by Chelle Bliss
“Bianca May.” I smile, knowing I should be proud of everything I’ve accomplished at my age.
I am.
I’m prouder than anyone will ever know, but it’s the way people’s opinions of me form as soon as they hear “romance” that still punches me square in the gut sometimes.
“Shut your mouth.” She gasps. “I’ve read all of your books. You’re one of my favorites.”
I can’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. “Really?”
It’s still shocking when anyone says they love my words. Every novel I finish, there’s always doubt in the back of my mind that it’s good enough or that my readers will enjoy it.
She nods excitedly. “Tempted by Fate is my all-time favorite.”
“We have a famous author at our table.” Maurice holds out his champagne glass and tips it in my direction. “Do you get your inspiration from Vinnie?”
“I get inspiration from everything and everyone around me.”
“Is writing lucrative?” Marquita asks because, of course, the stuck-up bitch is obsessed with money. “I’ve heard so many stories about how writers can barely afford to pay their bills.”
“It can be,” I tell her and bite my tongue because I want to tell her to fuck off.
“What do you do to support yourself financially while you write?” she asks with a small smirk because, again…she’s a bitch.
I don’t usually like to talk about my success and money, especially in front of strangers, but she’s such an asshole, I can’t think of anything other than putting her in her place. On top of that, I’m sitting at a table filled with professional football players who are paid in the millions. They won’t faint at the figures I’m about to throw around.
“My last book made a little over a million dollars.” I stare straight at Marquita, hoping she chokes on the champagne she’s raising to her lips. “In the first month,” I add to drive that little uptight-bitch dagger right into Marquita’s heart.
Vinnie rocks back in his chair like he’s stunned, and right on cue, Marquita chokes on that damn fancy champagne.
“Wow,” Clarence says. “Who knew there was so much money in romance.”
I nod, feeling the knots in my stomach finally start to loosen. “It’s the hottest-selling genre on the market, with a ravenous and dedicated readership. I have a wonderful publisher, which helps.”
Marquita dabs the corner of her mouth with a napkin, careful not to smear her perfect makeup. “Huh,” she mumbles into the cloth.
Clarence covers her hand, silencing her before she says another assholish thing. “You must be popular to bring in seven figures with your work.”
“She’s the best,” Marilou tells him. “She’s done book tours around the world, and people line up outside the store when her new book releases. She’s a rock star.”
My face heats at her compliment. “I do okay, but I do it because I love it, not for the money.” I’ve always tried to remain humble, preferring to be alone with my computer and words instead of having readers fawn over me.
Marilou waves her hand at me. “She’s being modest.”
Vinnie leans over, bringing his mouth right next to my ear. “I’m going to have to read your books now. I want to crawl inside your dirty mind a little bit.”
I want to correct him. Tell him that my books are fantasy and nothing more. They’re fiction, after all, filled with happy endings and a lot of sex. They’re nothing like my real life.
“I think she’s a keeper, Gallo,” Clarence tells him. “Hold on to this one as tight as possible. It’s not often you find a driven, successful woman who’s willing to put up with our bullshit.”
“I plan to, Clarence. I plan to,” Vinnie says in a low, husky voice, sending goose bumps across my skin.
I’m so screwed.
How am I going to meet my deadline with the hot baller next to me trying to creep into my bed?
8
VINNIE
I READ over the last paragraph again, visualizing Bianca as the woman in her book.
“Down on your knees,” he says, holding her chin tightly between his fingers and staring at her with so much burning desire, her body catches fire.
She kneels gracefully, keeping her eyes fixed on his, loving the way he looks at her like she’s the most precious thing in the world.
“Be a good girl and unzip me.” He taps her cheek softly.
His words wash over her, bathing her in warmth as her need to feel the velvety hardness of his cock between her lips grows. His zipper comes down easily, and she looks to him for the next command.
“Take my cock out, sweetheart, and show me how much you love me.”
Her fingers look so tiny wrapped around his stiff cock. She uses one hand to yank the jeans down his thighs, freeing his hardness from its constraints.
“Take me deep,” he tells her, watching her carefully as she palms his length.
She nods, unable to say anything, and not allowed to either. When she steps into the room, she’s his to do with what he wants, without reservation.
She’s his pet. His property. His fucktoy. She likes being owned, used, and powerless.
“Holy fuck,” I whisper, stroking my cock without even realizing I’m doing it. The book is way hotter than I imagined and makes me just as hard as watching any porno. Knowing Bianca wrote the words only makes it all sexier.
The thought of Bianca on her knees as my sex slave does wicked things to my insides and has my cock begging for attention. The words inside this book are dirty as fuck, and I wonder how much is from Bianca’s real life or her fantasies.
I tap the screen, flipping the page quickly, needing to know what happens next.
“Do you like that?” he says as she moans around the head of his cock, sending a new sensation skittering across his insides.
His fingers tangle in her hair, forcing her to take more of him, deep-throating his length. She gags, tears spilling from her eyes, but loving every minute of their sexual game.
She rests her hands on her knees as he thrusts his hips forward, taking complete control. Her mouth is just a pleasure vessel and his for the taking.
His grip tightens, almost painfully, as his spine tingles and the orgasm he’s been wanting and needing builds.
By the time he’s exploding in her mouth, I’m rock hard and rubbing my cock faster than before.
I squeeze my eyes shut, picturing Bianca’s lips wrapped around my dick, sucking me off and taking me deep.
“Fuck,” I groan as colors explode behind my eyelids and my body stiffens, the orgasm crashing over me in waves.
Where the hell did that come from?
I can’t remember the last time I came so hard or so quickly. Reaching into the depths of Bianca’s mind, reading the words she typed with her very own fingers has my head spinning and my body on fire like never before.
After I clean myself up and my breathing goes back to normal, I pick up my phone and think carefully about my next words. I don’t want to sound like some asshole who’s only after her for some ass, but damn, the girl makes my mind reel with possibilities.
Me: So, I’ve been reading one of your books. You’re an amazing writer.
I roll my eyes as soon as I hit send, knowing I sound like a moron. What else am I supposed to say? I guess I could’ve stayed quiet, pretended I never read the words in her last novel, but part of me wants her to know.
Bianca: Um…Thanks. Which one?
Me: His. It is hot AF too.
Bianca: Readers seemed to love it.
What’s not to love? The guy was powerful yet nice, and the girl was like a Pandora’s box of pleasure. I’m only halfway through their story, but I can’t imagine the action ever wanes.
Me: How do you come up with your story ideas?
Bianca: Not my real life. That’s for sure.
Me: Come on. A beautiful girl like you has to have men lining up at the door to take you out.
Bianca: Check the hal
lway. It’s empty.
With that, I’m on my feet, heading toward the hallway because if no one else is going to wait at her door, I sure as fuck will.
Me: I see a line.
Bianca: Ha-ha.
Me: No, look.
Bianca: No way. I’m not dressed, and I’m working.
Me: Even better. ;)
Bianca: I’m not home.
I press my ear against the door, hearing the patter of her feet against the hardwood. I knock lightly and laugh as I hear her running to God knows where.
“Bianca.” I lean against the doorframe, talking to the wood that’s separating us. “I can hear you in there.”
There’s nothing but silence. I imagine her stark naked in the middle of her living room, staring at the door.
“I promise I won’t bite.” I smirk, but fuck do I want to sink my teeth into her soft skin and listen to her moan my name. “I don’t care what you’re wearing.”
Preferably something lacy and sexy. She has to get herself in the mood to write such spectacular sex scenes. She probably sits at her desk, wearing all sorts of lingerie and bright-red painted lips as she pecks away at the keyboard.
The latch to the door lock clicks, and I shove my phone into my pocket, ready to get a look at the sexy romance writer in action.
She opens the door an inch, not giving me much to look at.
“Hey.” I smile, keeping my eyes on her face.
“What’s up?” Her eyes rake over my bare chest before returning to my face. “I was in the middle of writing a chapter.”
“Let me read it,” I beg.
“No way.”
“Come on.” I push against the door a little, but it doesn’t budge.
I’m not giving up. I haven’t stopped thinking about Bianca since the party the other night. I keep looking for her in the lobby, listening for any movement in the hallway, but she’s remained elusive.
“Nope.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” I fold my arms in front of my chest.
I’ve never had to work this hard to get a girl to let me into her place. Usually, they’re pulling me in the door by my T-shirt, yanking my pants down before we’re even in private. But not Bianca. She’s the exact opposite, and it’s making me curious and crazy.
She rolls her eyes. “You’re impossible.”
“But I’m adorable too.”
She grunts, opening the door and motioning for me to come in. I stalk into her place, not looking at her until the door shuts. I ready myself for the sexy outfit, the porn star makeup, but I’m met with something entirely different.
She’s staring at me with her arms folded, her hair in some weird messy-bun disaster, torn sweat pants, and a coffee-stained T-shirt with the words Running on Coffee and Dry Shampoo.
From the looks of her, the shirt’s pretty spot-on. It doesn’t matter. She’s still beautiful. She’s still Bianca, the spicy Latina girl with all the dirty thoughts in that pretty mind of hers.
“Happy?” she asks with her face pinched.
“Very much.”
“Didn’t expect this—” she waves her hands up and down the length of her body “—did you?”
I sweep the hair away from her face. “I don’t care what you’re wearing, I just wanted to see you.”
“You’ve seen me.” She motions toward the door. “You can go now.”
“Mama, why so cold?” I run my finger down her cheek, and her pupils dilate as her breathing slows. “I thought you’d be happy to see me. I want to talk about your books.”
She steps backward and away from my touch like I’m burning her with the contact. “I’m behind on my deadline, Vinnie, and I’m stuck in this damn scene. I really have to concentrate to nail this part.”
My cock twitches, loving the idea of her writing a dirty chapter just as I knocked. Does she get as turned on by her words as the people do who are reading them? I can’t imagine having sex on the brain all the time and not touching myself to the point of blacking out.
“Well, I know sex and football. Maybe I can help you work through the scene.”
Her tongue darts out, sweeping across her lips as her eyes drift across my chest. “How can you help?”
Instead of going into all the ways I can help her with sex, even in her books, I let her do the talking because I’m about ten seconds from sweeping her off her feet and planting my lips on hers.
“What’s the problem?” I ask, praying to God it’s something hot.
She starts to pace. “I’m trying to work out the logistics of the position. Keeping all the hands and body parts in the right place is challenging sometimes.”
“I’ll be your prop. I can help you work out what’s happening and where all the body parts should be. Use me.”
Her eyes narrow as she looks at me, but she doesn’t stop moving back and forth across the room. “I don’t know. I’ve never needed help before, and it might be awkward.”
“I’m all about awkward. Remember, I’m a professional too. Let’s get you over this hump.”
Since I’ve walked in, we’ve thrown around words like hump, nail, and other sexual terms that have my body buzzing with excitement.
“Are you sure? You already look a little…” She points to my pants, and my eyes follow.
“Fuck. I’m sorry,” I say, pushing my cock downward because, damn it, I’m horny as fuck.
How? I don’t know.
Fifteen minutes ago, the orgasm that rocked my body was so hard-core, I wasn’t sure I could even get another boner no matter how hard I tried.
Clearly, I was wrong.
Bianca does this to me, and that’s how I know I’m in trouble. I should walk away, leave her be, and go back to my place, resting up for practice tomorrow. But I can’t. I won’t.
“We’re not sleeping together,” she tells me like she’s reading my mind.
“I never thought we were,” I lie. “Where do you want me? The bed? The couch?”
She stops moving and stares at me, tapping her chin and not speaking. She chews on the corner of her lip, and I can’t stop myself from watching the way the soft skin stretches between her teeth.
“Fine. Come here.” She motions for me to follow, and I practically skip across the room out of excitement.
She lies down on the couch with her legs spread and wiggles her fingers as I tower over her. “Get on top of me, but don’t get any ideas.”
That’s laughable. Ask any guy to lie on top of a chick, and his mind is going to be filled with ideas.
“I thought you’d never ask,” I say playfully, but fuck me, I really want this girl.
I climb on top of her, careful not to press my hard cock into her pussy. I’m almost certain that would earn me either a slap to the face or a quick escort out of her place.
“Like this?” I balance my weight on one arm, holding my body over her.
She stares up at me with those honey-brown eyes. “Slide your arm under my back and grip my ass, tilting my hips.”
I’m in sheer fucking heaven.
“Like this?” My palm finds her soft ass cheek, and I nearly groan at the way she fits perfectly in my hand.
“Exactly like that,” she says. “Okay. Now, can you grab the back of my neck with your other hand and still hold up your body weight?”
“Fuckin’ A, I can.” I could probably levitate right now with the way my body’s buzzing.
“Let me see,” she says.
In this moment, with this girl below me, I don’t think I’ve ever had a better night.
9
BIANCA
“LIKE THIS?” He grips the back of my neck with just enough pressure to send tingles down my spine.
I felt tiny standing next to Vinnie, but with him on top of me, holding me in his arms, I feel even smaller and even more turned on.
“Just like that.” My voice cracks a little, which has Vinnie smirking. “Now, can you move?”
“Move?” He raises an eyebrow with a smirk.
He’s playing dumb, but he knows exactly where I’m going with this. He just wants to hear me say the words.
“Yeah, like could you fuck me in this position?”
“Baby.” His smirk turns into a wide smile. “I could fuck you in any position.”
My mouth is suddenly dry, and no amount of swallowing helps. I need to remember we’re working and he’s helping me with a problem. We’re not actually going to do it. “Can you be serious for a minute? This is important.”
“Can you let yourself be free and spontaneous for a hot second?”
I used to be more spontaneous, but the older I get and the more pressure that comes along with my work, I find it hard to let myself be so frivolous. Especially as a deadline approaches, my entire life becomes about work and word count. It’s something most men can’t deal with. No one likes to play second fiddle to my computer.
“Do you want to help me with the book or not?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
I slide my arms around his shoulders and bury my fingers in the back of his brown hair. “Try to move.”
He stares down at me, still holding his crotch far away from me. “I’m going to be real honest here, Bianca. I’m super turned on, and I don’t want you to slap me in the face if my cock touches you.”
“I promise not to slap you. It’s just a cock.”
“It’s not just a cock. It’s my cock, which is currently hard, and I’m worried if I touch you with it, you might not actually get any work done tonight.”
“We’ll be fine,” I tell him, but I’m not entirely convinced. After six months, my body’s craving to be filled, and with the way Vinnie’s looking at me, I can feel my willpower slipping. “We’re adults and professionals, right? It’s not like you have a magical cock.”
“I’m always a professional.” He’s hovering above me, looking sexy as hell with the way he’s staring down at me. “And it is indeed magical as fuck.”
This may be my dumbest idea yet, but I needed his help because this worked in my head, but my editor disagreed.