Robyn Michaels’ Weblog

Another short flash piece I wrote.

Primal Male – Kellen

by Robyn Michaels

©All Rights Reserved

            Kellen tightly leashed the beast fighting to break free from its restraint within him.  He had never had such trouble retaining his control in the presence of a woman. Something about the woman across the room from him had his beast chomping at the bit to get to her.  The beast wanted to touch her, taste her, devour her and keep her with him forever.

            Who was this vixen?  He knew that he would remember her if he’d ever seen her before.  There was no way he would forget that long midnight black hair currently hanging loosely around her heart-shaped face, flowing over her shoulders and down her back in gentle waves. Her creamy skin possessed a healthy glow even under the harshness of fluorescent lights.  Jade green eyes were completely focused on her companion who stood with her back to him. The goddess’ perfect, bow shaped mouth tipped up in a smile at something her friend said, causing her nose to crinkle slightly and giving her a playful expression.  Her hourglass figure was reminiscent of such beauties as Marilyn Monroe and Jayne Mansfield, all lush curves, pillowy breasts and long, long legs. The light, gauzy red dress she wore hugged her body, showcasing her figure to perfection.

            Kellen silently groaned as his mind conjured images of the beautiful woman spread out naked on his bed.  Her black hair spread across his pillows, her eyes heavy lidded with desire as she gazed up at him through thick lashes.  He could imagine the feel of her soft skin as he caressed every inch of her delectable body. He would take his time kissing her one inch at a time. He would part her luscious thighs and settle in for a feast. Her cream would flow over his tongue as he licked her pussy, urging her body to climax. Once he made her scream in ecstasy using just his mouth, he would bring her to orgasm again and again with his hands and his cock.  He could picture riding her, and her riding him, until they were both exhausted from the passion they shared.

            His inner wolf again strained against its leash as it desperately tried to get closer to the goddess it wanted to claim in the most primal way possible.  His human half wanted the same thing that his wolf did. Both parts of his soul recognized this woman, his woman. Kellen knew that this woman was his future, his heart and soul – his mate.

            “Kellen!” Charity Grayson shouted as she literally flung herself into his arms. Kellen finally realized he knew the goddess’ companion.  His brother Keene’s wife had to be the most enthusiastic and boisterous member of their Pack.  “When did you get back?”

            “Just now, Char.”  He smiled indulgently at his sister-in-law before stepping back from her embrace and glancing down at her pronounced belly. “And, how is my nephew doing?”

            “They are doing fine.  Me…not so much.” She grimaced. “I feel like a beached whale waddling around on dry land.”

            “They?”

            “Oh, yes, didn’t Keene call you?” Rolling her eyes, she continued, “Can you believe we’re having triplets?”

            “Wow, no, he didn’t say. I guess he was waiting until I got back home.” To say he was stunned would have been an understatement.

            “Ah, well anyway, let me introduce you to our newest potential pack member.” Charity turned and motioned for the goddess to join them.  “Kellen, this is Amber Larson. Amber, this is Keene’s brother, Kellen Grayson. He’s our Pack Alpha.”

            “It’s nice to meet you Mr. Grayson.” Amber held out her hand and Kellen clasped it in both his much larger ones. Her jade eyes sparkled as she smiled up at him. His cock jerked to full attention, hard as iron and ready for action.

            “The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Larson.”  His wolf was howling for release, needing to mark Amber and claim her as its mate.  Kellen could feel Amber’s pulse through their joined hands. It was racing as quickly as his own.  “Why is it that you want to join the Graystone Pack?”

            “Well, Mr. Grayson…”

            “Call me Kellen, please.  And, may I call you Amber?”

            “Yes, of course.  Kellen.  I heard that your pack was in need of a doctor and my old pack had three of us.  I had been considering a change and this seemed to be the perfect opportunity.”

            “Which pack do you come from?”

            “She was born to the Ravenclaw pack.” Charity interjected.

            “Ah, Gerraty’s pack.”  He cocked his head, considering her words. “We’re a much smaller pack than your old one, and a much younger pack.  We’ve only been established for forty years.”

            “Are you trying to talk me out of joining?” She smiled at him, causing his heart rate to increase and his cock to swell even more.

            “No, I would never do that.”  His gaze raked her from head to toe before his black eyes locked with her jade ones. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you Amber.” His voice was rough with unmistakable desire.

Another short flash I recently wrote.

Reunion

            As I walked into the packed bar, I recognized his face immediately.  How could I not? I’d loved him for most of my adult life, even after he broke my heart.

Rex Ames, in all his blond, surfer-god glory, sat on a barstool, leaning back against the bar surveying the crowded dance floor. He resembled a predator seeking prey. Well defined abs accentuated by the light colored Under Armor shirt pulled taut across his chest. Faded blue jeans looked as good on him as ever. His signature shit-kicker boots completed the outfit. A glass dangled from his fingertips. My guess would be whiskey, straight. After all, some things never changed.

            Had it really been two years since he’d walked out and taken the largest part of my soul with him?  “It’s just not working anymore, Cassie. I’m smothering here. I love you, but this town, this life, it’s killing me.”  I still hear those words in my sleep, usually just before waking up to find his side of our bed empty. I’d never moved from our apartment because inside I kept hoping he would come back. I wanted him to be able to find me.

We met when we were sophomores in college, both majoring in computer programming and clicked immediately. I’d never met anyone like him. His intelligence, good looks and acerbic wit made him the most popular guy on campus. Even before we met, I knew who Rex Ames was. Hell, who didn’t know his reputation? He was good-looking, popular, smart, and the women loved him, as well as a few men.  What made Rex special was the fact that he wasn’t a playboy.  He didn’t flit from woman to woman like most guys our age.  Once we met, we dated exclusively through the rest of college and began living together senior year. Three years after we graduated, we were to be married in a small, intimate ceremony.  Five days before the wedding, he left me.  Not a word, not a postcard, nothing since that night. I’m still not sure what went wrong.

I stood in the bar’s doorway trying to decide whether to follow my friends inside and ignore Rex, stride over and confront him about his disappearance, or slink back to my apartment and hide.

I knew the instant he saw me. I felt it in my bones. My knees nearly buckled, my stomach lurched, and my breath caught in my lungs. His smoky grey eyes sparked with recognition as his gaze slid down and up my body. He set his glass on the bar, stood and started toward me. He looked neither left nor right, focused solely on me. I suddenly knew what a rabbit felt like as the big bad wolf bore down on it with hunger in its eyes.

He stopped within arm’s reach and a look of sadness and regret chased across his face.

“God, Cassie baby, I’ve missed you.”

I slapped his face as hard as I could before walking away.  I refused to look back.

© Robyn Michaels

All rights reserved.

Here’s a short flash I wrote a few weeks ago.  It’s got a little comedy with some sex mixed in.

        Finally!  We’d been dating for three and a half months and something always seemed to keep us from ‘consummating’ our union. What a hokey phrase for something so delicious and fun. Initially, there was the flash flood that stranded Duncan at work on the night we’d planned to make love for the first time. That was followed by the hold-up at the liquor store four days later when he stopped to pick up a bottle of wine for our “special” dinner.  Not to mention the incident with the hornets’ nest that left parts of Duncan’s anatomy swollen, and not in a good way. He’s no longer allowed to go berry picking with his niece and nephew. Oh, and let’s not forget the meteor incident that left a hole smoldering in the center of the engine in Duncan’s vintage 1965 Ford Mustang.  I swear I was beginning to think that someone up there just didn’t want us getting together.

        But, at last, here we are…dinner went without a hitch, no waiters setting us on fire; the drive back to my apartment was accident free; and, with keys in hand, we’re ready to embark on the next level of our relationship.

        After unlocking the door, I suddenly find myself rushed over the threshold and ushered into the living room.  I hear the door close and the lock snick as I come to a stop next to my ugly blue and burgundy plaid sofa; which I’d inherited from my older brother.  I shudder to think of the things that might have happened on that ugly piece of furniture; but, beggars can’t be choosers and a college senior with little disposable income has few choices.

        Duncan doesn’t say anything as he stops in front of me. Taking my hand in his much larger one, he leads me toward the bedroom.  Neither of us speaks for fear that it will break the magic and cause some new catastrophe to befall us. He knows his way around my bedroom. It’s not like we’ve never done anything – we’ve just not made love.  He flips on the lamp on the bedside table, tugs me closer before releasing my hand to wrap his arms around me. His palms settle on my ass, pulling my body flush with his. I feel the evidence of his desire for me, straining the front of his jeans. He leans down and brushes his lips against mine, lightly at first, but quickly growing firmer and more demanding. His tongue sweeps inside my mouth before retreating; mine follows, slipping into the warm cavern of his mouth, earning a deep guttural moan from him.  Our hands roam over each other’s bodies, pulling and tugging at the clothes keeping us from one another.  Urgency demands that we rid ourselves of anything impeding the feeling of flesh on flesh.

        When there’s nothing between us except the silky expanse of skin, Duncan tumbles me to the bed, following me down. Suddenly, his mouth is everywhere, my face, my neck, my chest, my stomach; blazing a trail to his ultimate goal. He licks and nibbles the lips of my sex. His tongue dives inside, sucking and licking in wild abandon, winding me up, higher and higher.  Just as I reach the apex, the pinnacle, he stops. I moan in disappointment, but not for long. 

I hear the ripping of a foil package and know that he has not forgotten protection. I did not remember. All I can think of is Duncan being inside of me. I need him and then, amazingly, he’s there. I feel the thrust of his hard cock push inside me in a single stroke. I’m so full, so wonderfully full. I wish I could stay like this forever, one with this man I’ve fallen in love with. But then he moves. Oh, how he moves. Thrusts, retreats, swirls of his hips. I match his every move with ones of my own.  I feel that pinnacle again within my grasp. Our breaths are harsh in the quiet of my room, the sounds building to a crescendo. Faster and harder, Duncan pounds into me; higher and higher I spiral until, until…oh, goddess, until I scream, or he screams. Or, maybe, we both do. I feel the warmth of his come spilling into the condom as my muscles spasm and clamp down wildly. 

Finally! But, oh, it was so worth the wait.

© Robyn Michaels

All rights reserved.

Today I wrote a very short flash fiction based on the theme of “One Night Stands Revisited”.  This is what I came up with:

Until Now

            He’d been sitting at the bar, nursing a beer, for almost an hour. Something about him drew my attention.  A frisson of recognition niggled at my consciousness, urging me to remember…something. A few ‘ladies’ approached him, but he sent them on their way with a slight smile and a shake of his head.

            Unable to focus on my friends’ discussion, my mind, and my gaze, kept straying to that stranger, who didn’t seem like a stranger. I sat in one of the booths to one side of the bar, facing it and the man who I was obsessing over.

            Wavy brown hair, curling over the collar of his tight navy t-shirt tempted me to run my fingers through it. I knew, somehow, that it would be feather-soft. The shadow of a beard covered his strong, square jaws. Full kissable lips were presently set in a straight line, but I could easily picture them tilted up in a smile bright enough to illuminate the corners of that dim bar. Eyes the familiar color of rich, dark chocolate were fringed with long, nearly feminine, lashes and separated by an aquiline nose that, at some time, had been broken as evidenced by the tiny bump just visible in the low light.

            My thoughts were leading me down a dangerous path; there was no way this man could be who my mind was insisting that he was. That was over three years ago and five states away. My life had changed dramatically since that time.

            Three years ago, I’d been a scared kid, if you could call a twenty-two year old ‘kid’.  I’d just discovered I worked for some very bad people and turned them in to the Feds and was set to testify against them before entering Witness Protection. It had been the hardest decision of my life.

            As I stared at the stranger who wasn’t really a stranger, memory replayed my last night as the person I used to be. I’d slipped away from my guards and ducked into a bar similar to the one in which I currently sat. After a couple of drinks, he had approached me. Not much older than me, he was everything I thought was sexy – tall, dark and handsome, yet not at all vain about it.

            He bought me a drink and we talked for a while. As these things often happen, we went back to his apartment. He spent the night making me forget the shitty way my life was going. I told him my name, my real one not the new one I would assume the next day.

            After a fabulous and memorable night, I snuck out of his apartment and returned to the hotel where my guards awaited. They hustled me out and shipped me off to my new life.

            Nine months into my new life, I gazed down into a tiny face framed by curly brown hair and possessing chocolate colored eyes that I’d only seen one other time.

            Until now.

© Robyn Michaels

All Rights Reserved.