Kissing Chaos Read online

  KISSING CHAOS

  Jill Knowles

  ®

  www.loose-id.com

  Warning

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id® e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  * * * * *

  This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable (anal sex, sex while in shifted form, homoerotic sex, violence).

  Kissing Chaos

  Jill Knowles

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by

  Loose Id LLC

  1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-2924

  Carson City NV 89701-1215

  www.loose-id.com

  Copyright © April 2007 by Jill Knowles

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

  ISBN 978-1-59632-452-7

  Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

  Printed in the United States of America

  Editor: Barbara Marshall

  Cover Artist: Christine M. Griffin

  Dedication

  For Mom and Dad, who never doubted I’d sell the book, and who cried happy tears with me when I did.

  Chapter One

  Keily, Oregon, where extraordinary women meet men who are something else entirely.

  The library was quiet, finally. Maggie rested her head on the front counter, the worn beige Formica cool against her cheek. What a day.

  “Hey, Maggie, you missed one,” Julie called.

  Maggie sat up just in time to catch the book her assistant tossed her, saying, “Ah, the simple things.” She loved her job, but lately, she’d been so busy trying to find the money to keep the library open that she hadn’t been able to spend enough time on the day-to-day work. Covering the late shift for a sick employee had made her realize how much she’d missed it. Being in charge of the library wasn’t the constant fun and games she’d imagined as a little girl; it required much more hard work. Her lips curved up in a slight smile. Even now, when things are tough, it’s so much more rewarding than I ever dreamed.

  She looked down at the book in her hands and snorted. Its cover -- depicting a scantily clad, long-haired hunk -- was more than a little ratty and needed recovering. No wonder, since it hadn’t spent a single day on the shelves since it had come in. “I just don’t get it,” she muttered, walking to the repair table. She’d been putting protective covers on all the new books, so the supplies were out and ready for use. At least they had some new books. Donated by Amelia O’Leary -- just as soon as she finished reading them. And slightly used books were better than no books at all.

  “Don’t get what?” Julie, her best friend and fellow librarian, asked.

  Maggie blew at her chestnut bangs to keep them from falling over her eyes. “I need a haircut.”

  “You don’t get why you need a haircut?”

  “No.” Maggie flashed her friend a grin. “I don’t get the whole erotic romance craze. They’re wonderful books, but, I mean, come on, have you ever had sex as good as what these --” She brandished the book at Julie. “-- describe?” Maggie certainly never had, and she knew Julie hadn’t either. That’s why they had driven ninety-six miles to the nearest adult shop in Klamath Falls to buy vibrators.

  “No.” Julie sighed as she absently straightened a pile of book request forms.

  Maggie realized that her best friend was sighing a lot lately and made a mental note to find out why. She leaned over the desk, pulling the book covering supplies toward her. “We can’t keep these books on the shelf, and Amelia O’Leary can’t buy them fast enough. I just want to know why.”

  “Um, Maggie ...”

  “So why read about something you’re never gonna get?” Maggie pulled the worn cover from the book and tossed it in the trash. Since many of the books she’d previously repaired were from the same publisher, she had a number of covers ready in the correct size. She had to give Mrs. O’Leary credit for being unafraid to buy books featuring explicit, and frequently kinky, sex. Maggie read them as they came in, as she did the entire meager crop of new books donated to the library. The erotic romance titles were delightful, but totally over-exaggerated.

  “Really --”

  She interrupted her friend again. “The women in these books have more orgasms in a single sexual encounter than most women will ever have in their entire lives.”

  “Enough,” Julie hissed.

  But Maggie was on a roll and ignored her friend’s tone. “Oh, please, you’re happily married, and you’re a master at faking it. When was the last time you had an orgasm with another person in the room -- and Bob, the hot pink vibrator, does not count as a person.”

  “Maggie, shut up!”

  The desperation in Julie’s voice finally got through to her, and she turned around to apologize. “Hey, sweetie, I’m sor --” The words caught in her throat.

  “Don’t stop on my account.”

  Maggie stared at the man standing on the other side of the counter. Short, was her first impression, followed immediately by, but yummy. “Oops.” The book fell from her hands and slapped loudly against the floor. “We’re, uh, closed.” She glanced up at the clock for reassurance. The ugly, oversized, gray industrial clock said nine-twenty. “We close at nine.”

  Her impressions of him were all in sound bytes: jeans, t-shirt, short, dark brown hair, nice-looking, lean.

  “I was in the reference section.” He smiled at her, his dark eyes full of wicked humor. “I do apologize.” Holding up a book of local maps and aerial photographs, he said, “Would it be too much trouble?”

  Twelve years of customer service experience came to her rescue. “Of course not.”

  He handed the book to her, along with his gray-green temporary library card. How had he gotten a temp card without her knowing about it? Even if she hadn’t seen him fill out the paperwork, all the other librarians loved to gossip. This man was definitely worthy of several minutes of gossip, maybe even a full hour on a slow day.

  Maggie scanned book and card, hoping against hope that the hot blush on her face didn’t cause her cheeks to spontaneously combust. “Here you go, Mr. --” She glanced at the card. “D.X. Hunter.”

  “Thank you.” He gave her a slight nod.

  “You’re welcome. Have a nice evening.” She watched him leave, noting that he had a nice ass beneath his faded blue jeans. Very nice. Squeezable.

  “Well,” she said, turning to her best friend. “That was mortifying.”

  Julie stared at her, her lips thin as twin spots of red rode high on her pale cheeks. “If this conversation gets back to Charlie, I will never forgive you.”

  Where did that come from? Broadsided by her friend’s reaction, Maggie stammered, “What? Jules ...”

  “I love him, okay?” Julie pushed a strand of pale blonde hair behind one ear with a shaking hand. “So he’s not Mr. Romance Novel. So sometimes I fake it. I don’t care. If he knew, he’d be hurt.”

  “I didn’t mean ...” Maggie knew that Julie was having a rough time with her p
arents fighting to keep the café, but she’d never seen her friend so upset. Why hadn’t she said anything before now, if things were that bad?

  Julie held up her hand. “Stop, just stop.” Her voice was tight with suppressed emotion. “I can’t talk about this any longer.”

  “Okay.” This wasn’t right, Maggie thought. After a nasty fight and two months of not speaking to each other when they were in college, she and Julie had always talked things out whenever they disagreed. Maggie kept opening her mouth to apologize and ask if they could talk, but the closed-off expression on her friend’s face kept the words from escaping.

  They finished closing the library and walked to their cars without further conversation.

  * * * * *

  Maggie flopped back onto her bed, exhausted. The dark purple cotton bedspread was wonderfully cool against the palms of her hands. Rusty and Crank snuggled up to her, purring their happiness that she was home, but she couldn’t even find the energy to pet the two cats.

  The day had been a complete bust. Story hour had started late and been filled with nonstop crying, an instance of loss of bladder control, and one of vomiting. Miss Eva, ninety-six years old and full of mischief, had managed to sneak out of the library without checking out any of the five books she took with her, Mr. Rumston had dropped his pants and mooned the Sage Hens reading and discussion group, and Maggie had managed to both embarrass herself and alienate her best friend with a few ill-timed, if true, comments. And since she volunteered her time on the weekends, she wouldn’t even have extra money to spend in return for working a double shift. Saturdays just didn’t get much worse.

  Me and my big mouth. She covered her eyes with her forearm. She hadn’t meant to blurt out information about Julie and Charlie’s sex life in front of a strange man. He shouldn’t have even been in the library. Julie had done a check of the premises just before nine, shooing out all the late browsers. All but one. And maybe I should have listened to Julie. Had there been other things she’d missed? Was that why Julie had been so angry?

  It had just been so nice to talk about something innocuous like romance novels for a change. Maggie stared at the framed print of Van Gogh’s Starry Night, her favorite piece of art. She’d spent the entire week crunching numbers in an attempt to find the money to keep the library open six days a week, but it just wasn’t there. Even with the staff working for no pay on Saturdays, the electricity -- especially now with the swamp cooler running -- was just too expensive. They were going to have to start closing completely on the weekends, and would probably have to cut back their hours during the week in order to stay afloat. If only the city didn’t have the stupid rule about all municipal buildings remaining open Monday through Friday. Mondays at the library were always dead. Tuesdays through Saturdays were by far their busiest days, and provided the most services to the most people.

  “Enough,” she said, copying her mother’s “you’re in trouble, young lady tone.” “Margaret Jane Monroe, you need to leave work at work.”

  The image of their unexpected patron popped into her mind. She wondered where he was from and how long he was staying in town. Odd that she hadn’t heard any gossip about him. With the population of Keily, Oregon steadily declining, any new people were cause for comment. “D.X. Hunter,” she murmured. “Definitely a romance novel name.” I wonder what the D.X. stands for? Probably something boring.

  He was certainly good-looking -- though perhaps a bit too short for the classic hunk. She was five-seven, and he was at least two inches shorter. And his hair wasn’t nearly long enough. Novel hunks had to have enough hair for the heroine to get her hands into. Maggie wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was so the heroine would have something to play with while the hunk went down on her. And as much time as novel hunks spent licking clit, the heroine would need something to hang onto to keep from bucking her hero off.

  Hmmm. He could be from the military sub-genre. Military hunks had short hair -- because of regulations. Nope. Military hunks had to be tall -- over six feet -- to compensate for their hair deficiency. She giggled. It was probably a good thing that romance writers didn’t make the rules for military service.

  And why am I thinking so much about a guy I only find mildly attractive, and who, I’m sure, thinks I’m an utter idiot?

  It wasn’t like she was looking for another boyfriend, or even a one-night stand. James had put her off men for life -- or at least for the next few months.

  She still couldn’t believe James had freaked when he’d found out she used a vibrator when she masturbated. And then asked -- no, demanded -- that she get rid of all her toys. “It’s insulting to me to think that I can’t satisfy you,” he’d said in that insufferably priggish tone. He hadn’t been interested in learning to be a better lover, just mad that she might find him lacking.

  What a jerk. What had she ever seen in him? The man owned more shoes than she did, for heaven’s sake.

  Groaning, she pushed herself off the bed, jostling the cats. Rusty mewped at her, and Crank made one of her rurnk noises, sounding like the tin woodsman before the application of oil. “Come on, girls, treats for kitties so mommy can have her treat.” She led them out into the kitchen, where she filled their bowls with pureed chicken baby food. Both cats settled in, purring while they ate.

  Back in her room, Maggie shut the door behind her and stripped off her clothes, tossing them into the dark purple wicker hamper, and sat down on the edge of the bed.

  Hmmm, what am I in the mood for tonight? She lazily brushed her thumbs across her nipples, smiling as they pebbled under her touch. She liked her breasts; they were large and full, a true double D-cup. Trailing her hands down over her tummy and hips, she luxuriated in the sensation of skin-on-skin. Her body, though overweight by modern standards, made her happy. She was beautiful, and she knew it.

  She had just touched the top of her neatly trimmed brown pubes when the perfect fantasy slipped into her mind. Lady Margrita hadn’t rewarded her faithful servant in far too long. A slow, sensual smile curved her lips as she pictured the glorious stone sentry perched at the edge of the castle balcony. A low moan escaped her throat as she slid her hands back up to cover her breasts, positioning them so that her nipples slid between her middle and ring fingers. She licked her lips, loving the way the pale pink tips peeked out from between her spread fingers. She pressed her fingers together, and the delicious pressure made her nipples ache with arousal. The gentle rush of moisture between her legs made her gasp. Oh, yes, I need this.

  After giving herself one last squeeze, padded to her dresser, enjoying the slick feeling of friction against her most tender flesh as she walked. She opened her lingerie drawer and looked down at the multicolored froth of silk and satin. After a day like today, I need extra pampering.

  A dusty purple silk teddy was just the thing. She pulled it on, savoring the slide of silk against her skin. The lacy bodice scratched pleasantly across her sensitized nipples. Her favorite Celtic harp CD and a few lightly scented lavender candles placed on the bedside table completed the mood she wanted.

  She knelt in front of the oak chest at the end of her bed and gazed at the treasures she kept inside. Reaching in, she chose “David,” nine inches of teal and white tie-dye patterned plastic with a vibrating gel cup that fit over her clit. Her other hand hovered over the plain lube before grasping the mango-flavored stuff.

  Maggie placed her toys on the extra pillow on her bed and turned off the lights. The flickering of the candles provided enough light for her to climb into bed. Snuggling down into the crisp green cotton sheets, she reached between her legs to unsnap the crotch of her teddy. Once she was comfortable, she popped the cap on the lube and spread a generous amount on David. Her eyes fluttered closed as she slid the tip of the dildo into her mouth, slipping into her fantasy as she did so.

  Lady Margrita closed her mouth around the cold marble penis, willing her servant to awaken. As the stone warmed in her mouth, she tongued the slit, lapping up the gargoyle’s tangy se
ed as hard gray stone softened into flexible skin. After giving him one last teasing caress, she leaned back on the lounge, opening her legs. The gargoyle knelt in front of her, his long, rough tongue finding her center.

  “Mmmmm.” She moaned low in her throat as he nibbled gently on her labia, then laved her pussy several times with the flat of his tongue before concentrating on her clit. He settled in, suckling at her greedily. She moaned, closing her legs loosely around his broad shoulders as she stroked his long, silky, white hair. He hummed his pleasure, the vibrations tingling across her clit and making her squeal. Sensation swamped her, and she snapped her fingers. The gargoyle crawled up over her, his living marble skin cool against her heated flesh.

  Reaching down, she guided his lovely hard cock into her sopping pussy, gasping as he rammed it home in one smooth plunge. At her urging, he rutted in her like an animal, his thrusts rough and powerful.

  Lady Margrita cried out as she came once, twice, a third, and then a fourth time. Sated, she snapped her fingers again. Obeying her command, the gargoyle came, spilling his seed into her with a soft cry of pleasure.

  They lay quietly for a bit, then she tapped his muscular shoulder. The gargoyle carefully withdrew from her and climbed back onto his pillar. Lady Margrita sat up, took his still-hard shaft into her mouth, and sucked gently, the mixture of his tangy seed and her own musky juices like ambrosia on her tongue.

  Maggie sighed as she set the dildo on the extra pillow. Nice. She slid her right hand between her legs, while her left rubbed and plucked at her nipples through the lace. A fifth, gentle climax relaxed her completely. After licking her fingers clean, she pinched the candle flames out. As she faded into sleep, her last thought was take that, romance novel hunk.

  Chapter Two