Hey there! So I’m busy getting ready for the Romance Writers of America conference in Atlanta – which I’m super excited about – and while I’m gone for the week I thought I’d post a short story I wrote sometime ago. I’m thinking about writing the whole story and would love to know what you think. Should I or shouldn’t I? Do these characters spark any interest for you? Please be totally honest!

Have a great week!



Kieran Randall drew in a slow, steadying breath and kept her eyes on the downtown Los Angeles skyline. The view from the terrace of Perch was especially nice as the final wisps of daylight disappeared. Several other private party guests stood further down the tiled balcony, but most people mingled inside the restaurant enjoying the oyster bar and live jazz. “It is beautiful this time of day,” she said.

“I agree. But I wasn’t talking about the scenery.” The man at her side had a deep, sexy as hell voice and Kieran gulped. “Nice dress.”

Oh. “Thank you.” She loved her white LuLu stretch knit sheath dress with gold beads and a round neckline that dipped low at her back. She also loved the man standing next to her. Not love, love. She’d never met him, but his recent spread in People magazine’s Sexiest issue was sort of stamped on her brain. Her skin tingled thinking about the daydreams she’d had about him. They’d made eye contact across the crowded room several times this evening.

His twenty-something, full lips spread buzz. One word and nobodies became somebodies. And holy shit, he was talking to her.

“Congratulations,” he said, then leaned in closer and whispered, “You were my favorite all along.”

Chills raced down her spine. Kieran looked down at her platform dress sandals. Was Brody Vaughn hitting on her? Sincerity rang in the smooth texture of his voice, indicating he was probably just being friendly. After all, he dated models and actresses, not newly crowned fashion design winners of a reality television series.

She turned and her legs almost gave out. Oh, my. Up close, he was even more beautiful. Light green eyes, Robert Downey Jr. nose, brown hair with streaks of caramel overdue for a haircut. His mouth curved into a smile.

Warmth zinged around her insides. Her gaze moved to his lips. What would they feel like all over her body?

“Thank you,” she said again, her voice a little breathy, dammit. She really should say something else, but the man zapped every one of her brain cells.

“Brody Vaughn.” He extended his hand. “My friends call me Vaughn.”

“Kieran Randall.” She took his warm hand and two things happened: Lust harpooned her heart, and she caught a glimpse of ink on the inside of his wrist. She pressed her thighs together. Did he have tattoos anywhere else? “My friends call me randy. I mean,” she sputtered, “they call me Ran.” Maybe the floor could swallow her up now. She was sure her cheeks looked sunburned.

He chuckled, but not in a way that said she amused him, more like he was flattered she’d shared that. His eyes softened and he held her gaze. “Ran?”

“End of my first name, start of my last.” She chewed her bottom lip, tasting the strawberry lip gloss.

“Well, Ran, what I’d really like to do right now is take you somewhere less crowded.” He stood too close. His after-shave scent was ridiculously alluring.

She leaned into his words. Mr. Millionaire Hollywood Hot Shot wanted her alone? This sort of thing did not happen to her. Like ever. And she most certainly did not do one-night stands. But this was Brody Vaughn!

“Really?” Shit. She hadn’t meant to make it sound like a question.

“I don’t say anything I don’t mean.” He took her hand and slid his thumb across her knuckles. “What do you say, Ran?”

Her best friend, Alyssa, would kill her if she didn’t go for it. Besides, she had on her sexy, slinky Betsy Johnson knit thong under her dress. Not that he’d be seeing it. But it did sway her decision. “I say lead the way.”

A grin that turned her stomach into a terrifying, but delicious bundle of nerves crossed his gorgeous face. If she wasn’t careful, she’d fall for this guy and that was just plain stupid. No way would this go beyond tonight.

He held her hand and wove them through the restaurant. His grip was definite, possessive, and tingles raced up her arm. She didn’t dare look around, didn’t want to see anyone’s lifted eyebrows.

The elevator doors opened and they stepped inside. Seconds—minutes? Time seemed to stand still, her mind and body overrun with bone-melting excitement—later they slipped inside the back of a black stretch limousine waiting curbside.

Vaughn sat beside her. He turned and toyed with the wavy strands of blonde hair that had escaped her updo. His warm gaze diminished any lingering apprehension.

A moment later he kissed her. His lips moved against hers slowly at first, but the second she kissed him back, he took charge. His tongue tangled with hers, his hand touched her cheek, trailed down her throat, around her bare shoulder, and settled at the outside curve of her breast. Sweet, delicious sensations overwhelmed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and practically crawled into his lap. More. God, she needed more.

He tasted like spearmint and tequila and she wanted to get drunk on him. His touch, his hot mouth on hers like he couldn’t get enough, made her feel alive.

His hand drifted lower, cupped her ass, and brought her closer. Her breasts ached, coils of pleasure pooled between her legs. Vaughn groaned, the sound igniting a fire inside her she was helpless to extinguish.

I am so out of my league. Kieran pulled back, lifted her heavy lids. She knew who she’d had to be during the show competition. Now? Not so much.

Vaughn lifted her chin. His eyes shimmered with desire. For her. “Hey…” His gentle tone unnerved her.

“I’m sorry. I need—”

“More than tonight.”

“Yes,” she whispered, her heart hammering inside her chest.

He pressed a delicate kiss to her lips. “You free tomorrow?”

Their gazes locked. Untold adventure sparkled in green depths she wanted to drown in, and she quivered in anticipation. Yes! In that instant Kieran knew their story was yet to be told…



Posted July 14, 2013 by Robin Bielman in Writing / 7 Comments

7 responses to “Short Story

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