I only see the show they put on. I don’t see them being real. Natural.
Kendra is all natural.
She glances at me over her shoulder, giving me a smile. I catch sight of that little dimple by her lips and my mouth twitches in a grin.
Client, she mouths at me.
I nod and head for the fridge, but she puts up a hand to stop me, then turns back to her screen.
“Sorry, Shannon, just give me a second. Roommate.” She turns back to me and whispers, “Don’t get in front of the webcam.”
“Why?” I whisper back.
Her eyebrows lift. “You’re not wearing pants.”
I glance down. I have on a gray t-shirt and boxer briefs.
Her client—Shannon, I guess—covers her mouth, but we can both hear her laugh. Kendra’s eyes close and she shakes her head.
“Hot roommate?” Shannon asks.
Kendra snorts. “Don’t encourage him. Sorry, apparently Weston is allergic to pants, so I’m trying to keep him out of view.”
Shannon laughs. “Don’t worry about it. Maybe he’ll inspire me.”
“Yeah, well, he’s definitely…” Kendra glances at me again, her cheeks flushing. “Anyway, where were we?”
I wonder what she was about to say; he’s definitely what? I walk around the other side of the table and get a bottled water out of the fridge. Without stopping her conversation, Kendra holds out her hand. I give her the bottle and she opens it for me, not breaking stride for a second.
“I think you’re good up until they get to the bedroom,” Kendra says, handing the water bottle back to me. “It’s once they start taking their clothes off that we run into problems.”
That gets my attention. I lean against the counter and take a drink. What kind of book is her client working on?
“I agree,” Shannon says. “I’m just not good at sex scenes. I needed a ton of help with them in my last book, and even then, I know they could have been better.”
I take my water to the table and sit across from Kendra. She meets my eyes and for a second, it looks like she’s going to say something to me. But she gives her head a little shake and turns her attention back to her screen.
“You just need to get out of your own way. Let it flow,” Kendra says. “I think your biggest problem is you’re too mechanical. There’s a lot of tab A into slot B stuff. Including a little of that is good; it grounds the scene and helps the reader picture what’s happening. But you also need to include the sensations—the feelings.”
“That makes sense,” Shannon says. “I’m just not sure how to do it.”
“Think about things like skin touching skin,” Kendra says. “Her nipples, erect against his chest. His stubbly chin, dragging against her cheek. Think about the juxtaposition of hard and soft.”
My eyes are locked on Kendra’s mouth, and my cock twitches at the word hard. I probably should have put on pants.
“Let’s walk through this scene and maybe I can give you some specific ideas,” Kendra says.
“Sounds good,” Shannon says.
“Okay, so Cherry and Max get to the hotel room. I think Max needs to be more aggressive with her. Instead of gently laying her on the bed, he should be more frantic. The reader needs to feel like he has to have her, now.”
“What do you mean, like he pushes her down?” Shannon asks.
“Why not?” Kendra asks. “Have him shove her onto the bed. Women love that.”
I take sip of my water. Damn straight, women love that. I wonder if Kendra does.
“That’s not too intense?” Shannon asks.
“No, you want intense,” Kendra says. “He’s not trying to hurt her. He’s just being kinda rough. Dominant. Trust me, that’s sexy as hell.”
There’s more keyboard clicking. “All right, I’m taking notes.”
“Good,” Kendra says. “Now, for this particular scene, I think you have them taking too long before they get to the good stuff. Sometimes that works. But here, they’ve had an entire day of thinking about how much they want to bang the shit out of each other.”
“What was happening before this?” I ask.
“What?” Kendra asks.
“You said they’ve been hot for each other all day,” I say. “What was going on?”
Kendra pauses, looking at me like she’s confused. “Well, they were at work, and then at a company party, like after hours. But Max is Cherry’s boss, and they can’t be together in the open. So they spent the party flirting and kind of sneaking around. Now they’re alone and they can finally unleash all their pent-up sexual tension.”
I nod. “Then he’d be aggressive at first, but he doesn’t want to blow his load too fast. So he won’t just toss her on her back and pound her into oblivion. I’m assuming this guy is good at sex?”
“Yeah, she’s writing a romance. That’s pretty much expected.”
“And I need to turn up the heat,” Shannon says. “Way up.”
“Turn up the heat, huh. Well, if he knows what he’s doing, he’s going to drag it out for a while to drive her crazy,” I say, an image forming in my mind. “Throw her down, but tease her and make her wait. He’d get his mouth on her pussy and make her come like that first.”
“This is great,” Shannon says. “What else?”
I shift in my seat and take another sip. “So he really goes to town on her, right? Licking and sucking that clit like it’s fucking candy. He loves it and she comes hard. Now he can’t take not being inside her anymore, and she’s begging for his dick. He gets on top of her because he wants to be the one in control. He’s taking her for a ride and she doesn’t need to do anything, just let him fuck her senseless.”
Kendra is staring at me, her lips parted. I can hear Shannon’s keyboard clicking.
“He pushes her legs open and thrusts inside her,” I continue. “Hard, you know? Now he’s not playing around.”
“And she’s relieved she can finally let loose,” Kendra says. “So she makes a lot of noise. Moaning, exclamations of how good it feels, repeating his name.”
“That’ll get his blood pumping—hearing her.” Shit, this is getting my blood pumping. I should definitely be wearing pants.
“Exactly,” Kendra says. “And don’t forget the other senses. He hears her, but he also smells her, tastes her on his lips.”
“Everything will make him want to fuck her harder,” I say.
Kendra’s nodding along. “Absolutely. Ramp up the intensity here, and don’t forget to focus on what it feels like. Her body is responding to him. She gets hotter, wetter. He’s overwhelmed with how good it feels.”
“Should they stay in one position the whole time?” Shannon asks.
Kendra meets my eyes and we nod to each other. “Yeah, I think so,” she says. “The purpose of this scene is to show them giving in to all that pent-up lust. Sex gymnastics can come later.”
Sex gymnastics. That sounds fun. Although thinking about it kind of makes my ribs hurt.
“This is so helpful, Kendra,” Shannon says. “Thank you. And thanks to the hot roommate.”
I wink at Kendra and her eyes linger on me for a long moment, a mystified expression on her face. “It’s no problem.” Her eyes move back to her screen. “Let me know if you have more questions or want to go over any other sections in detail.”
Taking advantage of Kendra’s attention being elsewhere, I stand, nonchalantly tugging on the edge of my t-shirt so it covers my erection in case she does look up. She’s still talking; I leave the kitchen and head down the hall.
I had no idea Kendra had such a dirty imagination—or such a dirty mouth. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but the entire time I was talking, I was picturing myself with Kendra. My mouth on her pussy. Tasting her. Making her come so hard she can’t breathe. Driving my cock into her. Giving in to our pent-up lust.
I slip through the bathroom door and run a hand through my hair. Fuck, where did all that come from? What pent-up lust? What the hell, Weston?r />
But god, Kendra is fucking sexy. I have no idea how I missed it before.
She’s beautiful, and not in a fake, done-up way. She’s gorgeous stumbling out of her bedroom in the morning, making a beeline for her coffee maker. Her smile does weird things to me. And her body. I could destroy that body in a hundred different ways.
There’s one of her tank tops and a pair of panties on the floor. She must have left them there when she took a shower. Careful of my ribs, I lean down and pick up her panties, then bring them to my nose and inhale. My eyes roll back in my head. Oh fucking hell, she smells good.
I can imagine that smell all over me. In my bed, on my sheets. Tasting it on my fingers. Licking it off my lips. I need to stop. I drop the panties back where I found them.
But I can’t get the image of fucking the shit out of Kendra out of my mind.
12
Kendra
There’s a car I don’t recognize in the driveway when I pull into my spot. Looks expensive—a silver Audi this time. Did Weston get a new car? I don’t know how he could have. I’ve been gone for hours watching Charlotte and he doesn’t have a way to get around.
I head inside and put down my purse. Weston’s in his room, and I’m worn out from being on kid duty for half the day. This calls for comfies.
After changing into a tank top and pajama pants, I head down the hall and knock a few times on Weston’s half-open door.
“Come in.”
He’s sitting up in bed, a mess of file folders and paperwork spread out all over. Two more boxes are stacked on the chair in the corner.
“Hey, sorry to bug you, but there’s a car in the driveway,” I say. “Did you get a new one?”
“No, it’s my father’s.”
Holy shit, his dad? He’s hardly said a word about his father. I only know he exists because Caleb mentioned calling him after the accident. I glance around, like I could have missed another grown man in the room. “Is he around? Or did he just drop it off and leave?”
“Neither,” he says. “He had it sent over.”
“Oh. That was nice of him.”
“Mm.”
Okay, I guess we aren’t talking about his father. I take a few steps into the room. “What is all this stuff?”
“Work,” he says. “I had it couriered over this morning.”
“Are they patient records?”
“No, financial records.” He blows out a breath and drops the file. “There have been some discrepancies in the accounts that I’ve needed to check into. Since I can’t see patients yet, I figured I’d go through these. But I’m not even sure what I’m looking for.”
I sink down onto the edge of the bed. “Can I help?”
He looks up at me for the first time since I walked in and holds my gaze. His gray eyes are intense and suddenly I’m very aware that I’m sitting with him in his bedroom. I haven’t been in here a lot, other than to bring him food or a glass of water when he first got home from the hospital. Lately he’s been able to do more things for himself, so he hasn’t needed me as much.
“No,” he says. “But thanks.”
“Sure.” I’m feeling a little weird, and he’s obviously busy, but I find myself casting around for an excuse to stay. God, Kendra, what’s that about? You don’t need to hang out in Weston’s bedroom.
He starts shuffling the papers and files into a stack. “I’ve been at this for hours. I need a break.”
His cast makes it awkward, so I crawl across the bed and help. He doesn’t react—at first he complained a lot when I helped him with things, but after a while, he quit resisting. Now I just try not to make a big deal out of it. I get them in a neat pile and he moves them onto the floor on the other side of the bed. I notice he doesn’t wince.
Thinking about his injuries, my eyes travel to his midsection. He’s wearing a shirt today, but of course no pants. I glance down at his muscular thighs. He has the perfect amount of leg hair—enough to be manly, but not so much that he looks like an animal. His body is basically amazing.
I swallow hard and tear my eyes away. Fortunately, he’s busy plugging in his tablet and setting it on his nightstand. He lays his earbuds on top.
“What are you always listening to with those?” I ask. “Music?”
His eyes meet mine again and his mouth quirks in a smile. “You’re curious tonight.”
Normally when he says something like that, there’s a sharpness in his tone. He’s annoyed, or being sarcastic. But this voice is completely different. There’s a hint of humor in it, like he’s teasing.
That’s when I realize I’m sitting in the middle of his bed. Not near the edge, or the foot. Center.
My heart is a little jumpy, but I smile back at him. “Sorry, I’m just wondering. You wear them a lot.”
“Once in a while it’s music,” he says. “But I listen to audiobooks.”
“Do you?” That’s an interesting surprise.
He shifts so he’s partially facing me. “Yeah. I’m…” He pauses. “I’m dyslexic, so listening is easier.”
I freeze for a second, afraid to even breathe. He just shared something personal with me. He almost never does that.
“I’m impressed.”
“By what?”
“You,” I say. “That must have made med school even more difficult.”
He shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. I can read. It just takes me longer.”
I think it is a big deal, but I’m not going to press him about it. “Well, I read a lot, so let me know if you need any recommendations.”
He smirks. “The sexual adventures of Max and Cherry might not be quite what I’m looking for.”
I laugh. “Stop. That was for a client. Although yeah, I read books like that. But I read a lot of stuff. I just finished a really good one about a serial killer.”
“Sex and serial killers,” he says. “Kendra is not the woman I thought she was.”
God, what is he doing? Is he flirting with me? If he is, I’m totally responding to it; my body is responding to it. My tummy is fluttery and my core tingles.
“I guess I’m full of surprises.”
“Yes, you are.”
I’m going to positively melt under that gaze of his. My heart is beating so fast, and I don’t know if it’s butterflies or a flock of birds that just took up residence in my stomach. I need to defuse this. Fast.
“So are you sure you’re feeling okay?” I reach out and touch my hand to his forehead, like I’m checking for a fever. “You’re in such a good mood tonight.”
He smiles again and I snatch my hand away. Bad move. Touching him is not going to defuse anything.
“Very funny,” he says. “Since when are you such a comedian?”
“Have you met me?” I ask. “I’m hilarious.”
“Your pants are what’s hilarious,” he says.
I glance down at my pajama pants. “Hey man, this is what it’s like to live with a woman. You have to deal with me in my natural state.”
“Your natural state involves fuzzy polka dot pants?”
“Yes,” I say, giving him a smug smile. “Yes, it does.”
He shifts and winces, rubbing the back of his neck.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, fine,” he says. “Neck hurts from sitting here reading all those damn files.”
Don’t do it, Kendra. Don’t offer to rub his back. “Here, let me rub it for you.” Oh god, you did it.
He scoots forward so I can get behind him. He’s a lot taller than me, even sitting, so I have to get on my knees. I start kneading my thumbs into the taut muscles at the base of his neck. This close, I can smell him—clean and masculine. I work my hands across his upper back and he relaxes against me. I lean my thighs against him, which puts my hips—and certain other areas—in contact with his warm body.
His back moves up and down as he takes a deep breath. I keep rubbing, keenly aware of the heat building in my core. I’ve never been this close to him before. Half
my body is touching his. His head droops forward a little and he makes a low noise in his throat. I pinch my lower lip between my teeth, biting back an answering moan.
I feel him turning to liquid at my touch. I stare at the back of his neck, imagining my lips there. What would he do if I leaned in quietly and kissed him? Slid my tongue across his skin. Nipped at his ear.
Oh my god, what am I doing? He’d turn around and ask me what the fuck is going on, that’s what he’d do. It would be humiliating.
My hands start to ache from the effort of rubbing his muscular back, but it’s hard to make myself stop. After all, he is one of the sexiest men I’ve ever laid eyes on. I thought that the first time I saw him. Sure, he can be an asshole sometimes, but when you get to know him, he’s not half bad.
In fact, he’s a lot less than half bad. And the part that is bad… I bet it’s the right kind of bad. The kind that would make me be bad.
Fuck, there I go again. I need to get out of here.
I stop, hesitating for a moment with my palms splayed out across his back.
He straightens and glances at me over his shoulder. “Thanks. That felt really good.”
I can think of more ways to make you feel good.
No, Kendra. Stop it.
Please let my voice sound normal. “Good. I hope it helps.”
He moves his head around, stretching his neck and I take the opportunity to get out from behind him. Since I’m already moving, I do the smart thing and get off his bed. Although, god, his sheets smell like him. I could bury myself in them and roll around.
Out, Kendra. Get out while you still can.
“Okay, well, I’m kinda tired, so I think I’ll go to bed. Maybe read or something.”
He nods. “Good night, then.”
“Good night.”
I leave his room, shutting the door behind me before I lose all sense and do something incredibly stupid. Like kiss him.
What is my problem? Kiss Weston? That would be a ridiculous thing to do. There’s nothing wrong with admitting he’s attractive. Okay, he’s more than attractive; he’s spectacular. But he’s not the type of guy I need in my life. I want something with a future—maybe even a forever. I’m not looking for a hookup or a few nights of sexual adventure. Granted, with him, I’m sure it would be incredible. And if I thought he might want me, it would be very tempting.
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