EXCERPT: Stephanie Adkins's Enough
An Excerpt from Enough
Stephanie Adkins
Genre: Erotic Contemporary
Length: Novella
Price: $4.99
http://www.loose-id.com/Enough.aspx
When does "too much" become "enough"? As far as Morgan Shay is concerned, the sex and the parties can never be enough. Determined to live her life to the extreme, she never once blinks an eye when it comes to romps in the sack with men, women...anyone who strikes her fancy or makes her panties wet. But when faced with a psychotic ex-lover, Morgan soon realizes that "too much" has dire consequences she never dreamed possible.
Best friend and partner in all things wicked, Dalton watches from the sidelines as Morgan slowly descends into a lifestyle that, for him, has become monotonous and lonely. Can his love for her save her from the dangers of a life on the edge? How do you even go about being "enough" for the one you love when all that person wants is "too much"?
Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Exhibitionism, menage (m/f/m), voyeurism.
~ * ~
From his secluded spot by the front door, Dalton Hartfield grinned widely as he watched his best friend, Morgan, using her feminine wiles to charm Mr. Davis, the aging gentleman standing across from her at the sales counter. As she leaned forward, it was blatantly obvious that she wanted to make sure Mr. Davis had a perfect view of her cleavage and a small hint of the black lace camisole that peeked from underneath her blouse. When she placed the coins and receipt in his outstretched hand, Dalton smirked as she smiled temptingly and grazed her fingernails slowly across Mr. Davis's palm. There was nothing Morgan Shay wouldn't do for attention.
"Now remember: five drops of patchouli, two drops of sandalwood, and two drops of rose lightly sprinkled around the room, and I promise you Mrs. Davis won't be able to keep her hands off you," she said with a twinkle in her eyes.
Once he was able to pry his gaze from her breasts, Mr. Davis put the money in his pants pocket, trying to conceal the excitement that was very evident in his flushed cheeks.
"I'll let you know how it goes," he replied with a wink.
Morgan leaned in closer and batted her eyelashes seductively. "I'd love to hear all the naughty details," she whispered.
As he turned to leave, Mr. Davis almost jumped completely out of his skin when he saw Dalton standing close by. His crimson cheeks burned even hotter as he hurriedly picked up his shopping bag and made a beeline for the front door.
"Have a good day, Miss Shay," Mr. Davis called behind him after flashing her one last grin.
Dalton, his arms loaded down with paper bags and drinks, stepped quickly to the side to avoid being run over. Looking back at Morgan again, he started laughing as she buttoned up her shirt. "You know, someday you're going to give that poor old man a heart attack," he remarked after Mr. Davis closed the door behind him.
After he adjusted the bag and drinks in his arms, he locked the door and propped the OUT TO LUNCH sign in the front window. Morgan remained behind the sales counter, grinning from ear to ear.
"I have no idea what you're referring to."
"Of course you don't."
Once he set their lunch down on the counter, Dalton took off his jacket and loosened his tie while Morgan unpacked everything. Five days a week, for the past three years, they had eaten lunch together at her tiny shop.
"One of these days I'm going to make you buy lunch," he remarked with a smile before grabbing his usual spot on the extra stool beside Morgan.
She stuck out her tongue and smiled back at him.
"You say that all the time," she replied. "And, if memory serves, you haven't let me the past few times I've offered."
When he laughed and began unwrapping his sandwich, she reached under the counter and retrieved what resembled a small set of binoculars. With his mouth agape, Dalton stopped what he was doing and watched in astonishment as she zeroed in on the new fitness center across the street.
"Please tell me I'm not seeing this. Tell me you didn't buy binoculars to spy on those fitness instructors over there. You know that almost errs on the side of stalking, don't you?" He shook his head in disbelief.
Morgan looked at him with a guilty grin. "It's not stalking. It's.observing," she said.
Dalton rolled his eyes and finished unwrapping his sandwich. It shouldn't have surprised him she would go so far as to buy binoculars to get a better view. He knew her well enough to know she rarely did anything conventional.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night," he replied, chuckling.
"Besides, it's not just hot male instructors. There are women too. Want to see?" she asked, holding out the binoculars for him to look.
Dalton shook his head before taking a sip of his soda.
"I believe you."
With a shrug of her shoulders, she placed the binoculars back underneath the counter and sighed. "I don't know why I haven't gone over there and introduced myself yet. Maybe I'm just losing my touch."
"I doubt that." Dalton smirked. "But, if you're serious, maybe a hot fitness instructor is what you need to get your groove back. Maybe you should get your freak on over there on one of those workout benches."
Morgan crumpled the napkin resting on her lap and threw it at him, just barely missing his head as he ducked out of the way and laughed again. She put down her sandwich and looked longingly across the street.
"No, I don't think a fitness instructor is what I need," she replied, thoughtfully. "But, you know, I have been thinking about something else the past few days."
Dalton sat up straight and gave her a wary look when she smiled at him. He knew all too well that when she focused on anything intensely, it usually meant he was involved somehow.
"Oh no."
Morgan grabbed her stool and moved it closer to his. "Are you going to the masquerade party at Lana's house this weekend?" she asked.
He shook his head. "I'll be working overtime at the gallery this weekend trying to get everything ready for the exhibition next week."
Morgan frowned. He knew she was probably tired of hearing his excuses, but unfortunately it was just the way things had to be.
"Dalton, have I done something wrong?" she asked softly as she placed a hand on top of his arm. "We used to be inseparable, but we've hardly spent any time together these past couple of months. When I ask you about going out, you always seem to have other plans. If I'm the one at fault, I wish you would tell me so I can make it right."
Dalton swallowed hard and avoided her gaze by staring out the window instead. "No," he replied. "You haven't done anything wrong."
She squeezed his arm and smiled warily. "Then tell me what's going on with you."
He set his sandwich down and took both of her hands in his own as he turned on his stool to face her. For the longest moment, he didn't know what to say.
"I'm sorry, Morgan," he replied. "You.you know how I feel about you. How I've always felt about you."
She nodded her head and waited for him to continue, but he looked down at their hands and avoided her gaze again. After handing him a bright red flyer and inviting him to the grand opening of her new aromatherapy shop three years prior, he had tried to engage in some flirty conversation with her, but she'd made it clear from the very beginning that she wasn't interested. At first, he didn't know whether to be amused or offended. He wasn't used to women-or men-brushing him off so easily.
A relationship wasn't born that day, but an unorthodox friendship was. Though his feelings had never changed since their first encounter, their arrangement was the way they both agreed it should be in order to sustain their close friendship. Being her uninhibited best friend was easier than waiting for her to settle down, which they both knew wasn't going to happen anytime soon, though he kept hoping and teasing her about it.
"I know you don't like talking about this, but you have to understand it's getting harder to.watch you. I'm your best friend, and I'll always be your best friend, Morgan, but."
She squeezed his hands and stopped him from going any further. They'd had this discussion a couple of times in the past, and he knew it made her feel uncomfortable. It wasn't that she didn't love him in return, because she did, but he knew it was the love of a friend and nothing more.
"I'm sorry, Dalton."
Before she could say anything else, he stopped her short by holding up one hand between them and nodding his head. He attempted to smile at her, but as usual he felt embarrassed having to explain himself again. Some things would never change, and as hard as it had been to accept, he had no other choice but to do just that.
"It's okay," he said, letting go of her other hand. "So what's this you've been thinking about lately?"
Morgan smiled sheepishly. "Oh.right. Well, you know I'll be turning thirty in a couple of months."
He looked at her with questioning eyes. "Yes. Go on."
She exhaled slowly as if debating how to continue. "Well, see, there's one fantasy I've yet to make come true."
"I find that very hard to believe."
She punched him lightly on the shoulder. "Stop laughing. I'm serious. I've always wanted to have sex with a gorgeous stranger dressed in black, like a pirate or a swordsman costume. Someone with a black cape and a black mask. No talking. I don't want to know his name or anything about him. I just want sex."
"I'm not so crazy about the stranger part of it." He looked at her disapprovingly. "Morgan, I know you enjoy the excitement and all, but I worry about you, especially when I'm not there-"
Morgan reached out and pressed a finger to his lips to stop him. "I know, I know," she said. "That's why I thought maybe you could set me up with one of your friends. You know I trust your judgment. I want it to be mysterious, though. I don't want to know who it is."
Dalton thought for a moment. "But how would you even know it's him? There could be a hundred men there dressed in black costumes."
Morgan furrowed her eyebrows for a moment. "Oh! How about this? He could give me two white roses," she said excitedly. "No one but you knows those are my favorite flowers. You could tell him, and that way I'd know for sure he's the one. If you don't feel comfortable doing this, though, I'll understand, but I just really want this to happen before my birthday."
Dalton rolled his eyes. "You make it sound like turning thirty is a death sentence. I did that a few years ago, remember? It's not so bad."
"I know that," she replied. "It's just.I don't know. I can't explain it. I just really want to make this fantasy come true before then."
Dalton took a deep breath and tried to think of something other than what she was asking him to give. Just the thought of her in the arms of some cloaked stranger, whether he was a friend or not, was enough to rattle his nerves. Still, this was Morgan, and as usual his resolve weakened wherever she was concerned.
He slumped his shoulders in defeat and gave her a halfhearted smile.
"All right. I'll see what I can do."
* * * * *
Morgan had never seen so many unusual characters in her life. As she walked through the large living room of Lana's lake house, she couldn't stop giggling at her friends as they danced in their costumes. The celebration was in full swing, and the rooms were packed to overflowing with partygoers. People were dressed in everything from the tame to the extremely wild.
She had opted for the in-between with her gold and black pirate wench outfit. The short skirt showed off her long legs, and the fitted top pushed up her cleavage in a way that left the men ogling after her. Several had tried to put their hands on her thigh-high stockings and black stiletto boots, but she had politely brushed them away.
She only wanted one man tonight, and so far he hadn't made his presence known. Her heart pounded as she scanned the room one more time. There were several men dressed in black with a cape and mask, just as Dalton had predicted, but they had all brought dates. She had gotten few details from Dalton that week other than everything was set in motion. Curiosity almost got the best of her, but he held true to his word not letting her know which of his friends he had chosen. She had always trusted his judgment, though, so she wasn't worried.
After a couple of hours spent dancing and mingling, she wondered if her stranger had changed his mind as the clock on the wall neared midnight.
Disheartened, she made her way out the back door of the house unnoticed while the party continued. As she walked down the long brick stairway to the swimming pool, she felt almost embarrassed for suggesting the idea in the first place. She should have known it was too much to hope for.
Morgan stopped by one of the lounge chairs and removed her boots before walking over to the cool water to dip her toes in, which made her shiver. No one else was around, and for a moment she seriously considered stripping down to her bra and panties and diving in. The wind felt good against her skin and the water looked inviting; it was also the first of October, so it was a bit too chilly for swimming. Besides, it was late, and she really had no reason to stay.
Resigned, she turned to collect her things, when a man suddenly stepped into her path, startling her. She gasped as her heart leaped into her throat, and for a split second she contemplated running, but she was too intrigued to move.
He was dressed in solid black, from his pants and shirt to his cape and mask. His head was covered in a black rag tied securely in the back, and as he drew closer she felt her heartbeat quicken. Her hands began to tremble. It's him. Just moments before, she had been discouraged that her fantasy wouldn't come true, and now that the moment was upon her, she was suddenly as anxious as a schoolgirl on her first date. What if the night turned into a total disaster? What if she didn't meet his expectations? What if he didn't meet hers?
Morgan closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath as he came to stand in front of her. She berated herself for being so skittish. It wasn't like this was the first time she had ever been with a stranger. Besides, this was a friend of Dalton's. She knew he would never set her up with someone he didn't trust implicitly.
From underneath his cape, he presented her with two beautiful long-stemmed white roses. When she took them from his hand, she looked up at him, trying to make out some distinctive feature, yet only the bottom half of his face was visible. In the dim light, she couldn't determine the color of his eyes or even his hair, barely visible from underneath the rag.
Her knees weakened as he placed his hands on each side of her face. He leaned forward and kissed her gently, a motion so delicate it felt almost like a warm breeze instead of an actual kiss. Her eyes closed; she grew dizzy as he kissed her again, this time a bit more intently.
Inhaling deeply, she opened her mouth to accept his tongue as he wrapped her in his arms, pulling her close against his body. She felt his muscles tighten beneath his shirt, and the hardness of his cock pressed against her lower stomach, making her whimper. His body felt wonderful. His mouth was hot. His tongue, seeking. Just as she felt ready to collapse at his feet, he pulled away from her.
She couldn't speak. Even if she could, she didn't trust herself to do so. It had been a long time since she had been with a complete stranger. Lately she had become accustomed to the usual one-night stands and uninhibited trysts with men and women she had been with before. Yes, they were all satisfying experiences, but there was never any mystery.nothing like this.
In mere seconds, this unknown man had weakened her even before he took her hand in his and led her to the adjoining pool house. She had only been in there once before, with Lana and a couple of their girlfriends many months ago. Lana's husband, Thomas, had been away on a business trip at the time, so she had asked them to come over for an afternoon of swimming.
After several margaritas and playful teasing, the four women had wound up naked in the pool house, away from Lana's servants and nosy neighbors. The sex had been incredible, making it an unforgettable afternoon that they still talked about often. They were all anxious for Lana's husband to go away on another business trip soon.
When her masked stranger closed the door behind them, Morgan turned to face him. She wanted to switch the lights on, but she knew it would be too risky with the other party attendants nearby, so she let her eyes adjust to the faint glow of the pool lights shining through the windows.
When he took a couple of steps toward her, her legs teetered on the verge of crumbling once again. For once in her life she felt unsure of what to do next. Usually she was the one in control, but against this man's tall and daunting frame, she felt almost powerless.
With a hand on the door, he leaned in close, so close that she could feel his breath against her lips. He smelled so good. The heady scent of sheer raw masculinity made her tremble in such a way that she wondered if she would be able to go through with it.
His lips were close to hers now, and for a moment she closed her eyes and breathed him in, waiting anxiously for him to kiss her again. Yet he never did. He reached out his other hand and drew a tantalizing trail across her throat and over her breasts, stopping briefly to caress the hardened nipples, which protruded from beneath her blouse.
Morgan dropped the roses to the floor, pressed her palms flat against the door, and tried to remain standing. As her breathing grew increasingly ragged, she marveled at how he could remain so serene while she steadily unraveled at the seams with every kiss and caress. While her breasts heaved against his touch, her lips began to shake with his so close to her own, and he never batted an eye at her undoing. It was maddening. When she leaned her head closer and attempted to kiss him, he stepped back.
"Please," she whispered.
© Stephanie Adkins, March 2010
All Rights Reserved