Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Strong Steele Chapter 45: Snippet #1

Hello! I'm back and here's a Snippet of Chapter 45.

And I would like to thank you guys again, for the massive support. I know, my 'thank you' isn't enough to express my gratitude. I am really glad that you stood up for me and my story. A lot have ignored it and stayed silent but you didn't. You guys, rock. Thank you. (And yes, I saw your comments too, though she deleted the guest reviews. lol)

And I am safe from the super typhoon that had hit the country. For those who have asked, I am deeply touched by your concern. Thank you. I live far from the affected cities. But the aftermath of the typhoon was devastating. Thousands were killed and it damaged millions of homes and properties. If you have included the victims of the typhoon, my fellow Filipinos, to your prayers, Thank you.

I will post another snippet within the next 24 hours. - Ella xx



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I was tracing his bottom lip with the tip of my fingers when he stirred.

He blinked a couple of times before he opened his eyes and muttered in a sleepy voice, “Hi.” Oh dear god, how could he turn me on just by uttering one simple word?

"Hey." I said breathlessly.

He leaned into my touch as I began caressing his stubble. "I've fallen asleep." He said and closed his eyes again.

"You needed it."

I moved closer, shifting to my left so I could face him. He groaned when I placed a leg between his thighs. And oh my.

He was hard. Rock hard.

“And I need you.”


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Sunday, November 3, 2013

JUST ONE NIGHT (1st part of the Spin-off)

Hello! This is the first part of the spin-off I've been working on for past month and a half. It started because of an Elephant woman (here it is! This is for you, hope it will cheer you up after the last week ;)), an avid reader of Strong Steele and madly-crazy in love with Gavin. She's really funny, she shared some hilarious 'Gavin' moment with me that made me think of writing another story with more Gavin in it. So, here it is, though still not finished. But I really want to give you guys something, for making you wait for that SS chapter. I will post this on Fanfiction as a one shot, that would be til I finished the part 2. So treat this as a bonus for checking and subscribing on the Strong Steele blog. This is all mine. The characters and the story, my first original work. I'm honestly nervous about this, please take it easy on me if you are going to leave comments lol. Thanks in advance for reading. Hope y'all like it! - Ella xx


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JUST ONE NIGHT (Part 1)

There were red and blue flashing lights behind me.

Crap. Crap. Crap.

This was not good.

What in hell was a cop doing out here in a county area so remote the radio stations had static? I’d no idea how fast I was going, but I was sure it was at least twenty miles over the speed limit.

Life wasn’t fair.

It had been a long week. Well, scratch that, two long years already.

The night, as predicted, didn’t go too well for James’ liking. All I ever did was to laugh at a joke. The girlfriend of one of James’ co-workers had made the observation, not unkindly, that James’ boss looked like a giraffe. The likeness had been so obvious, I couldn’t help the snort of laughter.

“That was inappropriate behavior. I expected more from you than that.”

Inappropriate behavior.

Maybe it had been too loud. Maybe a couple heads had turned. But all I’d done was laugh, for heaven’s sake.

On Monday, I had to accompany my father to his weekly leg therapy and had been too stubborn to cooperate. On Wednesday, my mother had needed her diaper changed. When she’d cried through the indignity of it, I had cried too. I’d made multiple calls to the insurance company about a ten-thousand-dollar charge my sister insisted was incorrect and therefore refused to pay. Finally, to top off this terrific week, I’d been roped into being James’ arm candy for this business party, the annual “Summer Fling” for which he had to have a date.

God, I was so sick of worrying about what I said, how I did things. Maybe I’d overreacted. But seeing James’ face when I’d told him to “go to hell” had been worth it. I’d even taken his car, a car that certainly shouldn’t belong to a stuffy corporate ass kisser who color-organized his sock drawer.

That’s why I wasn’t afraid to let it loose this time. Driving James’ Porsche Cayenne Turbo was like heaven. God…it felt so good. On these quiet rural roads, nothing around for miles and miles but corn and a rosy summer sky getting ready for sunset, it felt incredible, like riding a horse. Or riding a man. Maybe both were a form of running, but I didn’t care.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled over.

I could handle one cop. The threat of jail had all the appeal to me of a weekend spa session. With a full body massage.

I glanced in the side view mirror as the cop’s car door opened. If I hadn’t been used to seeing refitted drug dealer cars used in the city all the time by the police, I might have suffered a fleeting worry about a blue light bandit posing as a police officer. The car was a sleek black Range Rover. It was an interesting choice of a car. It didn’t answer what a city cop was doing way out here, though. Then he unfolded and straightened from the car and I lost the desire to wonder about anything.

Holy God.

As if I’d been going so fast the world had spun on its axis and now was going way, blissfully slow, his first few steps toward me were like the movies where the hero’s initial walk-on scene was in slow motion.

He wasn’t wearing a uniform. With my earlier thought of a sexual predator posing as a policeman, that should have alarmed me. But when dormant hormones surged to life as they did now, like a pack of wild dogs out of control, it sort of cancelled out brain cells.

His well-creased jeans moved with his hips just right, the badge flashing at me from where it was clipped to his belt. He wore a shoulder holster and his snug dark V-neck shirt was tucked in, capturing the sharp, authentic look of a cop, despite the casual wear. It also emphasized a broad chest, wide shoulders and flat abdomen that drew the eye back past his waist down to other things the jeans held well. He had a black baseball cap with gold PD lettering pulled down low on his brow and wore concealing aviator sunglasses against the setting sun. His jaw line was hard and clean as creek rock, sporting a hint of stubble that went with the dark blond close-cropped hair I could see beneath the cap. His arms. My God, I’d just dwell on those arms for days, the muscular strength they conveyed.

If I could program this moment like my DVR, I’d pause and rewind so he could walk toward me forever. I’d worship the cable company like gods.

The baseball field. I remembered now. As I was headed out of town, there’d been a mixture of cop cars and vehicles with police and fire association bumper stickers. The police and firemen ran a series of six games every year, a benefit for the children’s center. This guy was likely off duty, heading home. So why did he mind if I was doing a little careless joyriding? Was he one of those tight-assed sticklers for the rules?

He’s a cop, woman. They enforce laws. That’s kind of their job.

But he wasn’t on duty. The whine, even in my own head, made me wince. It just wasn’t fair.

From the way the cop approached the car, I knew he was doing that quick assessment police people did to ensure I wasn’t going to pose a threat. Or pull a gun from my micro-sized evening bag.

Oh hell. I had no license with me. I’d left it and my wallet at home because I was with James. I had a clutch purse with a few toiletries in it and that was it.

James. I closed my eyes as I gripped the wheel tight. Damn James.

My dating life in the past couple years had been James. It wasn’t dating I cared about, however. I’d asked Lola, my sister, to pay for a relief nurse to give me a night away from the house once every couple of weeks. My one and only sister had moved north and joined a New York firm, with her boyfriend, an important career move she said she couldn’t turn down, several months after I moved in with our parents. Though I hadn’t been out of nursing school more than a year, at the time it had made sense for me to leave my hospital job to serve as a home health care nurse to my parents. Fate had struck a cruel blow, my father got into a terrible car accident that almost cost him his right leg within a month when my mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer. As my mother’s condition worsened and my father’s limited movements, I knew they needed a good long-term care facility that could be supplemented by my care.

A successful CPA, now engaged and eight years older than me, Lola saw no reason why I couldn’t provide our parents everything they needed at home. As the eldest child, Lola held power of attorney for our parents. At first, I’d tried to believe her reasoning was emotional, based on love. The “we’re not putting Mom and Dad in a home” mentality, lingering from a time when the only choice was a brick box structure on the side of the highway with a few rocking chairs out front. As time progressed, my opinion changed bitterly. She insisted she would take care of the finances insurance didn’t cover and my living expenses, but everything was a fight and grudgingly given.

She’d hung up on me after calling me a selfish bitch trying to drain her bank account. An hour later, I’d been called by James. A former colleague of my sister’s fiance, he needed an attractive arm piece for his business dinners and didn’t have much time to devote to developing a relationship. Lola said she’d pay for an overnight relief nurse whenever I chose to go out with James, as long as it didn’t exceed once a month. In return, I suspected James gave her and her fiance a discount on his brokerage services.

At first, I’d been insulted by the whole situation. But after giving it some thought, I decided to take advantage of it. If it’s the only way I could go out, then spending time with a man wouldn’t be that bad.

On my first date with James, I’d planned to have an early night and spend the rest of her evening elsewhere. I’d take a few dollars I’d put aside to check into a cheap motel and read or sleep for the night, enjoy some solitude. It’s not that he wasn’t attractive, he was just way out of my league and we didn’t have a lot in common.

But for reasons I was ashamed to examine too closely, I’d let James coax me into going home with him and succumbing to some cursory sex I’d actually been grateful to him for initiating. A weak moment where I’d needed comfort, someone’s sheltering arms.

After that it had become a monthly habit. Go to some idiotic boring business function, go home with James. At least he fell asleep quickly. I could then slide out of bed and sit by the window, listening to rain patter on the glass or watching the moon. Sometimes I read whatever paperback novel I’d picked up for escapism. While I was embarrassed at myself, at the whole revolting situation, I knew I didn’t have enough energy left at the end of the day to walk away from it. My mother was sliding fast toward the end and my father was losing hope that he could walk again without any support, and I couldn’t give them everything I knew they needed. I was so desperate for that one day a month where I’d get a few hours away from that reality, I was willing to be whored out to get it.

Imagining James’ arms around me now was smothering. Intolerable. Like a dog trying to wriggle under a fence, stuck in the hole he’d dug, I understood why he’d strangle himself to death trying to escape.

My train of thoughts got interrupted by a tap on the glass. Crap! The cop.

Reluctantly I turned the key and let the window roll down.

“Ma’am, were you aware you were going a hundred and thirty miles an hour?”

Holy shit. I couldn’t help it. A giggle burst from me. I clapped my hand over my mouth. Well, no wonder he’d stopped me, even if he was off duty. I might as well have sauntered past his window and waved a bag of cocaine.

When he frowned, I had a sudden urge to nibble on his firm lips. What was the matter with me? I bit back more of that inappropriate laughter. Seems all the men in my life, including this newest addition, didn’t approve of my laughing. Well…fuck them. In fact… My gaze coursed over him. That would be a really good idea. Those jeans looked like they contained something quite capable of inappropriate behavior.

“Ma’am, is something funny? Have you been drinking?” He asked, still frowning.

“No. No.” I shook my head, smothered another nearly hysterical hiccup of laughter. “I should though. I should drink a lot.”

His brow raised, that stern expression deepening, and oh my Lord. My panties dampened, a shocking reaction. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d let myself think about the possibility of good sex. When James and I did it, I tried not to think about what we were doing at all because that would make me realize exactly how horribly unsatisfying it was. His touch barely aroused me. He knew enough to get me lubricated so we could accomplish the act. I preferred to call it that versus “wet” because “wet” implied excitement, emotional involvement.

When he finished, he never even asked me if I had reached climax. Which I didn’t mind actually, because if he thought I expected that, he might try doing it longer. God help me.

Was this cop really masterful like this? Or was it just a trained persona, something he took off like his badge and gun at the end of the day? Did he become a man as lackluster as James, an unimaginative couch potato?

“Ma’am, I need you to get out of the car.” He said in a mean cop voice.

The laughter faded from my mind, leaving a sense of hopeless solitude. Reality had intruded and the gorgeous cop was going to give me a ticket. Another thing to deal with, another thing I’d have to resolve with my sister because I’d wanted one frigging moment to breathe. Something surged up in me so fast and hard it was like a bad reaction to the evening’s hors d’oeuvres and just as alarming. Much worse than vomit.

A muscle flexed in my jaw. “Officer, I…” I swallowed. “Can you go back to your car just a moment, please?”

He lifted a brow.

“I’m going to cry now. I don’t want to cry. It actually…d-doesn’t…help anything. And…and…I’m not a crier!” I blurted it out as I felt the first tears start to well from my eyes. “I don’t…try to get out of tickets and…I d-don’t w-want…please. I’ll take the t-ticket. Just… Oh hell. Go away.”

I hit the window control. I needed a “Come back in five minutes” sign like they had at the bank. Why couldn’t I have had this one thing? Why did it have to be this way, always? What had I done wrong?

I turned away from him, burying my face in my hands. This was just so embarrassing. Making myself looked like fool, laughing because I didn’t notice I was driving too fast and now bursting in tears in front of the gorgeous officer. Why was this--

Before I knew it, he had the door opened and quickly unbuckled my seatbelt, his fingers brushing my hip over my short black silk dress. Gently he took my elbow and leaned closer, gathering me in his arms. Surprisingly, I fit perfectly against his chest.

“It’s okay,” he murmured.

I knew I should have been shocked, but I no longer had the energy to do what was right or proper. The arms around me felt good. Strong. Able to hold me together so I wouldn’t break. Until he’d put them around me, I hadn’t realized how fragile I felt. He smelled of sweat from the baseball game, a faint soap and aftershave smell.

“No…it’s…not. But it doesn’t matter. I still have to keep on going, and I’m s-so af-fraid I c-can’t. That I’ll l-let them d-down.”

“Sshh…sshh… Just let it out.” I had my arms folded between us, as I pushed my head onto his shoulder. I felt him tightened his hold on me and let me sob. God, this was so pathetic. I had to get a hold of myself before I could embarrass myself more. The cop would think I was an emotional wreck and desperately needing some professional help.

When I lifted my head to look at him, I hastily wiped my eyes before he could see me. I bet my tears plus the make-up just gave me an instant halloween mask. But he caught my wrist before I could move them to my eyes. He stopped for a second, looking for something. Then his hand went to his front shirt, pulling it loose and brought the edge up to my face. As he did, my hand fluttered down, landed on his bare stomach, just above the belt holding his jeans.

He was rock-hard muscle. I fought the irresistible urge to spread out my fingers, enjoy the flat stomach, the silken trail of hair I knew would arrow straight down toward his groin. My thumb was on his belt. I should feel emotionally drained after such a cry. Embarrassed and ready for ice cream and female-only solitude. However, as my hand made that intimate contact, hard want pulsed between my thighs, telling me exactly what I was ready for.

Carefully, he kept dabbing under my eyes, looking like he didn’t mind the unintentional contact of my hand on his hard abs. He was so close that the warmth of his body was giving that unfamiliar comfort.

Like my desire to speed in the Porsche, I wanted to ride fast and hard, as fast as I could, higher and higher. I didn’t want to have sex. I’d given up on making love. I wanted to fuck. Like I’d read about, dreamed about. I wanted to fuck this sexy, gorgeous cop with gentle hands and hard muscles, who’d been enough of a good guy to know when I needed a shoulder. Something James wouldn’t recognize if my parents dropped dead, my house burned down and I discovered I’d gained twenty pounds. No. Never.

With his arms bent like this, his biceps swelled into nice firm curves. Oh lord. His hands were long-fingered and looked rough, strong. Normally, I didn’t care that a man might be a little soft, but right now I wanted a man the way a fantasy demanded him to be. A man who would spread my legs with relentless determination and sheathe himself, drowning me in pleasure. Take me over, allow me to think only about his cock and the climax he’d send screaming through my every nerve ending...

Okay, I was taking this fantasy way too far.

He’d straightened to his feet and extended an open palm. He could be kind, but he was still going to do his job, make sure I wasn’t intoxicated.

Taking his hand, I started to get out of the car. Getting out of a Porsche in a short dress didn’t allow modesty. I hesitated as he tightened his grip on me. Insisting I was going to get out of that car.

Well, why not? The speed I’d been going, the exhilaration I’d felt at the sheer freedom of it, came surging back through me. What was I worried about?

He grasped my hand and helped me out of out the car. The skirt hiked up past the lace top of my thigh highs briefly before I rose. While I couldn’t tell for sure, I thought he’d looked.

“What the..” He whispered in quiet voice.

Suddenly my protective cop had the intimidating look of a pissed-off Clint Eastwood. Before I could step back, startled by the change in his expression, his hands slid to my upper arms, holding me fast.

“Who left those bruises on your neck?”


to be continued....