A Short Story

Verin watched a group of young soldiers grapple behind the mess tent. He split his time between checking on Fynta and offering pointers when one of the guys showed bad form. So far, comms were still offline to the group that had entered the temple, but Verin didn’t worry. Fynta was impossible to kill, and he had little stake in the others. Granted, he rather liked the Togruta. She’d fought well on Tython.

She had grabbed her pink Cruiser, and like always, I had ended up riding her little brother’s bike. We made our way out of the garage, into the cul de sac, and ended up taking a left turn onto the narrow road, where only three houses resided. This road was always one of my favorite places in town. Though short, the road had a canopy of willows and a bright blue house on the left hand side. Once we passed the blue house, the bike path dipped down and suddenly, we were in the park. Today, Jacqueline and I decided to go the left side of the park. We passed a line of trees and proceeded the route. This part of the bike trail followed the fence of the blue house, leading to the swale, and then the garden. About every 50 feet, we passed a bench. What's the worst thing that could happen to two second grade girls on

Sheriff Eldritch Meeks straightened his hat and emerged from the Chevy Bel Air. Its beacon singed into the back of his neck. Red. Eldritch watched thin sheets of dust sweep down the highway. Everything was fuzzy. He wiped rain from his eyes and took a deep breath. The knife twisted harder into his brainstem. Headaches. The pain was getting worse. Stabbing. Pinching. Wriggling. Eldritch needed a cup of coffee and a cigarette. He needed a fucking detox. But it would have to wait.

When Vivian revealed her face, Cecilia had taken in every inch of it. It didn't show on her, but she was still scanning her old muse. Her old lover. Her old slut. Sure, they'd done rough things, and played around with punishment, but Cecilia had always been careful. She probably would always be so, but there was something else inside of her now, that weren't there back then. An aggressive obsessiveness, she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to wrestle free of. She'd lost Vivian, when she'd needed her the most. She wasn't going to let that happen again. She couldn't. A part of her realized then, just how much she needed Vivian. How much she loved her. That love was still there. Only the trust was still stained. Tainted. But trust could be

As expected, when Tom opened his locker the following morning, he found a note from Tyrell. Typed on a ripped piece of paper, the instructions were clear yet concise.

Bucky had begun his fifth circuit of their tiny living room when he heard the tell-tale thump of the busted step leading to their floor: the board was near-rotted underneath the worn carpet and always slid out a bit and back in each time you stepped on it.

“Hey, not bad,” Verin remarked as they entered the hangar where the Thunderclap sat. “That thing as roomy as it looks?” The bounty hunter radiated energy on a level that rivaled Fynta. Jorgan sympathized with the man. He clearly worried about his wife, but forced a cheerful facade for reasons Jorgan would never understand. Cormac did the same when he was nervous, whereas Fynta fought back with snark, and Dorne with research. Aric wondered if he had a coping mechanism, then remembered his reputation for being a hardass.

JOHANNA’S AX SLICED INTO the floor beneath her and she breathed in heavily, smirking menacingly at a slightly shocked Katniss and Peeta, who had just entered the training room. Reeve sat on the steps that led up to the platform that Johanna practiced on.

He could sense the second he found it, that spot that would tip her over the edge, and Brett watched Elena's expression, entranced. His fingers worked relentlessly inside her as he felt her climax building and when she shivered and gasped, then came for him, he felt a sense of satisfaction, but also another, indefinable, emotion. More than simple lust. Whatever it was, as she writhed in pleasure, it led to him kissing Elena again hungrily, tongue pushing deep into her mouth, sucking licking and nibbling hers with their lips mashed together, and hot breathy pants mingling. "Good girl."

“What do we have to do Austin? What’s this business all about? I wanna court Ms. Ellis and your interrupting me. Some friend you are. Can’t even let an Ol’ man have some fun.” Jess said. “We do have business Jess. If you’ll remember, last night we had a hell of a camp fire and somebody’s gonna be asken’ where the Wilson brother’s bodies are. We’re gonna have a talk with the Sheriff. Then we’re gonna give our ladies some special treatment.” “Oh, now that’s different. I knew you liked Lena.” Jess said as he slapped Austin’s shoulder. “I don’t and what do you mean like Lena? Besides those aren’t the ladies I’m speaking of. I mean Madame and Twighlight. Remember?” “Oh yeah, of course. I knew that.” Jess said. Then mumbling to

Words such as desire; hungry; needy; and wanting suddenly sprang to mind as each step brought Lillian closer to him. She couldn't take her eyes off him; what was even crazier was that she didn't want to. In fact, all she wanted was to get to know him. Life was too short to wonder what would have; could have; or, should have. Thinking so wantonly brought a deep blush to otherwise pale cheeks. The smile that had appeared upon seeing him first hadn't dimmed. If anything, it had become brighter.

Another pocket full of change added to the jar after a day of work. Every penny, nickel, dime, and quarter has made into that jar for years. First he wanted a gun, for the annual hunting trip with his brother. Then he wanted a fancy saw to build some bookshelves. So Jim dropped the coins in the jar, and once it was full he counted, and recounted before rolling the change and making a trip to the bank. But now that he had his gun and his saw, Jim had his eyes set on a bigger toy.

Lincoln found a convenient wall to lean against for a few moments. He had to plan his next move. This was a typical process for a trained agent. He focussed on the main objectives he was sent there for in the first place. Find where this group is operating from. Find who runs it and where they were getting their weapon supplies from. Also how they were being funded. Once done, the AST and the other agencies can step in and eliminate them all. If his spy drone works and the local intel is correct, the first two objectives are almost met. So Lincoln’s current objective was to make sure his drone was working. Once that was confirmed, then get to the Government Headquarters where he first was met and contact the AST. The main problem with that

A solitary figure crossed the royal prison courtyard, his strides as purposeful as the reasons for visiting the penitentiary during the stale midnight hours. His slinky, weasel like features instantly became the source of ridicule from the quartet of guards standing at the entrance gate. The combination of their whispered insults and contemptuous laughter as the lanky man approached, were not well concealed. Without a doubt their lack of discretion was purposefully intentional and, obviously, the insults were blatantly meant to be overheard. All four guards remained at ease, unbothered and unwilling to come to attention even as the stranger stood directly in front of them and waited for some sort of response. The visitor surveyed the

Brian sent a few people to help me with my move one day after we returned from Brazil. I was packed and ready to move into his penthouse the following day.