“Ophelia the Second” is Out in Best Women’s Erotica!

Posted on January 6, 2016January 18, 2016 by Jade A. Waters

New year, new sexy…and today I’m delighted to share that Best Women’s Erotica of the Year, Volume 1 is out! Woo hoo!

To celebrate, I have some news for you.

First, just look at that sexy cover. *Swoon!*

Then, our wonderful editor Rachel Kramer Bussel has been hosting some behind-the-scenes Q&A’s about our stories in the anthology. My story, “Ophelia the Second,” is a sweet little erotic romance set in the theatre world—specifically, the Hamlet backstage theatre world—and since I have my own past theatre experiences, I thought I’d put them to use for some inspiration. I hope you’ll head over to the book’s Tumblr page to find out more about what sparked this story.

I’m also thrilled to tell you that we’ll be having a live free reading of a few stories in Best Women’s Erotica of the Year, Volume 1 in San Francisco on Tuesday, January 19th. It will be in the Antique Vibrator Museum in the Good Vibrations on Polk Street—which, I have to tell you, is a fabulous space for a reading! I do hope you’ll join us, since I’ll be reading alongside Rose Caraway, Amy Butcher, Dorothy Freed, and Rachel Kramer Bussel herself! Be sure to find out more about this event right here.

And finally, what more to whet your appetite for this book than an excerpt?

Here’s a taste of “Ophelia the Second”:

“We always end up on a couch together, have you noticed?”

I laughed, trying to ignore the delicious smell of his post-show sweat, and the way the couch dipped under his sturdy, muscular body, almost pulling me into his side. He’d changed after curtain into jeans and a button-up shirt with the fanciest of shoes, and he looked even more impressive in his modern garb than he did in his lace-up leather doublet and boots.

“Guess so,” I said.

I sipped the bourbon. It was hot going down, warming me more than I already was sitting in Philip’s apartment with him staring at me with those heavy Hamlet eyes. I attempted to ignore the fight of my heart. I was usually so strong at resisting these terribly silly impulses around him, but it was impossible not to want him, not to imagine Hamlet speaking to me, or Philip taking my hand, pining for my love like his character did later on for Ophelia.

I suddenly felt like her—a naïve girl caught in the throes of some wild vision. It wasn’t madness, though it felt like it as he surveyed me.

“Good show tonight, huh?” I asked, needing yet again to get out of my head.

“Yeah. Tammy was on fire.”

I propped my elbow on the back of the couch and frowned. He knew I didn’t want to hear about Tammy or her wonderful efforts playing Ophelia—I’d confessed it over brews a month ago when he took me out to celebrate a five-star review from one of the most critical journalists in the business. For some reason, Philip had been more surprised at the review than my frustrated comments with Tammy’s rude backstage behavior.

“But it makes sense—whenever she’s a maniac off stage, she’s prepped for the role.”

I snickered, a loose spiral of my hair falling in my face. Philip caught it in his fingers and brushed it back, and I stared at him, surprised.

“We should have been on stage together,” he murmured.

I shrugged.

“Robert’s going to come around, Nat. Hopefully with the next show. You’ve got the talent.”

“You’re sweet,” I said. I took another swallow of my drink and placed the glass on his coffee table. Philip caught my hand.

“I saw you in the wings tonight.”

I froze. I’d been subtle, and he’d been so into his role I couldn’t imagine how he’d seen me.

“You know I see you there, right? Mouthing the lines, both mine and Ophelia’s.”

He clasped my hand in his and a fire sparked deep in my belly. Had the bourbon gone to his head?

Had it gone to mine?

“I’m convinced my best moments on stage are with you watching.”

“That’s silly,” I said, but Philip nodded enthusiastically.

“You should have been Ophelia. You’re perfect for the part. Your hair, your face. Everything about you, Nat—so charming and lovely.”

I trembled in his grasp. Like Ophelia, I had to be going mad. Philip brushed back my curls, lifting the hair on the nape of my neck.

“Let’s run lines for you.”

“Why? Tammy is Ophelia, and she’s never going to miss a performance. Remember?”

“Tammy is a terrible Ophelia. And one night, she will.” He tapped my nose. “Come on. Let’s practice.”

“I need a script.”

“No you don’t,” he said. He shoved back the table and crawled to his knees, ushering his husky off to his bed along the wall.

And then he started running lines, beginning with Act III, Scene 1, right when Ophelia meets Hamlet. He said his first line seriously, as if we were actually on stage, and I shook my head at him.

“You’re crazy.”

Philip frowned. “I’m trying to prove a point. You’re an actress, let’s go. Play along.”

I’d been on the stage many times. I’d graduated with a theatre degree, after all, but my parts at Esquire had been minimal with Tammy being the star she was. Sometimes, her rants backstage and constant insults made it easy to forget that I was once a big part of productions, too.

“Well?” Philip nudged my leg and took my hand again, and I tried to ignore the peal of my heart.

“Fine,” I said.

We ran through this scene, Philip’s hand clasped around my shaking fingers the entire time. He was theatrical and gorgeous, his brow furrowing and his nostrils flaring at all the appropriate moments. When he peered into my face, I witnessed the same brooding depth he cast over the audience each night, except this time, it was directed at me.

This time, he was Hamlet—and I was Ophelia.

It was easy to fall into the part. I knew the lines, and he was brilliant, drawing emotion and depth into my voice that I could never do when I practiced on my own in my apartment. Not without someone acting against me, getting as into the role as he did. He was magnificent. When we finished the scene, he stroked his fingertips across my palm with an encouraging nod. Then his lips turned up to form the incredibly charming grin the audience never got to see.

“Lady, shall I lie in your lap?”

I giggled. “Okay, I get it. Great scene. We can stop, though, I know the lines.”

“See,” he said. “You are the perfect Ophelia.”

I rolled my eyes and Philip leaned closer, the movement catching my breath in my throat. Both of us were quiet as he crouched on the carpet. For some reason, the way he’d touched my cheek at his front door crossed my mind. Then the way he’d grinned at me at intermission, and all the times we’d hung out backstage when he’d told me he loved talking to me. My pulse raced a little quicker.

Had I missed something in my Ophelia obsession?

Philip curved his hands around my knees, increasing the pace of my heartbeat.

“And what a fair thought to lie between this maid’s legs.”

“That’s not the line,” I whispered. The look on his face was different—not Hamlet. Not Philip. It was sweet and smitten, like the one I’d seen him wear as Romeo last year. I swallowed the lump in my throat as he inched his mouth closer to mine.

“You’re right. It’s not.”

Intrigued?

Please be sure to check out the book’s Tumblr page and order your copy now on Amazon. Thanks for checking out the inspiration for “Ophelia the Second,” and I hope to see you at the reading!

XX,
Jade

“Missing You” is Part of Tamsin’s Superotica Advent Calendar!

Posted on December 9, 2015December 8, 2015 by Jade A. Waters

It’s a very special time of year—and for those of you not in the know, Tamsin Flowers hosts the hottest advent calendar in town. Each day until Christmas, she features stories from a bevy of fabulous authors that will definitely get your pulse racing. This year she kicked off with part one of a beautiful piece of her own called “Fallen,” and she’s featured so many other delicious stories too, from the likes of Lana Fox, Rachel Kramer Bussel, Katya Harris, and many more.

Today, Tamsin has kindly asked me over! She’s featuring a short and sweet flash piece of mine called “Missing You,” one I wrote a couple months back with an image of that achy feeling you get when the one you love is just too, too far away. So, with that in mind, I hope you’ll head over to Tamsin’s place to give this new release a read…

Once you do, be sure to keep an eye not only on all the other advent calendar stories, but Tamsin’s site, too. It’s a smokin’ hot destination!

Special thanks to Tamsin for hosting, and to you, readers, for checking out “Missing You“! 🙂

XX,
Jade

Poetry for a Cause!

Posted on November 24, 2015November 24, 2015 by Jade A. Waters

I have always loved writing poetry. It’s been a part of my life since I was young, and in the last few years, I’ve grown so fond of it I knew I needed to launch a secondary site to house all my poetic words. So, when the fabulous poet Ashley Lister put out a call for Coming Together: In Verse—a collection of erotic poetry to benefit Hope for Paws—I knew I simply had to take part.

Coming Together: In Verse is a sexy new anthology out today, filled entirely with erotic poetry and risqué verse—be it sultry, comedic, romantic, or filthy. On top of that, the poets involved are ones who will surely rock your world, and sales proceeds go to support a cause that’s dear to me, too—animal rescue! I’m thrilled to have three brand new poems in this anthology—”Colours,” “Farther,” and “Longing”—and to whet your appetite, I have some special surprises for you, too.

First, I’m revealing “Longing” over on my poetry site—it’s the shorter of my three poems included in Coming Together: In Verse. But then, I’m reading you “Longing,” too…because of course, poetry is meant to be heard. 😉 You can find the audio either on YouTube or on my poetry site.

Once you’re finished with both of these book release treats, I hope you’ll really make me purrrrr…by heading over to Amazon to grab your copy of this gorgeous new anthology. Sexy poetry, good cause—how can you pass it up?

I very much hope you enjoy “Longing,” and thank you for your support!

XX,
Jade

“Will You Be the Lucky One?” – Interviewed on the KMQ’s!

Posted on November 14, 2015November 14, 2015 by Jade A. Waters

Hi everyone!

A couple weeks ago, the wonderful Rose Caraway released her dream project, Libidinous Zombie, out into the world. As I mentioned in my post on the book, this anthology is a tremendous one, both for its roster of talent (editor included!), and for its exploration of the erotic horror convention. I am still so grateful Rose invited me to join the project, and then that she and the awesome Big Daddy were so excited about my contribution, “The Lucky One.”

As if all that wasn’t enough of a thrill ride, Rose invited me to join The Sexy Librarian’s Podcast today. She’s interviewing all the authors in this book, and I’m delighted to have gotten to share more of the backstory for “The Lucky One” in the process. In the interview, Rose asked me a little about my new book deal and karaoke antics, so, if you’d like to find out more, please hop on over and check out the interview right here.

If you haven’t already started listening to The Sexy Librarian Podcast, or Rose’s main podcast, The Kiss Me Quick’s, be sure to check them out! I have no doubt you’ll enjoy every word.

Thank you so much for listening!

XX,
Jade

N.B. You can also catch my last interview with Rose about my contribution to The Sexy Librarian’s Dirty 30 right here, or listen to my stories, “The Doll” and “Soundscapes,” as featured on The Kiss Me Quick’s Podcast. All podcasts are free for your ears! 🙂

“The Swap” Is Part of Dirty Dates — Out Today!

Posted on November 10, 2015November 8, 2015 by Jade A. Waters

For most of my life, I’ve been one for the experience. Be it riding terrifying rollercoasters, practicing aerial acrobatics, going bungee jumping, working Renaissance Faire, or even just having sex in the snow on the side of a ski run, I love finding all sorts of adventures and giving them a whirl. Rose Caraway pretty much nailed it after interviewing me over at the KMQ’s a few months back: I’m the type of gal who loves to try most everything—because it seems to me that if you’ve never tried it, you never really know what you like.

That’s why I’m slightly blushing to tell you about “The Swap,” out now in Rachel Kramer Bussel’s Dirty Dates: Erotic Fantasies for Couples. Today is the book’s official release day—and also Ms. Bussel’s birthday—so to celebrate both, I’m sharing some backstory…and “The Swap” happens to have an adventurous, real life backstory. The piece is an older one the wonderful Ms. Bussel picked for the anthology, and while I can say wholeheartedly that this tale is a work of fiction, it’s also one of the more reality based stories I’ve ever released into the world.

So let’s start with the story itself…“The Swap” is about a young woman named Serena, whose boyfriend Alex almost always plays the dom when they’re together. But for kicks, Serena’s requested that her boyfriend let her try putting him in the submissive role for a change—and once he says yes, she takes her adventure quite seriously. Serena goes all out in preparation for this event, because she wants to fully appreciate not only the part she’s playing, but everything it entails—which for her involves a specific dress, a vibrator, cuffs, eyelet screws, carabiners, a hell of a lot of chain, and a few holes drilled into the walls. And let’s just say, the two of them end up having a very good time with her ingenuity.

All right, so now you’re probably wondering—what’s the real life adventure behind this?

Here’s a hint: a scene involving five of the six items on Serena’s shopping list. 😉

I reiterate, this story is a work of fiction. My experience played out much, much differently than Serena and Alex’s (which is to say it didn’t really get off the ground), and unfortunately, it also didn’t turn out so well (not all people are as open to adventure as me, okay?). Nonetheless, some fifteen or so years later, I still keenly remember the fun in planning it out, including taking measurements of my room and roaming the aisles of the hardware shop for everything I could possibly need. So when I sat down to write “The Swap,” I wanted to twist the events for a couple who thrived on the same philosophy I have: try everything at least once, or you’ll never really know whether you like it.

Turns out, Serena and Alex really liked it.

Okay—time for an excerpt!

From “The Swap”:

“Glad you’re home, honey,” she said.

Alex set his bag on their drop table and gave her a quick look over. She was still in her own work clothes, and he pinched his eyebrows together in confusion. “I half expected you to be in some sort of getup when I got here,” he said.

“Oh, I’m not done.” She walked over to him. As usual, he wrapped his arms around her for a big kiss. And, also as usual, the way he twirled his tongue with hers sent tingles across her arms and made her instantly eager to strip down and comply with his every whim.

But not as usual, Serena squeezed his hip and pulled away.

“Assuming you’re still okay with the plan,” she said, winking, “I would suggest you take off your clothes.”

Alex chuckled. “Here?”

“Yes, here,” she said. She never giggled at Alex’s requests—at least, not since they’d grown more serious about this whole kinky bondage game they loved to play—and she expected the same right back. “My turn. My rules.” She bit her lip, enjoying the harsh tone she used to command him and the way he started the tiniest amount as she did it. “Now,” she snapped.

Alex unbuttoned his shirt. When he tugged it from his chest and dropped his trousers to the floor, Serena nodded in approval. The bulge in his boxer briefs told her he liked the game, so she stepped close enough for her chest to almost touch his and tilted her lips up toward his face.

“If you kiss me, I’ll touch you,” she said. It was one of his famous lines, and she delivered it with the same punch of temptation he did when he had her bound and whimpering beneath him.

Alex kissed her hard, and Serena cupped his dick through his underwear. He groaned against her mouth, then shifted his hips so he could rub more closely against her palm.

“Nope,” she said, yanking her hand away. “That’s not what I said. Now I guess I’ll have to tie you down.”

Alex’s expression told her everything she wanted to know—how curious he was, how aroused he felt, and how surprised he was at the way she’d already flipped their roles around. She rubbed the thick wedge of his cock through the fabric again and he lurched in her hand.

“Jesus, I want you,” he moaned.

“Soon. Here’s what I want you to do, Alex.” She leaned up to his ear, her heart racing as she ordered him around. This was so different, so much fun—never mind exciting, since her panties were already drenched with the images of what she had planned. “You’re going to take off your underwear and close your eyes. I’m going to blindfold you and take you to the bedroom. Are you okay with this so far?”

Alex was good about asking her if she was all right with each stage of their bondage games, and she wanted him just as comfortable. So when he nodded and closed his eyes, she grabbed the blindfold she’d left on the coffee table and returned to find him rock hard. Serena gave a quiet gasp at the sight—Alex naked was always a treat, and here he was: submissive, eyes closed, and ready for her to play with—but she shook it off. She would have her way with him soon enough.

“Good boy,” she said, reaching up to blindfold him. She made sure to accidentally rub her hips against his crotch as she tied the fabric over his face, which sent the heat right between her legs. Serena reminded herself that as much as she wanted to bend over and have him fuck her right here in the living room, she had to carry out her plan. It was her one chance.

She took his wrists. “Follow me.”

“Yes ma’am.” Alex let her guide him around the corner and down the hall, and Serena enjoyed the rush of control. They got all the way to the bedroom where she made him stand in the middle of the carpet, then she wrapped the cuffs around his ankles and wrists, snugging the buckles against his skin.

“How are you?” she asked. She grinned at her boyfriend wearing nothing but cuffs. She’d been like this for him so many times, but this reversal was giving her chills.

“I’m good so far,” he said, shaking his wrists about. He reached out for her but she dodged.

“Alex! Stand still,” she said. When he pouted, she gave his thigh a smack.

“Tease,” he muttered.

“Shh,” she snapped. “Hold still.”

Quickly, she grabbed each of the four carabiners and locked him into place.

***

And…you will find the rest of this adventure tucked neatly into Dirty Dates!

I am so thrilled to be included in another of Rachel Kramer Bussel’s anthologies, and honored to be in great company with a roster of amazing contributors. This is sure to be a delectable anthology full of hot erotic fantasies, so please pick up your copy on Amazon today!

Happy reading—and may your adventures be aplenty! 🙂

XX,
Jade

“The Lucky One” is Part of Libidinous Zombie – Out for Halloween!

Posted on October 31, 2015October 29, 2015 by Jade A. Waters

Happy Halloween! Today, I am thrilled to announce the official release of Libidinous Zombie—a phenomenal new erotic horror anthology edited and narrated by the brilliant Rose Caraway!

For those of you who haven’t caught on to Rose’s incredibly enthusiastic promotion of this book through #LZ and #8authors all over Facebook and Twitter, the project is more than just a concoction of sex and gore. Rose and Big Daddy had a vision with this one—and it’s all about the darkness within each of us. I think Remittance Girl nailed it with her post about the release of Libidinous Zombie, in which she said, “Both erotic and horrific, the libidinous zombie that lives inside all of us is only really addressed at the intersection of horror and eroticism.” That’s the real kernel in this awesome new release, and it’s why Rose has said again and again that this is her special dream project.

And I am honored to be a part of this spectacular, spooky dream!

So, to celebrate release day (and Halloween), today I’m going to tell you about my story, “The Lucky One,” and I’m giving you a snippet of the story itself. I’d also like to encourage you to check out The Sexy Librarian’s Blog-Cast, where Rose has already started interviewing each of the authors included in this anthology. There, you can hear more about them, their writing, and their thoughts on the marriage of erotica and horror! (I’ll post a link to mine when it comes up, soon!)

For now, let’s start with a little back-story. “The Lucky One” ventures into my past…when a long time ago, I wrote a story about a stripper werewolf that was so titillating I realized that what I really longed to write was erotica. See, when Rose sent out her call for this anthology, I knew that story—that freakish, dark carnival ground, and the roguish werewolf I’d once envisioned thriving there—needed to come back to life. Except this time, the tale belonged to someone else, an adventurous young woman named Claudia, who snuck in to a special night show she should never have seen.

Because from that night on, her life would never be the same…

Excerpt from “The Lucky One”:

I swiped at a bead of sweat rolling down my cheek, surprised that what should have been such a ridiculous act was so clearly turning me on. But then, nothing in this show had been what it seemed—it kept swinging from one extreme to another so fast, like that moment when the rollercoaster’s about to drop—a blend of excitement and shit, get me off this ride.

The music’s tempo changed again, and the dancers cruised off the stage, each of them picking an audience member to dance with. The buxom woman headed straight for Rusty. I’d never seen him beam so bright. He shot me a delirious grin once she drew him up from his chair, and as I cheered in encouragement, she led him onto the stage. I couldn’t stop giggling as she laid him down and crawled all over him, sniffing at his neck, his chest, and his crotch like the wolf woman she was supposed to be. The whole audience was hollering and cheering, and clothes actually started coming off—not just with the dancers and their respective partners, but from random people in the audience. It was like the heat in the tent had made everyone crazy, or maybe it was the scent of the mist raining down on us.

I glanced up, curious, but a hand slipped under my chin.

“Hi there,” Sergi said. His warm fingers and husky voice sent a pulse up my spine. I swallowed hard, because this close, I smelled on him what I’d noted earlier, but stronger. It was the scent of man, of sex.

Of desire.

I was fangirling. Hard.

“What’s your name?” he said.

“Claudia,” I whispered. Sergi straddled my knees, and the rollercoaster began again, trapping me between arousal and shock. The most delicious smile crossed his lips as he dragged his fingertips over his hips, then trailed them to the button of his leather pants and snapped them open.

I heard a groan from the stage and looked past Sergi’s pelvis, spotting Rusty fully naked with the woman grinding all over him. Sergi steered my gaze back to him with the grasp he still had on my chin, and then he bent down so his face lined up with mine. “I wouldn’t worry about him, Claudia.” I tried to breathe, and he continued. “You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

He slid his hand into my hair, tugging it slightly, bringing a moan to my lips. When I cocked my head he flashed his smile again, and all I knew right then was him.

I’ve told you, I wish I could explain all this better. The way, out of nowhere, his body made me ache, or how the look in his eyes grabbed ahold of me, yanking something up from inside. Sergi leaned closer, tipping his lips toward mine, and my heart thumped in my chest.

“May I kiss you, Claudia?” he asked.

That voice filled my head, swimming in my thoughts, consuming every logical answer and leaving me with the one I muttered then.

“Yes.”

Sergi ran his fingers down my neck and pressed his mouth to mine. Our kiss was deep and so hot, our lips parting wide as our tongues tangled. I gasped when he slipped his hand down and cupped my breast, but when he lifted me out of my chair I fell into him, feeling the steel of his chest, and the hardness of his cock through his pants. He scooped me into his arms and I didn’t even protest, letting him carry me onto the stage not ten feet from Rusty and the other dancer, where they fucked hard and loud. It was strange to see Rusty like that, but my nipples tightened at the view, at the sounds, before Sergi laid me down and kissed me again. His hands ripped open my shirt. I touched his face as he gazed into my eyes, and tingles shot through my arms and legs.

I wanted him like I’d never wanted anyone in my life.

“This isn’t a strip show,” I murmured.

Sergi slid his hands between my thighs. He strummed me through the fabric, his words hot against my face.

“This isn’t a strip show, no. Much, much better.”

***

Libidinous Zombie features every horror you can imagine merged with sultry, erotic storytelling that is sure to terrify you and turn you on. With tales by Allen Dusk, Remittance Girl, Malin James, Tamsin Flowers, Raziel Moore, Janine Ashbless, Rose Caraway herself, and me, I’ve no doubt you will find yourself looking inside to the deepest, darkest corners of your soul…where pure primal fear meets intense, heart-pounding lust.

Now the question is—are you brave enough to join us?

XX,
Jade

Tantalizing Terrors…to Come

Posted on October 19, 2015October 18, 2015 by Jade A. Waters

Halloween, Halloween…it’s in the air! This is the time of year when everything starts to get a little bit creepy, fun, and wild—and that’s why today, I could no longer resist giving you a tantalizing preview of the delicious, sexy terror to come!

Libidinous Zombie is a project orchestrated by the fabulous Rose Caraway of The Kiss Me Quick’s. She’s a woman who likes her erotica with a twist, and because of that, I can assure you that the stories within will merge horror and erotica into something mighty combustible. I have so much to tell you about my story, “The Lucky One,” once this is out—but for now, I’m just going to leave you with a few teases.

First, the fantastic art for “The Lucky One,” created by the amazing Dayv Caraway:

(Catch the art for all the stories right here!)

Next, check out the incredible lineup of other authors you’ll find included in the pages:

Allen Dusk
Janine Ashbless
Malin James
Raziel Moore
Remittance Girl
Tamsin Flowers
Rose Caraway

Finally, don’t miss this thoughtful post from Remittance Girl about the psychological reality behind the blending of erotica and horror!

This anthology is coming out for Halloween, which is just around the corner…are you ready?

XX,
Jade

How Does it Feel to be Bound, My Love?

Posted on August 11, 2015August 11, 2015 by Jade A. Waters

I have never been all that quiet about the origin of my stories. Many of them are purely fictional, or fantasies I’ve dreamed up, conscious or not—but a few are retellings of true events, actual encounters I’ve twisted to be better, or on occasion, semi-fictionalized redos of things I’ve been lucky enough to enjoy in real life.

Today, I’m delighted to tell you that Bondage Bites is officially out—it’s a new title edited by the amazing Alison Tyler, and published by Cleis Press. To say I am over the moon to be in an Alison Tyler collection is a massive understatement…but to get to say I have three short shorts in this anthology—all connected to my personal life—basically has me giggling. Er, grinning. No, blushing.

Okay, maybe a combination of all three!

So, to celebrate the release of this hot anthology of super short stories, I will give you some dirt—that is, I’ll share a snippet of all three stories, each with a taste of the reality that inspired them.

Here we go!

First, with the tamest personal connection of the three tales:

“The Gate”

A few years ago, I went on vacation to Italy. I traveled throughout the country, but I got particularly caught up during my stay in Tuscany, where I had a rental car to check out everything in the area I could. (This song came out during my stay, and it become my driving theme, if you’re curious.) One night, while dining at this incredible family owned place in Poggibonsi, I spotted a rather magnificent storefront gate in an alleyway that got my gears turning. The waiter commented at one point that I had a nice blush on my face, and—based on the scene running through my head—I can’t say I was all that surprised. So, after finishing dinner and taking a beautiful stroll under the moonlight, I went back to my villa and wrote out a snippet of the entire fantasy I’d envisioned and then sent it to my lover back home.

Once the vacation ended, I decided that wasn’t enough. I needed to turn the whole thing into a full story, which soon became “The Gate”…

When you gestured back at the gate, I understood why you’d brought your backpack to dinner. The flush that spread through me couldn’t be from the wine—not after only two sips—and I wanted to rush to feel the surprise you had in store. Still, I knew the longer we took, the quieter the alley would be.

We took forever, too. No one seemed to mind the leisurely American couple, or the way we didn’t speak, just stared at one another with half-grins while you stroked my hand. When we finished, we wandered around the cobblestone center hand-in-hand. It wasn’t until past one that you led me back to the gate.

“I haven’t seen anyone for almost an hour. Are you ready, Mara?”

I nodded. My role now was to remain still, which is what I did as you removed the cuffs from your bag. I clenched my knees together, feeling a charge clamor up my thighs and straight into my pussy over the thought of being seen, and of what you would do to me once you bound me here.

You grinned under the street lamps as you fastened me to either side of the gate, and once I was secure, your hands roamed around my neck and down my back. Then you kissed me and lifted my skirt, stroking my thighs right there in public. You gripped me, kneaded me, your breath hot on my cheek. You took my gasp as an invitation and slipped your fingertips under my panties, nudging them aside so you could feel how wet I was for you—and moaning when you discovered my short curls soaked through.

I wanted you to touch me deeper, but you liked to string it out. You whispered, “How does it feel to be bound, my love?”

Strangely, I didn’t take a picture of that gate—but I have never forgotten how gorgeous it was, or the way it felt to just sit there drinking wine in the pleasant breeze, dreaming up a scene that I later got to flesh out in a full tale.

Okay, next up:

“Safety Shears”

This one has a bit of a funny back story because, well, in truth…

Bondage accidents happen.

Lucky me, I happened to experience one such accident—which had my doctor and I exchanging some seriously hilarious emails for a solid week after it happened. The good news is that all was okay after a little stretch of time, and safety shears found their way into my closet for the next time. *Cough.*

Now, while I feel it’s important to remind that fiction is not meant to be an instructional guide, I can’t speak highly enough about owning a pair of shears.

And it’s from that recommendation that “Safety Shears” was born:

“I think it’s okay,” she said, clenching a hand, then releasing it. She smiled at him. “You have the safety shears handy, right?”

He nodded, jumping off the bed to show her that he did indeed have them, right there on the nightstand. When he stood upright, the glow from her lamp cast the sexiest of shadows over his abdomen, enhancing the results of all the working out he’d done of late. He was such a pleasure to look at, the most handsome lover Julia had taken in years. And with the eager way he stared at her, he’d proven delightful in more ways than one.

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to give you carpal tunnel. Or anything worse. Can you imagine?” Matthew chuckled and crawled between her thighs again, but now he grew serious, quiet. He admired his work. “Dear God, you’re beautiful like this.”

Julia had only been cuffed before, but something about Matthew made her want to submit to his every whim. He’d spent the last twenty minutes binding her like a man possessed, stopping every so often to caress her face or brush back her hair. Twice he’d slipped a finger inside her, testing her and moaning at how her pussy flinched around him. “Please, Matthew, fuck me,” she’d cried, and he’d hurried back to the business of tying her up. Now he ran his hands over her inner thighs and down to her ankles, fondling the rope that connected them to her wrists. Instead of the traditional hog or frog tie, he’d left her on her back with her legs splayed and her thighs free so he could more easily access her. And he did just that, tracing back from the ties and over her belly, then circling his fingers around her nipples and making her gasp.

“I need you,” she whispered.

Ah, safety shears…

Okay, finally, it’s time for what may be my most favorite (and definitely the most personal):

“In the Morning”

For this story, I opted to try something I’d never done before—I took an old lust letter I’d sent to a lover and converted it right into a story. 🙂 Not to worry, though! No boyfriends were harmed in the making of this story. I warned the recipient, way back then, that I’d probably end up doing this at some point—and he totally got a kick out of the idea. See, when we dated, we were supremely open to sharing fantasies, and if we weren’t speaking them in bed, we were sharing them in emails, via text, or on the phone…. Some of them got acted out, and others didn’t, but suffice it to say that “In the Morning” is a tale fully based off a real email I sent during our very memorable affair:

Somehow, he’d shifted my arms behind my back without me ever stirring. Now he patted my wrists in satisfaction with the knots he’d pinned me in, and I felt an immediate rush of warmth between my thighs.

“I told you what I expected in the morning, darling.”

Without another word, Gabriel crawled off the bed and stepped behind me. He’d bound me so many times before, and every time, I felt this way—this desperate longing, this hunger for his touch. The heat from my pussy seared up through me, and suddenly I wanted nothing more than to feel him, to lose myself in the way we moved together.

“Come to me,” he said.

I squirmed beneath the covers, my arms pinned too closely to my back for me to use them in any useful fashion. I managed to roll to my side and slide off the bed, landing on my knees directly in front of him. Gabriel was naked, his beautiful prick swollen and upright before my face.

“Show me how much you want me, Katharine.”

I grinned. Even bound like this, that would be an easy feat—I always wanted him, each second of every day. I wiggled closer, my balance off with my hands bound, and then I took him in my mouth. I swallowed him, licked him, wanting to devour every inch of him, and dear God, he tasted so delicious on my tongue, so tantalizing when I couldn’t grab onto him or stroke his length. He jumped and jerked between my lips and I moaned, because I still wanted him so much more…

And there you have it! A small sampling of three stories that are pretty damn connected to my real life. Please pick up a copy of Bondage Bites not only to read these stories in their entirety, but to check out all the fabulously hot bondage short-shorts you’ll find within. Alison Tyler is a phenomenal editor, so this collection is, no doubt, going to be a huge hit. You can pick up a copy at Amazon and other retailers today, and I hope you enjoy what you find!

Thank you so much for reading!

XX,
Jade

Best Erotic Romance of the Year – Out Now!

Posted on July 17, 2015July 17, 2015 by Jade A. Waters

Great news—Best Erotic Romance 2015 is officially out today, and I’m tickled to have “Fertile” included in this hot anthology from Cleis Press! This one is edited by Kristina Wright, an amazing author and editor. I’ve been mesmerized by her stories and anthologies for so long, I damn near fell out of my chair when she accepted “Fertile” for this book. Talk about a huge honor!

So, to commemorate release day, I thought I’d share a brief behind-the-scenes and excerpt.

As is usually the case for me, this story came to life with a spontaneous line that popped into my head…at the gym, no less. I was in a dim room at a gym while I worked it on a spin bike. I wasn’t in a class or anything—but suffice it to say I was torturing the crap out of myself (I was a fitness junkie back then), and, standing on those pedals, sweating like a fiend, it happened.

Wham!

“The bitch is in heat.”

As usual, I had no idea where this line came from. But as I pumped it on that bike for the remaining 20 minutes—because I couldn’t very well stop my workout to write this stuff down—I sorted out a loose sketch of a wife very much desperate to have a second child with her affectionate, loving, and extraordinarily patient husband.

And from that, “Fertile” was born!

To be clear, the line The bitch is in heat does appear in the story, but you’ll have to read it to find it where. 😉 For now, though…

Read an excerpt of “Fertile”:

“I’m sorry for teasing you, but you can’t pressure me like that. You can’t treat me like I’m your sperm donor, babe. It’s the most cliché bullshit in the world.”

“I don’t….” She really didn’t, but the pained look on his face made her cringe. His hands, meanwhile, were making it impossible to have this conversation. Her hormones had become a raging inferno that made nothing but his touch important at this moment.

“You do.” Jerry crept his fingers further, straight toward her aching entrance. Tiny tendrils of heat burned down her thighs as he snuck one finger inside and barely tickled her with the end of it.

“Jerry,” she whispered. She wanted his whole finger, his whole hand, and then, the hard bulge she knew he’d formed in his pants. He’d always been ready to go at a moment’s notice, making his extended delay to give in so much more frustrating.

Instead of answering, Jerry pressed his mouth over her, on top of his splayed fingers. His breath came through the fabric like a gust of hot wind, sending goose bumps over her chest. He paused, his mouth so dangerously close she was ready to tear off her own panties if he didn’t soon.

Jerry pulled back. “I know I’ve been bugging you for months, partly because you get so flustered, but also because you’ve badgered me.”

“Because—”

He cupped his mouth over her and she moaned.

“I know why. And I did want what you want. I do want it, but dammit, Sheila, treat me like your husband.” He grabbed the top of her panties and shook his head. “Like you want me because I’m a man, not a machine.” He inched the elastic waistband down over her hips and Sheila pressed her hands to her face. Embarrassment burned in her cheeks and down through to her core, and when he just kept staring at her, she trembled. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

She wanted to believe she couldn’t understand much of anything with her sex exposed to the cold air of the room, but watching Jerry—this beautiful man, the father to their child, the one who had worked so hard so she could stay at home with Daniela like she’d always wanted—she could see why he’d teased, and why he’d pulled away for so long.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“I am, too.” Jerry nodded, then let her panties drop to the floor.

Sheila sucked in a breath and lay still. The hormones pummeling her nerves demanded she pay attention, but she wasn’t about to ignore Jerry’s frustration. Not with his eyebrows knitted together and his lip caught between his teeth as he pondered his next move.

“Jerry?”

He didn’t say anything, then reached up to grasp her hips. He laid his mouth over her, this time covering her completely.

“Oh god.”

Jerry flicked his tongue over her clit. “Do you want more?” he asked.

Sheila forced her head up. “Do you have to ask?”

He slicked his finger from her swollen nub to the base of her slit. “Tell me, then.” When he drew his finger over her, his expression softened. “I love the way you look right now, but I need to know you want it.”

“Yes, yes, I want it,” Sheila said. “I do.”

I hope you enjoyed it and thank you for reading!

This edition of Kristina Wright’s Best Erotic Romance 2015 is sure to be a sexy one—and you can pick up your copy right here!

XX,
Jade

By the Sea, Part 1

Posted on July 14, 2015December 30, 2016 by Jade A. Waters

She swears she knew him then, back when life was full of dreams and promises, and cotton candy blossoms so big they smeared on her nose when she bit into them. Back when unicorns were real, and pain was not a word that exhausted her vocabulary in its bitter streak across her world, molding a quiet wake in the thin, wired lines that sprouted from the corners of her eyes.

But she didn’t.

It’s just that, in the touch of his hand now, in the way he closed it around hers and pulled her into the swell of his chest as he slid his fingers into her hair, it was too easy to forget she hadn’t. That Josh hadn’t always been there, watching, encouraging, and loving her. He’d heard it all, seen the scars that ran along her side, knew in the occasional manner she jumped when he walked too swiftly and surprised her how fiercely that life had embedded itself inside her. It had branded her even through the rosy smile on her lips, and the chime of laughter she regularly exhaled with him. It was for this she loved him, treasured how he drew her nearer, somehow pulling her close enough it felt like they could become one by the sea that swept onto the sandy shore, swirling around and between their bare toes as if promising to take them away with the current, into the wide open space of their love.

“Can I kiss you, Anya?” he asked.

Always, this question. Despite her gaze into his eyes, surrendering everything to him because it was so easy, so right. Josh took her chin in his fingers as she nodded fast, leaning up on her toes to try and fall further into him when their mouths met. His tongue and hers weaved like coils of algae drifting to and fro, in, between, around, lazily surrounded by the kiss of the tide. As the wind gusted around them, rustling the fabric of her dress, seizing her hair and whipping it around their faces, it was hard not to feel herself disappearing with him, fading into the night, into the sea.

“We’ve only an hour,” she whispered. But his lips covered her sigh, smothered the truth that kept breaking them apart. She was hers, he was his, and yet they weren’t. Still, this, too, was easy to forget as he kissed her with so much love. As the two of them dropped to their knees, oblivious to the grit of the sand digging into their skin, to the wind warning them beneath the moon that lit them up on the shore.

Josh did not stop kissing her as he pushed her back, his hands slipping up her skirt, trailing along the smooth lines of her legs and caressing the fleshy rounds of her thighs. His tongue stayed heated against hers as he tucked fingertips under the sides of the flimsy underwear she wouldn’t wear at home but had donned just for him. His breath came sweet on her cheek as he pulled the fabric down, pausing as she swayed her hips for him to work it over her bottom, then down past her knees. He discarded it beside their bodies on the shore, a crumpled ball of lace that might, in this wind, be blown away, carrying the secret that bound them as it tumbled to the water and drifted out to sea.

“I’ve missed you,” Josh said, and he kissed her once, hands slipping back up her thighs, pushing up her skirt, revealing Anya to the night sky. She loved his stare, torn between two views—that of her face, and the wetness waiting for him between her thighs. It was when he looked there that he slid two fingers against her, tracing the silky cleft only partially shown in the moonlight, but so clear to him as he eased them inside. This is when she moaned, craning her neck, her lips falling apart in more whimpers as his fingers sank so far within her. Josh cupped her knee with his other hand, pushing it aside, bidding the split of her thighs be visible to him, the truth of how they loved divulged once more. Behind him, the water swelled and rolled, but she was lost in the sounds that fell from her throat, in the surge of love for him. For this man who understood and knew her, who made her feel like the rest was nothing but a faded memory she didn’t need to revisit, despite the relentless hold it still had on her.

Josh slipped another finger inside, gliding all of them in, out, kissing her knee, staring into her face. When she reached for his shoulders, begging him to sweep into her, he wrestled down his pants to settle between her thighs. Anya weaved her fingertips around the side of his neck, urging him, and Josh rested against the heat he’d stirred up in her, asking again in his whisper if he could take her in the way they both loved.

“Yes,” she gasped, the sound so crisp in that night with the sudden thrust of him into her, in the movements of him inside her, and her movements with him. Anya dug her feet into the sand and lifted her hips to meet him, arching against his deep thrusts as she caressed his shoulders and he sighed her name. He heaved above her and she swayed with him, needing him in her, with her, part of her, for as long as she would be allowed. As his motions grew faster he brought his lips back to hers, kissing her as though she was his princess and he was her prince, as though they truly were familiar then, when those dreams existed. Josh curled one hand around her arm, and the other slid beneath her dress, clutching at the skin of her side and mindlessly tracing the scars that weaved down to her hip, where he gripped her tight to drive faster, deeper inside. And in all this Anya never hesitated, never stopped arching up to meet him, gasping for the seal of her cunt around him, for the pulse of her lust shaking her, filling her, making her desperate for him like she was and believed she forever would be.

“Anya…” he said, the name a bite on her cheek before his breath caught, a moan that echoed hers beneath him. Together they thrust, caving, coming, his love meeting hers as she shuddered around him, tucking her nails into the sides of his body as the feeling washed through her and lapped at her skin like the moist, salty air. The waves rolled on behind them, a whisper to the whish of their breaths, to the soft kisses they played on one another’s mouths.

In time, their hearts settled. Their breaths fell still. Josh swept his fingers back and forth over the skin of her thigh as he kept his forehead against hers and gazed into her eyes. They would lie like this as long as they could, treasuring each quiet minute until it was time for her to stand and leave him there. The perfect fairy tale of their love would be held once more, a story in their hearts as strong as the tide, as bright as their very own moon, and deep as the ocean they would drown in, together, if they could.

“By the Sea” is the first installment of a three-part series. Click here to read part two, “Driftwood.”