Page 58 of The Final Draft

Holy fuck! I’m lost in his words. My insecurity melts away, replaced by a surge of confidence and eager anticipation, a thrill that tingles throughout my body.

But a tortured look fills his eyes. Is he talking about the book or us? If it’s about us, I’m hesitant because his intensity is overpowering. I have no words, yet he seems to have plenty of them. And they have a profound effect on me. It’s as if they can melt my heart and leave me forever changed. Goosebumps prickle my arms as I fight the urge to pull him close, desperate to feel his touch everywhere. It’s not the first time my body’s reacted to his words like this. If he worships me like he describes, I’m going to spontaneously combust. I’m ready to cash in on the promise he’s making.

He’s stunned me into silence. I breathe deeply and fill my lungs with air, attempting to slow my rapid pulse. My brain tells me I should acknowledge his words, say anything, but I can’t. I’m ruined. Digging deep, I and give him what few words I can muster.

“Oh. Okay.”

Well, that’s just brilliant.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-SEVEN

JULIAN

After reading her scene, it takes every ounce of restraint I have not to give it to her exactly as she wrote it. My god, I’m getting hard just imagining banging her rough and wild. I get it. The carnal need. The pent-up sexual tension. The feeling that if we don’t physically connect, the world may end. Her words are descriptive. Raw. Intense. And so fucking sexy. Is that what she wants? To be fucked against a wall? I’m more than willing to oblige. The second or third time, maybe. But our first time? No. It won’t be some animalistic urge. It will be about her. For her. I want to prove to her sex is more than a fuck against the wall.

And it’s the first time I’ve ever had these thoughts about a woman. Sure, I’ve fucked like an animal. I’ve had sex with different women in different ways, but I’ve never felt the need to slow down time, enjoy the person, not just the act. She’s absolutely worth the wait.

And I tell her that. I search her eyes for a response. “Oh, okay,” she mutters. And now I’m the one that’s at a loss.

Her hesitant tone knocks down my usual confidence a notch. “Can I read yours?” She’s quiet and I’m dying to know what she’s thinking.

“Of course. Turnabout is fair play.” Handing her my laptop, I get up and walk to the kitchen, glancing at Noodle curled up in the afternoon sun. I mentally recite baseball stats to get my dick under control while I pour myself a drink. I sneak a peek at her as she reads, and she has my favorite surprised expression on her face. Her mouth making a perfect O induces impure thoughts again. That’s enough to undo the baseball stats. My dick is ready, but I’m not sure she is. Taking a big gulp of my bourbon, I head down the hall towards my bedroom. I need to give her space and I need to think about baseball.

I’m gazing out the window, taking in the sight of people enjoying Central Park on this beautiful autumn afternoon, trying to keep my dick down. It’s nearly impossible not to think about the gorgeous woman in the other room and all the things I want to do with her. I’m lost in my thoughts when I’m startled by arms hugging me from behind. Her head is on my back, and I can feel her exhale.

“That was beautiful,” she says.

Her enjoyment of my words and feelings fills me with a sense of satisfaction. But she must know by now. She’s my muse. Everything I wrote between Charlotte and Gavin is what I want for her. With her. When I picture Harper, words pour out of me like Niagara Falls, and I have to sift through them to find the right ones. Beautiful words? Not really. Needy words. Absolutely.

“Tell me what you liked about it.” While I am interested in her writing critique, my focus is wholly on her.

“I’d rather show you.” Her hand snakes down my hip and moves toward my cock. I intertwine my fingers with hers and slow her advance. I’m not opposed, but I need to make sure she’sready for this next step. Once we become friends with benefits, there will be no turning back.

She tenses, and I turn around to face her. Her beautiful lips have a slight pout. Placing my finger under her chin, I gently tilt her face towards mine, captivated by its radiance. As I bring my mouth to hers, I whisper the only words I can manage to utter, my lips barely able to form them. All logic is gone, and I’m officially awarding primary decision making with my head below the waist. But this is too important to leave unsaid.

“Harper, are you sure? Because make no mistake, I want you more than the air I breathe. But you need to be ready because this is going to change us. I believe for the better, but just know, we will change. Are you ready for the new us?”

“Yes.” Her consent given against my lips is the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced. With each tender touch of our lips, I inhale her words, their meaning washing over me like a sweet caress. I’ve never felt so amped up and relaxed at the same time. Another contradiction. Like her softness to my hardness.

My hands cradle her head, my fingers wrapped in the soft strands of hair at her nape. To deepen our kiss, I gently guide her head back. Her mouth and tongue taste sweet and decadent. I need more. My voice is gravelly and lower when I growl, “I want to taste all of you.” I’m rewarded with another one of her surprised expressions. “I meant it when I said I want you to come on my face and then on my cock.”

“I thought that was for the book.”

“Oh, we’ll put a version in the book, but I need to test it all out on my muse, make sure it’s perfect,” I tease. I walk her to the bed, and when the back of her legs hit the side, she falls back. Exactly where I want her. I’m not taking any chances, so I hit the remote to drop the privacy shades. She’s for my eyes only, and I don’t share. “Do you trust me?”

Her grin, full of eager expectation, stretches across her face as she nods.

As I take the hem of her shirt and gently lift it, her arms shoot straight up, readily helping me along. I appreciate her willingness to assist. Her skin is cool and smooth beneath my fingertips. I’m rewarded with ample breasts held captive by a pale blue lace bra. It’s sweet but in my way. With her breast in one hand, I reach for the clasp with the other. I’m normally a fan of lingerie, but Harper doesn’t need scraps of lace to get me excited.

My tongue starts the exploration of her body. I kiss down her jaw to her ear, neck, and collarbone, savoring the way she responds to my touch. She tilts her head back to give me better access, and I file that information away. She likes it there.

“I’m one lucky man because, gorgeous, you are exquisite.” As I lap at her nipples, I feel them responding to my touch. I playfully lick and blow a soft breath, spreading a tingling sensation over her skin. I’m rewarded with an arch of her back and pleasure filling her face.

With that encouraging look, my life’s mission shifts to making her feel good a hundred different ways. Make it five hundred. A thousand. Infinity.

My fingertips skim down her side, following the contour of her waist and hips, her hourglass figure pure feminine perfection. I let my fingers breach her waistband, slowing, relishing her soft skin. I glance at her to make sure this is still what she wants. Her hands answer as she helps pull down her leggings. It's obvious she's desperate, and I'm driving her crazy with my slow pace. Too bad, gorgeous. I’m enjoying the delicious torture. I take her leggings off with care and see a set of lace panties that fit her curves perfectly. My mouth continues down her body, and I kiss her hip as I work my way to the apex of her thighs.

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