I’ve been flat out all morning. This afternoon, I’m helping Faye. She’s having a rough time. It’s affecting her creativity and she can’t see the wood through the trees. Mila gave some amazing notes to the synopsis and first half, but there’s still something missing.
I’m half focused and half still recovering from dinner at Mila’s. In the end, even Archie accepted me. Mila and I sat together on the sofa laughing with her family like we’d done it a thousand times before. Then, she came home with me to read more of Hayden’s story. Now she’s waiting for the rest of it to be written so she can finish.
She cried again, and I drank until two a.m. after she left.
I let Faye in and show her to the living room. I’ve cleared my schedule to host her today. Hopefully to get her on the right track. Although she loved Mila’s notes, there’s something she’s not clicking with. Unfortunately, she has no idea what that is.
I’m hoping a fresh set of eyes over the new chapters will make it clearer where the rest should fall.
Her shoulder slump. “Thanks again for today. I just can’t get this book to work.”
Faye is another long-time author. The one she’s working on now will be my sixth with her.
“It’s fine. Make yourself comfortable, and I’ll make us a drink. What do you have?”
“Today is definitely a coffee day. Thanks.” She sits down and runs her hands over her tight black curls.
I make us both a drink then set them down in the living room.
She’s flicking through pages of her notebook.
“Let me look over that. Fresh eyes.”
Though my eyes don’t feel that fresh today.
With a frown, she thrusts it at me. “Take it, please! I’m sick of seeing nothing. I’m worried I’ve lost it.”
“You haven’t. Losing your creativity after a tragedy is common, Faye. We’ll get you back on track but try not to put a lot of pressure on yourself. There’s no pre-order for the book yet, which means we can move deadline a little more if we need to.”
“How are you not married?”
I laugh. “The girl is fresh out of a relationship.”
“God, I know exactly how that feels.”
“Okay, this is good,” I say, reading over her messy handwritten notes. “We need to build on Sophia’s motivation. Why is she trying to sabotage her best friend? But this is good.”
“Yeah, I thought that. Your bestie kissing your ex might create tension but it’s not something you usually go postal over. I just can’t think, you know?”
“That’s where I come in.”
We spend the next hour bouncing ideas back and forth. Faye makes a lot of notes, even typing up a couple of scenes while we talk. She takes a break to stretch her legs because the drive to mine took her three hours. I make another coffee, since it’s going to be a long afternoon.
When I walk back into the living toom, I take a seat and pick up her laptop to go over the latest scene.
“You’re quite literally my hero, Reid,” she says.
“If you’re scratching your head for a dedication…”
She laughs at the same time as the doorbell rings.
“I’ll get it!” she says, showing her palms. “Please stay there. Don’t lose momentum.”
I grin. “All right. It’s probably a book delivery. You shouldn’t need to sign.”
I stare back at the screen to read the first chapters as Faye closes the living room door behind her. I’m really not going to be that distracted by a delivery.
Faye is fantastic at creating fear and building tension, but she often needs help fleshing out the motive. She’s an emotional person so assumes that everyone would react the same way. If her friend kissed her ex, she would probably seek revenge. It just doesn’t work in literature unless you have something stronger behind you. You’ll only get a stack of bad reviews slating the character for being unrealistic and childish.
Faye walks back into the room with a frown on her face.
“What is it?”
“Some really hot weird chick. Said she was passing, and then she turned around and walked off.”
Weird, hot chick. There’s only one person she could be describing.
I put the laptop down and stand. “Excuse me a minute. Keep going on that scene; it’s great.”
Dashing past her, I tug the front door open in time to see Mila slamming her own front door over the road.
She ran off because Faye answered the door. Mila is jealous.
I’m also a little bit pissed that she would think I’d see anyone else right now. We might not be vocal about what’s going on between us, but we both know.
I close the door and head over. What I should do is go back inside—let her feel that jealousy and wonder why she’s feeling it.
I stop outside her house, knock on the door, and swallow my satisfaction.
She answers a heartbeat later, and her face falls. Blinking heavily, she takes a step back, and I wonder if she’s going to run off. “Reid, what are you doing here?”
“What were you doing over there?” I nod towards my house.
“I finished work and wanted to… read something, but you have company…”
“Faye.”
She offers me a tight smile. “Lovely. Well, you two have fun. I’m going to do some writing.”
She moves to shut the door, but I block it with my hand. “Mila, come over and meet her.”
“No, thanks!” she blurts, wincing like she was supposed to remain composed.
It’s not working at all. I can see the anger in the tightness around her eyes.
My heart thuds faster.
“Faye is one of my authors. Remember? You gave notes on her synopsis and early chapters. She’s having a hard time figuring out the rest so she asked for my help.”
“Huh? What?”
“She wants my help with work. That’s why she’s here. I have a feeling you’ll be good at revenge plots. Come over.”
She bites her lip and drops her hand from the door. “Should I be insulted by that?”
“You can take that one however you like.”
“Reid!”
“I’m kidding. Please, Mila. I want you there.”
Her eyes hold mine, and she takes a breath. There’s a brief moment of panic in that amber gaze that makes me want to act now.
I want to tell her that she scares me, too.
She clears her throat. “Okay. I do want to meet a proper author.”
“You’re a proper author,” I tell her.
“I’ll let you say that when I’m published.”
When I’m published. Her confidence in her writing is growing.
“It’s good that you’re not having sex with your authors,” she says as she steps out of the house and shuts the door. “That’s just tacky.”
“Who says I’m not sleeping with her?”
Her elbow slams into my side, and I grunt.
“You’re not funny, Reid.”
I rub the wound. “Would it matter if I was sleeping with her?”
All right, I’m fishing here. I should be ashamed, really.
“You know it would. She’s your author, and you have morals.”
That’s not exactly what I was looking for, but that’s okay, I can read between the lines.
Mila heads into my house first. She no longer waits for my lead. Actually, she never has. It’s always seemed natural for her to come and go as she pleases. We’ve been above common courtesy from the start, almost as if we both knew where we were heading.
* * *
The rest of the week is a blur between work, the gym, and Mila. We’ve spent all but one evening together, and that was when I was out with Jase while she met Indie and Spencer for dinner.
It’s Friday night. Mila is at my place, reading an ARC she brought from work. It’s a romance that she insisted I stole for her, until she realised Mel would just let her have it.
I don’t think she’s spoken a word to me since she started it an hour ago. We’ve eaten, stopping at the same pub I took her to on the first day after work, and now we’re in my office.
She sits with her legs up, book resting against her thighs, occasionally looking at the intermittent rain outside.
Her hair is down, legs bare in tiny shorts, and her bottom lip is trapped between her teeth.
Perfection.
I can’t focus. If she looked my way, she would see me staring. Nothing is more beautifully painful than loving her.
She turns the page and glances outside at the gloomy sky.
Meanwhile, my heart tries to break out of my ribcage.
With a ragged breath, I rise to my feet. I’m only vaguely aware of my actions. It’s like she’s cast a spell over me.
I walk around my desk and stop a metre away from her.
Her teeth release that lip, and she looks up at me.
Neither of us say a word as I hold my hand out. Her gaze swallows mine as she gently takes my hand and stands up.
My dick hardens. I pull her closer until she’s pressed against my chest.
I clench my free hand, and my chest expands with a deep breath.
I want her. I want this. Now.
She tilts her head up, and the heated look in those pretty eyes makes my stomach clench.
I lift my hand and take her chin between my fingers. Her mouth parts. I’ve gone too far to stop now. If she doesn’t want this, it’s all on her to end it. I run my hand along her jaw and down, cupping her throat.
Her pupils dilate. I’m breathing like I’ve just finished a workout, but so is she. The heat between us boils over. I can’t stand it any longer. I need to feel her.
I lower my head an inch from hers and groan at the soft whimper that leaves her mouth. She’s not going to stop me.
She wants this, too.
Lust courses through my veins. I see nothing but her now. The only thing making sense is getting her upstairs and naked.
She doesn’t move, but I don’t expect her to, because she wants someone to come to her. I’m more than willing to take the lead here. It was always going to be me taking her. I will do that over and over until we’re old and grey.
I close the distance and press my lips against hers.
She feels magnificent. Soft and hot. Smooth and wet.
I kiss her deep and slow, savouring every brush of our lips until I can’t take it anymore. My dick pulses. I need more. I step forwards and push her up against the wall. Her body, flush against mine, sets my skin on fire.
My hand finds her hair, and I tangle long lengths around my fingers.
With a moan that almost brings me to my knees, she hooks her leg around me. My hands skate down to her waist before I grab both of her legs and lift her up.
She tastes like coffee and heaven. I slide my tongue inside her mouth and press her harder against the wall, desperate to get closer.
Mila’s legs tighten around my waist like a vice, and her hands slide into my hair. I grind against her, fucking ready to fill her. I push off from the wall and carry her out of the room, up the stairs.
She moans loudly as I move my mouth down her neck. God, the taste of her.
I finally have her up close, and nothing could have prepared me for this. She pulls my hair roughly, and I look up. Her eyes widen, and she slams her mouth down on mine again, fighting me for control. I let her have it because I’ll be taking it back soon.
My door bangs against the wall in my rush to get her in my room. Her hands roam over my scalp, tugging and scratching as I walk us forward.
Dropping her on the bed, I step back and suck in a breath.
She leans back on her elbows and looks up at me with wide, horny eyes that I will see for the rest of my life.
“I’m going to fuck you, Mila.”
Squirming, she bites her bottom lip again.
“Reid.” My name is a plea.
I begin to unbutton her shorts. “I love these, but I need them off.”
She lifts up and lets me remove them, along with her underwear. I groan at the sight of her soft skin and toned muscle.
“The top, too. I want you naked.”
Her breath hitches before she whips off her top. I reach around her to unhook her bra.
She’s now naked. Every inch of soft skin begs for my attention.
Pert breasts sit heavy on her chest—nipples hard. Her stomach curves into hips that I’ve dreamt about a hundred times. I continue lower, moaning when I see the little gap between her thighs and a small strip of hair that drives me wild.
My mouth waters. “You’re stunning. I can’t wait to taste you,” I rasp, my pulse pounding so loudly, I can barely hear my own thoughts.
“Oh shit,” she pants. “Keep saying things like that.”
My lips curve. “Lay back, Mila. Open your legs and let me see you.”
She does as I say without hesitation, lying flat on my bed. Her legs fall to the side, and I groan again. Her confidence makes me harder than I’ve ever been before. My erection is painful, constrained against my jeans.
“Fuck me, you’re breathtaking.”
“Reid, I need your mouth.”
“Where, baby?”
Closing her eyes, she murmurs, “I’m gonna die.”
“Not on my watch.”
Her chest heaves. “Please get naked, too.”
I stand back and remove my jeans and T-shirt. Her hungry eyes are suddenly everywhere.
My dick pulses at the thought of having her like this. I want to bury myself straight into her and not come up for hours, but I’m not a selfish bastard in bed.
“Hold onto the headboard,” I tell her.
On a moan, she reaches up and wraps her hands around the wooden spindles.
“If those hands don’t stay there, I’m tying them up. Do you understand, Mila?”
Her face is pure, unadulterated lust, and she immediately let’s go.
I raise my brow. “I really hoped you’d do that.”
“Tie me up, Reid. Fuck.”