Naughty 50 Shades Dinner Date

Our theme this month has been romantic dinners. Thought I'd do an original shorty short for you. Happy month of love.

Language Alert: Adult Language

NAUGHTY 50 SHADES DINNER DATE:

It sucked that she broke up with him on Valentine’s Day. The restaurant was all set. The special dessert was ordered. He had picked out the special champagne he wanted to serve, and then Karin called and dropped the bomb she was running off with another Navy guy—not a SEAL—for all the fuckin’ douchebag of reasons, but a guy who worked in personnel. How’s that for a life of fuckin’ hot times?

Well, he would be around more, she said. And he was a good kisser. Navy SEAL Keith Rusk had always thought kissing was a prelude to all the tasting and licking he could get. It was foreplay. Important, but foreplay nonetheless.

No, little miss hot pants would have to satisfy herself looking at her hero behind a desk of manila folders, instead of naked in the water, covered in tats, hard as a cannon and willing to swim five miles just to fuck her. If she couldn’t handle that kind of intensity, literally, FUCK. HER.

The dinner had been prepaid on his San Diego Venture card, so he had to use it or lose it. He could certainly drink for two. Maybe he’d just take the second dinner home. It would certainly be better than the microwave dinners he was used to.

So, dressed in a crisp white shirt and blue jeans, he left his red tie with the little hearts stuffed in his pocket, and slipped on his new dark blue jacket. It was still Valentine’s Day, and he was determined to find one. But first he had to eat.

The little Bistro had a fireplace in one corner, and he had reserved that particular table. The waiter showed him to it quickly frowned when he informed him that his date was detained. He asked for the champagne and told him to order barbeque Drake’s Bay oysters on the half shell with hot sauce and lots of lemon.

Keith leaned back and took a sip, surveying the crowd and that’s when he saw her. She wore a red dress that was cut low enough he could see how firm but well built she was. Her tiny pointed elbows rested on the starched white tablecloth as she sipped a glass of bubbly between dainty fingers with red nail polish that matched her dress. And she was also scanning the room. The chair across from her was vacant.

The instant they made eye contact he was zapped with an electric current that nearly took his breath away. She fawned shy, which he loved, and then slowly looked back up to him with her lips asking the question he could very easily answer. He raised his glass and toasted to her. She sipped right along with him, and then smiled. The wetness of her bubbly made her pouty lips shine in the candlelight.

His waiter arrived with the oysters and blocked the view. Irritated, he grabbed the man’s lapel and forced him to bend down. “Ask the lady in red over there if she’d like to join me.”

The waiter glanced in her direction and nodded. Thirty seconds later, her impossibly curvy and soft form glided over to his direction, her fingers barely holding on to the slender glass flute. Tiny red sling-back heels, dress coming just below the knee but with a slit up one side perfect for an errant hand. The waiter seated her and she leaned in, presented her glass, and let his touch hers in a soft clink.

It was probably his imagination, but the champagne tasted sweeter and contained more bubbles.

“Oysters?” he asked. He could have asked for her name, but he wanted to eat his oysters.

“Love to.” She didn’t wait for him to present them, but reached over the tea light candle and helped herself to one, her red heart dangling bracelet nearly toppling his glass. Looking at him in the eyes, she smiled, opened those gorgeous lips ad let the oyster slide onto her tongue. She licked her lips while she devoured the little barbequed creature in all its glory.

Keith had the biggest hard-on of his life. He was thinking clothing malfunctions, feeding her oysters in bed, wanting to lap lemon juice between her breasts and perhaps some salsa other places.

His cell phone went off and when he pulled it out of his pocket, his red tie fell on the tabletop. One of his SEAL Team 3 guys had chosen the wrong time to connect, so he turned it off without answering. But she’d picked up the tie and was winding it around her wrists.

“Tie me up.”

It was a simple statement, but was so unexpected, he hesitated. He took a look around and found the couple next to them was whispering and he was fairly sure he was the object of their discussion.

What the hell.

The little hearts were massaged and stuffed together in a silk pucker as he tied a bow after her wrists were bound in a double figure eight. She left her elbows on the table as she said, “Now you’ll have to feed me.”

Well all right.

“Maybe you should come and sit next to me?” he said.

She shook her head slowly. “No.”

She didn’t give him a choice. Adjusting his pants, he pulled her binding closer towards him, which forced her to lean over the table, nearly causing her breasts to become dislodged from their red satin stays. She scooted closer under the table and their knees touched, then interlocked. She held his right knee between hers and rubbed the inside of her lower leg against his calf, and then down, inching forward and squeezing him again.

He didn’t care who was looking as he took one of her fingers in his mouth and sucked on the red nail polish.

The waiter came to clear their table for dinner, but there were two oysters left. “One for me and one for you,” Keith said to her, dismissing the waiter.

“Perfect. First, I watch you, and then you watch me, okay?” she said.

“Of course.” He ate another delicious oyster, and then picked up the oyster shell, presenting it with lots of salsa to her lips. She took it, slurping as she did so. A trickle of oyster juice trailed down her chin on the left. He used his thumb to remove the liquid, and presented it to her while she sucked.

“I still think you should move over next to me for the main course,” he whispered.

“Let’s see how well you do,” she answered.

He helped her drink the champagne, then ordered another bottle. They ate their salad carefully, watching each other. She held the candied pear and cheese parts between her teeth before her pink tongue could carry them away.

When the prime rib arrived, he piled horseradish on top and presented her the forkful. Licking her lips, she covered the fork, and he watched as her eyes watered, and she gasped at the heat. He wanted to take her, bend her over the table and fuck her until Tuesday, and she knew it.

For dessert, the chocolate mouse made a dark brown paste on her lips as he smoothed it over her with the back of the spoon.

“Let’s get some of this to go,” she whispered.

The couple next to them was totally distracted with their actions. He found having someone watch, even if the whole restaurant watched, would heighten the pleasure.

“I want to lick that off you,” he said as she started to wipe her lips with her tongue.

She checked her surroundings. With half the chocolate still on her face, she got up, walked around the table after giving a warm smile to their audience next table over, spread her legs and straddled him, placing her bound hands over his head, resting her elbows on his shoulder.

“Be my guest,” she said.

He kissed her, licked and sucked her lower lip, biting it, then brought his hands to her ass and pushed her hard onto his growing lap. She undulated back and forth so he could feel her pubic bone rub the entire length of him.

Her brown eyes still watered, her chestnut hair falling all over her shoulders. “Who are you?” he asked.

“I’m your valentine.”

“Can I take you home?”

“Well that depends.”

“On what?”

“Do you have more of these?” She held up her hands and wrists bound with the red heart tie.

Happy Month of Love! May the passion and power of love take you away this month, and every month. 

Life is one fool thing after another.

Love is two fool things after each other.

Author Page ** Sharon's Blog ** Sharon's Website ** Facebook**Twitter

Sharon’s Newsletter

Guest Blog: Marliss Melton: Evolutionary Stages of a Romance Writer

So, you want to write for a living? Wonderful! Just make sure you know what you’re getting into at the outset. The following stages are merely mile markers on your upcoming adventure. They will vary, of course, depending on intelligence, skill, and luck. But, for the most part, being a romance author is a process, sometimes a long one. Here are the stages in that process that stand out most clearly in my mind:

Fall in love with storytelling. For me, this happened at an early age. At age 13, I wrote my first full-length book, long-hand, in a spiral notebook. By the time I was sixteen, I’d written several more, and they’re all moldering in my attic.

Let life get in the way. Very few writers become successful overnight. And very few young people have enough life-experience to pen meaningful, full-length novels. So you get a job that affords you time to practice your craft. I became a teacher. Every summer, I wrote and wrote.

Decide to write for a living. When it becomes apparent that you’d rather write than eat or breathe, you make the decision to go for it. You network. You join writing associations. You submit your work to contests and to agents. And you get rejected. You think you’re wonderfully talented, but the truth is, you still need to practice. For some people, this stage lasts a year, for others it can last for several decades. For me, it lasted ten, painful years.

Believe in yourself, even when friends, colleagues, and even your spouse become annoyed by how much time you devote to writing, especially without getting paid for it. They may be trying to lessen your disappointment if you never succeed. They try their best to check your expectations and to drag you back into the mundane world. My advice? Don’t listen to them. You will have supporters—maybe your mother, fellow writers, your loyal dog. Listen to them instead.

Savor Validation Day. At long last, you make a sale. Your vision for yourself is affirmed. Either you get “the call” from an agent who wants to represent you or a from a prospective publisher, or you self-publish your own book. Then you wait with high expectations for the money to come rolling in… You wait. And you wait.

Be in it for the long haul. Realizing you won’t make any money by resting on your laurels, you throw yourself into marketing, but most importantly, you write more books. Never stop writing. Recognition comes slowly. The money comes even more slowly. Be patient. It took me ten years and nine published novels to earn more than $17,000 a year. Granted, that was with a traditional publisher paying me a mere 8% royalties, and that was before digital books became hot.

Hold your head up. Suddenly all your efforts come to fruition and you’re rewarded for your perseverance. Perhaps you win the RITA, or your sales go way up, but at long last, you’re getting the credit you are due. You always knew you were a writer. Now, everyone else does, too.

Don’t run on empty. By now, you’ve written over a dozen novels and you’re running out of plot ideas, along with new and exciting characters. You’re desperate to fill up your creative well. Perhaps you need to read more, travel the world, throw yourself into misadventures, and meet new people. If you don’t have time for that, pick the brains of your most loyal readers. My fans are the greatest people in the world. They have extraordinary ideas, and they are more than happy to share them. Find out how to replenish your creativity and make time to do it.

What stage are you in? Do you have what it takes to be a writer for the long haul? I hope you do. Writing for a living has got to be one of the most satisfying careers in the world. If it’s in your heart to be a writer, you can make a living at it just as I have!

BIO:
Marliss Melton is the author of a dozen counterterrorist/romantic suspense stories, including a 7-book Navy SEALs series, a counterterrorist Taskforce Trilogy, two novellas, and two short stories. She relies on her experience as a military spouse and on her many contacts in the Spec Ops and Intelligence communities to pen realistic and heartfelt stories about America's elite warriors and fearless agency heroes. Daughter of a U.S. foreign officer, Melton grew up in various countries overseas. She has taught English, Spanish, ESL, and Linguistics at the College of William and Mary, her alma mater. She lives in historic Virginia with her husband and their youngest daughter, one of six children. Be sure to “friend” Marliss on Facebook! Visit http://www.marlissmelton.com for more information.

SPECIAL BOXED SET: SEALED WITH A KISS
Valentine's Day is upon us. You're looking for a special gift this year from your sweetheart, and while that box of assorted chocolates looks appealing now, you know you'll regret consuming it later. Here's an idea: Ask for a boxed set of eight Navy SEAL novellas, instead. SEALED WITH A KISS is an anthology available the week of Valentine's Day for just .99 cents. And it features eight novella-length stories written by myself and seven talented authors. Visit our Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/KissingSEALs for more information. Available in E-format only. Order your copy today at your favorite online retailer today!

BLURB: Code of Silence (my novella in the boxed set):
Navy SEAL Vinny DeInnocentis has no idea his news reporter wife is keeping secrets. With her hard-won reputation for rooting out corruption, Ophelia can't let a little thing like her unexpected pregnancy get in the way of exposing Pennsylvania's lieutenant governor for the liar he is. But will her quest to publicize the truth - and her shocking discovery that her target is far more dangerous than she imagined - cost her more than she ever thought she'd lose?