by Karina Halle
Her eyes widen. I can’t tell if she’s horrified or intrigued. “I don’t believe you and I don’t want you to try.”
She’s not getting it. I frown, trying to explain. “If you’re having good sex and it’s with someone you’re comfortable with, you won’t worry about holding back. You’ll cry out all the nonsense you want, you’ll make noises like a pig and scream like you’re on fire because you truly can’t have a good orgasm unless you’re letting go on all accounts.” I lean back in my chair and study her, running my fingers along my jaw. “I would venture that every time you came with your ex, you were only experiencing half of what you should have been. How is it with your vibrators?”
I expect her to tell me to fuck off, that I’m getting too personal but to my surprise she gives me a small smile. “It’s better. But I do have a roommate with exceptionally good hearing.” She clears her throat. “Anyway, so I guess I’m wrong. The heroine can make all the noise she wants.”
“And have first time sex in public.”
“I don’t know…”
“Believe me, when you finally get a chance to fuck, you don’t care where it is. That’s why I always have a condom in my pocket. And the more public the sex, the sneakier you have to be, the hotter it is.”
“But in the book you would never get caught.”
“You don’t always get caught in real life too.”
I can see she wants to ask me where I’ve done it but she loses her nerve. “Okay.” She looks back to the document. “I accept defeat.”
But I don’t want her to. I want to prove to her I’m right and not have her take my word.
Is there a non-creepy way to show her just how good good sex can feel? I’m thinking not.
Or…maybe there is.
Might still be creepy though.
I chew on my lip for a few moments, thinking it over. Before she catches my eye, I furrow my brow in false confusion and sigh loudly, staring at my computer screen.
“What?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” I say carefully. “I’m kind of stuck.”
“With what?”
“Well I mean Ford and Shasta have been having sex for pretty much all of the book so far and I don’t want to repeat myself.”
She laughs dryly. “Blake, I don’t think the average reader is going to notice how many times you use the word cock.”
“Yeah but you know. They might.”
“You’re being a perfectionist again.”
“You should talk, you made me rewrite the scene in the classroom again and again.”
“Because I don’t think you can come standing up!”
I give her withering look. She has so much to learn. “Anyway, so they go back to her place while her parents are out of town for the weekend and they’re obviously going to fuck in her bed for the first time.”
“According to the rules, it can’t be missionary.”
“Right. They screw in all directions. I’m just stuck in how to describe the motions in a new way. It’s like, I need to see it for myself.” I stare at her until she cocks her head at me.
“What are you staring at?” she asks, voice tight with caution.
I get up and walk over to her chair, pulling it out. “Get up.”
“Huh? Why?” She looks around in confusion as I grab her arm and try to pull her toward me. Once she’s on her feet, I take a firm grasp of her hand and lead her around the table to her room.
“I need your help,” I tell her, closing the door behind us and flicking on the lights.
She’s standing in the middle of the room, limbs stiff, a deer in the headlights. “With what?”
“My writer’s block. Get on the bed.”
“Excuse me?” Her voice goes so high I’m pretty sure only dogs can hear it.
I can only grin at her as I stride over to her, putting one arm around the small of her waist and throwing her back onto the bed till she’s bouncing on her arse.
“Blake,” she says, holding out her hand to me, palm out.
“Just give me a minute to show you,” I tell her, “it’s for the good of both of us.”
I know she has no idea what I’m about to do it, which makes it even more fun.
“Spread your legs,” I tell her and when she doesn’t because she’s looking at me in shock, I reach down and put my hands between her knees, prying her jeans apart. “But Jesus, try to relax.”
She clamps her knees shut, crushing my hands. “Tell me what the hell you’re doing first!”
“Fine,” I tell her, retrieving my hands and straightening up. I lower my voice and do my best Morgan Freeman impression. “Ford stares down at Shasta as she lies back on the bed in nervous anticipation. He has a hard time reading her but his confusion doesn’t abate the throbbing need in his swollen cock.”
Her mouth drops open, eyes nearly popping out of her head.
I continue my commentary. “Shasta’s cherry red mouth drops open, anticipating his precum on her lips.”
At that, Amanda snaps her mouth shut, though her eyes are still wide and wary. I put my legs on either side of hers, boxing her in. “Ford straddles her, wanting her so badly he can taste it, the honey flavour of her cunt from this morning still on his lips. But he has to take his time, he must.” I lean over her until she’s lying flat against the bed, her eyes glued to mine as I speak. “Shasta deserves more than having it over in a flash. He wants to make her come again and again and to make it painfully slow.”
“Please, stop talking like Morgan Freeman,” she says softly. “It’s making this weirder.” But at least she’s not telling me to stop in general.
I reach down and slowly slide my hand down the side of her waist, the thinness of her tank top betraying the heat of her skin underneath. Suddenly I have to swallow, my narration slipping away as the reality sinks in. I take in a shaky breath in through my nose, trying to remember what I was going to say.
“His fingers trail down her stomach to the sensitive skin of her waist,” Amanda whispers, filling in for me, as she closes her eyes, putting her head back into the mattress.
Bloody hell. This is the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen.
My fingers do as she says, sliding to the bare skin between her top and the waistband of her jeans. I supress a shudder, she’s so fucking soft and warm. I’m barely touching her and she’s undoing me. “He wants so badly to let loose, to ravage her with his lips and eager tongue.”
“But he needs to take his time,” she says, almost a murmur.
Testing my luck, I slowly take my hand to the button on her jeans. “He swiftly undoes her pants.”
She stiffens. “But then thinks better of it.”
I pause. “He wants to feel how drenched she is.”
“But he knows she needs a little more foreplay,” she quickly adds.
I can’t help but grin. “So he brings his large, bear-wrestling hands up to her breasts.”
“But before he does, he brushes his fingers over her shoulders.”
And so I do. My hands look so rough and tanned against the delicate silk of her skin. Goosebumps erupt over her limbs while I slowly bring my palms down over shoulders, stroking carefully over her arms.
She arches her back slightly, her eyes still pinched shut but she’s breathing harder.
Enjoying this.
I press myself against her leg and she lets out a small gasp.
I lower my mouth to her ear. “He presses his rock-hard cock against her hip so she knows exactly what she’s doing to him.” I pause, whispering it. “How hard it is to hold it together. How badly he wants to come inside her, to feel her from the inside out.”
I press my erection into her harder, sucking in my breath. Shit, it really is hard to hold it together. I close my eyes and let out a soft grunt that only makes her press herself into me in response.
I go on, my voice thick with desire. “His lips trail from her ear to her neck where he knows she’ll be putty in his hands.”
She inhales sharply. “But he knows she wants to be teased as long as possible.”
“And yet,” I whisper, my mouth hovering just below her ear lobe, “she has been teased as long as possible. They both have. This was bound to happen sooner or later.”
Gently, I press my lips to her neck. So soft at first. Barely making contact.
Her whole body goes rigid beneath me and the kiss hardens, my lips taking in more of her skin. My tongue snags a taste, she’s so fresh, tart, like lemons and just like a lemon I want nothing more than to suck and suck.
She lets out a moan so close to my ear it nearly sets me off. I drag my teeth along the length of her neck where I kiss her again, harder now, sucking in her skin while my dick gets harder between us and slowly I’m rocking into her, trying to dissolve this maddening tension.
Her arms go around my neck, holding me in place and I can hear her trying to catch her breath.
“She’s not sure if they should be doing this,” she says meekly, her voice cut off by a breathless gasp while I swirl my tongue down to her collarbone.
“Even though she’s loving it,” I murmur against her.
“Even though.”
I lift my mouth away, shifting so I’m above her face and plant my elbows on both sides of her head. She looks so god damn beautiful like this, the first time I’ve really seen her vulnerable. Wild. I’ve seen it in her writing but I’ve never seen it for me. Her lips parted, her eyes closed, neck arched and begging for more, her cinnamon hair spilling out from her braid.
I slowly take her glasses off her face and place them beside us. But she still doesn’t open her eyes.
“He wants her to look at him.”
When she doesn’t, I run the tip of my finger over her lips. “He wants her to see him.”
I watch her throat move as she swallows. “He wants to kiss her,” I add.
I lower my mouth so it’s just over hers and try to keep my voice steady. “He wants her to want it.” I pause, very gently brushing my lips over hers. Electric. “Does she?”
Her eyes flash open, inches from mine. They’re fearful and lustful and wanting and she gives me barely imperceptible nod.
Yes.
I close my eyes and kiss her, her soft, cushiony lips parting beneath mine. She tastes gorgeous, mint and orange I could drink forever, and her tongue is wet and small and soft as it tentatively brushes against mine. It’s good.
So good.
Too good.
I could kiss her into eternity if she’d let me.
A tight noise of want emits from her throat and everything inside me builds, my cock getting stiffer, needing desperate release. The kiss deepens and I want nothing more than to devour her, let loose this wild, passionate hurricane I’m trying to hold back because if it gets loose, I’ll ravage her until she can’t walk, until she won’t know her own name. I’ll show everything she’s been missing and everything she’ll be begging for after.
My hands slip down her shirt again, this time sliding under her tank top.
He feels her hot skin, she’s nearly feverish with her lust.
My fingers trail up toward her breasts, skimming the edge of her bra.
Expensive lace, he absently notes, wondering if she was planning this.
Her hands come over my neck, holding me in place as she bucks up toward me.
She’s desperate now, her pussy swollen, dying for sweet release.
I grasp the edge of her bra, pulling it down until her nipple is exposed. I run the pad of my thumb over it, feeling it harden into a pebble.
Fuck me. If I come in my pants, that’s not going in the book.
“’Do you like that?’ he whispers to her.” I murmur this against her mouth.
“Yes,” she says breathlessly and as I rub my thumb over her nipple again, she stiffens all over, drawn to me, groaning loudly.
“Now that’s what I was talking about,” I smile, pulling back slightly.
She blinks at me, probably unaware of how loud she was. Luckily she can see well up close, so I know I’m not blur, even if I might feel like one.
I want to hear more.
“Amanda!?” Ana’s booming voice suddenly bursts into our living erotica. “Sweet one?”
We look at each other in fright. “Shit!” Amanda squeaks, pushing me off of her. “The Cock Book!”
Damn it!
We both scamper off the bed, adjusting our clothes before we go running for the door. Amanda flings it open as we burst into the living room.
Ana is frowning at the table but luckily she’s not within reading distance of our work.
“What did you do with my makeup station?” she asks sounding annoyed but then as she looks over and spots me standing in the doorway of Amanda’s bedroom, her face lights up, going from happy to see me to jumping to all the wrong, yet almost right, conclusions.
“I’m so sorry!” she says in her thick accent, even though she puts her hand on her lips, thrusting out her breasts. Her finger zig-zags between the both of us. “I had no idea you were…here. Together. Like this. This is great!”
I swallow, glancing over at Amanda. She’s going around the table, closing laptops and clearing it, and the more I stare at her, the more I realize that she’s avoiding my eyes.
“Why are you home early?” she says to Ana, trying to play it off. “I thought you had a date.”
“I did. The food was excellent,” she says with a smile. Then, as if remembering, she holds up a BC liquor store bag, “I bought some wine! Blake, please have some with us.”
I scratch the back of my neck, my heart rate slowly returning to normal. “Thanks, that’s lovely,” I tell her. My eyes dart to Amanda. “I should be going.”
She looks at me, squinting and maybe she can’t see me very well without her glasses. She nods, expressionless. “Okay,” she says, her voice clipped. “I’ll uh, see you sometime.”
Holy fuck, she’s just done a 360 again. The robot is back.
“Right-O,” I tell her with a shrug, going to collect my things.
“Oh don’t leave because of me!” Ana protests, waving the bottle around.
“It’s getting late,” I say with an apologetic smile. “You two ladies enjoy yourself.” I nod at Amanda. “Have a good night.”
I go out the door just in time to hear Ana ask “Were you fucking or fighting?”
Once inside my car I feel I can finally breathe. I wait for a few moments, thinking Amanda might run out after me and make plans for tomorrow but that doesn’t happen.
Fuck. It was going so well. I came on strong but she was liking it and then…then we were interrupted and her stupid brain had to get involved and freak the fuck out.
Still, she was probably acting that way because Ana was there and that lady is easily excitable on top of being completely barmy. I should be impressed she gained her composure so quickly.
I’ll call her tomorrow. We’ll make plans to write.
We’ll see what happens in the next chapter.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Amanda
What the hell just happened?
It was my last thought before I fell asleep and my first thought as I woke up.
I lie back in bed, staring at the water stain patterns on the ceiling, as my head once again goes over everything. Only now it’s the harsh light of morning and I still haven’t figured out how to process it.
Last night…we got carried away. I should have known it was leading to that point. I mean, I kind of brought it upon myself. I shaved my legs. My cooch. I put on my fanciest lace bra and panties. I even wore my hair in a braid, which is one step away from it being down.
And I invited him over. I knew Ana was gone (or was supposedto be gone) and I invited him over because I wanted him to see that part of me. I was only half-joking when I brought him to see my room—I wanted him to really know who he was dealing with here.
He didn’t care. If anything I think it endeared me to him. I’m sure if I suggested we
skip writing and just play Fallout 4 instead all day, he’d totally be down for it.
Video games might have been a smarter choice. Video games don’t lead to acting out sex scenes from your erotica novel.
I groan and cover my face with my hands. What am I going to do? We kissed. I felt his erection, how fucking large he is, and it was all for me.
Me.
I mean, how can we go back to just writing and pretending that didn’t happen? I don’t think I can.
You have to, I tell myself. Otherwise you won’t be able to write a word and throwing away a good thing for a quick fuck is the wrong choice here.
I’m right. I’m usually right. As well as we work together, as much as I’ve fantasized about Blake that way, sleeping with him would be a massive mistake. It would be good…hot…no doubt wild and sweaty and sorely needed and god I’d give anything to wrap my hands around his cock, feel how thick he is and…
No. It would be a massive mistake. And he’d never commit with you, so don’t even think about having a future together.
Fuck. One kiss and a hint at heavy petting and I’m spending my morning arguing with myself.
Luckily the smell of coffee and bacon brings me out of bed. After Blake left—and I felt kind of bad being so dismissive with him—Ana and I stayed up for a bit watching James Corden and drinking wine. She volleyed a thousand questions at me and I deflected them all with simple yes or no answers. I hope she doesn’t start that today because I definitely don’t have the patience before my coffee kicks in.
“Good morning,” she calls out as I take a seat at the kitchen table. “I’m making bacon and regular pancakes.”
“I’ll just have the bacon,” I tell her.
“But I’ve put the bacon in the pancakes,” she says.
I sigh. “Then those aren’t called regular pancakes.”
“Wow, you’re grumpy. I thought all the sex would have helped.”
“Again, we didn’t have sex.”
“Well you never said what you had.”
“Does it matter?” I ask. She comes over and hands me a mug of coffee. “Thanks.”
“Drink that and cheer up. This is a great day.” She flashes her megawatt ivory-veneered grin at me.