by Kat Addams
“It’s all about grabbing the reader by the feels, Klara. People want to feel. It’s up to you to deliver. Sex comes after the feels—at least, if you’re writing romance. Most of the time anyway.”
“Okay. Well … she seems unsure. Like she knows what she wants, but she is shy and scared. Her mind is working against her body.”
“Uh-huh. Now, do you think, if that man hired a prostitute, she would be unsure? Or do you think she would be the one whispering in his ear and rubbing his thighs? Or, if he was the prostitute … do those really exist anyway? Aren’t they called gigolos?”
“Well, if you want to stereotype sex workers … ”
“No, I don’t want to stereotype sex workers.” Chris stopped her. “You’re going off track again. Just watch them. Study them.”
Klara threw back her drink like the badass boss lady she was—or thought she was when she was drinking gin—and concentrated on the couple. She could feel herself getting warm again. She could see the woman’s foot rubbing against her partner’s legs. The man quickly motioned for the check, handing the waitress his card as soon as she came to their table. The woman sighed as she traced her fingers down her neck and across her collarbone. She then leaned forward and softly touched his lips. The man growled and looked around for the waitress. By the time she came back, the couple looked ready to pounce on each other. Both were breathing heavy, biting their lips, wringing their hands, and doing everything they could not to strip each other down and go at it on the table before them.
The man suddenly stood up and held out his hand for the woman to take. The woman didn’t seem to hesitate any longer. She grabbed his hand as he pulled her up and into him. He kissed her hard and led her to the elevators. Klara and Chris sat, mesmerized, as the couple passed them by. The man spoke with an accent. A sexy, here, take my panties accent. Klara wanted to tell them to wait for her. She was coming, too.
“Are you ready?” the man said to the woman.
“Always … for you.” She giggled.
“Mine,” he said as he pulled her to him and firmly gripped her ass with his free hand.
“All yours.” The woman looked like she was about to melt.
Everything around them looked like it was about to melt.
Damn this couple and their outrageous sexual chemistry, Klara thought. Is this what drugs feel like?
Klara noticed the woman grip his hand tighter to steady herself. Her eyes trusting as he led her away and into the elevator. The elevator doors weren’t even shut before he had her up against the wall. There was a heated silence as both Chris and Klara gazed at the elevator doors.
“Wow,” Klara said, breathless. “I don’t know if I need another drink or a cigarette after that.”
Chris looked glassy-eyed. “I think I’ll have whatever they had. Damn.”
They both laughed and tried to pull themselves together. Their thoughts scrambled.
“What the hell was that all about?” Klara asked, still clearly frazzled by what they’d just witnessed. She wasn’t sure if she was jealous of the insane amount of passion she’d just seen that made her realize she wasn’t shit … or if she was shocked that such a thing even existed.
“You tell me. You’re the one who was supposed to be studying them,” Chris said as he gazed at Klara. He wondered what her thought process was now. Is she as heated as I am?
“Oh, come on! How could I? Did you see what she was doing with her hand? That little move she did before she traced his lips?”
“I did … and that was hot as hell! Did you notice he whispered to her before she did that? I bet he told her that was what he wanted her to do.”
“Really? Well, damn, that is hot as hell!”
“Oh, so you like dirty talk?” Chris said jokingly, waiting for her reaction of mild outrage and pretending she had no idea what he was talking about. He was really starting to learn her ways—or at least, he thought he was.
“I’ve never actually had someone … I mean … why am I telling you this?” Klara knowingly took the bait.
She really hadn’t ever tried dirty talk or anything much besides regular, good ole, trusty, vanilla sex. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to try other things, but her previous partners had mostly been fuddy-duddies in the sack. She’d once had an ex bring a blindfold to bed. It was made out of a light, sheer material. She could totally see through it, but she didn’t want to ruin his effort, so she fake blinded herself and went along with it. The blindfold was itchy, and the sex was awkward, so she faked everything else, too, just to get it over and done with. That was the last kink she had ever experienced.
“Because you want your teacher to bend you over his knees and tell you what a naughty student you are.” The words spilled out of Chris’s mouth before he had a chance to consider that he might just kill his career. He knew he was teasing, but did she?
Klara erupted in laughter that echoed through the lobby. She picked up a napkin and dramatically fanned herself as the waitress swung by again, and Chris ordered them another round of drinks. Chris let out a sigh of relief. That was a big, stupid risk. He was going to have to remember he was the adultier adult here. Even if Klara was making his brain foggy.
“First of all, I know that’s not how you talk dirty.”
“Oh, it’s not?”
“No, I’ve read all your books. I know exactly how you would talk to me if you were to …ya know … talk to me like that.”
“Let’s hear it. Try me. What would I say?”
Klara was not one to back down from a challenge, but she was also mortified to say aloud the things that were in his books and in her head. So, she tried a different approach. “Oh, how lovely your breasts look, spilling over your corset, my dear. Spread your legs, so I can get a view of your glistening slit, wet with my essence,” she said in her best manly British accent.
I can’t believe I just said that. Slit? Essence? Who am I? Klara thought before she was interrupted by Chris’s laughter.
His face was red and flushed from the alcohol, the sexual tension, and the extremely inappropriate conversation they were having.
“Hmm … I don’t think I’ve written about anyone from Britain before, but nice try.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry. It was a western, right? You want me to do a country, redneck accent? I can go full-on redneck. Would you like that?”
By now, Klara was three cocktails deep and obviously growing more comfortable with Chris. If she didn’t quit while she was ahead, she was going to start talking about philosophies of cosmology or unicorn farts. She decided to cut herself off. Maybe. In a minute.
“I have no doubt in my mind that you can go full-on redneck.”
“What the heck is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that I know Southern women. And you are as delightful and sweet as you can be. Bless your heart.” Chris tried to save himself. Recovering quickly as her stare started to send laser beams through his eyes, down his body, reaching inside to punch his testicles.
“Ya better watch what ya say thar, darlin’, before I give ya somethin’ to fill that pretty lil’ mouth of yores,” Klara said, not missing a beat.
They both laughed, unable to catch their breath for several minutes.
Is this real life?
Klara was actually having a really good time, and it seemed Chris was, too.
“Aren’t we supposed to be working and observing people? You’re such a troublemaker, Chris,” Klara teased.
“I’m completely innocent! It was you who came on to me in that shed!”
Well, damn. That escalated quickly, Klara thought. A look of shock overcame her face as she realized he had gone there. Not only is he bringing that up, but he is also blaming me? Oh, hell no.
“I most certainly did not!”
“I know; I know. I’m kidding. I’m the instigator. I take full credit for that. But … about that shed,” Chris said. A look of seriousness on his face. “I’m really sorry about that, Klara. I’m having a lot of fun wi
th you, and I don’t want what happened to make class awkward or ruin what little time I have left in Memphis.”
“How much longer do you have? When do you leave?” Klara ignored the shed incident for now, sobered by the fact that Chris was leaving soon. She didn’t know why she’d thought he wouldn’t. She knew he didn’t live here. She knew it wasn’t forever or even for long. Why was she getting emotional all of a sudden? And then it hit her. That familiar sadness that hung in the air between them in the car when she dropped him off yesterday.
She looked at Chris, and his laugh had faded into a frown, too.
“As soon as the workshop ends. Two weeks. I’ve got to be in Cali for a few weeks and then back to New Orleans, and then, hopefully, Marcy, my assistant, has me scheduled for some time at home. I need to check on that.”
“Oh. I see. We’d better get you some tours going then! That isn’t very long to experience all Memphis has to offer. I can set you up with some friends who can help you out if you’d like?” Klara said, trying to sound happy and smiling, but she couldn’t shake the sadness out of her voice.
“I was hoping you would help. Can you show me around some more? I promise I won’t get weird again. I’ll behave. I feel so bad about that. I hope you don’t think I—”
“I liked you getting weird, Chris. No hard feelings. I wanted it, too, or else I wouldn’t have responded the way I did. And, of course, I’ll help you with your research. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to be doing now?”
“We are. Let’s make the most of these two weeks. Let’s have fun, live life fully in Memphis, and kick some ass on our projects.”
Klara smiled but couldn’t muster up any more laughs. Both of them were completely sobered up after the reality of their situation was put out in the open.
Did he bring up the fact that he was leaving to keep me from getting my hopes up? Does he think I’m falling for him? Am I? Why does he seem sad, too, if he’s the one pushing back? It’s just him pushing back, right? Klara thought too much. Her mind was always on everything, except what was right in front of her. She resigned herself to try to just be in the present these next two weeks. No worries, no schedules, just see where living took her.
“Deal. Partners in crime,” she said as she put her hand out to shake and seal the deal.
He slowly took it and held on a little longer than just a friendly handshake.
“So, the couple, they just met, you think?” she continued as she tried to get their minds back to work.
“Maybe, but it looked to me like they knew each other pretty well. Like maybe they’d met at work and had all this tension building up, and finally, they were at a point they could do something about it. Or maybe they’d met on a dating site.”
“Or … secret swingers! Maybe they are swingers who fell in love, and they are having their first encounter together … and alone.”
“Now, you’re talking! See? I knew you had it in you. Let’s come up with some names and traits for these characters. Swingers, huh? Are you going to read this one aloud in class?” Chris said, thankful that the mood had lifted once again.
“I wouldn’t want to get you all hot and bothered with my sexy impressions,” Klara teased as they got back to work.
They worked through two more rounds of cocktails, three bottles of water, four restroom breaks, and countless pages in her notebook. Writing, changing their minds, rewriting. By the time they looked up, exhausted, the lobby was nearly empty. Klara’s alarm went off on her phone.
The notification read, You’d better have your ass in bed!
“Oh, wow. It’s eleven!”
“Why do you have an alarm for eleven?” Chris said, rubbing his eyes and stretching.
“I have alarms for everything. They help me keep on track, on schedule. How do you not have them with your busy schedule?” Klara said. She was mentally exhausted and ready to crawl into bed.
“I can’t be tied down to an alarm or anything really. I need my mind to wander. It helps my work. Hey! We made a deal! Two weeks of having fun, right? Why don’t you turn those alarms off for two weeks and let yourself get off track a bit? Try it my way just this once, and let’s see if it helps in your writing, too.”
Klara gasped at the idea. “You want me to get off schedule? You know I have a degree I’m working on, I work at the gardens, and I have a novel I’m trying to write!”
“I have a lot, too! It was just a suggestion. You don’t have to. I just thought two weeks of letting yourself go would mean not being shackled to alarms and schedules and all.”
“Who said I’d be letting myself go? How would I get up in the morning and be on time?”
She wondered how Chris knew this was what she’d told herself she would do when they made the deal. She did want to let herself go. She needed to let herself go, but she was almost positive she was defeated already. How can I just forget my responsibilities?
“Bad choice of words. I meant, just you living fully. You can still set an alarm to get up for school and work, silly! I wasn’t asking you to change your entire life. Just relax a bit but still do your thing.”
“Fine. I’ll try it your way,” she said, taking out her phone and turning off every single alarm she had set, except her morning one.
“Wow, how many do you have?”
“Depends on the day.” She yawned.
They both got quiet as they stood to gather up their things and say their good-byes. The sadness washing over them once again. By now, Klara knew she liked Chris. Not just liked, but really, really liked. She wasn’t sure, but she thought he felt the same. The chemistry between them had been running hot since the gardening trip. Every brush up against each other, every time they locked eyes, every blush, every tingle, every everything. She had never experienced anything like this before. It scared her, and maybe it scared him a little, too.
He’s only here for two weeks. Don’t do it. Don’t let yourself get involved.
She tried pulling away, but it was like separating magnets. She could see he was struggling, too. He stood a little too close to her, a little too long, embraced her with a good-bye hug that he clearly didn’t want to end.
“What if I stay?” she whispered, barely audible for her to even hear herself say. Did I really just invite myself to stay the night with him? She couldn’t believe this was happening. Is this how I let myself go? She hoped so.
Walls up? Check. Shame out the window? Check. Caution to the wind? Check. Letting myself go? Planning on it. Klara’s thought process was teetering on the edge of giving no fucks … to get a fuck.
Chris let out a long sigh of relief, cupped her face with both of his hands, and lightly kissed her on the lips. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure! I made a deal to live life fully these next two weeks, didn’t I?”
He kissed her again, pulling back long enough to look into her eyes and smile before he whispered in her ear, “I want to pin your wrists down on the mattress while you wrap your legs around me. I want your eyes on mine as we lie still, feeling each other pulsing as I slip inside you. I need to feel your heartbeat against mine, all hard throbs matching my long, rough thrusts as I dive deeper and deeper into you. I want your moans—mine. I want your body—mine. I want you—mine. Would you like that?”
Klara stood frozen. Fuck yes, dirty talk.
She wasn’t sure what had come over Chris, but she also wasn’t sure she cared to figure it out either. Her toes curled as his eyes flashed at her, darkening. Klara saw her reflection in them. She looked small and anxious, like helpless prey about to be devoured. He was hungry, and she was, too. She had no idea what was happening or how it was happening so fast, but she was determined to let it happen.
Chris grabbed her hand and led her to the elevators. Her growing desire made her even more impatient than usual as they waited and waited and waited on the slowest damn elevators this side of the planet. Chris, sensing her restlessness, pushed the elevator button again and again. He paced the flo
or back and forth, pausing only to pull her into him for a kiss. Finally, the doors parted, and they stepped through. He turned her around so that she could see herself in the mirrored walls of the elevator and pushed himself up against her. She could feel him harden through his pants. She grinned at their reflection as he gently tugged her ponytail to the side and nibbled her neck.
Take that, sexy swinger couple! she thought.
By the time the elevator dinged, Klara was trembling. He took her hand and quickly pulled her down the hall, only stopping to fumble with his room key. Once inside, they didn’t even bother to turn on the lights. Chris kicked the door shut with his foot and began unzipping her dress. Klara’s breath became raspy as she unbuckled his pants and slipped her hands under his boxers. Her hand barely wrapped around his thick cock. She could feel it pulsing as she stroked his entire length up and down. Her hand slowly becoming wet with his drips.
“You’re such a naughty girl. So damn naughty,” he moaned as he picked her up and took her to the bed.
He paused, hovering above her. The neon lights glowing through the window illuminated every mesmerizing curve of her body. Chris licked his lips before crawling down her body, slowly kissing every inch of her. She could feel the heat of his breath as he made his way between her legs, kissing her thighs and working his way in. His tongue licking her entirely from top to bottom.
“You taste so fucking good, Klara,” he said as he pulled her hips into his face.
She ran her hands along his hairline as she watched him suck herself into his mouth and growl. Her knees quivered, and her back arched as she was quickly beginning to lose herself.
“Mmm, not yet, honey. I’m not done tasting every inch of you,” he said between breaths. His hands wrapped around her thighs, steadying her to the bed as she ground against his face.
“I need you inside me. Now!” she urged as she pulled him up to her face.
He kissed her hard as he pinned her wrists above her head. Whatever rabid emotions took over Klara, she wouldn’t be surprised if she started foaming at the mouth.
His mouth. His delicious, dirty, filthy mouth.