In case you didn’t know (and I’d understand why—my release schedule has been very busy the past couple months), I released a new collection of my own short stories a little while ago. It’s the second volume of Strokes, and it’s filled with naughtiness. Enjoy the excerpt! It’s from “Tailgating at the Cedar Inn” which was one of two stories recently published in Penthouse Magazine. Yes, I’ve been in Penthouse—my mama’s so proud! 🙂
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From National Bestselling Author, Delilah Devlin, comes another naughty collection of seven bedtime stories—a week’s worth of nighttime reading pleasure.
Ride along with two soldiers, just returned from war, who find sweet release in “The Long Ride Home.” In “Tailgating at the Cedar Inn,” a woman has one last fling with two sexy construction workers. A cowboy kidnaps his “Runaway Bride” to get some sweet satisfaction. A woman travelling alone in Europe enjoys a hot steamy sauna in the “Textile Free” zone. In “Love in Bloom,” a florist tempts her high school crush. A naughty nooner with an office colleague ends in a “Quick Draw.” A dispatcher kicks inhibitions to the door when she seduces a younger truck driver in “Drive Me Crazy.”
Four of the stories have appeared in separate Cleis Press anthologies. Two of the stories were featured in Penthouse magazine! All the stories are featured in one sinfully hot collection…
I stepped out of the shower onto chipped and cracked aqua blue tiles with grout so dingy I couldn’t tell what color it had been. Not that the bathroom was dirty, thank god. Just old. Like the rest of the 60’s-built motel I’d found on the little back country road.
Standing before the sink, I toweled my hair then shook my head like a dog, not caring where the droplets landed. The mess wasn’t one I’d have to clean. For one last night, I could be irresponsible, messy, even if only in a small way.
I draped the towel over the edge of the old white tub and sauntered naked into the small room with the double bed. The air smelled of tobacco and industrial cleansers. The bedding looked clean if a little nappy from wear, but I peeled back the quilt-top and tossed it on the floor anyway. Pristine white sheets beckoned.
Just as I lay back, sighing with relief, sounds from outside the room jarred me from my happy haze. Tires squealed, masculine laughter bellowed through the thin walls, and car doors slammed.
A sigh escaped and I stared at the bared rafters above. The laughter faded. I reached across to flip off the switch to the nightstand lamp with its yellowed shade. Lying in the darkness, I willed my body to relax, one limb at a time. That day, I’d driven three hundred miles. I’d have gone another fifty for a decent hotel, but the shorter route my Garmin dictated led me through narrow two-lane roads deep in the Ozark Mountains. I doubted I’d have found anything nicer.
Maybe I should have stuck to the Interstate, but I’d wanted to shave some miles. Little did I know the route would keep my foot busy pushing on the gas pedal then the brake the whole way. Exhausted with nerves shattered, I’d seen the crooked Vacancy sign outside the Cedar Inn and made my decision on the spot, swerving into the empty gravel parking lot. Not until I’d opened the door to my tiny, musty room did I have second thoughts about my decision. But how bad could the room really be? I’d turned on the swamp cooler set into a window frame and felt my hair frizz instantly.
Not that I’d really cared. No one was around to impress. Other than the clerk at the front desk, a skinny, twenty-something redneck with puppy dog eyes, the place was deserted. At the thought, I’d shivered a little bit, double-bolted my room door and checked the lock on the window. Visions of the shower scene from Psycho didn’t put me off taking a long, lukewarm soak to wash away the road grime and sweat. Read the rest of this entry »
