No wonder the school principal, Mr. Yost, had greeted her with such disapproval this morning at work. This was not the appropriate dress for an elementary school teacher, she could hear the stodgy old man saying.

“Gary Stone,” the man said, and offered his hand. It was a large hand with long, manicured fingers, the kind that could easily have found a home caressing a piano keyboard. It nearly swallowed her own as Ellie reciprocated the greeting.

Her entire body warmed to the touch. She saw those hands caressing a keyboard, then caressing a woman’s body, her body. Circling her waist and sliding upward to cup her breasts, rolling her nipples between those strong fingers. Bringing them closer to his face so he could lave each one tenderly with his tongue…

Down, girl. She pressed her thighs together to conceal the dampness she was certain would soon be trickling down her leg.

For all the time passed since Claire dumped the real Brady Garriston, the fantasies Ellie had harbored also faded into oblivion. Now they bubbled back to the surface. Why did this man have to look so much like him? Why did he have to release his grip?

“And you are correct,” he was saying, and Ellie snapped to attention. “I recently moved here from New York.”

“New York City?” Ellie brightened. “I have a cousin who lives there. Of course, I wouldn’t expect you to know her. I mean, there’s got to be, what, seven or eight million people living in New York? What are the odds that you might know her?” She was babbling and could not seem to stop; she felt suddenly silly and frightened. Gary Stone was going to think she was a loon, that maybe all of Dareville was like her.

“I don’t know, strangers things have happened,” Gary said with a laugh, but Ellie could easily see the discomfort on his face. She was spooking him, and he clearly wanted to bolt for the safety of the grocery store. In fact, his foot had depressed the trigger to reopen the doors, revealing the activity from within the store.

“Uh.” Ellie peered over his shoulder and spotted Lauren chatting with a checkout girl while digging through her purse. The woman had not spotted them, yet. Instinctively, Ellie grasped Gary by the arm and guided him away from the registers.

“What are you doing?” Gary asked, taken aback, but thankfully he did nothing to wrest away from Ellie.

“Well, seeing as how you’re new in town and all, I thought you might like a tour of Jake’s,” she said, and pulled him toward a stand about to avalanche with various types of apples.

Gary turned back to the entrance, and Ellie held back a gasp as his face momentarily became visible from the point of view of anybody at the checkout station. “Shouldn’t we get a cart or something first?” he said, pointing to the corral. “I have quite a lot to buy. I don’t think I can carry it all.”

“Oh, there’s usually an orphaned one idling somewhere in the dry goods aisle, don’t worry.” She held out her free hand in a show model’s gesture. “Now this is one of Jake’s many produce displays,” she said, trying her best to ignore the look of bewilderment on Gary Stone’s face. He still looked too much like Brady, regardless of how his brows creased. “As you can see, Jake offers a wide variety of apples. You got your Macintoshes, Red Delicious, Granny Smith…”

Gary stepped warily away from her. “Yes, we have apples in New York, too, uh…” He snapped his fingers, and Ellie let out an embarrassed laugh.

“Oh, God. I’m sorry. My name’s Ellie Shaw.” She quick-stepped to his other side to block the view from the checkout station, then cast a worried glance in that direction. How long did it take for Lauren to buy groceries? Was she telling the clerk the story of her life over there? “You must think I’m some kind of lunatic, dragging you all over a grocery store without telling you my name.”

“Well, you’ve only dragged me about fifty feet, which I suppose would seem sane for a small town like this. But now that I know your name, my opinion hasn’t changed much.” But Gary’s tone softened as Ellie cast her eyes downward. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he quickly added, “I didn’t mean it to sound like that. I guess I’m just not used to being accosted by people in public. You don’t see much of that in New York City.” He then lifted a shoulder in a tired shrug. “Actually, I shouldn’t say that, either. I’m sure people have been accosted in the city, though I doubt all the experiences are this pleasant.”

Ellie looked up at him, warming to the compliment. His smile nearly made her forget that she was not talking to Brady Garriston, and what a smile he had. He resembled any, if not all, of the CD covers in her collection. Such nice lips, she noticed. She would not have minded those lips on hers, or anywhere on her body.

She saw those lip nestled between her thighs, rubbing against her pussy, pursed against her clit and driving her to distraction.

She had to think of something else before her wild imagination caused her to orgasm right in the middle of the produce section. Sure, Jake’s stock was good, but not that good.

“Really?” She bit her lip. “You’ve never been accosted in the Big Apple? Not even for looking like a famous singer?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, the Brady thing.” Gary chuckled. “Well, living in New York has its advantages. Famous people walk around all the time and aren’t bothered.”

“Oh, man, if I ever got to New York I’d probably go nuts if I saw somebody famous.”

“I don’t know. You seemed pretty composed earlier.”

“Yeah, but that was—” Ellie stopped. She did not want to get into the whole story of Brady and Claire and Lauren’s ideas. “Nothing, it was nothing.”

She heard the doors whoosh open, and watched Lauren exit, her arms laden with paper sacks. At the far end of the store, she spied Jake slipping through a door leading to storage. Other shoppers glided past without a second look at them. Gary would be fine in the store by himself, she decided.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” she said finally. “I’m acting a bit crazy because of work problems. Not that I hate my job, I love it to death, but there’s a chance I could lose it, or be forced to take a pay cut, which means I might have to quit and find something that pays just as much or more but I like less.” She was babbling again, and Gary was eyeing her with such amusement that Ellie felt the heat rise to her face.

“You know what?” she added, backing away. “You’re not interested in my problems. I’m just going to wish you a good day and leave you to shop in peace, because I don’t want you to think we’re all like this here, a bunch of babbling loons.”

But Gary shook his head and offered a complacent smile. “No, you don’t have to go. Look over there.” True to Ellie’s earlier word, an orphaned cart came rolling listlessly toward them from an aisle, as if being pushed by a ghost. “Seems fate has destined us to this cart,” he said.

Ellie smirked. “Fate is not without a sense of humor. We would be given the one cart with the bum wheel.” She pointed to the wheel in question, which appeared to be stuck in an askew position, different than the others.

Her heart stopped. She had said we, as if they were a couple. What must he have thought of that? Soon she would graduate from apple stands to china patterns and send this guy screaming back to New York City for a bit of normalcy!

To her relief, he appeared unfazed by the slip. “Oh, it’ll work fine. Watch this.” He grasped the handlebar and bounced the cart twice, dislodging the wheel from its stuck position, then pushed the cart back and forth in a test run. “It’s all in the wrist.”

“Indeed it is,” Ellie said in appreciation. And Gary Stone had really nice wrists, and arms and shoulders, taut and strong in a short-sleeved shirt that pulled tightly across his chest as he arched his back and turned the cart in the opposite direction. He filled out that pair of black jeans nicely, too, she noticed, admiring the convex curve of the zipper hiding more of Gary Stone that she would not mind seeing.

Did the real Brady Garriston look this good up close? Was he this charming? If so, Claire was an idiot for letting go such a fine specimen of man.

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