“’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.