I Wanna Tell You A Story: Part 1 of 2

The convention center looked like a completely different place on the evening of the third and final day of ErotiCon 2004.  The runway had been disassembled, the stage set with a podium and a series of chairs behind it.  The convention hall was decorated with red and black draperies, banners heralding the various convention sponsors, and even a few of the book cover posters of Kimberly Ransom’s bestselling novels (supplied by Heart’s Desire Press, of course).  The floor of the hall was now packed with tables for the fundraising gala set to cap the convention.  White tablecloths and elaborate centerpieces gave the room an elegant air.

It was a formal event.  Each of the guests, except for convention “anchors” (like Kimberly and HDP, or Bob Thorne and his famous naughty chocolate company) was a sponsor for the fundraiser.  The whole event was organized by United Charities of Toronto, a consolidated group representing a host of worthy causes.  These included local schools, homeless shelters, Pediatric AIDS charities, domestic abuse prevention centers, and several others to whom Kimberly had herself donated in the past.

Getting United Charities together with ErotiCon had been Bryon Fiore’s doing.  He was an extremely skilled event coordinator and had a knack for raising money and securing donors.  As Kimberly entered the hall, she spotted Bryon mingling with the sponsors in their black-tie finery, shaking hands and laughing politely at what were probably lame jokes.  He looked so handsome in his tuxedo, a red handkerchief peeking out from his jacket pocket.  She saw him and wanted him right there, right then; he was so powerful, so masculine, so incredibly good looking, that she felt her face go hot with desire.

“I’d better calm down,” she told herself, “or I’ll never make it through the night.


Bryon glad-handed his way across the crowd, smiling and keeping happy the area’s rich, famous, and charitably inclined.  He didn’t mind this part of his job, though it always felt very political.  Still, it went with the territory.

It was then that he caught sight of Kimberly.  God, she was beautiful!  She wore a black evening dress that fit her shapely body like a second skin, her shoulders and back bare, her breasts prominent in the low-cut garment.  The dress was slit up either side, revealing her supple legs.  She wore a gauzy black wrap off her shoulders, tasteful diamond earrings, and a glittering, heart-shaped diamond pendant around her smooth neck.  Her lustrous black hair was pulled up and back, secured with a diamond clip that sparkled as she turned her head.

Their eyes met.

“I love you,” she mouthed to him from across the room.  He smiled but could not respond, trapped as he was in a knot of guests.  He would not be able to sit with her, either; his table was adjacent to the stage, while hers was a few spots away towards the main part of the floor.  The seating was prearranged by Bryon himself for ease of presentations during the awards portion of the gala.

If only I’d known just who Kimberly Ransom would turn out to be, he thought wistfully.  To have met someone with whom he could fall in love in only days amazed him.

There was a small army of reporters present, their cameras flashing, their microrecorders capturing every comment.  A couple of television news crews were circulating through the hall, too, gathering footage for the evening news.  ErotiCon and the gala were a great feature piece for the media — spicy and sexy enough for good ratings (the Fashion Fantasy models got plenty of coverage when they finally showed up after a mishap at the border), but with the feel-good human interest angle of the charity event and awards.

Bryon’s sister, Andrea, looking love in a cream-colored gown, took the podium and asked everyone to take their seats.  Bryon seated himself among a group of strangers (generous strangers, at that).  He was prepared for a relatively dull evening of awards, many of them certificates and plaques of appreciation from ErotiCon or the community at large.  He had a presentation of his own to make later, but he forced himself not to think about it.

Andrea, whose job it was to call the successive presenters, led the crowd through award after award.  Cameras flashed and all assembled applauded politely, their clapping punctuating each presentation.

Bryon heard almost none of it.  He couldn’t help himself; he kept staring at Kimberly.  Her green eyes flashed as she returned his gaze.  He could see the desire and the love in the way she looked at him.  He licked his lips and felt his heart hammer in his chest.  She was so beautiful…


I want you, Bryon, Kimberly thought to him.  It was a game she’d played as a child, thinking to a friend or to her mother and father, wondering if they could somehow receive her thoughts.  Make love to me, Bryon.  She stared deep into his dark eyes, lost in the depths of them.  His handsome face filler her vision; she could see nothing else, hear nothing but the sound of her own breathing coming more quickly as she longed for him.

Kimberly stared down at the table and thought of Bryon’s mouth on her, the way he’d surprised her at her book signing.  She’d barely gotten through that without screaming in delight, but somehow no one had known what was happening under the table as she signed books and photos.  When he’d pleasured her not once, but twice, his te3nder ministrations driving her mad as his tongue explored her, he’d disappeared as quietly as he’d come.

She made him pay for it that night in her room.  She’d tortured him with her own sensuous mouth, sliding her tongue over every centimeter of him, then running her lips over his stomach and inside his thighs as he strained, hard and wanting her, for release.  She’d done that to him again and again until he finally exploded with her lips on him, sighing her name in exhausted bliss.

If only they were alone right now.  She’d do it to him again, and again, until he couldn’t help but collapse.  They would hold each other close, feeling the warmth of one another’s bodies.  She would run her tongue across his lips, kiss his ears, kiss his neck… he would respond and take her again, filling her with his passion and pressing her body to his.  She couldn’t wait to belong to him again, to have him with her and inside her…

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