Search This Blog

Monday, July 25, 2011


Tuesday Tales continue today. Join me, J.F. Jenkins and Kay Springsteen,other Astraea Press authors, as we write short stories to a word prompt. The prompt this week is "railroad station". For Kay it's "necklace." To read the full stories, click on the author's name. To read my story, "Mint Chip", simply scroll down.

I get back home and try to be as quiet as possible as I enter because Petey should be asleep by now. Should be, being the keywords.

As he wandered by a glassed-in shelf unit he’d passed probably a dozen times over the weekend, Kevin was struck for the first time that the dainty shelf with the miniature blown glass collectibles seemed more than a bit out of character for Lina.

Jean Joachim

For Chapters 1-7
Click here
Chapter Eight
             “When are you moving in?” Clint asked.
            “Wait a minute! I don’t want to lose you but did we agree to move in together? “
            “Isn’t that what ‘never let you goes’ means? That’s what it means to me.”
            Nina looked down at her fork then up at Clint’s hopeful face.
            “You want us to be together?”
            He nodded.
            “All the time. I want to wake up with you every morning.”
            “Oh, Clint,” she said and flew into his arms.
            He held her close as tears pricked her eyes. It had been a long time since a man said that to her…and an even longer time since he meant it. A small sob escaped her control and her shoulders trembled slightly.
            “You okay?” he asked, holding her out at arms-length, his gaze inspecting her face.
            Unable to speak, Nina nodded and hid her face in his shoulder.
            “More than…” she muttered.
            Clint stood up and took her by the hand. He led her over to the rocking chair, sat down and pulled her into his lap, closing an arm around her shoulders. She curled up and pressed herself into his chest. A smile refused to leave her face and a new light shone in her eyes.
            “Soooo, are you going to move in or am I?”
            “Since I own my place, why don’t you move in with me,” she suggested.
            “You definitely have the better kitchen, ” he remarked.
            “Settled then. When?”
            “How long until you go back to school?”
            “School doesn’t start for four weeks,” he said, stroking her hair.
            “We can make the most of that time,” she said, absently rubbing her cheek against his chest.
            As she turned her head to look up into his eyes, his mouth came down on hers with a hard kiss while he slipped his hand under the big shirt she wore. His hand kneaded her breast while his tongue stroked and teased hers. Her arms wound around his neck as his hand abandoned her warm flesh to attack the buttons of her shirt. Once he had it opened, he gathered her in his arms and slid both of them down to the rug.
            “Nina,” he breathed in her ear as he pushed the shirt off her shoulder while she unfastened his shorts.
He slipped them off quickly so he could get down to
examining her. He found her center slick and warm. His hands wandered over her body squeezing, caressing and exploring until she was squirming under him. His lips kissed up and down her neck, down to her breast and over her belly as he positioned himself between her legs. She made a tiny gasp of delight at every new touch and dug her fingers into his shoulders.
            As her breathing quickened, Nina moved under him, freeing up her hand. Her fingers closed over him, eliciting a groan from his lips.
            “Okay, okay…I know…you’re ready for me,” he muttered.
            He entered her making them both moan. He buried his face in her shoulder, picking up the faint gardenia scent of the perfume she always wore. Its gentle sweetness excited him and he picked up the pace. Her hips followed his rhythm as they loved each other.  Clint tightened his control when he felt Nina’s intensity climbing, her fingers digging into his back, sweat forming tiny beads on her forehead and moans of pleasure escaping her lips.       
            Her release came shortly before his control went out the window. He followed her quickly. They lay panting on the floor. Nina rolled over and Clint saw the burn on her lower back. He touched the raw skin and she jumped.
            “Ow!” She exclaimed, turning to look at him.
            “Rug burn. I’m so sorry, babe,” he said, leaning over to kiss the burned area.
            “A souvenir,” she chuckled.
            Clint got up and went into the bathroom. In a minute he returned with antiseptic cream and a band-aid. He applied both gently to the burn. While he was taking care of her injury, she asked him,
            “Why did you decide to become a teacher?”
            “My dad was in sales. He made good money but he traveled all the time. I remember when I was eight years old, fighting with him about my baseball game. I wanted him to come and he kept saying he couldn’t. I followed him to the railroad station and watched him board the train for what seemed like the millionth time. He waved goodbye but I was furious… it took me years to forgive him.  Then and there I decided that when I grew up, my job wouldn’t take me away from my family…ever.”
            Nina put her palm on his cheek.
            “You did what you said you would. You’re there for your son.”
            “A lot of good it did. I might as well be a traveling salesman now. With the divorce, I’m gone from him almost as much as my dad was,” he said, looking out the window to watch a chickadee fly from the bird feeder.
            “Why didn’t you become a writer?” she probed.
            “Nobody thought I could. My parents thought being a writer was a foolish waste of time…a pipe dream. ‘Who did I think I was, Eugene O’Neill?’…I heard that plenty.”
            “I think you’re better than O’Neill,” she whispered in his ear.
            “You’re the only one who thinks so.”
            “Wait and see. I’m never wrong about talent.”
            “Pretty confident about your judgment, aren’t you?” he teased.
            “Damn right. You’re special…talented, very…you’ll see.”
            “That’s why I love  you.”
            “Because I think you’re good?”
            “Because you believe in me,” he explained.
            Nina took the papers from the band-aid and mushed them together. She stood up and made her way to the garbage can, her eyes bright. Clint stood up and followed her to the kitchen.
            “Can we re-heat the coffee?” he asked.
            “Sure,” she said, turning away from him.
            “I’d like to go over your last speech. Maybe we can divide it in half and put Annie in the middle, like you suggested,” he said, picking up her copy of the script.
            Nina poured coffee and put the mugs in the microwave before she retrieved the big shirt and his shorts. She delivered the coffee to a small table and then curled up next to Clint on the sofa while he marked up the script.
            “Here, try this,” he said, handing her the script then picking up his cup and taking a sip.

Get "Sunny Days, Moonlit Nights" ebook at:
Astraea Press (all formats)

A little bit about the book:
Caroline “Sunny” Davis has it all, a rich husband, career as a well-known artist and a big, beautiful house, she has everything except happiness. Fleeing from a philandering husband, she returns to her family’s cabin in the woods. Looking to reconnect with happier times while she sorts out her life, Sunny is surprised to meet up with someone she hasn’t seen in twenty years.

Mike Foster, her friend, her protector from childhood is more handsome and devastating than ever. Tempted almost beyond endurance, can she resist him…if it’s for his own good? This story about rekindled friendship will warm your heart.

No comments: