WET
HEAT
Wet Heat: The Aphrodite Chronicles Story
One
Erotic Paranormal Short Story
Blurb:
Attorney Naida Bouche has a secret… of
paranormal proportions!
The secret tore her, and fellow
attorney, Coop’s, marriage apart. She let her guard down and allowed herself to
love. But that love—and the passion that followed—could have been the death of
them…well, him.
A chance encounter in judge’s chambers
catapult Coop Martin’s and his ex-wife’s libidos into overdrive. Add being
stuck in an elevator to the mix and desires explode. Coop wants his wife back
but she’s thrown up a roadblock that he’s determined to break through.
Can their undeniable chemistry be enough
for Naida to reveal who—and what—she is? And could Coop still love her should
the truth be revealed?
Excerpt
1
The last vestiges of summer
Second Chance, Pennsylvania
Water cascaded off her nude body. Small
rivulets ran over her breasts and down her slightly rounded stomach,
disappearing into the surface of the lake.
She was one with the water.
She could, literally, become one with
it.
Moonlight reflected off the
mirror-smooth surface, adding a soft glow to the night. Crickets serenaded her
with their chirping song. A wolf howled in the distance. Nature cocooned her.
She grinned and dove under. Liquid
embraced her, still heated from the sun’s rays of earlier in the day. Her body
became insubstantial, fragmenting into molecules of H2O. Disorientation left
her bewildered, but the feeling came and went. Weightless warmth enveloped her,
and the ebb and flow of the tide lulled her into blissful relaxation.
The moon slid across the sky. Hours had
passed. Her body became corporeal with a single thought. After regaining her
human form, she cut through the water with powerful strokes and rose to the surface
in a rush of bubbles.
The night air chilled her damp skin,
raising goose pimples along her flesh. She pushed the long fall of golden
blonde tresses from her face and glanced into the deep, lush woods that ringed
the lake. Soon the leaves would change to shades of gold, orange, red, and
brown. In would come the autumnal chill. Her time in the waters would decrease,
and then winter would set in and freeze her out.
When that happened, she’d resort to the
swimming pool located on the basement level of her large log home. Even with
the greenery she had sprinkled about, it never fully replaced the exhilaration
of the lake, the feel of fresh air against her skin, and the scent of the
wilderness.
She repeated the cycle, year after year.
The monotony had long since worn short on her nerves.
At one time, she’d had someone to break
the mundane tones of her life.
But she had ruined that.
He hadn’t understood the need, the
drive, to be one with the water.
She had allowed it to build a wall
between them.
But how could he have understood? Hell,
she’d have trouble believing the truth, if it wasn’t her life.
The root of their problems had been
otherworldly, as her father was human and her mother was a water nymph.
The nymph side of her heritage presented
two problems. First, she needed daily contact with a body of water. Like her
pool in the basement. Second, she also needed a daily dose of sex. Preferably
more than once a day. After all, the term “nymphomaniac” had been born of a
nymph’s sex drive.
No, he had never known the truth of her
desires.
She had pushed him away, afraid of
exposing her real self.
And that fear, that uncertainty, had
left her alone…and needy.
Excerpt
2
Coop thanked Smythe as he spun toward
the bank of elevators. He pressed the “up” button and waited for the car to
descend. The stainless steel doors opened with a bing. Stepping through
the threshold, he hit the button for the third floor. He checked his reflection
in the mirrored panels gracing the walls. The ride seemed to take longer than
normal, which annoyed the hell out of him. His foot tapped impatiently on the
carpeted floor.
The doors opened again, and Coop darted
from the car to the judge’s chambers. His long, ground-eating strides took him
to his destination in under a minute.
Coop didn’t bother to knock. He simply
swung the door open and strode into the room. Sitting behind a large, ornately
carved desk was Judge Hawker. Her gray hair haloed her head in a tidy mass of
curls. Lines deeply etched her haggard face, affirming she was a kick-ass bitch.
She tapped her pen on her ink blotter.
“So nice of you to join us, Mr. Martin.” Her voice cracked like an old Victrola
record player.
Coop’s gaze fell upon the female
occupant sitting in one of two black leather armchairs. Long, golden-blonde
hair cascaded over the back, beckoning for him to run his fingers through the
silken stands.
Anger, both at his reaction to seeing
her and the fact she was there in the first place, rose up like a leviathan
from the deep. The muscles in his jaw tightened, and his lips formed a thin
line.
He walked in front of the woman.
“Naida,” he greeted, through clenched teeth.
Coop stared at her beautiful face.
Naida’s kissable, full lips formed a soft, forced smile that her large,
doe-shaped brown eyes didn’t reflect. A form-fitting, cream-colored sweater
hugged her breasts and torso, doing little to hide her lithe figure. Her hands
rested in her lap. Long, jean-clad legs crossed at the ankle. The brown of her
high-end leather satchel matched her well-worn hiking boots.
“Cooper,” she replied.
He inhaled sharply through his nose,
never breaking eye contact with her, and enunciated each of the words that
followed very clearly, “Do. Not. Call. Me. Cooper.”
* * * *
Naida hadn’t meant to say it so
sarcastically. It had just slipped out. A defense mechanism. A way to cover the
instantaneous hurt that had rocketed like a missile to her heart.
The other option had been picking her
jaw off the ground. She hadn’t expected Coop to walk through the door.
His stiff-shouldered stance emanated
anger. And rightfully so.
He had been wronged.
By Naida herself.
She ripped her gaze away from Coop and
turned toward the bitch who had set her—no, us—up.
Judge Hawker grinned, exposing age-worn
teeth. The pack of cigarettes she smoked a day did little to detract from the
look. “Do you have something to say, Miss Bouche?” Her voice grated
Naida’s nerves and reminded her of gravel scraping over an asphalt road. The
hag had the nerve to broaden her smile.
Naida rose from the armchair with fists
clenched at her sides, nails biting into the flesh of her palms. “Why is he
here?”
“Why are you here?” he retorted, his
steel-gray eyes darting from one female to the other and shooting daggers at
same time. He shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it onto the empty armchair.
One of those daggers pierced Naida’s
heart, which thudded hard against her breastbone. How she hated Coop looking at
her with such disdain. But she had brought it on herself.
Three years ago, she had filed for
divorce from Coop with no explanation why. Just up and went to an attorney. Had
he done anything wrong? No. Had he begged and pleaded for an explanation? Yes.
She had merely shrugged her shoulders
and walked away.
That action had taken her away from the
one man, the one human, she’d ever loved.
Buy Links:
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I'm a writer of sexy romances with a
kick of heat! Though my contracted stories are paranormals, I haven't
discounted writing a contemporary or two.
I live in Pennsylvania just a hair shy of the Maryland border. I live with a family I adore which includes two furry feline children and a furry canine daughter.
In my spare time, I'm more than likely watching television. I watch Bones, Blue Bloods, NCIS:New Orleans, or some sort of car show like Wheeler Dealers.
I'm a huge sports fan, football in particular. During the fall/winter, I'm watching Notre Dame or Penn State on Saturdays and the Saints or Colts on Sunday.
I've been known to have my nose buried in a book. Nora Roberts/JD Robb and Clive Cussler are favorites of mine. I know, I know...Clive Cussler isn't a romance author. The man can weave a tale of adventure like no other!
I live in Pennsylvania just a hair shy of the Maryland border. I live with a family I adore which includes two furry feline children and a furry canine daughter.
In my spare time, I'm more than likely watching television. I watch Bones, Blue Bloods, NCIS:New Orleans, or some sort of car show like Wheeler Dealers.
I'm a huge sports fan, football in particular. During the fall/winter, I'm watching Notre Dame or Penn State on Saturdays and the Saints or Colts on Sunday.
I've been known to have my nose buried in a book. Nora Roberts/JD Robb and Clive Cussler are favorites of mine. I know, I know...Clive Cussler isn't a romance author. The man can weave a tale of adventure like no other!
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