SHIVER: 13 Sexy Tales of Humor and Horror (16 page)

“Ohhh,” I sigh as I watch.

Nathan gets back to work and his eyes narrow as he slides the blade closer to my belly button and carefully snips again. He sets the scissors down and uses his hands to separate the cut fabric further. His mouth is parted and his eyes full of lust as he skims his fingers across my skin. I can feel the weight of his erection against my thigh.

“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes, do it again.”

He licks his lips. “This is turning you on, huh?”

I nod and trail my fingers over his wrist.

He gives me a crooked smile. “Weird, right? Cause it’s turning me on too.”

I notice how his breath is ragged as he pushes his hand under the spandex and over my soft flesh to protect me from the blade. I feel the metal slide across my belly and my back arches up in response. I can feel the sound of the fabric slicing reverberate between my legs. My thighs part as I wait for him.

“Super…man,” I moan.

Nathan gasps. I feel his hand cup my breast and his thumb slide over my nipple. A moment later the blade moves lower as he snips again.

I look up at him as I bite my lip. “Be careful. Okay?”

He nods and when I see his laser focus I relax as the blade slides a path further down. This snip causes the good kind of throbbing to ache between my legs.

I reach down and grab the edges of the fabric and pull it further apart. “Again,” I whisper.

The sound of the scissor’s blades meeting is music to my ears. My hips are suddenly unbound and I slide my fingers between my legs and back up my belly reveling in the feeling of being exposed for him.

There’s fire in his eyes as he watches me touch myself. His hand follows the path mine just traveled but settles between my legs as he strokes me slowly. My heart is pounding as his touch becomes tight circles just where I need it most. He has me so worked up I can barely see straight.

“Better?” he asks.

“So much,” I groan. I push my hands over the tops of my thighs. “Just here and we can do the rest.”

He nods, takes the scissors and carefully snips as if I’m the most precious package he’s ever had to unwrap. The thigh he’s just freed falls further open. He anxiously focuses on the other. “Last cut,” he whispers.

In our silence the sound of the fabric parting is amplified. I feel his lips against my skin right where the scissors had been. He scrambles to his feet and pulls hard on the fabric as it slides away from underneath my ass. By the time he gets to my knees it’s quick work until he’s yanked the entire suit off.

Our eyes meet in a frantic moment. Every bit of restraint has been pulled away from me and I feel reborn. I think I’d go through the spandex ordeal all over again just to repeat this feeling. Well, not really but it
is
pretty awesome.

Nathan strokes me, his fingers across my breasts and down my belly, over my hips and between my legs. “Your body is so beautiful, Brooke. You don’t need to wear that stuff, okay?”

“Okay,” I whisper as I study the genuine look of admiration in his eyes. This man loves me so much, every curve and dimple. I reach out for him needing to feel his weight on me.

He pushes inside me slowly, panting with restraint. He looks like he wasn’t sure we’d ever get to this point and he wants to enjoy every moment of it. I think he burned off all the booze with his heroic effort to get me naked. His gaze is alert and steadfast as he completely fills me again and again.

My cries as he thrusts are no longer for pain, but pleasure at how amazing he makes me feel. He sweeps me up in his arms as he makes love to me, kissing me deeply and touching me in all the places he knows so well. I marvel at his skills to undo me as we soar to the moon and beyond.

The next morning
I bring him breakfast in bed and it takes two extra-large mugs of coffee before we’re ready to go face the rest of the house. Luckily in the light of day it’s not as bad as we feared. Most of the spilled booze is in the Batcave, which will only require a hose-down after the cave walls come down. Other than that and vacuuming up remnants of The Thing, it will be pretty quick to finish cleaning up.

“Do we really have to take the walls down?” He asks, forlorn as he runs his hands over the paper.

I arch a brow and don’t even answer.

“Please, Brooke.”

I shake my head firmly. “We have to access the storage cabinets. It’s got to go down. But I’ll tell you what. If you can figure out a way to take it down and roll it up, we can use it again next year.”

A huge grin spreads across his face. “Next year? Does this mean…?”

“Yes, I do believe a tradition has been established. We’re Superhero Halloween central, and with all the time to plan, I’ll be in prime spandex shape by next year.”

He grabs me and twirls me around in his arms. “You’re the best!”

When he sets me down he strokes my cheek as he gazes deep in my eyes. “It was pretty awesome wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, the party was great but the way the evening ended was especially epic. It was so erotic how you set me free last night—and it wasn’t just with the scissors, Nathan.”

He sets his hands on my sides and with a look of longing, slowly slides them down over my bondage-free, curvy hips. When he gets to my thighs he slips his hands under my skirt and slides them back up my bare skin, ending with his hands holding my ass. “Do you feel how perfect you are when I touch you? Do you know that when I see you all naked and gorgeous in our bed I only crave you more?”

“I think I’d forgotten, but believe me, I’ll remember now.”

“Do that, sweetheart. You made me feel incredible last night. I hope I did the same for you.”

“You sure did.”

He lets out a long sigh. “It was out of this world, wasn’t it? Damn, at one point it felt like we were flying.”

I gaze at him thinking about where we were long ago when he started showing up in my office at Sketch Republic with hand-drawn coffee cups—and where we are now. This man, with his gentle soul and fierce love, is my everything.

I take his hand. “You know you may have felt like Clark Kent when I first met you, Nathan, but you’re all Superman now.”

The End

About the Author, Ruth Clampett:

I grew up in a cartoon world with a father who was an animation director and my mother, a cartoon producer. That upbringing inspired me to write about animators and share with the world why I love them so much. I’m also a fine art publisher by day and obsessed writer late at night, all while being a mother to a snarky teenager who loves comics and cartoons too.

While visiting my blog
www.RuthClampettWrites.com
also check out
Mr. 365
, a love story about Sophia, a reality television producer, and Will, an irresistible man who goes a little overboard with Christmas decorating.

You’ll also find information about my upcoming release that I’m wildly excited about, book one of the trilogy,
Work of Art.

Author’s Note: Ruth Clampett

I hope you’ve had as much fun reading
Spandex is for Superheroes
as I had writing it (which was a lot!). If you’re inspired now to learn more about Nathan and Brooke’s auspicious beginnings I encourage you to check out their story:
Animate Me
. You can find purchase links and an unbelievable cute (and short!) trailer on my blog:
www.RuthClampettWrites.com

You can also connect with me at:

https://www.facebook.com/RuthClampettWrites

https://twitter.com/Ruthywrites

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4115217.Ruth_Clampett

instagram.com/Ruth_Clampett

I’d like to thank the terrific authors on the
Shiver
team who included me in this anthology…and you, the awesome readers who are doing something really good for St. Jude Children’s Hospital with your purchase of this book. Thank you.

Halloween. A bet. One spooky magic trick.

“Scary movies have
never really done it for me,” I said with a shrug.

I lay stretched out on the bed in the gigantic hotel suite. Jay and I were spending our honeymoon in a five-star resort in Miami. Having lived in rainy Ireland my entire life, it was a whole other world from what I was used to. I could definitely learn to appreciate all the sunlight. You’d never find yourself suffering from seasonal affective disorder in this part of the world. The sun was everywhere; it infiltrated every nook and cranny.

“Not even
The Ring
?” Jay asked in a curious voice as he lazily traced circles on my arm. “Everybody gets freaked out by
The Ring
, especially the original.”

I shook my head. “Nope. It’s like when it comes to horror films, I have this inability to suspend my disbelief. I just burst out laughing when the scary bits start. Plus, the title of
The Ring
is comical in itself. I feel like the person who came up with it was having their own little private joke at everyone else’s expense.”

Jay gave me a wry but amused look, and shook his head. “One week as my wife, Matilda, and already you’re making ass jokes. I must be a bad influence.” Despite his tone, he seemed pleased by that fact.

I grinned. Every chance he got these days, he was reminding me we were now married. Our wedding was a small affair; it took place in Las Vegas (which to me was glamorous with a capital “G”), and I got to wear a swanktastic dress. In comparison to the women on that
Bridezilla
show, I was particularly easy to please.

“Well, you’ve hardly let me put mine away since we got to this ritzy place. I’ve almost forgotten there’s such a thing as clothing.”

He feigned a confused look and put on a haughty voice. “Clothing? What is this sorcery of which you speak?”

I giggled, because my husband looked like the ultimate cool dude when you saw him on the street, but behind the bad boy façade lay a bit of an oddball.

His hand slid from my neck and down the center of my chest to rest on my belly. I could tell from the heated stare he was giving me that he was getting turned on, and we’d just had sex a half hour ago. This was verging on the ridiculous. I knew we were on our honeymoon and everything, but I
did
want to leave the hotel room and take a look around at least once. We were flying back to Vegas tomorrow. Since Jay had a full run of shows booked and our wedding was something of a spontaneous affair, we only had a three-day window in which to honeymoon.

Before my next thought could enter my head, Jay was parting my legs and climbing between them. For a moment I was mesmerized by the way his muscles moved and flexed as he held himself above me, the way his tattoos came to life as though dancing on his skin.

“Jay,” I half sighed, half whimpered, and leveled my hands on his shoulders. “We’re not having sex again. I’m going to be walking funny as it is.”

He cocked a sardonic eyebrow and tilted his head. “I don’t mind you walking funny, Watson. Besides, we’re not leaving this bed for the rest of the day, so it’s a nonissue.”

He started to push inside me, and I couldn’t help the moan that came out. Still, I clenched my thighs around his waist to hinder any further movement. He bit his lip and groaned. “Man, you’ve got strong thighs. Must be all that cycling. My wife is sexy as
fuck
.”

I shivered at him mentioning the words “wife” and “fuck” in the same sentence in that husky Boston accent of his. But I stayed firm; he wasn’t getting around me on this.

“I’m being serious, Jay. I think we should take a breather. And anyway, I’m starving.”

Bringing his mouth to my neck, he licked a long line from my throat to my jaw, and my pulse ratcheted up a notch. “Hmm, me too.”

My momentary distraction caused me to loosen my thighs, and his hips thrust forward, filling me up in one smooth motion.

“Ah! Jay, stop,” I gasped, my protest weak, my fingers digging into his shoulders.

His deep, satisfied chuckle did all sorts of wonderful butterfly-like things to my stomach. He slowly withdrew and flopped over onto his pillow, his arms thrown up above his head. Then he reached for the phone and quickly dialed room service, ordering enough food to feed a small country.

“What about
The Exorcist
?” he asked once he’d hung up, returning to our earlier topic of conversation.

“Hilarious, especially when the girl’s head starts to twist around.”

Jay’s mouth formed a flat line as he studied me, perplexed, and I could tell he was thinking real hard. “I bet I could scare you,” he murmured low, his voice giving me momentary shivers.

I rubbed absently at the gooseflesh on my arms. The thing about Jay was that even though he was laid bare to me and all his secrets revealed, there was always a hint of mystery beneath the surface, always the idea that he could be thinking of something far beyond the realms of my paltry imagination. His mind was a kaleidoscope of trickery, and I was still learning how to navigate the terrain.