Author's Note: Happy Early Christmas!
So I've hit a bit of a snag trying to get my second book published and instead of letting it collect dust on my hard drive while I save up the cash to hire an editor and self publish, I figured I might as well share some of it with you. After all, that's the whole point, right? Sure, I'd love to be one of those writers that doesn't have to hold a million other jobs to pay the bills, but in the end I just want to write stories that people read. And so, I present the first chapter of... THE SECRET OF HER STRENGTH.
This is Rosalie and Emmett's story (aka Natasha and Griffin in my original novel form - I did some quick and easy find and replace action for you!). I'll likely share some more chapters of this story over time but am not sure yet if I want to pick and chose the juicy scenes or publish them in order... so bear with me!
I hope you enjoy this early Christmas gift and let me know what you think!
xo KJ
I don't belong here.
The thought had been running on a loop in Rosalie's mind for the last hour, starting in the recesses of her brain until it grew too loud to be ignored. She literally didn't belong here.
Not only was Rosalie Hale supposed to be at some swanky hotel receiving an award as one of the 30 Under 30 Movers and Shakers in Boston but she also didn't hold a membership to the very exclusive club she just entered. The very sexy and naughty exclusive club. So exclusive it didn't even have a name. But it was amazing what eaves-dropping and a little money could buy. Like the location of the ever-drifting fantasy club and the night's password to get in. Rosalie secretly hoped her informant wasn't a member. She was curious, not desperate.
The location was grand. Someone's private residence deep in the old money world of Back Bay. What looked like a stately brownstone from the outside was in fact several brownstones interconnected once you walked through the doors. And there were many doors to walk through. It was dark and labyrinthine and almost exactly as Rosalie imagined it would be. Mixed in amongst the exquisite furniture and expensive artwork adorning the home were even more intriguing displays to behold.
Rosalie promised herself she wouldn't linger. She would take one night for herself. One night off from who she was supposed to be and indulge the passionate impulse that had been racing through her veins for too long. But after only a few dozen steps over the threshold from the normal world outside, Rosalie was more than lingering. The calculating and sensible part of her brain that usually dictated her every move was being drowned out by the more raw and sensual side. Rosalie's anxiety was already heightened due to the circumstances and the sights and sounds she was now bombarded with did little to calm the shiver of arousal in her core.
She entered a tiny alcove of a room that might have been a solarium under ordinary circumstances but the night pressed in on the windows arching across the ceiling and thick, dark curtains further enveloped the space in a private cocoon. The pale skin of the man and woman whose movement had enraptured Rosalie was a striking contrast to the dark around them. The woman knelt on the floor, knees spread wide and arms tied behind her back with a silky white ribbon. Her chest was thrust out, nipples straining in arousal. Rosalie breath caught as her gaze shifted to the man. He strode in tight circles around the woman, inspecting her. Nothing in his hands, no whips or belts, but the light touch his index finger grazed on the woman's skin was working better than any additional apparatus might. The woman shuddered under his touch and shifted her hips ever so slightly. Rosalie waited for the admonishment to come but instead the man beckoned the woman forward. She lifted onto her knees and curled her lips in a sensuous smile. Keeping her focus on the man's face, the woman slipped the tip of her tongue out to flick the pull of the zipper that strained over his crotch. Grasping the metal between her teeth, she pulled the zipper down and freed his erection. Rosalie took in another stilted breath as the woman sat back on her heels and opened her mouth. The man stepped forward and grasped her by the shoulders. Tongue out, the woman guided him into her mouth as he began a slow and sensuous thrust of his hips.
Murmurs stirred the air and Rosalie noticed several other pairings around her getting inspired by the scene. Taking one last look at the couple, Rosalie took a few brisk steps along the corridor. Each room she passed exhibited another fantasy come to life. As she continued deeper into the club she could feel the lust pressing in on her from all around. It was as if the pheromones were thick in the air, bidding her to shed her inhibitions. A terrifying thought but also the reason she had come.
Passing by a large, ornate mirror, Rosalie repositioned her mask and smoothed her hands across her bare stomach. There was no specific dress code for the club but risqué was par for the course. And although her outfit was miles away from what she would wear on an everyday basis, it was tame compared to what she was surrounded by. The simple shelf bra made of wide black lace bands looked as though she could be unwrapped and enjoyed in a matter of seconds. The very reason she had purchased it. The same could be said for her black leather leggings. Only the very observant would notice the garter-style cutouts that allowed for easy access should the situation arise.
Which is exactly what Rosalie had been counting on but now that she was here she was losing her nerve. She didn't have to wonder if this was really her. She knew it wasn't. It couldn't be. And even though Rosalie knew exactly who she wasn't she had even less of an idea of who she was. This had been an act of desperation and she knew it. An attempt to feel something. And while arousal and lust were definitely squeezing her stomach into a tangled knot, that was nothing new. Seven years out of a broken engagement and her hand wasn't quite getting the job done anymore.
Rosalie passed a room with a large circular bed in the middle of it. A woman lay in the center, sprawled out before a room of onlookers. Another woman was perched at the head of the bed, on spread knees that put her on display just as much as the woman in front of her. With slow, sensual moves, the dark-skinned beauty on the bed arched her back up to flick her tongue at the sheer panties that barely covered the curvy woman kneeling over her. Rosalie's pulse rose with each stroke of that long, pink tongue. She'd never been with a woman and hadn't really harbored any secret desires but watching the way they manipulated each other's bodies had Rosalie's mind wandering. Maybe her ex-fiancé hadn't been lacking skill so much as lacking the proper equipment. Maybe if he had a clit and breasts he might've known what to do with them.
The woman on the bed was wearing a lace body suit with intricate cutouts that at first glance made her look as though she was covered in tattoos. The scrolling swirls of lace accented the dark points of her aroused nipples and directed everyone's attention to the thin strip of hair between her legs that glistened with moisture. Sharp gasps and moans punctuated the air as the woman kneeling writhed in ecstasy. Her breasts bounced free atop the open cup design of her bra and she stroked a hand across her nipples, her other hand steadying her on the bed. Pressing her pussy closer to the dedicated tongue beneath her, the woman kneeling lowered herself to allow deeper access to her partner. Once again the sounds in the room pervaded Rosalie's focus as people paired off or just reached for whomever was closest. She was shocked and emboldened by the acts of abandon that surrounded her and almost immediately chastised herself for being shocked. That's exactly why she was here. To be shocked. To be shocking. To do something no one would ever expect of her.
And yet she left the room. Pressing her bare back to the wall in the next room, she took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. Just because she wanted to do something that society deemed unacceptable didn't mean it was without risk or consequence. And for someone who adhered to what society expected of her since birth, it was a hard notion to shake. Opening her eyes, Rosalie glanced around the quiet room. It was dark, darker than the other rooms, which made it almost pitch black. She waited against the wall, willing her nerve to come back. Willing it to give her the courage to reenter one of those other rooms and touch someone. Maybe cup her hand over a straining erection or even slip into her own panties and add to the voyeuristic art all around her.
As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, Rosalie noticed an elegant velvet chair a few feet away. Her dangerously high heels didn't make a sound as she stepped onto a large area rug. Sinking into the chair, she traced her fingers along the subtle scrolling pattern wrapped around its arms and felt her heartrate slow. There was always something about patterns and focusing on the details that had allowed Rosalie to calm her nerves and reevaluate her surroundings. At least it'd always worked in med school.
After a few more deep breaths, Rosalie became aware of low sounds coming from the corner of the room. It wasn't as empty as it had first appeared. There were whispers, soft words being exchanged. The room had no windows but a handful of candlelit sconces high on the wall that did little more than cast a hazy glow around the room. Accents of gold and silver sparked as the flames danced seductively. It was how Rosalie had noticed the dark red chair with its gold accents. Her fingers continued to follow the grooves along the arms of the chair, picking up speed as she caught a glint of light reflecting off of something in the corner. An earring. Now that she had a frame of reference, Rosalie could make out the couples' movement. They were on a piece of furniture that was larger than the chair she sat in because the woman with the diamond earring was straddling a man. There was no room for such activity in Rosalie's chair but this couple didn't seem to have any restrictions. The low timbre of the barely audible voice had tipped her off that there was a man in the room but only now could she make out his large hands stroking the naked back of the woman. Their talking gave way to a swallow, a lick and a sigh. Kissing. Between those sounds came a few louder groans and gasps until the unmistakable slip of skin against skin. A whisper of slick friction and then another cry and a whimper.
Rosalie dropped her head back and let her own deep breathes turn into something more. Exhaling loud enough to be heard, Rosalie noticed only the slightest shift from the corner but they didn't stop. If anything, they seemed to shift because a thin rim of light outlined their bodies now, giving credence to everything Rosalie had been hearing. The woman rose up on the man's lap before pressing back down, taking him in. Rosalie dropped a hand from the chair into her lap and let it rest for a moment against the soft leather stretching over her thighs. Moving slowly, she slipped her hand along the fabric until reaching the seam along her inner thigh that gave way to the black lace panties at the apex of her thighs. The heat that had been building there all night was becoming unbearable but she hadn't come all this way to just masturbate in a house full of people. That wasn't much different than what she'd been doing at home, especially if she was hidden in a dark corner.
If she overthought it, she'd never make a move. And in the last few minutes her mind had already started reviewing the options which left her right back where she had started: overthinking things. Shifting her hand slightly, Rosalie was startled when a low voice spoke from just behind the chair.
"Not when I was just about to get a real show."
She could practically hear the sexy smirk in his voice and pressed her fingers to the fabric covering her clit in response. A sharp gasp fell off her lips at the touch.
"Now that's better, Goldilocks. Show me what you like."
The owner of the voice didn't move from behind the chair and without thinking Rosalie dragged her hand up the seam until she could slip her fingers beneath the fabric. Parting her wet folds with her thumb and middle finger, she fluttered a light touch against her clit and spread her legs a little wider.
From across the room, the couple had moved to lay down. The man hovered over the woman and the heady scent of their sex and the masculine fragrance of cedar and musk coming from behind her had Rosalie's heart racing. Which was just as well for her head because her mind couldn't keep up with the stimuli bombarding her.
"Let me see you," came his next command.
Without missing a beat, Rosalie hooked her leg over the arm of the chair and twisted her fingers in her panties until the fabric was pulled to side. Her slick folds on display, she heard an audible groan and a slight shift from the mystery man behind her.
"And your taste?" His question was a low growl.
Rosalie brought her fingers to her mouth and hummed around the taste of her arousal.
"Ready…" She hardly recognized her own voice. It sounded wanton and sexy and not at all like herself.
"Then come for me. You will let me watch you stroke that delectable little bud until you're quivering in desire, won't you?"
And she already was. Not waiting for further instructions or directions. Just desperate to get herself off and somehow please him at the same time. A perfect stranger she hadn't even laid eyes on. Rosalie gripped at the arm of the chair with her other hand, trying to grasp hold of something that didn't exist. Something that would tether her to a reality she no longer wanted to be in. And yet she couldn't make herself stop. There was only so much she could do to slow her mind from racing and her thoughts from getting the best of her and then suddenly, her hand found it. The warmth of his hand closed around hers, his long fingers not without slight callouses but still gentle and soft. His fingers intertwined with hers and she clutched at him while drawing slow circles around her clit. Dipping her finger within her folds, she arched her back and repositioned herself on the chair. Her hold on his hand pulled him forward, alongside the chair.
His tall, muscular frame blocked what little light shone down and she could only make out the dark fabric of his suit. A gray belt buckle caught the light as he shifted to face her. There was no way she could even angle her face towards his from the position she was in, let alone make out the features behind that sexy voice. But it hardly mattered when her hands were busy and his scent permeated her thoughts. And it didn't matter how dark his pants or the room were, the prominent bulge below that belt buckle was unmistakable.
Rosalie pulled her finger back to her clit and slowed her ministrations as she flexed her fingers against his. There was something about the way he told her what he wanted but didn't dare make a move to touch her that had a slow burn setting across Rosalie's skin. She wasn't entirely sure that she wanted him to touch her but she knew for damn sure that she wanted to touch him.
"Let go for me, Goldilocks. Let go," he commanded.
"You first," she challenged as she wiggled her fingers again.
His low chuckle broke at the same time that his grip on her did. Rosalie reached for his belt buckle before his hand once again covered hers.
"Goldie…" he warned. "I don't need any distractions."
Rosalie wrenched her hand from his again and this time didn't waste a second working that belt free.
"I think you'll appreciate the show a whole lot more once you see how well I multitask," Rosalie said in that not-quite-her-own-voice again.
She already had his zipper down and her other hand picked up its pace in anticipation of what was to come. The heavy rod of his cock fell from the open flaps of his pants right into the palm of her hand. Rosalie felt a jolt of desire run through her body and she couldn't resist sliding a finger deep inside to quell a bit of the pressure.
The sounds from across the room had grown louder, carrying across the almost empty room to Rosalie's senses that were being assaulted but all that she was hearing, feeling and now seeing. Wrapping her hand around the tip of his cock, she squeezed a drop of precum from his tip and moistened his soft skin with it. His hips jerked toward her and she slid her hand down his generous length.
"Are you imagining that your finger is my cock?" he bit the words out.
"Mmm," Rosalie hummed in response.
She shifted on the chair again and suddenly wished she'd worn even less. Her legs were spread as wide as possible, the arm of the chair assisting in the task. But it was the binding lace across her breasts that was creating some real friction. Her nipples tingled and ached to be touched, licked, sucked on. In fact, every inch of her body throbbed with desire. From across the room the light caught another glint of sparkle, this time the silver of a nipple piercing. The woman was back on top and her chest thrust forward. The spark of light would flicker in and out of sight as the man puckered his lips around her aroused nipple.
Rosalie followed his lead and let her own tongue lash out and tease the tip of her partner's cock. His taste made her mouth water. She wanted to turn in the chair so she could properly suck him off. A task she'd secretly always enjoyed in the past, even if she was loath to admit it. The leverage would allow her hand better access to her pussy as well. But the idea of moving seemed like too much effort. Too much time taken away from tending to her aching need. If she took her hand off her clit now she'd likely explode from frustration.
Slipping her lips around the head of his cock, Rosalie sucked at his slit and was rewarded with a low moan.
"Don't stop your hand," he uttered the command in a strained voice.
Rosalie lifted her heel onto the arm of the chair and stroked two fingers deep within. Drawing her arousal out, she splayed her folds wide and flicked at her clit.
"Fuck, just like that."
She wasn't sure if he was talking about her hand or her mouth but she wasn't about to stop either. Opening wide, she soothed her tongue along the underside of his shaft and moved her hand to cup his balls. With a tug and a squeeze, she managed to illicit another moan. Rosalie set the pace but only because he wasn't touching her. Wasn't threading his fingers into her hair and guiding her head. And for the first time since she'd given her first blow job at the ripe old age of twenty-three, she actually craved his touch. This stranger who had only briefly held her hand had somehow managed to claim more of her desire than any man ever before.
If Rosalie had been allowing her brain to run in overdrive she may have reasoned her craving away with the sexy setting and her main objective of breaking free for the night, but she wasn't thinking about anything other than her impending orgasm.
The noises of the nearby couple climaxing drove Rosalie's fingers deeper within and she licked urgently at the cock in her hand, rolling her tongue around the tip of him. Her nipples strained against the binding straps of her top and wild visions flashed through her mind as a delicious tingle began to spread through her body. She pictured the rest of this man she was pleasuring, imagined pleasing him in many ways, pleasing herself in many ways. How she might look kneeling before him or him behind her. He still didn't touch her but the sound of his panting came fast from above. Popping her mouth around him and sucking as she feverishly stroked her clit brought the shaking in her legs higher and higher. With a sudden rush of heat, Rosalie was overcome. The taste of salty sweetness coated her tongue and she pulled back, tugging the stranger's orgasm from his cock with her hand. Moisture spilt out over her tongue and lips and in that moment, Rosalie knew that she'd be tasting him for days.
That one errant thought was Rosalie's downfall. Almost immediately her brain kicked back in and started flipping through a mental calendar of all her responsibilities in the upcoming week. Major responsibilities that weren't granted to someone who skipped a prestigious dinner for a sex party where she would blow a random stranger.
A flutter of panic struck Rosalie's stomach and she dropped her foot to the floor. On wobbly heels, she abruptly stood and almost fell over. Strong arms caught her and she came to rest against the very hard, tall body of her horrible lack of judgment.
"Goldi-"
She cut him off with her fingers against his mouth where she left a slick reminder of her orgasm against his lips.
"What the fuck-" she said more to herself than anyone else before pushing out of his arms.
I must be losing my mind, Rosalie scolded herself as she escaped the room and practically ran down the hall toward the front door. It was a mistake to come here. She had been right all along. She didn't belong here.
Rosalie Hale burst from the brownstone and stepped out into the early summer evening with a million thoughts rushing through her mind.
Will I ever see him again?
The further she walked, the more focused her thoughts became. And despite the fact that that thought would linger and haunt her for days, it wasn't an option. She couldn't see him again.
Author's End Note: I hope you enjoyed this little one-shot that may turn into more... wonder what kind of trouble this couple could get into if they met up again. Of course, if you've checked out THE SECRET OF HER SUCCESS you have a little window into just how much of a handful Rosalie (ie Natasha) can be.