“What’s that?”
She smiles to herself. “You’ll see.”
As we return to the boardwalk, I pause by the back door of my shop, leaning against the wall. “What do you plan on doing the rest of the day?”
“Take a nap, possibly go for a run if I’m feeling up to it.” I smile, she’s been running more often lately, something I know used to be therapeutic for her when she was younger, and it makes me happy that she’s finding it again. “Then I’ll probably write until you get home.”
“How’s that going?”
“Good, actually.” She bites her lip. “I’ve been…stuck on a few things, but otherwise, I’m really enjoying it.”
“Stuck on what?” I push open the door and nod my head toward the shop, motioning for her to follow me inside. I still have a while before my first appointment of the day arrives, and I’m happy that she’s offering to talk about her writing with me. I don’t want to cut the conversation short.
Elena doesn’t discuss her story much when she’s in the midst of it. When she’s brainstorming, or stuck, she opens up more. Talking it out seems to help her wade through the blocks she’s facing. Over the last month or so, she’s hardly mentioned it, but I’ve seen how much time she spends on her laptop, especially when she stays up late in bed beside me on nights she doesn’t have to work the next day.
It’s given me a lot of hope, that after so many years, she’s finally finding herself through words again. I didn’t want to ask her about it and risk ruining her groove.
As we enter my office, I shut the door behind us, and she props herself up on the edge of my desk. “I’m writing a romantic comedy.” She snorts at the way my brows rise at the information. It’s the last thing I would’ve expected from her. “The gist of it is that my main character accidentally matches with a serial killer on a dating app, and during their first date she begins to realize she’s his next victim, because she’s a total true crime junkie.”
I nod. “Of course, she is. So, she saw all the signs.”
“Right.” Elena swings her feet back and forth, biting down a laugh. “So, in self-defense, she ends up actually killing the guy. Right in her own kitchen. And who’s to walk in on her in the act?”
“I don’t know…the town detective?”
“No! Her brother’s best friend—who happens to be an investigative journalist, and the host of her favorite podcast,”she yelps with excitement. “So, anyway…he has to help her cover up the murder because he’s always been secretly obsessed with her, as is a requirement of romance novels.”
“Of course. Yes.” I smile with amusement.
“After they seemingly get away with murder, they realize that someone out there knows it was them, and is now blackmailing them for it. They have to try and figure out who, while keeping this huge secret, and of course…that’s going to make them fall in love.”
“I don’t know how you couldn’t fall in love with the person you bury bodies with, honestly.”
“They burn the body,” she adds matter-of-factly. “But, yeah, see? You get me.”
“I always get you, Little Vice,” I rasp, moving to stand between her legs. “This all sounds great, so what are you struggling with?”
“Well…it’s not really the plot I’m struggling with. It’s more…something new I’d like to try, something that I’ve never written before, but I think these characters would be into…”
“Is that so?” I ask, my voice just above a whisper as I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
She shivers at the contact. “Yes,” Elena hisses. “And I just think I’d have a much easier time writing this one chapter if I…” She bites her lip, lashes fluttering as she places a hand against my chest, nudging me back a step.
Elena slides off my desk, turning her back to me. Her legs seem a mile long beneath her short, black denim skirt, the hem riding high on her thighs as she bends over.
“Lift my skirt, Augustus,” she whispers.
I immediately comply, uncaring that we’re in the office of my business. She’s bent over my desk like a wet dream come true, and if she asks me to fuck her right now, I’ll do that too.
I slide my hands up the backs of her thighs, gripping the denim and shoving it over her tight, perky ass. She’s wearing a good-for-nothing black G-string, the thin strap banding around her hips, but what steals my fucking breath from my lungs and causes me to sputter is the bright purple jewel twinkling back at me from between her ass.
“God-fucking-damn.” I bite out the word with a guttural groan.
“I’ve been getting myself ready for you,” she rasps on a shallow breath. “I want you to take it tonight. Show me what it’s like.”
My cock springs to instant life at the vision below me, and I can’t stop myself from taking her flesh in each of my hands and spreading her wide.
“I’m fucking throbbing, Elena,” I grit through clenched teeth. “How can you possibly expect me to go through the rest of my day, knowing this pretty little ass is going to take my cock later?”
