Mirror Mirror #RomFantasy

Mirror Mirror
by A. Austin

Cade Maddox heard the soft sounds of jazz music playing throughout the industrial penthouse as he stepped through the front door. It had been a long day at the office and he was glad to be home. He let out a relieved breath and he placed his coat on the rack, keys going into the vibrantly colored Chihuly bowl sitting on the sleek cherry oak table in the foyer, the glass art a gift from Isabeau Renault.

She was here in his home, something evident from the sounds of the sensual music drifting out to him from somewhere in the back. He followed the dulcet tones to the room he used for exercise and noticed most of his equipment had been pushed to one end of the long space. The jazz was louder here and Isabeau hadn’t heard his arrival. She stood in front of a wide, antique full length mirror that leaned against the far wall. His mouth went dry at the sight of her, long legs clad in sheer thigh high stockings, spiked black heels on her dainty feet. His eyes traveled over the well rounded globes of her ass that were separated by the thin black string of her lacy thong panties, then continued up the smooth expanse of her slender back as she arched toward the mirror, hands resting on the frame. Her breasts were covered in a matching lacy black bra that lifted and shaped them to perfection.

Cade adjusted himself and leaned against the door frame, reluctant to make his presence known. He didn’t want to interrupt her concentration as she turned one way and looked at herself, then turned the other way for a different angle, her brows furrowed. She tossed her hair over her shoulders, and started swaying gently in time to the music. She ran a hand down her side, over her hip and back up to cup her breast. His hands clenched and he stuffed them in his pockets. She was the most evocative, exceptionally beautiful woman he’d ever known. Period. And as she stood watching herself in the mirror he forgot about his day, his work, even the ability to breathe. She was everything that mattered.

Her grimace deepened and she exhaled a ragged huff of frustration. She stopped swaying and dropped her arms back to her side, glaring at her reflection, shaking her head. Next, she took the long heavy golden waves of her hair in both hands and piled it on top of her head, the action arching her back and thrusting her breasts forward. Holding her tresses in place with one hand, Beau took a step back, turned sideways away from him. In time to the song playing, she bent her knees and dipped low, thrusting her backside up and out as she straightened. Cade raised a brow and grinned as she continued to practice a few moves that had him wanting to lay her on the floor right then and there.

Again, Isabeau stopped and shook her head. “This is stupid,” he heard her mutter. She released her hair and moved to stand directly in front of the mirror again, her eyes immediately looking over her shoulder. She jumped, a squeak of surprise followed by a French curse word leaving her beautiful mouth.

Cade had had no intention of moving, but found himself a hairsbreadth from her back when he heard the frustration in her voice. “I can assure you that it is not stupid,” he said. He leaned forward and kissed her bare shoulder without touching her anywhere else. “You take my breath away, love.”

Isabeau sighed and leaned back into him, a frown still on her face. “I was wanting to surprise you, to seduce you, but…” Her voice trailed off, a little uncertain. She shook her head again and tried to move away from him. “I’m no good at...”

Cade’s hands latched onto her arms just above her elbows and held her in place facing the mirror. “Look, Beau.” His voice was low, aroused. “What do you see?”

“I see you. Looking at me like I…” her voice was wispy, tears stuck in her throat, “like I am beautiful. Like I matter.” She blinked back moisture but held his stare.

“Look again, love. Look at you, and see what I see.” He urged her with a nod to look back at herself. When she complied, he moved his hard frame flush against her back and tugged until she was fully pressed against him. He snaked an arm around her waist and held her tight, his hand splayed wide on her stomach. He dropped his head next to hers, watching her as she gazed in the mirror. He took a deep breath; her natural clean scent mixed with a touch of her favorite perfume went straight to his cock.

Keeping her in place with the arm around her waist he folded his other hand around hers, molding it so he could point at her body. “Let’s start here,” he said hoarsely and motioned to her breasts. He trailed her fingertips over the plump mounds. “These are perfect. They fit the hand just right.” Using her hand he cupped her right breast, her nipple hardening instantly. “I love how responsive they are to my touch,” his voice dropped to dark velvet, hypnotic against her ear, hot against her skin.

“Pinch your nipple, Beau, and watch your reaction.” She hesitated mere seconds before taking the lace covered pebble between her fingers and giving it a slight squeeze. Her breath caught as he watched a soft shade of blush color her face as blood rushed under her skin. She looked askance at him and continued to explore her breast when he nodded, his hand adjusting the touch and pressure as he saw fit.

Moments later, he moved his splayed hand lower, his fingers teasing the edge of her lacy thong. “I also love this area.” His fingers slid between the lace and her silken flesh, teased the trimmed curls before delving between her damp folds. “Happy, sad, angry… You are always ready to welcome me.” He inserted one, two fingers, placing pressure against her hidden nub with the palm of his hand. “Keep watching, love. I want you to see everything.”

Her breathing had turned ragged and her body shuddered as he scissored his fingers deep inside her body. He turned his head and licked her neck, kissed and nibbled her earlobe.

Her eyes started to close and he squeezed her breast and stilled his movement inside her. “See the flush all over your skin, love? See how your entire body glows when something feels so good?” He kissed her neck again. “See how beautiful you are?”

She nodded and he continued to show her what pleased him about her body. He murmured in her ear all the wicked things he loved doing to her, how her responses teased him, mind and body.

When she was on the verge of orgasm, he stopped and softly commanded her attention. “But the two things I find most attractive on you, love, are these.” He removed his fingers from her wet heat and held her to his body once more with his arm around her waist. Recapturing her hand in his he placed both their hands over her heart. “I love how you love me. I love your kindness, your fierceness, the way you give your all to everything you do.”

Letting go of her hand, motioning for her to keep it over her heart, he traced a path up, over her collarbone, kissing the side of her neck, then caressed her cheek, cupping her face in his hand. “I love your mind most. The way you think. Your sharp wit. Your humor.”

He held her tightly to him and let out a ragged breath. “My God, Beau. I love everything about you: mind, heart, body. Even the way you threaten to put me on my ass when I’ve been behaving like one.”

They stared at each other in the mirror, motionless for what seemed like an eternity. He felt every inch of her body against his, the heat of her setting him aflame. He wanted to slide himself into her, sheathing every inch of his cock to the hilt as they both watched through the mirror. But he wasn’t going to make a move just yet. Not until he knew that she understood how he felt about her.

“Do you see what I see, Isabeau?” He held his breath as he watched her mind work. He grinned when she answered.

“I’m starting to, Maddox.” Her voice was breathless, a spark of playfulness and challenge in her eyes. “But I think I might need another lesson. Would you be so kind as to start over and teach me again? Start with number one.”

Cade laughed and took her hand in his…

If You Were Mine by Cindy Jacks #FlashFictionFriday

If You Were Mine

© 2013 Cindy Jacks

* * * * *

As cliche as it sounds, a fresh breeze seemed to follow her as she entered the bar. Until then it had been a perfectly average Tuesday, the same old guys fueling up so they could face the fam with a smile. Not me. I had no one waiting at home. I ordered another drink and watched.

Tears glittered in her brown eyes, she ordered a double of top shelf whiskey, her soft voice quavering. Golden tendrils licked at her cheekbones and brushed the top of her shoulders, her hair not too short, not too long―just like her dress. It inched up her thighs as she took a seat on the bar stool and I noticed she wore stockings. I loved her for that.

Much to my dismay, it seemed women had held some secret meeting and decided stockings were out of style. I loved rolling them down a silken thigh, unwrapping the gift of bare skin beneath. An image of this woman’s stocking lying abandoned on my bedroom floor flashed through my mind. Adjusting myself, I hoped no one noticed my cock stirring.

I wondered why she had tears in her eyes, tears she seemed desperate to blink away. And why was she alone on a Tuesday evening in some neighborhood bar she had clearly never entered before? If she were mine, she would never have to go anywhere alone, especially not on the verge of crying.

If she were mine… The thought alarmed me. No stranger to animal attraction, I recognized the hold she had on me as something different. Her forlorn expression tugged at my heart and piqued my curiosity.

Gathering all my courage, I decided to approach her. What was the worst that could happen? She’d shoot me down and I’d go back to surfing Facebook and drinking alone. No harm, no foul. But if she did talk to me, if she didn’t send me away, tail tucked between my legs, well, that would be worth risking the humiliation, wouldn’t it?

Crossing the room seemed to take forever, but step by step I’d propelled myself to the bar.

“I’ll have another scotch and soda,” I told the bartender. “And whatever the lady is having.”

She looked up at me, eyes still glittering and shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m not looking for company.”

Damn it, Facebook and humiliation it was. I had to save this―and fast.

“What?” I furrowed my brow. “Oh, you think I ordered that drink for you. No, no. I just wanted to try whatever it is you’re having. It looks good.” I grinned, hoping she’d find me charming or at the very least deserving of a kind brush off.

Fortunately, she chuckled. “Ah. My bad. I shouldn’t make assumptions, huh?”

“I’d be willing to overlook your arrogance if you help me finish my drink order.” I took a seat next to her.

She rolled her eyes, but accepted the double whiskey when the bartender offered it.

“I can’t believe that flew, buddy.” The bartender shook his head.

“You and me both,” I agreed.

At this, she laughed. The throaty sound washed over me like a wave rushing over the shore. She had a fantastic laugh and a smile to match.

“Who said it’s flown yet?” she asked, taking a sip.

I fished a handkerchief from my pocket and offered it to her. “Well, maybe you aren’t in the mood for company, but you look like you could use a sympathetic ear.”

She drew in a faltering breath and reached for the handkerchief. Fingers trembling, she pressed her full lips together as if considering what I’d said. “Yes, you’re probably right.”

“I don’t mean to be nosy, but I can’t stand to see a beautiful woman cry.”

“But it’s okay if the ugly ones do?” she asked, dabbing at her eyes.

“Uh…no. I didn’t mean― It’s just that…”

Breathe, you idiot, I chided myself.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.” She returned my hanky. I dabbed at the sweat forming on my forehead. The cloth smelled of citrus and flowers.

Cute? Was cute good or was it the kiss of death? I decided to soldier on and pretend I hadn’t heard the left-handed compliment.

“I like your perfume,” I said.

She told me the name though it didn’t mean anything to me.

“I’m Joseph, by the way. Joe if you prefer.”

“Alison.” Her tongue flicked across her lips as she pronounced the L in her name.

Alison―it suited her. A pretty name for a pretty woman.

“So, may I ask what has you so upset, Alison?”

She shrugged. “Really predictable story. Boyfriend, commitment issues, blah, blah, blah.”

Boyfriend. The word crushed me.

“Boyfriend present tense?”

“Boyfriend, huge fucking question mark.”

Huge fucking question mark I could work with. Whoever had been stupid enough to screw things up with this lovely lady deserved to get pushed out of the picture altogether.

First Glance

Earlier this year, I saw someone for the first time, a photograph. He is incredibly handsome, but it was something in his eyes that drew me in. I wrote this for him, he's since become a cherished friend... He inspires me constantly, and I still remember that First Glance...

I remember the first time I saw him, the effect of his presence, the striking beauty of his being. In my mind, I can catalogue the details, though I wasn’t aware at the time of how intimate my gaze must have been to him.

He stood apart from me, six feet in height, the heeled boots made him appear taller. He wore jeans, soft, worn, faded denim that fit like a comfortable glove, smoothing over lean, muscled thighs like a lover’s exploring caress. A dark leather jacket stretched across broad shoulders, collar raised against the chill breeze, a hint of black cashmere at the slightly open front of the coat.

I don’t know what sort of squeak I must have made, but he turned and looked at me, and my knees shook just a little. Everything hit my senses at once, the incredible impact of eyes so green they’re the finest jade; thick, well styled black hair, not quite perfect; and the slow upward curve of full, sensually sculpted lips. He took my breath away, or maybe I just stopped breathing?

To my absolute terror and delight, he turned and walked toward me, casual, graceful strides that telegraphed confidence, ease with himself, and the kind of power that is born in self-awareness. I looked up, memorized the planes of his face, the feathery tracings of lines that fanned from the corners of his beguiling eyes, the silken texture of his stubbled jaw. I longed to reach up, to touch him.

When he took my hand and lifted it to drop a whispering kiss on the backs of my fingers, I knew the tremor of response that rocketed through me was visible to him. When he spoke, voice accented, tone roughened with just the right amount of gravel, yet honeyed with seductive knowledge, he took possession of my soul and would own it forever…

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