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Raine Miller Romance

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On Writing

Brynne the Model~

February 4, 2014 by Raine Miller 8 Comments

vintageBrynneBrynne the model.  Yes, we mustn’t forget this is how Ethan discovered his American girl in the first place.  And the particular type of modeling she does?  …Well, let’s say has caused some bumps along the way for these two–especially him.

With Rare and Precious Things just 23 days out, here is another teaser for you.  Ethan and Brynne are at a cocktail party, at the home of Marco Carvaletti, while honeymooning in Italy.  Marco is one of Brynne’s photographers, and Ethan…well, he isn’t so keen about the party, but he goes anyway.

xxoo R

 

***

“BELLA, you look magnificent, the glow in your cheeks, everything, is utter perfection.”  Marco, kissed me on both cheeks as was custom, then held me at arm’s length for a thorough perusal.  “Lovely dress.  I can see that marriage and motherhood is agreeing with you, darling.”

I felt Ethan’s hand at my back soften and relax at Marco’s friendly, but appropriate greeting.  Maybe he’d get over his paranoia that Marco was trying to bag me every time he photographed me.  Ethan just didn’t understand that Marco wasn’t like that at all.  He was a professional photographer doing a job with me, and nothing more.  Well, nothing more than a working, platonic friendship.  He’d always been kind to me, and I liked working with Marco Carvaletti very much.  I hoped Ethan could see it here tonight as we all interacted.

“It is, Marco, and I don’t think I could be any happier.”  I leaned into Ethan, nudging him to speak up.

“Mr. Carvaletti, thank you for the invitation.  We’ve been looking forward to this all day.”  Ethan lied smoothly, offering his hand, playing the social gentleman to perfection, which he was well skilled at.  I guess he did it out of love for me.  I knew he didn’t want to be here anymore than he wanted me modeling.  I mouthed a thank you only visible to him.  He kissed me on the cheek and whispered in my ear, “Don’t forget about Simba, baby.”  Then he wandered off to get drinks for us.

Marco took me on a tour of his elegantly restored 17th century villa as I marveled at all of the art.  He had a whole room set up as a gallery of his photographs.  There were a couple of me in there.  One where I sat in a formal chair with one knee up, strategically placed, my expression far away and pensive.  The other pose was a side view recreation of a vintage Ziegfeld Follies girl with a feather boa and some satin pumps.  It was one of the first portraits I posed for and I really thought it was nicely choreographed.

“It is a beautiful piece, bella.  I knew when we did that series you had the gift.”  Marco stood behind me admiring the image he had created with me as the subject.

“I was so nervous posing, but you made me laugh when you told me to imagine Iggy Pop in a dress.”  I shrugged.  “That broke the ice and I was fine after that.”

“That one works for me every time, bella.”

“Well, Iggy Pop in a dress is funny, so good job, Marco.”  We laughed together and made our way back to the main gathering.

Where was Ethan with my drink?  I scanned the room for sight of him, but didn’t see his tall form standing out among the crowd anywhere.  And I needed water.

“He is talking to Carolina and Rogelio, my friends,” Marco said, correctly reading my quest to find Ethan.  “I believe they have discovered they are acquainted already.”

Really?  Ethan knew people at this party?  I suppose it wasn’t as bad as he’d predicted it would be after all.  Couldn’t wait to bust him about his whining to come here.

“Oh, well that’s great.  I look forward to meeting them.  But first, I need to get some water.  I’m really thirsty after spending a long time swimming in the ocean today.  Must be all the salt.”

“Come with me, bella, I will take care of you.”

***

Filed Under: On Writing Tagged With: Blackstone #4, Rare and Precious Things by Raine Miller, Rare and Precious Things TEASER

Honeymoon Dating

January 20, 2014 by Raine Miller 11 Comments

Mr. and Mrs. Blackstone have a "date" on their honeymoon.
Mr. and Mrs. Blackstone have a “date” on their honeymoon.

~***~

“What are we doing on the beach?” I asked, as he  led me along the cool sand under my bare feet.

“Having our date.  Trust me, baby.  This is something I have all planned out for us.”

“I bet you do.  I am well aware that when you say date you really mean sex—”

My words were lost as we rounded a turn in the beach path and came out onto the shore. The waves lapped at the sand with the soothing sounds of water moving against earth.  A sliver of moon glowed up over the water, but the real beauty was the many glass jars lit up with tea lights set out on the soft sand of the beach. What seemed like hundreds of them flickering away around a pallet of blankets and pillows.  Off to one side, sat a bucket of iced drinks and what appeared to be little dessert cakes on a tray with some fresh fruit.

“It’s beautiful, Ethan.”  I could hardly speak as I realized what he’d done.  “How did you do…all of this?”

He led us onto the blankets and drew me down to sit beside him.  “It was my idea,” he began, “but I needed some help to pull it off.  Franco got it organized while we were at the party.”

I looked around behind us, imaging if the caretaker for our villa was lurking in the dark hoping for a glimpse.

“I know what you’re thinking, but you don’t have to worry, baby, Franco is not in the bushes watching, trust me.”

I laughed nervously.  “Well, if Franco is in the bushes somewhere, I am predicting he’s gonna get one hell of a show.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear.  My girl accepting the idea of a hot beach shag,” he whispered teasingly against my ear, his tongue flicking out for a lick along the shell.  “You like my surprise.”

My body came instantly alive, needing him so badly.  Ethan could get me hot with just the simplest look or touch.  He reached up and worked on the messy knot holding up my hair and unpinned it.  He was getting good at figuring out my hair.  It made me smile to watch him as he found the pins and pulled them, knowing how he’d be fisting my hair in handfuls and using it to dominate when we were deep into the sex.

“You’re smiling,” he murmured as he worked over my hair.

“I just love to watch you doing simple things.”

My hair fell free.  “This is not a simple thing to me,” he whispered, fingering through the tangled length with both hands.  His gaze grew smoky as he focused on my lips.  “It’s everything.”

~***~

 Rare and Precious Things is coming February 28th.

Preorder here:  Blackstone Affair BOOK 4

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Filed Under: On Writing Tagged With: Ethan and Brynne, Ethan Blackstone, Rare, Rare and Precious Things, Rare and Precious Things by Raine Miller, Rare and Precious Things TEASER

Wedding Night for the Blackstones

January 8, 2014 by Raine Miller 26 Comments

Teaser no 3 collage

At the end of Eyes Wide Open, Ethan and Brynne were about to embark upon their wedding night.  Here’s a little tease for you to enjoy from the upcoming fourth installment in my Blackstone Affair series–Rare and Precious Things.

Twitter Hashtags  #RareAndPreciousThings  #Blackstone4

 ****

We both stood there panting,  our faces so close, but yet, not touching; him in his tux with the purple brocade vest, me in my vintage inspired lace wedding dress, the sexual tension crackling in the air between us like a raging electrical storm about to go nuclear.

I told Ethan what I wanted.

“I n-need to get ready for you,” I managed on a shaky breath, hoping he understood this was something important to me.

He swallowed hard, making his Adam’s apple flex at his throat.  “All right,” he said slowly.  “I’ll do the same.”

I looked back to where the glow from the en suite bathroom showed me the way.  “Where will you go?” I asked him, feeling slightly guilty about kicking him out, even if for just a short while.

“The adjoining bedroom is also very nice.”  He gestured toward a door in the wall to the left of the bed.  “These old manor houses always had lord and lady connecting bedrooms so they could meet up for the real important, private stuff that happened in the night.”  He drew a finger across the low neckline of my bodice, moving especially slow over the swell of my breasts sitting against the lace of my gown.

“Oh?  The important private stuff you say.”

“Undoubtedly, baby.  The shagging…is…very…very…very…important.”  He gave me soft, seductive kisses between each of the words.

“Which room are we in right now?  Lord’s or lady’s?” I asked breathlessly.

He shrugged.  “No idea.  Don’t care either.  I shag and sleep wherever my lady is, and I always will.  Pick a room, Mrs. Blackstone.”

I sighed with need and forced myself to take a step backward, creating some distance between our bodies.  “Okay…how does this room in fifteen minutes sound?” I stepped backward again, moving closer toward the bathroom door, my eyes never leaving his blues as they tracked my movements.

Those same beautiful blue eyes also glittered at me with all the shuttered heat of a man who would be ravishing me very soon.  Please, and thank you.

He gave me the serious Ethan-stare, the one I’d seen many times and was well familiar with—the one raw with male prowess…and the overpowering sexual dominance.

“Like fifteen minutes too fucking long, my beauty.”

****

Rare and Precious Things publishing everywhere February 28, 2014.

 

Filed Under: On Writing Tagged With: Blackstone #4, Blackstone 4 Pre-order, Blackstone Affair Book 4, Blackstone Wedding night teaser, Mr. and Mrs. Blackstone, Rare and Precious Things, Rare and Precious Things TEASER

A Scottish Christmas

December 24, 2013 by Raine Miller 8 Comments

I like to do a short story for Christmas every year.  Last year I did one about Brynne shopping on Christmas Eve in London, and her chance meeting with a very special lionfish–aaaaand a certain delicious smelling Brit in a nice coat.


This year I thought it would be fun to highlight the holidays for Neil and Elaina’s first Christmas together as a married couple, from my newest book, Cherry Girl.  If you haven’t read the book yet, it won’t ruin it for you.  (Unless knowing they get together in the end and married, ruins it for you.)  LOL


Blessings to all for a beautiful holiday season.

xxooR

A Scottish Christmas

 

24 December~

The Scottish winters were quite a step up from London’s constant wet.  The only difference was several degrees colder temperatures.  And constant wet.  I couldn’t complain too much though, and I never would, because I was blissfully happy being up in Scotland were it was very cold, and very wet, because I had my man to keep me warm when I felt the chill.  He never let me get chilled anyway.  I smiled secretly and thought about just how warm he’d made me in our bed this morning when he woke me up.  And last night before we fell asleep.

No, Neil was a dedicated husband when it came to seeing to his wife’s every comfort and pleasure.  Or, more accurately—pleasures.

We’d only been married for eleven weeks, but were still newlyweds in our heads where it mattered.  Just a little more than a year ago, we’d come crashing back together after so long apart.  I’d learned to accept that we were meant to be—and that in the end, nothing could have kept us from our fate.  We were truly destined to be together.

Our journey to get to this point, had been a painful one, but that was all in the past now. Neil and I had both learned so much along the way.  Like when you get a second chance, you hold onto it with everything you have in you, and thank God you were given the gift.

Which reminded me—I needed to sneak out so I could pick up Neil’s Christmas gift.

I hoped I could manage it without him discovering and trying to come with me.  He didn’t like me driving alone.  Maybe it was his job in the security field that made him so protective of me, but my man was a tad too overdone in that department sometimes.  I was working on training him out of it though.  I had my methods.

I hated to hurt his feelings by saying no, but this was an errand, which needed to remain solo.  My only partner in crime was Batesman, the man in charge of running this place.  I think in the olden days, such a person was called a steward.  I thought of Pride and Prejudice, probably my favorite novel of all time, and how Mr. Darcy had a steward to run the estate for him when he was away on business.

Batesman lived here in Scotland and took care of the place when we were in London working at Blackstone Security International, and he looked after us when we were here visiting, which was mainly at the weekends.  Neil tried to get us up here at least one weekend a month, but since it was the holidays, Neil and Ethan, had ordered BSI closed through New Year’s, with only a skeletal staff on hand to secure any events.  The bosses were on holiday for the holidays.  We had ten more days before work called us back home to London.  Glorious.  Ten.  Days.

Neil said this was our place to make up for all the years we had lost.  And my man was determined to do that for us.  He told me all the time.  He also liked to have me all to himself, just the two of us alone, spending time together doing the simple things that we had both learned not to take for granted.

I cracked an even bigger smile, thinking about how he’d taken his time with me this morning, waking me up from a sound sleep in the most delicious way, or I should say—his tongue.

Neil didn’t hold back with me in the bedroom.  If he wanted to try something, he told me, or sometimes he just did what he wanted, and then asked me if it was okay.  Typical man.  Go for it first, ask later.

But I didn’t mind his tactics.

I was okay with everything my man did for me.  And my body had the luxurious aches and marks on my skin to prove it this morning.

He liked to mark me.  He also wanted me pregnant.

Maybe it was his lack of a normal family life growing up that made him crave the stability of a family.  Neil wanted kids.

We were working on it.  Very diligently.

I grinned as I rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs and ran smack dab into a hard chest that carried the scent of my man.

“I’ve got you now,” he said, as his arms came out to snatch me.  He picked me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist.  “Mmmmm, I like that, beautiful wife.”  He walked us up to the nearest wall, set me against it, and proceeded to kiss me senseless.

“I like it too.”  I managed to mumble behind soft lips and an even softer tongue that continued to own me.  He was seriously dangerous with those lips of his.

“I want to take you back up to our bed and do some more things that I know you like.”  He thrust his hips forward and hit me right where it counted.  My man’s stamina for sex was astounding to me, and something I hoped never changed, but it wasn’t happening right now.

“Nope, Captain.  I can’t.”

He pulled away from my lips and gave me his soulful chocolate eyes.  “But why not?”

“I have important work to do and an errand to run.”  I hoped he would take my explanation, but accepted the likelihood of that happening to be about nil.

“Where are we going then?” he asked, still pressing that impressive erection right up against me.  Yeah, he knew what he was doing all right—tempting me with his body and the promise of more explosive orgasms.  Resisting him was not going to be easy, but right now, it had to be done.

“We are not.  I have somewhere I need to be—”

“I’ll drive you wherever you want to go,” he interrupted, “where is that, Cherry?”  The look on his face made it difficult for me to say the next part.

“I have to go alone on this errand.  You can’t come along.”  I stuck out my bottom lip and mimed a sad face.

He reached around to the back of my thighs and set me down from the wall, but still kept me completely penned in, his big arms on either side of my shoulders.  He shook his head at me, a full-on frown set on his face.  “But I don’t want you driving alone on the roads—”

I brought my hand up to his cheek and looked into his eyes.  I’d learned that touching my man on the face soothed him when I needed to get my point across, and he was less than thrilled with the situation.  Me driving around Scotland on my own in winter and along country roads?  More than qualified as one of those situations that made my husband less than thrilled.

He grew still and waited for me to explain, his brown eyes searching my face.  When I was not forthcoming, he tried again.

“Why can’t I drive you?  I won’t be a pest.  Promise.”

“You can’t come along because I am going to get your Christmas present.  I won’t be long at all.”

Silence.  Pouty face.  A heavy sigh with a bit of eye narrowing.

“Do you know that you have the most adorable pouty face that is possible for a man to have, and not look like a little girl?”

“Is it working?” he shot back sarcastically.

“’Fraid not, Captain.”

“Well then, it’s utterly useless to me then, now isn’t it?”

God, he was hard to resist when he sulked and made the metaphorical knife twist into my heart.  And beautifully handsome and smelling like man-heaven.  Evil torture is what he was doing to me.

Didn’t matter. I still wasn’t letting him come along with me.

****

Later that evening~

 

“You look like butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth, Mrs. McManus.”

“Is that so, Captain?”

“Very much so.”

“Well you look nearly back to normal after your pouty fit from earlier,” she said with that sexy sass that made my cock sit up and beg.

“And I know just what put me back to normal, as you call it.”  And I most certainly did know.

As soon as she’d arrived back to the house after her gift errand, I’d carried her upstairs and kept her in bed for the rest of the afternoon.  Having Elaina all to myself was something I didn’t think I would ever get enough of.  All of those years without her made me an overbearing arse sometimes, I know, but she seemed to put up with me without too much complaint.  And I knew exactly how to keep her content.  I gave her my best lecherous grin.

She ignored me.  “I want to give you your Christmas gift tonight if you don’t mind…I just can’t stand waiting until tomorrow morning.”

“Hmmmm…isn’t that sacrilege?”  Secretly, I was more than pleased by her suggestion. Exchanging gifts tonight would work even better for me as well.

“Maybe it is, but my gift can’t wait until tomorrow.  Like literally can’t wait—”

I kissed her on her puffy red lips, made that way by me earlier, and nibbled on the bottom one.  I liked seeing the evidence of me on her skin, the little markings and flushes where I’d been giving attention during our long afternoon sex session.  Neanderthal or not, it comforted me to know she was mine and wasn’t going anywhere that I wasn’t going.

I nodded against her lips.  “Okay.”

“Well, that was easy.  You must really want to know what I’ve gotten for you then.  I hope you like it.”

“Of course I do, but even more than that, I don’t want to wait to give you your gift either.  I say let’s do this, and I know I’ll love anything you’ve chosen for me.”

The smile she gave me then, lit up her face, making me want to kiss her some more.

“Okay, deal.  I need to go get it.  Be right back.”  She sailed out of the room, and I took the opportunity to go off in search of Batesman.

He’d been helping me with my gift for Elaina.  The man was seriously capable of just about anything and everything.  And he did it all so fuckin’ well.  Boggled the mind how some people could be so damn good at such a variety of things.  I knocked on his door in the east wing and called out in case he’d already turned in for the night.  Tomorrow was going to be a long day, as we had guests coming in early to stay with us.  This place would be transformed into a madhouse for certain with so many people coming up to Scotland to spend the holidays with us, but what in the hell was a big house for if you never used it for anything…  “Batesman?  Is it ready to go now?  My wife has decided to exchange gifts tonight instead of in the morning.”

He poked his head through the door crack and addressed me in that formal voice of his. “Sir, I have madam’s gift right here.”  He shoved a basket at me and then closed his door again.

I frowned.  “Thanks.”  Weird.  Maybe Batesman hated Christmas or something.  Some people had such bad experiences growing up; they found holiday festivities difficult to stomach.  I’d had mostly good ones growing up, a few bad ones when times were not so nice, but didn’t everybody?  Everything was golden now.

I took my basket and walked carefully back with it to the great room.

Elaina was already there, and sitting on the sofa, looking at the Christmas tree.  I still think she trumped the tree.  I knew she did.  Any day.  Any time.  My Cherry Girl was the most beautiful thing in the room.

She frowned at my basket though which didn’t please me.  She probably was going to hate the gift, but I really hoped not.  It sure seemed like a great idea at the time when I thought of it, and Batesman had assured me that she would be thrilled.  I was suddenly struck with how strange of an idea that was…  How in the hell would Batesman even know what Elaina liked or didn’t like?

“Who wants to go first?” I suggested, feeling more worried now than a moment ago.

“I think you should,” she said decisively.  “Sit down beside me, my darling.”  She patted the couch right next to her.

It’s now or never.  I sat down and placed the basket on the floor.

“Close your eyes, beautiful wife.”  She complied as she always did so easily.  Made my cock rock hard when she got submissive like that.  Later, lad.  I reached into the basket and took out the soft, warm, sleepy bundle, setting it carefully onto her lap.  “You can open your eyes now.”  Boy puppy

“Oh.  My.  God.”  Her hands reached down to pick up the puppy and bring him up to her face for closer inspection.

“Not a god, just a little pup,” I teased.  “Blue Merle Great Dane to be exact. “Happy Christmas, darlin’, I hope you like him.  I thought we could use a dog around the place, you know, for protection.”

“Did you now?” she asked absently, as she nuzzled the puppy, which was now a little more awake than he’d been just a minute ago.  “My turn, Captain.  Close your eyes, please.”

I did as she asked and heard the shuffling around of movement as she rose from the couch, and then felt something warm set down in my lap.  Could it be possible?

“You can open up now.”

I opened my eyes to find another puppy looking up at me with blue eyes and a cocked head of inquisitiveness.  This one was a bit darker in the face than the little male I’d picked out for Elaina earlier, and wearing a Christmas plaid ribbon around its neck, but was clearly from the same litter of Blue Merle Great Dane puppies.  Batesman’s odd behavior suddenly made a ton of sense.  The old coot must have been enjoying himself immensely over our little newlywed spectacle we’d provided for him the last days.Girl puppy

“It appears that we have very good taste in dogs, beautiful wife.”

“Obviously, Captain.  We always have good taste.”

She leaned forward to kiss me, the two pups between us.

“Happy Christmas, my darling.”

“Happy Christmas, Cherry.”

THE END

 

Filed Under: On Writing Tagged With: A Scottish Christmas by Raine Miller, Blackstone Affair spin-off, Cherry Girl, Christmas short story 2013

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