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Book 2: Chapter 4

مؤلف: Kjosh
last update تاريخ النشر: 2026-08-20 18:40:52

“Yay! She’s here!” Abby says as she pulls me off the cabin’s front porch and into the warmth of the room.

A chorus of delighted squeals answers her, and I can’t help but laugh and smile. “Hi, girls.”

“Mama Long!” The others rise as one inebriated group to give me hugs, and I return all of them warmly. They’re all like my daughters in their own individual ways; I’ve known many of them since they were in preschool with Britanya.

There’s Abby, the ringleader who still looks every bit the former
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  • The Devils Temptation; Erotic Short Stories    Book 2: Chapter 6

    Gabriel POV This is, without question, the best night of my life. Something about Kayla is bringing out every bit of me, as though she’s ready to take whatever I want to give her and then some. There’s no pretense, only straightforward interest, and it’s got me primed to do anything she wants—including standing in this ridiculous get-up in front of her. But look at her. I’ve literally only seen her upper half and it’s covered by a sweatshirt, but my god. Dark red hair cascades around her, and she’s all curves and softness and mystery. I don’t know why she was up here all night, but I swear I’m half in love with her. “If I do this, if I dance for you, you have to promise to forget it ever happened as soon as I’m done,” I warn. She holds a hand over her heart. “Promise.” She’s shifted to sitting cross-legged in the bed, and I’m fairly certain she’s wearing nothing but panties. The sweatshirt she’s got on has done exactly nothing to hide the generous curves beneath, and I’d giv

  • The Devils Temptation; Erotic Short Stories    Book 2: Chapter 5

    “I didn’t know anyone would be up here,” the guy finally croaks out. “Clearly,” I laugh. “You one of the dancers here for the bachelorette party?” He hangs his head. “I don’t think you could call what I just did dancing. But yeah, that’s why I’m here.” It sounds like if I could see him, he’d have a sheepish grin on his face. “This your first time?” I ask. He laughs. “Doing…whatever I just did? Yes. And it’s my last,” he says. Seeming to relax a bit, he says, “So, why are you up here? Not into halfnaked guys prancing about?” “Something like that,” I say. “Too bad,” he says. Than his voice deepens. “From what I can see, I might have been a lot more inspired if you’d been down there.” My lips tilt up. “Well done.” He dips his head. “Thank you.” “Speaking of which.” I lean over and turn on the bedside lamp, which is so dim it’s barely a step up from the darkness we’d been in. But when I turn back, my mouth goes dry. Holy mother of all things good and right in the world. This man i

  • The Devils Temptation; Erotic Short Stories    Book 2: Chapter 4

    “Yay! She’s here!” Abby says as she pulls me off the cabin’s front porch and into the warmth of the room. A chorus of delighted squeals answers her, and I can’t help but laugh and smile. “Hi, girls.” “Mama Long!” The others rise as one inebriated group to give me hugs, and I return all of them warmly. They’re all like my daughters in their own individual ways; I’ve known many of them since they were in preschool with Britanya. There’s Abby, the ringleader who still looks every bit the former high school cheerleader, with her brown ringlets and honey-colored eyes. Diana, the first-generation Mexican-American daughter of immigrants who’d rebelled rather spectacularly against their strict upbringing, but seemed to be coming back around now that she was facing the realities of adulthood. Ginger, a woman who many thought was my daughter, with her red hair swept into the tight ballerina bun that was as much a part of her as breathing. And the surprise—and love—of my life, Britanya. Built

  • The Devils Temptation; Erotic Short Stories    Book 2: Chapter 3

    “Looks like a snow storm,” Steve says, his eyes tracking me as I get ready to go somewhere—anywhere—without him. “Don’t care,” I say, pulling a sweatshirt over my tank and checking my reflection in the mirror. My phone pings and I grab it. Britanya:Hey Mom! You sure you don’t want to come to the bachelorette party?Mom: I love you, but no. I don’t need to see all that. Britanya: Haha okay. Lunch tomorrow ahead of mani-pedis, right? Mom:Absolutely. See you tomorrowBritanya:Love you! I put the phone down and shove my feet back into my boots, grateful I’d thought long and hard about exactly what to pack for this trip. I probably thought too long about it, but that was a hard habit to break. Once I got pregnant, I’d overthought everything, especially since Steve wasn’t about to do any thinking.“Where are you going?” he asks now. I shrug. “Maybe the book store, maybe just a walk. I don’t know.” “Want company?” “No.” The word comes out harsher than I intended. “Sorry. No,” I say,

  • The Devils Temptation; Erotic Short Stories    Book2: Chapter 2

    “I swear, Gabriel, the money is ridiculous. Why wouldn’t I keep doing it?” Axl is lounging on my couch, still in his Jamie’s Lodge uniform and shoving an ungodly bite of pizza into his mouth. “I just want to know how you manage to look like you do by eating that crap,” I answer, nodding at the mostly-eaten slice. “All the gyrating I do,” he says, still chewing. I shake my head. “I don’t need a visual of you shaking your dick in some poor girl’s face.” He laughs. “You should try it.” “No way would he do it,” Quinton says from the chair, his attention focused on the hockey game. “More like no way would you do it,” I shoot back, giving him a pointed look. “Hey, the ladies like their dark men thick,” he says, rubbing his hand over his not-that-thick belly. “Trust me, I don’t need to dance at bachelorette parties to get the goods.” “You’re both pathetic,” I say. “I would have thought that our days of university were behind" “Watch your tone, young man,” Axl says. “Unlike you, some

  • The Devils Temptation; Erotic Short Stories    Book 2: Chapter 1

    I need my daughter to explain to me why, precisely, she thought having her wedding in Coal’s Lake, Canada was a good idea. At Christmas. But you know what? It’s okay. It’s. Okay. It’s been my mantra all day. It’s okay. It’s okay that my ex-husband thought it was a good idea to book himself on the same flight into Alberta as me. It’s okay that he utterly failed to reserve his own rental car and looked at me with no sense of irony in the line at customs and said he thought it’d be fine if he just hopped in with me. This, from the man I finally divorced because he never took responsibility for anything, ever, whether it was our relationship, our daughter, his “career,” or, you know, life. It’s okay that he’s talked incessantly on the drive to the hotel about his new business idea. The one that has no actual plans attached to it and consists of “well, weed is legal now in some states” and “I know some guys.” And it’s okay that even at thirty-eight, he’s still so good-looking that the c

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