Book 4 – Stoker’s Serenity

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      “The sole art that suits me is that which, rising from unrest, tends toward serenity.” -Andre Gide

Serenity’s life has been anything but serene…

Nothing about that looks like it’s going to improve when her best friend drags her to a local metal show. She reluctantly goes along, but once again proves to be a magnet for trouble. Then he steps out of the crowd.

Usually, the shows Stoker plays are pretty chill, despite the amped-up energy of the crowd. When he spots the little brunette in distress, he has no trouble stepping up and stepping in. Turns out it might be the best decision he’s ever made.

Neither Stoker nor Serenity can believe their luck in finding the other. Still, between club life and dark secrets of a hidden past, their budding romance may be clipped before it ever has a chance to flower.

Her body fit mine like a glove. Warm and silken wet, she was so soft around me, her eyes tender as she gazed up at me, giving herself over so completely. She was so beautiful, her long hair spread over my pillow, her lovely brown eyes heavy-lidded and filled with passion and I could tell she felt everything just so completely, gave as good as she got, her pelvic muscles gripping me tight, pulling me in, her arms gentle, her hands smoothing over every inch of me she could reach.

She was so present, so fully here with me. I’d never been with a woman who didn’t just lay there and take what I gave her with not so much as a care as to whether I was getting off. Serenity wasn’t like that. This was something uniquely different. This was a true sharing, a meeting not just between our two bodies, but our two souls… and I was here for it.

I lay over the top of her, cradling her face, bracing against the bed so I didn’t crush her, but rather embraced her. She climbed my body like a little spider monkey, her arms around my neck, legs around my hips, meeting me thrust for thrust, an enthusiastic partner in sex and I couldn’t ask for more. She was so wonderful, so beautiful; kind, funny, smart, sexy, and cool for me – and yet she didn’t think she was worthy. I could see it in her eyes, in those little nervous blushes, in the way she wouldn’t make eye contact with me, and finally in her little self-deprecating comments.

I tried my damnedest to chase all of those doubts back into the black where they belonged. Tried to tell her with the way I worshipped her body that whatever was past had passed, and that the here-and-now was all that mattered.


Text Copyright © 2019 A.J. Downey

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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