Below is a snippet from my futuristic story, Sugar and Spice. This novella is part of the Changeling Press Multi-author series, Spaceport. It is unedited. This is the first scene between Sugar and one of our heroes, Anise. Enjoy!

* * * *

“You in the mood for a dance?”

She grasped her drink and took several sips. “I could be with the proper enticement.”

She was sexy and flirtatious. Anise was already looking forward to their hour together.

“And what kind of enticement would this be?”

She leaned against the bar until she was a breath away from him. Holding his gaze she spoke. “You.”

“Well, I’m yours.” He stood and held out his hand.

She stared down at his for a moment. He feared that she wasn’t going to take it from the look on her face. And then she intertwined their fingers. “Come. I love this song,” she murmured softly.

They slowly made their way to the center of the dance floor, bypassing faceless people and gyrating bodies. He took her in his arms once they reached their destination. She fit against him perfectly. In her heels she was right on his level. Anise had never been with such a tall woman before but he found it oddly comforting. He wrapped his arms around her slim waist and pulled her just a little closer.

“Hmmm,” she sighed into his ear.

His cock stiffened at the sound as he imagined her saying it in bed. He tried to focus on moving to the beat, but found it too damned difficult. “How much?” he asked, giving into his desire.

She pulled back slightly and stared into his eyes. Holding her gaze, Anise couldn’t help wondering if he had made a mistake.

The description Arnando had given of Justifier rang in Anise’s ears as he considered the woman before him. He shook them off. She was both beautiful and dangerous, but she was no killer. There was something delicate about her, something incapable of taking a human life.

He had lived long enough to know the difference between a killer and a whore and Sugar’s touch was precise, practiced, and knowledgeable. She was a woman schooled in the carnal arts.

At least he hoped so cause asking the wrong woman her price could get you a bruised ball on Adana.

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