Your Darkest Desires (Four Complete Short Erotic Stories Of Different Flavors) Read Online Free PDF Page A

enough wine in the world to pull me out of my funk.
     
    Emilio had outdone himself with the party decorations. Tiny trellis lights draped the walls and hung down from the ceiling in delicate arches. The usual plain white tablecloths had been removed for the evening, putting the rustic redwood tables on display. Silverware gleamed under the warm glow of the lamps and the air was filled with a heavenly scent that made my stomach rumble.
     
    My assistant, Lindy, had pinned a giant cloth banner above the rapidly emptying buffet table; I’d pretended to hate the colorful, flowery script reading ‘Welcome to the Big Leagues, April!’ but it secretly made me love her even more. My friends, my colleagues, a few of my old clients, and more than a few strangers milled around me, laughing and clinking glasses together, generally looking as though they were having an excellent night – and considering I was footing the bill, that wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
     
    I was still not interested enough to get off my bar stool and join the rest of the fun-loving folk.
     
    Sighing, I picked up my glass by the stem and idly watched the wine swill around. I knew I should’ve been happier, at least on the surface. I had my dream job in family law – and since I was well on the way to making partner, I really had nothing to complain about – and I lived in Chicago, my all-time favorite city. My friends didn’t begrudge me my career aspirations and what little family I had loved me. I had my own apartment and a closet full of shoes that most women would kill to own.
     
    So what if I hadn’t had a single meaningful relationship high school? And so what if all the men I’d met in the last seven years were either overambitious tools or coma-inducing wimps? Was I really going to let my seemingly unending singledom ruin my own birthday party?
     
    I stared down the now-empty glass of wine, and I couldn’t help but sigh again; clearly, that was exactly what I was going to do.
     
    Before I could get too maudlin about the lack of my affairs with another glass – or ten – of really good wine, a strong hand cuffed the back of my neck, and I jumped, swearing a blue streak as I whipped around to see who it was. My gaze landed on familiar features, and I cut myself off with a grin.
     
    “Some of those were new, I think,” my best and oldest friend remarked, her pale blue eyes twinkling with good humor. “Good to see those lawyers you work with are good for something, Junebug.”
     
    “My name is April, you moron, not June,” I retorted, the words falling from my lips almost out of habit. Still grinning, I threw my arms around her neck, feeling some of the tension drain out of my spine as I caught a whiff of her coconut-scented hair; she’d been using the same shampoo since we were uncontrollable ten-year-olds playing in her parents’ yard, and it had never failed to comfort me. “Dee, I’m so happy you’re here!”
     
    “I had no idea,” she snorted, but her hug was as unforgiving as mine was. She swayed us both from side to side before letting me go, a wide smile curving her lips. “Happy thirtieth, you loon. Is this an open bar?”
     
    “Do you even have to ask?” I shot her an arch look, and Dina had the grace to look slightly abashed.
     
    “Sorry,” she said absently, flagging down the bartender. “You work around health nuts long enough, and you forget that your evil twin can drink you under the table.”
     
    Dina was a physical therapist, and in my frequently-voiced opinion, she was as batty as the rest of her colleagues; I’d lost count of the number of conversations that I’d tuned out of over the years, because they’d insisted I wasn’t treating my body the right way. Of course, her just-as-common complaint was that lawyers were soulless vampires who lived to drain their victims’ bank accounts, and attorneys in family law – like me – were the worst of the lot.
     
    Normally, that would have