Story Time with the Amazing, Guest Blogger, Donna Mae Greaves…



What Happened Last Night … 

There are times in every woman’s life when she needs to stop and take a look back at what she’s done – no matter how horrid she may have thought the action.

That is precisely what Adana Black was doing as she sat at the foot of the king-sized hotel room bed, holding her throbbing head in her shaking hands.  What the hell DID happen the night before, she wondered, looking at her reflection in what seemed to be the hugest mirror she had ever seen.  She sat there in her sheer black thigh-high stockings, black lacy boy shorts and strapless bustier feeling quite confused by the incessant pounding in her head, which felt like it had been filled with soggy cotton balls.

“Jeez … somebody must have slipped me something…” she whispered, cautiously tilting her head to the side. Uh uh, she thought, straightening her neck as she did; no good.  The rustle of the sheets behind her brought her back to her present ‘situation’.  The man in the bed curled his toes as he stretched … his body as graceful as a tiger’s.  Her body shuddered as she thought about what might have happened between them, and there was no good thought that came to mind.  Yuri De Leon was Adana’s partner and link to Central when she was on assignment.  Theirs was a special relationship … uniquely balanced over the past five years to suit their particular needs, and sleeping together was never a part of the equation unless there was a case involved … and even then, they faked it.  And there was no case involved here.

I gotta get outta here, she thought as she scanned the room for her shoes and dress … was she wearing a dress? Damn but her head hurt.  She needed to get back to her own room and caffeine … and fast.  She spotted her black patent leather five-inch stiletto peep-toes by the bedroom door just as a smoky grey puddle caught her eye.  Yep, she had been wearing a dress … a slinky cowl-necked halter full length number that hugged her ample curves in all the right places.  She vaguely remembered one of the regional heads telling her something about the dress being as deadly as the gun she carried.  She tried to smile but could barely manage a grimace as the pain in her head seemed to escalate.

She shifted slowly off the bed to her feet and padded to the spot where her dress was.  Afraid of making the thumping in her brain worse, she used an old trick taught to her eons ago by her mother, and picked it up with her toes.  She swayed a little.  Whatever the fuck they gave me was some strong shit, she thought angrily.  She shimmied into the dress and crept silently to the shoes.

“Wow … I never had you pegged as a ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em kinda gal.”  She froze as realization and embarrassment warred in her mind.  Yuri was awake and had caught her, mid-escape.

“Fuck,” she murmured, turning guiltily to face him.

 “Well, that’s not exactly the response that I was expecting,”  Yuri said, his twinkling eyes confirming that he was indeed enjoying Adana’s discomfort.  He was now sitting up against the pillows, his torso exposed to his hips.  Adana looked at him, curiously trying to understand how he could be so relaxed in the face of such a serious breach of good sense.  “Good morning ‘Dana.  Was it so horrible that you needed to run away from me?”  She rolled her eyes and sighed, desperately trying to remember exactly what had transpired.  Maybe if I ask the right questions he’ll actually tell me, she thought, her eyes brightening at the idea.

“A lady knows when she needs to make her exit,” she said smiling at him.  She fixed her eyes on a spot behind his head.  Yuri’s body had always been something that bothered her – but in a good way.  He was such a mixture of elements – and a sexy as hell mixture at that.  The product of East Indian and European parentage, his skin was like milk chocolate and smooth as silk … that he got from his mother Asha.  His eyes were the bluest of blues – like the ocean on a beautifully calm, windless day.  Those he got as a birth present from his father Christian.  His red-brown hair he wore cropped close to his scalp, having decided that the lower it was the darker it looked.  “Carrot top is not my thing honey,” he had said to her once when she suggested that he grew it so she could ‘watch the curl come in’.  Everything else he worked hard for. Inclusive of the six-pack abs, the beautiful chest that screamed to be caressed by idle, adoring feminine fingers, the long, lean and toned legs … the arms that looked like those of a well trained prize fighter.  Yeah – it had been a hardship being paired up with that package all of these years.

“I take it you like what you’re seeing,” he teased, smiling as she turned an interesting shade of peach.  She hadn’t realized that her eyes had wandered down his body.

“Yuri … you can’t be serious about this.  Nothing about this bothers you?” she asked, willing him to be as annoyed about their predicament as she was.

“Serious about what?” he asked, linking his fingers behind his head.  “I don’t understand why you look so angry ‘Dana.  You can’t tell me you’ve never thought about this … about this happening between us.”  He swung his legs off the bed and made to walk toward her.  She swung away from him, avoiding looking at his body.  “I’m wearing shorts Adana Black.  Look at me.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” she mumbled.  The heat coming off of her face could cook her breakfast eggs.  Breakfast, she thought, feeling the hole in the pit of her stomach.  Yuri reached for her then and spun her around to face him.

“Why are you suddenly so shy and nervous around me?  It’s not like we’ve never shared a bed before.”  Yuri’s fingers had drifted from her shoulders to her face, his thumbs caressing her cheeks.  Adana felt the heat building in the pit of her stomach, and prayed for the strength to back away from his touch.  She moved, and found herself walking into the door.  She sighed.

“You know that this is not company policy Yuri.  What we did … well … shit, I don’t even remember what we did.  My head feels like someone slipped me a Mickey, and my brain is still trying to process the bits and pieces that I do have flashing, and-” she stopped her rambling and looked into Yuri’s eyes.

“You done? Can I talk now?” he asked, crossing his arms across his chest.  She nodded.  “Good.  One – I don’t know if someone did slip you something, but I think it’s highly unlikely.  This was a private party on a private retreat on a privately owned island.  We’re all on the same team.  Two – you’ve just come back from six months on location, looking after a pain in the ass of a client, and you gotta admit that last night you were the most relaxed that anyone has seen you in months.  Shit, even Harry was talking about how great it was to see you with your hair down and your gun missing.  Three – if you tell me that the only reason that last night happened is because your believe yourself to be drugged I dunno what I’m going to do to you.” 

“Yuri … was I … was I drinking a lot?  I swear I can’t remember anything about last night.  You have to believe me,” she said, feeling the pain increase yet again.

“Think about it ‘Dana … are you sorry it happened?” he asked.

“No … I mean yes … I mean … dammit Yuri!  I can’t think straight … I just told–” He leaned into her then and touched his lips to hers.  She groaned in protest, but was it in protest?  She sagged against the door as his tongue touched her bottom lip.  Confused she may be, but she knew what felt good … and it DID feel good to be kissed like this by him.  He caught her to him, supporting her with his arms.  She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him for all she was worth, thinking that as soon as this one kiss was over she was going to put a stop to this insanity.

Yuri had other plans.  He deepened the kiss, his hands moving like lightening all over her body.  He walked back to the bed and threw her across it.  Her eyes flew open as she touched down.  She found herself looking up into those lipid blue desire filled pools.  Her mind and her body were at war, and this time she wanted her body to win.  She shook her head, trying to silence her ever present logic and sat up, never breaking the stare.  She ran her hands through her mop of spiral curls.

“You’re adorable when you’re clueless,” Yuri said as he crept up the bed to her.  She watched as he used his creeping to push her dress up her legs.  She knew she should stop him, but instead found herself lifting her legs so that the dress pooled around her hips.  He smiled then, pausing in his advancement to remove her shoes.  He reached then for her stocking tops and she gasped, feeling his fingertips caressing her thighs.  His eyes never left hers.  She felt that he was daring her with his eyes.  Strangely enough the thought made her relax.  She lifted her leg to his shoulder as he slid the stocking off.  He smiled and kissed her calf, sending slivers of heat all over her body.  She could feel the tip of his tongue on her flesh.  She sat up and pulled the dress over her head, wondering to herself why she had ever bothered to get dressed in the first place.  Because you were going to leave, her mind screamed.

“Yuri … wait,” she said, looking into his eyes.  The heat that she saw and felt scorched her senses.  He stopped moving, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Why,” he responded, nipping at the fingers that she had held up to him.

“Just wait a minute.”  Adana couldn’t understand the sudden cold feet, but she couldn’t ignore the warning bells either.  She sat up, tenderly running the knuckles of her right hand over his jaw.  He turned his head to kiss them and she smiled.  “I need to understand what’s going on.  And don’t look at me like that – I’m not an idiot … I don’t mean the physicality of what’s going on. I mean us Yuri … you gotta admit this is a little sudden.”  She searched his face and saw the hesitation, not to mention the disappointment.  She sighed.  “It’s not that I’m not into what is going on … I—” 

Yuri placed a finger on her lips.  “Shhh … I understand.”  He changed his position on the bed, taking himself to the furthest corner away from her.  She thought for a second how contrary she was; she missed his warmth already.  In that one movement, something had changed, and now she wasn’t so sure that she should have questioned what was happening.  “Okay … so you wanna know what’s going on.  The thing is that I don’t know what’s going on either.  What I can do is tell you what happened last night…”

Yuri began to spin a tale of what had transpired the night before – his voice was soft and filled all sorts of hidden treasures that made her listen all the harder as she tried to untangle the last few hours.

He spoke of how wonderful she looked as she entered the grand dining room of the resort.  He told her that everyone was stunned – not because she didn’t always look great, but there was something else in her eyes that made everyone sit up and take notice.  She was relaxed, their boss had said, and he had sent Yuri over to her with a glass of wine and the message that relaxation looked exceptionally good on her.  Adana had filled Yuri in on the last few days of her just completed mission, joking that if she never saw another Sheik, it would be too soon for her.  They had joked about some of the trust games that they had played earlier that day with their fellow operatives, saying that there had been a few of them that they would have gladly thrown from off of towers or left to fall on the ground unaided.  Yuri told her that she was practically the belle of the ball, having danced with many a manager and field agent, some of them speaking in hushed tones among themselves about the  ‘body-glove of a dress’ that she had been wearing.  His eyes drifted to her side where the garment in question was nestled.  It was during one of those ‘boys will be boys’ conversations that he finally owned up to what he had been feeling for the majority of their partnership.

That’s when he had walked out onto the dance floor and took her hand from their director.  They had danced together for the rest of the night, pausing only to pick up a glass of something or a plate of something or even to sit and talk.  They had talked about everything and nothing but they talked.  At one point they had walked out to the balcony for some fresh air.

Yuri laughed then … pausing in his story to comment that the scene had been positively Victorian, what with the party behind them, and them alone outside.  He had half expected to see her ‘Mama and Papa’ come hurtling out of the ‘ballroom’ to rescue her reputation from being sullied.  Adana laughed out then – that heady, sultry sound that always hit him in the stomach.  She had moved closer to him on the bed, he noticed.

He told her that there had been a breeze and her hair was being its usual unruly self and he had reached up to move a wisp of it from her cheek and he had ended up kissing her instead.  And she had kissed him back.  A lot. And then they had sort of looked at each other in stunned silence … smiled nervously at each other and headed to different ends of the room.

During Yuri’s recounting of the evening, Adana had started to remember some of this stuff herself, but she smiled and said nothing, rather liking his telling of it.  She remembered now that Nahvid – their director – had come over to her as she re-entered the room and asked her to dance yet again.  He had begun speaking to her, nonchalantly at first, about how difficult it was having a private life in their field of work.  Then he had begun to talk about Yuri and what a professional he was in the field, and then he talked about what a wonderful man he was and what a pity it was that he hadn’t found the right person to settle down with.  She had turned then and looked at Yuri, his carriage, his face, the warmth in his eyes, his genuine smile as he listened to one of their colleagues.  Having Nahvid point out all that was right about him had only served to concretize what she was feeling and had been feeling all evening.  Hell, she had felt this way about Yuri for the longest time, but never dared say anything, for fear of protocol and messing up a partnership that was near perfect.

Through the fog of her own thoughts, Adana became aware of Yuri’s voice as he spoke of the conversation he had had with Nahvid while she had been dancing with one of the senior directors from the East.  He had told Yuri of his admiration for her – her professionalism in the field, as well as the way she carried herself in her own private life.

“I listened to all he had to say and then I jokingly asked him if he was the company matchmaker,” he said, looking sheepishly at Adana.  “Do you know what he said?  He said that he only did it for the people who were too tired, too preoccupied or just too damned stupid to see what was under their noses and he left me at the bar.”

“Hmmm,” she said, edging a little closer to him, “Maybe he just thinks we’d make really good ‘friends with benefits’.”  As the words left her mouth, she held her breath, waiting for his response.

“Adana, if all I had wanted was a fuck-buddy, there were any number of women here last night that I could have gotten into this room, or I could have gone to theirs.  It ain’t about that, although that really was pretty damned good.  It’s about what we have in the field and in the office, and what I want more of, without the play acting and with Nahvid’s apparent blessings.  Shit, I want it even without his blessings.  I don’t care really…”  he reached for her, pulling her into his lap, and kissed her passionately.  She kissed him back with answering ardor, feeling her body respond to his every touch.  She sighed as she locked her arms around his neck.  He raised his head and looked into her heavy lidded eyes.  “Adana,” he said, his voice thick with desire,

“I’m not going to stop or wait … you have to be sure now cuz I’m not turning back.”

“I’m not asking you to stop,” she said, pulling him back to her, “Please don’t stop … not now…” 

Their lips met … then their tongues.  The fire was intense between them.  Yuri reached behind her and unhooked her bustier, running his hands over the exposed flesh of her back.  She ran her hands over his chest and stomach, teasing at the waistband of his shorts.  He laid her on the bed, his hands feeling their way to her boy shorts, sliding them past her wide hips.  She lifted her hips, allowing him to remove them.  Her hands glided his shorts off of his body.  They both kicked as they tried to remove the constraining clothing.  They rolled together … moving from one side to the next as they kissed and held on to each other.  His touch set her pulse to racing, fever pitch.  His hands were on her and in her.  “Do you like this?” he teased.

“Shut up and fuck me,” she whispered.  He chuckled, his voice heavy with lust.

“Ooh … I love it when you talk dirty baby,” he said, nipping the corner of her bottom lip.  He trailed hot, wet kisses as he made his path down her body.  She lifted her legs to his shoulders, granting him entry to her inner treasures.  She screamed as his tongue touched her clit.  His fingers penetrated her as he continued to suck, and flick and nip at her moist flesh.  Adana felt like she was going to explode.  She held on to his head, not sure whether she wanted to push him closer to her or pull him away.

He felt her tremble as he took her to the brink.  Yuri wanted so badly to enter her, but he wanted to give her pleasure as well … to brand her in a way that she would never, ever again forget what had happened the night before.  She was his and she was never going to doubt that … not after this morning.  He climbed back up her body and kissed her deeply.  She held on to him and rolled him on to his back.  She hovered over him, looking into his eyes.  She could see the twin flames of desire and lust there.  He sat up, taking one of her nipples into his mouth.  She arched against him, her body shaking still – or was it again.  She kissed his face … tiny kisses, as if she was trying to memorize every pore.  She kissed his neck, nibbled his earlobe, and made a detailed study of the plains of his chest and stomach with her mouth as she worked her way down.  She looked up at him and licked her lips as she took his steel-hard manhood in her hands.  She lowered her head, running her tongue along his pulsing head. She felt him shudder and heard his gasp of pleasure.  “Do you like that?” she asked, echoing his previous words to her.

“Fuck yeah,” he whispered.  She took him into her mouth, reveling in the way his body shook as she gave him pleasure.  “Dana …” he whispered hoarsely.  He reached down and pulled her up his length, rolling with her as he did.  He parted her legs with his and plunged into her.  “Oh … shit,”  he said, feeling yet again the completeness that he had when he had entered her last night.

“Yeah baby,” she responded, wrapping her legs around him.  She met and matched his every thrust. Yuri kissed her with a hunger that seemed impossible to satisfy as their bodies convulsed to their own rhythm.

Later they lay wrapped in each other’s sweat drenched arms, sated and silent as they both mulled over what had happened between them.

“If you promise not to over think this,” he said, kissing the top of her sweat dampened head, “Then I won’t.”

“Yuh know, you know me a little too well.  I’m not going to.”  She stretched and nestled closer to him.  “It makes sense now.  I suppose it always did.”

“Gee, you fit well there,” he said, pulling her closer still.  She smiled and kissed his chest.

“And you fit well in other places too,” she teased.

There are times when a woman has to think about what she’s done and what she had planned to do, and that’s exactly what Adana Black was doing as she laid in her lover’s arms and thought all sorts of deliciously sexy thoughts about what had happened last night…

3 thoughts on “DANGEROUS CURVES AHEAD by Donna Mae Greaves

  1. Hey Donna!

    Girl, you ALWAYS come here and knock our socks OFF!!! This story is filled with pure passion and we definitely will want to see more from these characters!

    Thanks for sharing your writing with us!!!



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