How about a new string of tastey bites to entertain you?

I need a distraction from my current W.I.P. 

“Deep Fried and Laid to the side” is coming along nicely and should be ready to head to first round betas by august first. I’ll be jumping right into the second story “texas Tried and true”   right after that.

But I needed a little …something to get me back in gear. I’m at a point where my stream of conscious Writing has lead to several paragraphs of “blah blah, yada yada, word, sentences, sex sex more sex sex more words… eat this  spit it out  measure dick”….you get the picture…I’m writing but not writing…

And I’m short a muse… the dark one…he is gone and I’m slightly sad, but it wasn't meant to be.  I’m not too sure how I feel about it. I’m kind of in a state of “meh” over it.

So I've brewed a cup of coffee in my orange paisley patterned cup and I've got my feet up, admiring my scarlet pumps, when the smell of green grass and ocean and man wafts over me.   I close my eyes and try not to show my pleasure at his arrival…nor my annoyance. Can’t a girl procrastinate!

“If you wanted to procrastinate then you should have kept the dark trickster around.”

*I lean my head to the side to peek around the monitor of my laptop at MineMuse as he lounges against the doorway, arms crossed over broad chest*

“Actually, you’re correct, but I wonder, if between you Alapha and Knox there wasn't a little persuasion for him to “take a hike”.

*He doesn't confirm or deny this vocally, but the smirk on his face tells me everything I need to know*

“What are you doing with those shoes on?”

*Chris pushes away from the door and saunters…yes, saunters is how I’d describe it, into my office to stand at the edge of my desk. Something flashes in those icy blue eyes. Something warm and ….wicked. Something a little dark and a lot delicious.*

“Getting in the mood.  I need to feel …sexy in order to write.”

*One pale eyebrow lifts over the dark frame of his glasses. The light catches there and if I squint I think I see the slightest hint of ginger in those nearly invisible blonde hairs. For a moment his eyes widen and then he squints back at me and I wonder aloud..*

“ What are you about, Enforcer?”

*Eyes that were lidded open suddenly and a hint of a smile dances. A flash of that dimple and I’m screwed.*

“Not yet you aren't, but you will be”

*His voice is thick with warning. The words are heady. The smell of tobacco and chocolate ….rich rich dark chocolate envelopes me as his strong hands grasp my ankles. For a moment he studies the sparkles on the heel of my pumps before using my legs to steer my chair back from the desk. The lights have dimmed now and all I can focus on is the brief glimpse of his tattoo peeking from under the sleeve of his t-shirt. Gently he lets my his hand travel up my calf then back down to my ankles. The vice like grip is fire hot and oddly—soothing. Chris removes my pumps and with measured movements places them against the wall.*

“I am not sure how wearing those things help you to write. As pretty as they are and as great as they look on you, I can’t imagine that they are comfortable. Or maybe that’s what you’re looking for.  A bit of pain… a little torture.”

*I have no intention of validating his assessment. I bite my tongue and close my eyes to keep from saying anything. He takes my silence has his answer.*

“That’s O.K., Little Switch. I know what it is you want… need.  We can play, if you want. You do want to play, don’t you?”

*I can’t tell if it’s because he is asking me or if it’s the feel of him standing behind me, strong hands now kneading at those ever present knots in my shoulders, that does me in, but I moan and let my head dip forward.  Briefly his lips touch my neck. Warm and moist, the feeling burns through me and sets fire to my spine. Electrifying the chain of my necklace so that it burns hot against my skin.*

“If I say something smart, are you going to stop?”

*I nearly whisper. Afraid that he will stop regardless. The man’s hands are magic. I’d pay and have paid handsomely to have my tense muscles “tortured” this way. To have the tension released and to feel that sexy, euphoric rush of being boneless and sedated.*

“ Do you want me to stop, Little Switch?”

*His voice is both sand paper and honey on my nerves. But those hands….oh those hands are doing wonders. Petting in slow languid strokes and then pressing deeply just there….mmmm right there where …ahhhh yup right there.*

*His chuckle behind me is everything.  And I do mean everything.  I want to hide my face, so that the flame of my blush doesn't show. Do I want him to stop?  Is he insane?*

“No, don’t stop. Just...don't stop.”

“Then spin me a tale, Little Switch. And make it...”

*His voice drops of and the graze of his tongue against my neck as he licks there causes me to sit up quickly, my eyes wide. My breath is caught in my throat and my heart beat is in limbo as if someone just hit pause. The nip of his teeth at my ear lobe sends me crashing into fast forward. My heart slams against my chest and I melt….honest to goodness melt into a puddle of  ME right here in my chair. Nothing left but a startled, if satisfied grin. I don’t know where the strength to talk comes from and truthfully I have to try several times to find my voice. When I speak, it sounds like wind being forced from my lungs. All air and lust.*

“Make it what?” 

*I open my eyes and watch as he struts all fair skin and naked…wait naked…when did wow, would you look at that ass…those thighs.  Clearly, I've spoken allowed because he pauses in the door way and flexing the muscles in his back. Head held high, he does not look over his shoulder and I almost have to strain to hear him.*

"Something hot"

*He closes the door without ever looking back. I'm convinced that if I stare at it,  I'll develop x-ray vision and  see him padding softly down the hall, the sinewy muscles stretching and contracting.  My breath leaves me on a long, lusty sigh. I'm not sure how much hotter it can get. But the smile on my face tells me I'm about to find out.* 

ANNNNND that’s where I AM.  Trying to remember to make it hot.  I've got my pen and note pad ready to go and Over the next few blog posts you’ll find a short lil diddy Based on the newest muse, Chris.  Much like “landing Knox” this story will be…whatever flows …a break away from my pressing deadlines.

I haven’t thought of a title for it yet… but there are lots of clues above about what will be involved.  I’m not sure who “she” is at the moment, but she is one lucky Woman to have a “chris” at her disposal.

Tea for Three or... Drea got New Muses.

Sitting at my desk while I wait for the piercing scream of the kettle to remind me that I having tea instead of coffee, I am tapping my toes in time to the soothing, yet panic inducing sound of the clock on my wall.  It was broken when I got it so while it ticks and the hands move round its hound’s-tooth face, it doesn’t tell the time. In sharpie marker boldly scribbled “TIME TO WRITE.”

My office is not far from the kitchen and in this, the last few moments of the witching hours, my ears are trained to the bubbling, boiling sound of the water… angrily dancing in the bright green kettle. 

Because of the time difference between here and there, the new muses are well into their day.  Its nearly lunch time for them and I’m sure they are more than ready for me to just get on with it. A brief check in and I realize that I’m lucky that Alpha and Muse haven’t yet cornered these two and set them to the task of “babysitting me”.  I am still free to procrastinate, as I am want to do.  I distract them by starting a conversation then leaving them to their own devices.

Proud of my trickery, I head to the kitchen just in time to lift the kettle before it wakes the dogs. The smell of mint and spices as the water washes over the loose leaf tea in my cup brings a smile to my face.  Slowly, because really what the rush, I pad back to my office. Head down, concentrating on the steam rising from my travel mug I run smack dab into a wall  of… muse.

One dark and one light, both verra, verra much male and verra much Irish, they don’t seem to be impressed by my tactics.

“SHIT!” I exclaim as the hot liquid splashes over the rim of my cup and on to my hand before landing on my toes.

“what the f…”

The gingery blonde arches a brow as if daring me to let the swear word slide past my lips.

The dark one laughs and reaches out a hand to steady me.

“good morning, lass” he chuckles, taking the cup from my hands and sauntering off “ I’ll just top this off and get a rag to clean that up.  Have a seat” he says “ we’ve something to discuss.”

Petulantly I pout.  I can see where this is going. The dark one… whom I thought I’d chosen for his lackadaisical, carefree ways, is abandoning me.  I’m not quite ready to face the shorter blonde one. I mean I haven’t had my tea, or a “biscuit” and really. Does he have to look that imposing?

Chris, as he is called, doesn’t say a word, merely grabs my hand to check for damage and leads me to my seat.

The smell of the countryside and something, male, makes me swallow deeply and hold my breath.  He makes a tsking sound and shouts for Lee, the dark one but he to bring some ice.

I’d protest, but something tells me its best if I keep my trap shut.

“Got an interesting email this morning, aingeal”  Chris speaks calmly, lulling me, pulling me back in my chair as he massages the tense muscles in my neck.

“Oh, from whom?”  I ask breathily, trying to keep myself from voicing just how great those hands feel working away the tension that’s been sitting between my shoulders for weeks.

“From who else, One and Two.  Gave us the whole run down, they did.” Lee has returned with my tea and a cool rag to clean my skin. His voice is slightly lighter than Chris’ but the words spilling over his full lips aren’t what I wanted to hear.

“Dammit,” I mutter. Immediately, two low growls cause the hair on my neck to stand at attention.

“Ok boys, let’s get something straight. I’m the boss and I like to cuss, curse, and ohhh ohhh ummm…” I lose my train of thought as Chris finds a particularly stubborn knot, right at the moment that Lee gently lifts my foot and cleans away the sticky sweet tea that has dried to a syrupy mess.

“You were saying” Lee ask, with a smirk to beat Puck’s own.

“I  ... I ... was saying… umm” Fuck, what was I saying.

Chris answers for me.  “She was saying how today she is going to be a good girl and write. So that we don’t have to report to one and two that she has been anything less than an angel of the purest goodness and light.”  His breath moistens my earlobe and the scent of him surrounds me.

“That’s what I thought she said me self.”  Lee glances up at me briefly, and then his dark green eyes meet ice blue ones over my shoulder.

“Well shit.” I mutter.  I think I’ve been had. And I don’t mind at all.

Please welcome the two newest resident muses… Chris Richards and Lee Kingston. Both hail from Ireland ( home of my heart) and both… are sure to make you smile.

They’ll be hanging out in The Chatting With Drea Riley fb group as well as putting in appearances on The Drea and Milana Show.  I couldn’t be more pleased.  *winks saucily*