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Eight

Sebastian

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You would think that being an erotic romance author would mean that not much could embarrass me or make me uncomfortable, but trying to watch porn with Brynlee in the room did just that. It wasn’t that I was ashamed of what I was doing, but the flush on her cheeks when she realized it quickly brought out one on mine.

I had been stuck on a scene for a while and needed to find a fresh, new way for these people to fuck. That was the problem with the stuff I wrote. It felt boring and repetitive to me, while my fans were constantly expecting something over the top that pushed the limits. This series followed the same girl as she found her sexual freedom and had gone from one partner to multiple. It wasn’t as simple as writing about her being spit-roasted but figuring out how to accurately describe three overly endowed cocks sliding into one hole. 

I was a visual person, which meant that watching porn gave me the details I needed to easily get it down on paper. I hadn’t spent long watching, but I could tell that Brynlee was more than curious every time she glanced my way over her shoulder. I wanted to tell her that she wasn’t missing anything and that I was far more interested in what was happening in her book. Sure, I made a lot from my books because of how spicy they were, but I was growing tired of the constant sex and spending hours watching porn to get the scenes right.

My day hadn’t been as productive as I would have liked, but when she got up and put her computer away at six, I followed suit. If she was calling it a day, I would too.

“I was going to bake some chicken for dinner tonight. Does that sound good?” I asked, joining her in the kitchen as she opened a can of Diet Coke and lifted it to her lips.

“You don’t have to keep cooking for me.”

“I’m making food for me anyway, Brynlee. There’s not much difference with cooking one chicken breast versus two.”

“I didn’t expect to have power up here,” she said with a heavy sigh, leaning against the counter. “I guess I should have planned better.”

“It’s not a problem at all. We have plenty of food, and I’m happy to cook.”

“Can I help with anything?”

“Sure.” I smiled at her as I opened the fridge and started pulling out the stuff for dinner.

I worked on breading the chicken to bake while Brynlee peeled potatoes to boil. We worked well in the small space we were given, moving around without getting in each other’s way.

“Would you like some wine with dinner?” I asked once the chicken was in the oven.

“Yes, please.”

I grabbed the bottle of wine while she reached into the cabinet for glasses. I was surprised that the cabin had everything we needed, given how small it was.

“I was thinking about getting some of the decorations out of the shed tomorrow and decorating in here,” I said as I poured her a glass of white wine. “Would you be interested in helping?”

She lifted her eyebrows as she thought about it. I knew she had a deadline to meet with her manuscript, and I didn’t want to deter her, but I couldn’t help but think about how much fun it might be to do it together.

“You want to put up decorations together?” she asked softly, her head tilted slightly.

“Yeah... Is that okay?”

She shrugged and took a sip of wine as a small smile crept onto her face.

“I’ve never decorated with anyone before.”

“What?” I pinched my brows together. “Not even with family growing up?”

She shook her head, and I couldn’t help but notice the sadness that flashed through her eyes.

“I didn’t have a family.” She rubbed her lips together to keep the bottom one from quivering. “I was put into foster care when I was four. I don’t remember anything before that, and we didn’t do much for the holidays in the homes I went through. I never got adopted, and by the time I was out on my own, I didn’t bother to decorate.”

I had lifted my glass to take a drink and stopped.

“So you’ve never decorated for Christmas before?”

She shook her head again, lifting her glass and taking a sip.

“Is it something you might want to do?” I asked cautiously, not wanting to push her.

“I don’t know. I guess it could be fun. I’ve never given it much thought. Growing up, I hated that I didn’t have a family to do that stuff with, but I was with other kids who didn’t have anyone, either. It was like we were special in a way, none of us missing out on anything more than the others. When I aged out of the system, it felt weird to decorate when it was always just me, and I wasn’t decorating for anyone else. I guess I didn’t feel like there was a reason to.”

“Okay. That decides it,” I said with so much enthusiasm that it made her giggle.

“Decides what?” she asked, her voice lighter than a few minutes ago.

“We’re decorating the cabin tomorrow. We’ll make a full day of it and pull out all the stops. It’s going to be the best Christmas decorating day in the history of Christmas decorating days.”

“I don’t think that’s a real thing,” she said, brows pinched together as she grinned.

“It’s not, but we’re going to make it a real thing. Just wait and see.”