Reunion by Cammie Cummins
Twenty years earlier, Donna and Angie shared an intimate weekend in Cancun. So when Donna drops by for a visit, the passion of that long ago weekend ignites anew, but Donna comes strapped with a surprise. And when they’re caught by Angie’s husband Dan, the surprises keep on coming.
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Author SiteAbout the author:
Hi, my name is Cammie Cummins, my friends call me C.C. Late at night when everyone’s gone off to bed and the house gets quiet, I brew a cup of hot tea and indulge in my favorite past time; writing erotica. As I sit and tap out my stories, my greatest hope is that what I write turns you on as much as it does me.
Here is a short sample from the book:
On the empty dance floor, with disco lights swirling, we danced. Our hips touching, our fingers entwined, our hands at the small of the other other’s back, we swayed to the soft music and intense torrent of rain outside.
I smelled of coconut suntan lotion—through we hadn’t seen the sun in the whole three days we were there. Donna smelled of vanilla and lavender.
“Dan won’t dance,” I said, my voice dreamy, my head resting on Donna’s shoulder.
“That’s too bad.” Donna’s hot breath caressed my bare shoulder. “You’re a wonderful dancer, Angie.”
“Thank you.” I closed my eyes, swaying, enjoying the dance, relaxed.
At first I thought it was my imagination but I felt Donna’s lips brush across my mouth. I opened my eyes and it was true—Donna was kissing me.
“I, um…”
She brushed her fingers across my cheek and laid her hand on the curve of my neck, just under my ear. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach and my skin tinkled. Her body continued to sway. She tilted her head and pressed her lips more firmly against my mouth.
She rubbed her body against mine.
I opened my mouth. Her tongue flicked over my lips, across my teeth. A soft moan escaped from my throat. Her hand descended down my body. It lightly caressed the slope of my breast before landing on my hip, only to circle around my body and giving my bum a firm squeeze.
“I, um, Donna, what are you doing?” I asked, flustered and breathless. “I don’t think—”
She cut me off with more wet kisses.
We turned, slowly. Her body pressed against mine. We kissed. Her hands roamed over my hips, my butt, caressing, groping me. When she kissed the curve of my neck, I tossed my head back.
Against my skin, she said, “Let’s go up to our room.”
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