Smut in the City (Absolute Erotica) Read Online Free PDF Page B

hands though we were fifty yards apart. The first breeze of that sweltering day rose and washed down into the arena like a cooling tide. Twenty thousand voices moaned audible sighs of relief. One voice raised a moan of agony. Mine. That blessed, cursed breeze had blown out the candles!
    The rest of the evening was agony. Samantha did not light her candles again, nor did she raise her binoculars to look in my direction. I looked toward her almost to the total exclusion of Carmen. While the stage was alight I could only see a vague ghost of her yellow dress through the darkness. During the inter-act breaks I drank her in like she was cold water to my parched throat, but she never looked at me.
    When the show was over Darlene and I crushed and elbowed our way down and out of the arena. I tried to find Samantha in the mob, but it was impossible. She was gone forever, and that broke my heart.
    Later, when I tried to sleep I found it impossible so I went out to roam the streets. In the wee hours of the morning I consoled myself with the thought that, though Samantha was gone, I would always have the memory of Verona.

Lights Out
    By M.A. Stacie
    Working so late always pissed Caitlin off. It meant eerily dark streets, a cold, empty carriage on the Tube and a bowl of cereal for dinner before climbing into bed. It also meant another night with little sleep before the working day started all over again.
    Life had to be more exciting than this.
    There wasn’t even the prospect of a wild weekend - she would be in the office. Her current workload had tripled since transferring to a new law firm. They had scooped a rather famous client and his high profile divorce. Not only was Caitlin responsible for most of the admin on that particular case, but she also had her new client list to deal with too. Add to that the pressure of a meeting with one of the partners tomorrow and she was ready to scream. She hadn’t met either of them yet and was petrified as to why they wanted to see her now.
    Sometimes she wondered why she’d chosen this career to begin with. It was nothing like it was portrayed on TV. There were no elegant parties, no amazingly handsome lawyers, and the only naughty fumbles were when she spilled milk that belonged to someone else over the staff kitchen.
    It was all rather boring.
    Tapping her pin number into the cash machine, Caitlin sighed heavily and waited. As her money was dispensed the first drop of rain fell. It slid down the black hair of her fringe, landing with a plop on her ten pound note.
    “Great. Just fucking great,” she muttered to herself, stuffing the cash into her purse.
    She hurried, the clicking of her heels echoing around the deserted street. It was too early for clubbers to be out, too late for commuters. She was getting used to this kind of isolation, though she did pass the odd person as she made her way to Knightsbridge Tube station.
    The rain seeped through her thin, tan mac, wetting her shirt and causing her to shudder. The wind that blew only made her colder, and by the time she descended the steps to the platform she was cursing.
    Caitlin rolled her eyes when she saw a couple of teenagers kissing. She could only hope they’d choose a different carriage, because she was in no mood to sit and watch them devour one another. It was difficult to admit, but jealousy was at the root of her revulsion. Unable to remember the last time her lips had met anything other than her lipstick was embarrassing for a woman of twenty-eight.
    Flopping with a groan onto the closest bench, Caitlin tried not to think of the hot bloke in the lift this morning. She hadn’t seen him around the building before, but then Loft and Carson weren’t the only business within it. Each floor had a different company, pretty much. However, she did tend to see the same familiar faces. His would be one she’d certainly remember.
    Not normally one to be attracted to men in glasses, her skin had tingled when he’d brushed against