Page 25 of Room 1212

“Did you want more coffee?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at me and holding up the pot, and I didn’t miss the way his gaze was pulled down to the patch of bare flesh I’d left for him.

“No, thanks,” I said. “If I drink any more coffee, I’ll be too wired to focus.”

“Do you need to write this morning?” he asked as he came back to the table. Was it just my imagination or did he sound disappointed?

My laptop was whispering to me from where it sat on the coffee table. “Yeah, I guess.”

Drew picked up on my resigned tone. “Words not flowing like you’d hoped?”

“No, not really. I just wrapped up this exciting fight scene, and this is the part of the book where I would normally have my characters ravage each other because their adrenaline is flowing from the heat of battle, but now I’m trying to come up with something different that won’t bore readers to tears.”

“Hmm,” he murmured. That sound was filled with a lot of unsaid words.

“What?” I asked. “Do you have a suggestion?”

“Well…” He gnawed his lip, debating if he should say anything or not, but what I loved about him was that he would spill it all eventually. He couldn’t hold anything in, so I just sat back and waited. Finally, he said, “Because your characters are always fated mates, it’s all hormone-fueled or whatever, but most people aren’t driven by fate. Relationships are filled with disagreements and compromises, but there are also a lot of moments where we just… exist together.”

I frowned. “I don’t follow.”

“Well, like, you don’t ever show any of the cute little moments that make up most of our lives. It’s all action, either guns and fight sequences or sex, but they never just eat breakfast together, talk about their day.”

“Isn’t that… boring?” I asked, skeptical.

He gave me his adorable lopsided grin. “I don’t know about that. Are you bored right now?”

“No,” I said.

“And what are we doing?” he asked, leading.

“Having breakfast,” I said cautiously, eyebrow raised.

He splayed his hands out. “There you go.”

“And you think I should write them… having breakfast?”

“Sure, why not?” He shrugged. “I would read that.”

I wasn’t sure how that would work, but maybe he had a point. In real life, it was those little moments where a relationship grew. Maybe I could fit something in between the more exciting scenes. I popped the last piece of fruit into my mouth and got up from the table, taking my plate to the dishwasher.

When I headed to the living room instead of back to the kitchen table, Drew piped up, “You’re writing now?”

“Yeah, why?” My brain was already half on the chapter I had in mind, drifting away to my characters.

“Well, I thought we could… y’know.” Drew waggled his eyebrows, and I couldn’t stop the heat from blooming in my chest. My cock gave a little twitch in reply.

“Damn you for being so tempting,” I hissed, grabbing him by the chin and planting a quick, heated kiss. When I felt him tugging at the sash of my robe, though, I groaned and pulled away. I pointed a finger at him. “Keep planning, and then you can reward me when I get my pages done.” With that kind of motivation, I would absolutely fly through these words.

“Pages? Like, plural?” he said, deflated.

“Yeah, I need like 2000 words at least. Sean has been harping at me to get him the rest of the manuscript, and I have a deadline.” My agent was not happy with me these days. He’d only barely accepted those first five chapters I’d given him. I’d had to listen to a full hour of his complaining about the lack of sex.

I brought the laptop over to my desk in the corner of the room. It had windows on both sides and had lots of natural light. Drawing inspiration from Drew’s suggestions, I set my fingers to the keyboard and began to write. I was vaguely aware of Drew moving around behind me, trying to keep busy without distracting me.

I was so lost in the words that I almost jumped clear out of the chair when I felt something tickling my neck. “Drew! Gods! What are you doing?” It was very obvious what he was doing.

“Don’t stop writing,” he commanded, his lips brushing against my ear, his voice a gravelly rumble.

I tried to do as he said, but the feel of his tongue as he teased at my neck was driving me crazy. “How am I supposed to work when you’re doing that?” I groaned.

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