05-19-2007 06:01 AM
Now please, please work because I don't want to post this a third time!
A chainsaw roared outside. Jason lunged out of bed. He hopped into jeans and a sweater as he crossed the bedroom headed for the living room window. He hadn’t slept particularly well. Visions of Cassandra kept invading his dreams until he was too hot for the two comforters even without the fire. She stood at the foot of the tree she’d been looking at yesterday in her parka, hacking at the base. He grabbed his coat, pulling it on as he rushed outside.
Snow dropped on her as she worked, but she didn’t pay any attention. She’d tied back her hair and put on a pair of plastic work goggles. They made her seem very cute and small, like a child playing with her father’s tools. After a few minutes the tree cracked with a sound like a gunshot and fell along the road, blocking the road.
Without shutting off the saw, she worked her way up the trunk cutting it into foot long pieces. By the time she stopped and turned off the saw, she had just the top section, which was a mass of small branches. When the thunderous sound of the saw faded, Jason clapped.
She didn’t react.
Jason stopped, wondering if she was ignoring him, but then he saw her take off her goggles and pull out earplugs. Smart woman. He clapped again.
Cass spun around, alarmed. Her face glowed pink. “Did I bother you?” she asked.
“No. I just have a thing for chicks with chainsaws.” Jason grinned. He didn’t yet, but if they looked like Cass, he thought he could develop one pretty fast.
She blushed a deeper red. Coils of bright hair stuck to her forehead. Jason wanted to brush it back and keep going until his fingers tangled in those skeins of fire. “I’m done with the loud part,” she offered. She propped the chainsaw against her shoulder. “I’ll just clear the road.”
“Do you want some help?” He stepped off the porch.
“No.” She stepped backward. “You’ll mess up your hands. I can get it.” She set the chainsaw on one of the logs and started hacking off smaller branches with a small ax. She tossed the small branches onto the sled behind her without looking.
Jason looked around. He could sense her slipping away. He couldn’t stand another night watching her dark window wondering. He couldn’t even stand the rest of the morning staring at her windows wondering. But all he had to work with was snow. What could he do with snow?
He reached down and scooped up a handful. He packed it lightly and threw it at her back. It landed with a satisfying smack in the middle of her parka.
She looked over her shoulder at him with one eyebrow raised. Before he saw what she was doing, she’d scooped up some snow and thrown a snowball in one graceful motion. It landed in the middle of his chest. Then she lobbed a second one at his shoulder while laughing and diving for cover.
Howling outrage, Jason tossed another one, hitting the tree she’d ducked behind. He pulled his coat closed, which only made the snow stuck to his sweater melt faster. The cold water did nothing to cool him off. The sound of her laughter goaded him. She hit him with another snowball. He ran for where she was hiding, catching another snowball in the shoulder as he went. He tackled her, but she managed to swing their bodies around so she sat astride him when he landed. Her left hand fell in the middle of his chest while her right dug into the snow. Then her face changed.
Jason watched the laughter die on her lips. Her legs tightened around his hips. Jason bit back a groan. She licked her lips, leaving them slightly open. He stared at her damp lips, seeming to hover above him, just out of reach. He felt helpless waiting for her to choose him. Her left hand reached out to trace his jaw. Her fingers should have felt cold against his skin, but her touch made him warmer. He trembled.
She leaned down and touched her lips to his. A small moan escaped her. Her hand pressed against his chest as though she wanted to push away, but couldn’t. Jason’s fingers started searching for the hem of her parka. He could only feel her warm mouth on his. Her tongue brushed his lips.
He shuddered and pulled her tight against him. He plundered her soft mouth, invading her warmth, drinking it into himself, feasting in her sweetness. He couldn’t control himself. Better than the fantasy, so much better. He dug under her parka trying to feel her bare skin with his fingers. He wanted to roll them over so he could press her body into the snow. He wanted to open her parka to feel her body against his. She moaned loudly and the sound vibrated through him, flooding him with heat. Her hand slipped from his chest to the back of his neck. Now she seemed to want to pull him closer. Jason gratefully obliged, pulling her down as he arched up to her. He throbbed to move inside her. Her small body slid against him with a sweet friction. His mind spun desire into an elaborate cocoon. It didn’t matter that he was laying in six inches of snow, he wanted to undress her and make love to her now.
She pushed away from him. Her eyes looked wildly at him for a moment before she struggled to her feet.
“What?” he asked thickly.
She almost ran back to the downed tree. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have led you on.” She grabbed her chainsaw and hurried toward her garage.
“Come again?” Jason struggled to his feet. The snow suddenly felt cold, melt soaked through his sweater and a crisp wind blew into his open coat. He hurried after her.
“I didn’t mean-”
“I did.” He followed her though the door. When she had hung up the chainsaw and turned around, he stood behind her crowding her and cutting off her escape routes. She took a step backward, pressing against a worktable. “Listen, you can’t just start something like that and then leave me out in the cold like this.”
“I have to.” She pursed her lips into a prim line. She seemed to go colder than the snow melting down his chest. “I’ve been down this road before and I didn’t like where it ended.”
“What road? The next two weeks?” he demanded. “I’m not asking you to marry me or live with me or give up your life, I just want this.” He reached for her hand. Thwarted desire gathering in his throat like a sob. He wanted to beg her not to abandon him, but the words wouldn’t come out. “I want you,” he said huskily.
05-19-2007 08:15 AM
You know how I feel about the rock star, already. He's just lovely (sigh). NOw for the sex, there are only a few points on word choice.
Here:"invading her warmth, drinking it into himself, feasting in her sweetness" I know what you're trying to say, but we hear these all the time. My problem was that it doesn't sound like you. I've read a few of your stories. You have a straightforward style so vagueness stands out. I wanted specific, like the rest of the story. The way her lips felt. This guy is manly, sexy. I think he'd think in the physical, sliding, slipping, moist, wet. Did this make any sense? Even the smell of her breath could be something he'd notice because he's still down on that physical level of attraction. Sweetness tends to come later for men, if it comes at all. Her being sweet isn't the primary thing on his mind now. Her being hot definitely is.
I love the dialogue.
here:"“What road? The next two weeks?” he demanded. “I’m not asking you to marry me or live with me or give up your life, I just want this.” He reached for her hand. Thwarted desire gathering in his throat like a sob. He wanted to beg her not to abandon him, but the words wouldn’t come out. “I want you,” he said huskily."
I wanted him to do something else. Press her. Make a move. Get assertive about his current condition. You know which one I mean. Guys really hate stopping. You covered that but he was...emotional? about it. I wanted him to be thinking more of himself, selfish.
I say this because your guy is there in the moment, in his career, and it's all about him, right? His girlfriend left. He's humiliated. He's got something to prove. That's where he is. The magic of meeting this girl is that she blows all that away. The romance with her will change him, move him from "me" to "her and us". When I read your chapter, that was the possibility that set me a tingle. Watching him realize that the girlfriend leaving him was the best thing he'd ever lived through and watching him grow up would be so very sweet. Let me try a rewrite to illustrate my point which I know may be confusing.
“What road? The next two weeks?” he demanded. “I’m not asking you to marry me or live with me or give up your life, I just want this.” He reached for her hand pulling her to him. He needed this. She couldn't turn him down now. Not after that kiss. He wanted her so bad he choked on it. His mouth opened, but he struggled to force words past the lump in his throat. “I want you,” he said huskily."
It's just to illustrate my extremely abstract thinking up there. He's a rock star, so he's gotta be Alpha. He's gotta be assertive, sometimes aggressive and musicians are impulsive. I've known a few. From the concert pianist to the grunge guitar player they all have a passion for momentary impulses. I can't believe how much I like your musician. He's so yummy.
Hope this helped. I can't wait to go to a bookstore and buy this one!
Then bloody swords and armor should not be:" Thomas Campion
05-24-2007 10:49 AM
Then bloody swords and armor should not be:" Thomas Campion