#1 Muse ~ T. Gephart

by Gephart, T

  I didn’t disagree, rocking against him desperately as my body tightened. Chasing the wave of my last orgasm, the sensation inside me built. Higher and higher—tingles radiating from my core and rippling out along my arms and legs.

  “Yes!” I moaned, gripping his corded arms and holding on while he plunged into me. Harder and deeper, each drive of his cock sent me closer to oblivion.

  “You’re so close,” he breathed out, maintaining the rhythm while I writhed underneath. “I can feel your pussy squeezing my cock, begging it to come.”

  White light hit me, my body splintering apart as I came in a rush. He followed right behind, pulsing inside of me as we screamed out, our voices echoing off the walls.

  He kissed my shoulder, rolling off me and tucking me in close. “Just so you know, I don’t usually fuck on first dates. I’m really hoping you’ll still respect me in the morning.” His grin was infectious.

  “That wasn’t our first date,” I laughed, jabbing him in the ribs. “And technically you didn’t take me out, we went to your brother’s house.”

  He reared back in mock shock, covering his mouth with his hand as he whispered. “You mean we had sex before our first date? I feel so cheap.”

  “Our first date was breakfast while you were hung over,” I reminded him, that morning feeling so long ago.

  So much had happened in such a short amount of time. Who knew that ultimately we’d end up together. And not just as a one-night stand, together, together. Not even my stories—where I was guaranteed to get the guy—came close to how magical it had been.

  His brow furrowed looking slightly concerned. “Wow, I was such a cheap bastard. I’m going to have to do better. You know I’m good for it, I’ve been told I’m charming.”

  “You are so charming.” My arms circled around him, inching even closer. “But I don’t need fancy and expensive dates.”

  “And I don’t want to hide you,” he warned, a grin creeping along his lips. “You think we can find a compromise? You be seen, as my girlfriend, and I’ll still buy you shitty breakfasts.”

  I was so gone.

  All he had to do was smile like he was doing now, and I’d have agreed to anything. Add to that he didn’t want to hide our relationship? Well, that just lit a fire in my chest that I was positive could burn us both alive.

  “I’ll go anywhere with you.” It was the only answer I could give, meaning every single word with every single one of my breaths.

  His brow rose, his smile spelled out the trouble he knew he was capable of. “Oh anywhere, huh? You probably shouldn’t have said that, you know I’m going to take that as literal.”

  I didn’t argue, didn’t try to put sanctions on the anywhere I’d freely agreed to. It was too late to change my mind anyway, the path I was on had already been dictated by my heart.

  “You can take that any way you want.”

  “How about I just take you instead? Come on, beautiful, let’s go to bed.”

  “YOU KNOW THIS IS FUCKING ridiculous, right?” Luke sighed, shaking his head as he looked out the windshield. “Though the last time we piled into my car on a mission, you ended up with a hot, successful boyfriend so maybe there’s hope for us yet.”

  “It’s not ridiculous, we’re being supportive. And if you were interested in a hot, successful boyfriend, then you should stop dating fuck-buddies who are only after a fling,” Scully called from the backseat, being more honest than Luke probably would have liked.

  He pegged her with a hard stare in the review mirror, the “I’m pregnant,” coming soon after as the road passed by in a blur.

  Maybe Luke was right; it was ridiculous.

  My hands gripped the seatbelt, the uneasy feeling churning in my stomach. “I should cancel this meeting.”

  “No,” they answered in unison, the first time they’d agreed on something since we’d gotten into the car.

  Like Nick had suggested, I’d called Jeremy’s assistant and set up an appointment. I figured what was the harm, with the probability of him being able to meet me anytime soon remote. Not how it turned out though, with Jeremy having a late afternoon vacancy two days after the phone call which was about two weeks sooner than I’d expected.

  There had been no time to prepare, either accepting the appointment and hoping for the best, or turn it down knowing there might not be another chance. Both options terrified me, but I wasn’t going to say no. Not when it presented me with the first real chance to open a door I had been knocking on for a very long time.

  “You’re right, you’re right. I can’t cancel.” My hands wrung in my lap as I tapped my foot impatiently. “It’s going to be fine, he probably won’t even remember me.”

  Nick had been ecstatic that I had gotten the meeting so fast, expecting—like I had—it would take a week or two. He’d also offered to come with me for moral support and wait outside until I was done. It was incredibly sweet and also incredibly tempting, but the whole idea was that I did this on my own. If Jeremy saw Nick he would assume that I was a loser who couldn’t hack it on my own. Then I’d torture myself by believing the only reason he’d be nice to me was because of Nick.

  No, I had to go it alone, which was why I politely thanked him for the offer but told him I’d be fine and promised to call him right after.

  But there was no way I wasn’t enlisting the help of Scully and Luke, both of them needed to stop me from freaking the hell out.

  “Claire, who cares what Jeremy thinks of you? He’s just one agent in a sea of agents. You can’t spit in this town without hitting one,” Luke offered, trying to be reasonable.

  Scully nodded in agreement, adding encouragement from the backseat. “Not to mention he mainly represents actors, he probably wouldn’t know a decent screenplay if it bit him on the ass.”

  I knew they were trying to be helpful, and while the man was an arrogant prick, he wasn’t incompetent. “He sees decent scripts all the time, he didn’t get rich and successful by not being good at what he does.”

  We rolled to a stop in front of Levin Murphy Talent Agency a little before four. Initially I had asked both Scully and Luke to be on standby, knowing I’d need to talk to someone on the ride over. I’d planned to conference call them, hoping the chat would help with the anxiety as I drove myself there.

  Then, in a strange coincidence—and one I didn’t buy—Luke’s afternoon meeting was cancelled, leaving him free for the rest of the day. And in what was an even bigger miracle—again, they weren’t fooling anyone—Scully’s schedule got changed, also giving her the afternoon off. Such a serendipitous turn of events that no one could have predicted and so obviously orchestrated it was ridiculous. But with the wonderful turn of events it was decided that we—the three of us—went to my meeting together. Luke would drive so I could go over any last-minute notes in the car and Scully would join us because there was no way she wasn’t coming for the ride.

  And I was so thankful I could have cried.

  “We’ll go to a coffee shop nearby, text us when you’re done. We’ll come back and pick you up.” Luke left the car idling as he waited for me to get out.

  Scully grabbed my shoulder, leaning forward in her seat. “But you can call us if you need backup. We’ll storm his offices like a military coup.”

  “This child is destined to be born in prison.” Luke sighed as he shook his head. “She’s going to nail it, impress the pants off of him and then we’re taking her out to dinner. Claire can pay since she’ll be earning more cash than both of us.”

  My heart squeezed, feeling so incredibly blessed to have the best friends in the whole world who had so much faith in me. I had no idea what I’d do without them. Hopefully, I’d never find out, giving them both a friendly hug before I exited the car.

  I stepped out onto the sidewalk, waiting until Luke’s Lexus disappeared before pulling out my phone and rereading the message from Nick.

  I’d wish you good luck, but I know you’re not going to need it. You should call me t
he minute you’re done. It will make me feel important and feed into the God complex I’m working on. ;-) Knock them dead, beautiful x

  It hadn’t changed from the last three thousand times I’d read it, my eyes misting over when I got to the word beautiful. Unlike a lot of guys, Nick never called me babe, preferring to use my name. Beautiful was new, making me grin like an idiot at what was probably an off-the-cuff endearment. But to me it was special, and no one would tell me different.

  Gah, I was tragic.

  Giving myself a firm talking to, I left my loved-up feelings on the sidewalk and made my way to Jeremy’s office. Jessica, his assistant, welcomed me, offering me a seat while I waited.

  “Claire Becker?” Jeremy walked out, at exactly four-fifteen, adjusting his jacket as he waited for me to answer.

  I stood, fighting the urge to run my palms down the front of my skirt as I held out my hand. “Hi, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  He accepted the shake, holding his office door open and he directed me to enter, closing it with a heavy thud behind us.

  “Nice to meet you too, glad you could make it.” He pointed to the chair in front of his desk, not bothering to wait as he sat down on his. “Nick tells me you’re a screenwriter, but this isn’t a screenplay.”

  My butt had barely hit the chair, the lofty stack of documents I hadn’t seen in a while dumped on his desk as he tapped it with his finger.

  I’d been tossed into the lion’s den, any hope I had of easing in with friendly pleasantries was left at reception with his assistant as we got down to business. I swallowed, taking a breath and refusing to show fear.

  “It was a story I was hoping to adapt. Sometimes it’s easier for me to flesh out the ideas in long-form before I craft them into a workable script.”

  He seemed surprised, the corner of his mouth lifting the tiniest bit in what I hoped might have been a smile. In any case, I was taking it as encouragement, sitting up straighter as I waited for his response.

  “Yeah, well, it definitely needs some work, but I think you’ve got something solid here. Good ideas, and very marketable. Best bet would be to pitch it to a network.”

  “Err . . .” Was he offering to represent me?

  He hadn’t said that in so many words, but if he wasn’t, then why was he wasting his time talking about where to pitch? And at the risk of looking like a moron, I needed to know for sure. “I’m sorry, but are you interested in acquiring the rights to my story?”

  Jeremy leaned back in his chair, the slight curve of his lips spreading into a full-blown grin. “Oh, I see where the humor from the story comes from. You’re actually funny.” He laughed, tilting his head back in amusement. “That’s great, really great.”

  “Great,” I echoed, still no more enlightened than I had been a minute ago when I asked. “But you still haven’t said.”

  He leaned forward, still chuckling as he looked at me. “Yeah, I’m interested. No offense, but there isn’t an agent in this town who is going to invite you to their office just to turn you down, so I just assumed you knew.”

  “Well, I didn’t want to presume anything.” I tried to remain calm, my heart beating a million miles per second. “All I really knew was that you’d read it and you liked it.”

  “I do, and I like you.” He waved his hand around before stroking his chin. “And I see what Nick sees in you. Pretty, talented, and you seem smart which is always a good thing. Not sure how the two of you dating is going to work out, but that’s really none of my business.” Delivered with a completely straight face like he’d just run a credit check. “The important thing is that we all make money, right?”

  I coughed, trying to clear my throat. “Money?”

  While I was out-of-my-mind excited at the prospect of actually selling a script, his words made me uneasy. Was it some elaborate plan to see if I was using Nick? Trying to leverage my relationship to get further ahead? Even though I hadn’t been the one to suggest it, it could have easily been a test.

  “No, it’s not only about the money.” I leveled him with a stare. “At least not to me.”

  Jeremy rolled his eyes, not even bothering to hide his irritation as he groaned. “I swear to God these Larssons are like a virus. You’ve only been with him for a few weeks, right? How the hell do they infect people so fast?”

  “I’m sorry, what?” I leaned in closer wondering if I hadn’t missed the part of the conversation where what he was saying made sense.

  “The it’s-not-about-the-money bullshit.” He threw his hands up. “All you creative types who want to hold on to your personal integrity. What the hell is up with that? Can’t we all just do what we’ve got to do and be ridiculously rich? What have you got against money?”

  I laughed.

  Couldn’t help it, the noise bubbling up my chest and out of my mouth. “This is just about money? Do you remember me at all? You’ve read my work before and you hated it. Pretty sure you said you’d rather never be able to read again than read another word I’d written.”

  Psychosis had set in, saying the words out loud just making me laugh harder.

  He looked at me like I’d clearly lost my mind and at that point he might have been right, eyeing me up and down. “Of course this is about money, do you know how many of my clients bring their girlfriends, boyfriends, pet Chihuahuas in here looking to get them jobs? This isn’t the local outreach center and I’m not a charity. So if you’re here—in front of me—it’s because I think I can make money. I don’t care who you’re dating, what steaming dog turd you wrote last time, or if you wear a Howler monkey as a scarf, that’s between you and whichever sucker PR firm you hire.” He pushed away from his desk, shaking his head as he stood. “What I do is make sure everyone keeps working and we’re all getting paid.” He spread his arms out wide. “That’s it.”

  While it did reaffirm what an asshole he was, it did make me feel better. Knowing that I had earned my place honestly and not because of anyone pulling strings. And as long as the asshole was honest, then his moral choices were no business of mine. So in that, we had something in common.

  Wow.

  How awesome had my life gotten?

  “Good to know.” I bit my lip, trying to stop myself from grinning. “Although I will tell you that it kind of makes you sound like a pimp.”

  He shrugged as if weighing my observation. “My wardrobe costs more and I get invited to better parties.”

  “You do dress better.” I nodded to his suit that was probably worth more than my car.

  “Thanks.” He smirked, straightening his tie. “So, can we talk contract terms, or do you want to remind me how much I hated your earlier submissions?”

  I didn’t hesitate, squaring my shoulders as I looked him in the eye. “I want to be the one who adapts it. It’s important that I’m part of the process.”

  He leaned back, his grin widening. “Oh, so the whole doe-eye, I’m all about the creativity was just an act, huh? Now we start with the demands?”

  “You said you wanted to negotiate contract terms, I’m negotiating.” My brow rose, not allowing my gaze to break. “Are we going to do this or not?”

  “Sure, let’s see what you’ve got.”

  “Hi,” I breathed into the phone, unable to contain my smile. “Have any plans for tonight?”

  Nick chuckled. “That depends. You going home to change or keep that skirt on? Very hot for teacher, I like it a lot.”

  My head whipped to the side, knowing he must be somewhere he could see me. “Where are you?”

  I felt arms grabbing me around my waist and pulling me against his body. “Right here,” he said in my ear, his voice no longer on the phone.

  My hand lowered, my phone tossed into my bag as I twisted in his arms. “I thought I told you I was doing this alone.”

  I didn’t even try to sound mad, wrapping my arms around his neck as I gave him a huge hug.

  He lowered his head, giving me a kiss while trying to look sheepish. “Have I m
entioned how terrible I am at doing what I’m told? We can call my mother and she can verify, I am literally the worst.”

  “So terrible.” I kissed him, freezing the minute our lips touched and taking a step away.

  Shit.

  While we agreed we were going to take our relationship public, there hadn’t been a test drive yet. I was still neck-deep in work, splitting my time between reading and writing. And our big reveal—a party Nick was invited to—wasn’t until Saturday.

  He pulled away, looking at me with concern. “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you see any cameras?” I looked around, half expecting to see a zoom lens peeking out through a window like a sniper.

  “Who gives a shit if there are?” He shrugged, cozying up closer as his arms went back around to circle me. “Did you want me to spin you around, so they can get you from a better angle?”

  He grinned, thoroughly amused by my head bouncing around like a meerkat.

  “I’d hoped the first paparazzi photo of me would be of my face, and not of your hands on my ass.” My head tipped to the side, drawing attention to his hands that were very much on my ass.

  “I hate it when they do that.” He squeezed my ass and grinned. “Maybe I should do this instead.”

  I was no longer worried about my ass, his mouth crushing mine in a kiss that left no doubt as to what we were to each other. My lips parted, letting him stroke my tongue with his as his hands pulled me in closer. Man, if anyone was taking photos I hoped I got copies.

  My fingers threaded through his hair, making out with him on the street like a pair of deviants as I forgot what my protest had been about in the first place.

  “I need to call Luke and Scully,” I mumbled against his lips trying to catch my breath.

  He bit his lip, shaking his head trying to look coy. “I relieved them of their duty a few minutes ago. I saw them at the coffee shop across the road and told them I’d bring you home. But we’re going to need to actually go back to your house. Only way we could convince Scully to go was if I promised we’d go straight there.”