Page 14 of Down and Dirty Celebrity Edition

Chapter Nine

Amy couldn’t believe this was happening. In fact, she would’ve thought she was dreaming if a rock wasn’t pushing sharply into her gluteus medius. Of all the ways she’d imagined breaking through her writer’s block, accidentally ending up chest to chest and mouth to mouth with Savannah Rigsby, of all people, would never even have cracked the top ten thousand.

“Is this faster for you?” Amy muttered, because, well, she couldn’t help herself. It was inevitable that their conversation would eventually lead back to that first encounter at Barnes & Noble, even if this was the most inopportune time imaginable.

Savannah pulled her mouth away just enough to say, “What are you talking about?”

“You told me that the pacing in my book, Outlasting Love, was like walking through wet cement,” Amy reminded her, swiping a strand of hair away from Savannah’s cheek.

“I said wading,” Savannah replied with a huff. “You, of all people, should know the difference. Now, please stop talking before we both realize this is a mistake.” She didn’t give Amy a chance to protest because she kissed her again, taking her bottom lip between her teeth. Amy obliged and deepened the kiss even further. She opened her mouth for Savannah’s tongue to glide in and smoothed her hands beneath Savannah’s top. Her skin was silky smooth and warmer than the sun. If Amy were writing the scene in one of her books, she would describe Savannah’s body as though someone had gathered every graceful line and elegant curve found in nature into one woman. She had the bend of a willow branch and the smooth sweep of a sand dune. Wow! Amy impressed even herself. She wanted to say the thought out loud, but she wouldn’t dare. She refused to risk the kiss when the very flow of her inspiration depended on it.

The other contestants slept obliviously at the opposite end of the beach, and the camera crew had retired to their tents somewhere behind the tree line. Beneath stars that hung like silver sequins pinned to the dark sky, Amy slid her fingers over Savannah’s sides to where the soft, tantalizing curve of her breasts began.

Savannah wasn’t wearing a bra, and Amy couldn’t be happier. Through the flimsy fabric of their pajama tops, Amy could feel Savannah’s perked nipples against her chest. She could feel the heat of Savannah’s legs as she straddled Amy’s right thigh, and she could feel Savannah’s want just as well as she could feel her own. This moment wasn’t just intoxicating; it was the exact kind of moment Amy had spent hours agonizing over at her keyboard, only a thousand times more vivid because she was actually the one living it.

“I want you so badly,” Amy muttered breathlessly when Savannah slid a hand down Amy’s thigh. She even instinctively opened her legs for her, hoping something more would come of it. There was nothing as erotic as being fingered while lying in the dark on some remote island in Brazil. Or wait, maybe there was because right then Savannah slipped her hand beneath Amy’s tank top and found her nipple. Amy gasped so loudly she could hear her voice echo off the rocks. The feel of her nipple being rolled between Savannah’s fingers was electric. It sent pulses all the way down to her clit. She pushed her hips forward against Savannah’s, seeking as much friction as she possibly could. And without talking, she begged Savannah to roll harder. Maybe even nibble if she felt like it. But she didn’t. Instead, Savannah let Amy’s nipple go and started kissing a line up Amy’s throat.

Amy moaned as Savannah’s lips made contact, and then she fanned her fingers across Savannah’s hips and happily lost her thumbs to the creases. Savannah’s cotton shorts were short, but Amy wished more than anything they were lying on a pile beside the rock. She tugged at the band, let it snap back, and forgot all about Savannah’s rule. “I need you to take off your clothes,” she muttered under her breath. “And then I need you to take off mine.”

There was a pause. Then Savannah climbed off Amy, and for a split second, she worried that she’d crossed the line. Maybe Savannah was more reserved than Amy had ever thought she’d be. But then, the next moment, Savannah’s thumbs were tugging at the waistband of Amy’s shorts, and soon enough, they were both naked.

Amy couldn’t get Savannah on top of her quickly enough. Their breathless huffs were so arousing that she felt a throb in her clit. She didn’t stop to consider what they might look like if someone spotted them. In the darkness, they were little more than two shadowy figures moving together like a single restless creature. She pulled Savannah’s right leg over her until Savannah straddled her stomach, then slid one hand across her toned abdomen to her chest.

When Amy’s fingertips made contact with Savannah’s nipple, they both moaned. It was so peaked and so hard that it could poke an eye out. Amy squeezed it gently between her fingers and with her other hand squeezed Savannah’s ass. She was just about to sit up and close her mouth over Savannah’s nipple when suddenly Savannah started moving. And not just moving. Grinding. Savannah leaned back until her hands planted firmly on the front of Amy’s thighs. Her hips were undulating slowly to the crash of waves. Amy couldn’t stop watching as Savannah dragged her center over and over Amy’s stomach.

Thank goodness Amy didn’t have night blindness. It would be an atrocity if she couldn’t see Savannah’s wet pussy as it glided over her stomach, over and over again.

Savannah’s hips moved faster. Then even faster. Amy hardly felt the pain of the rock digging into her lower back. She hardly cared that tomorrow she’d have to explain to ten other women why her back looked like it had been mauled by a bear when bears didn’t exist on the island. The pain was nothing compared to the throbbing in her clit because of Savannah’s body on top of her.

“I’m so close,” Savannah muttered, her head tilting back. Amy couldn’t see her eyes, but she knew they were closed. “Just a little...” Her voice trailed off just as Amy decided to finally participate. She dragged her thumb over Savannah’s exposed folds until she found that little bud of nerves that drove every woman mad. Then she pressed against it, rubbing over it like she was trying to erase an ink blot. Barely ten seconds later, Savannah clapped her hand over her mouth as a loud growl escaped her throat.

Amy’s chest bloomed with pride. Not only had she made Savannah Rigsby, the infamous book critic, orgasm so loudly that she had to literally smack a hand to her mouth, but her mind had become a saturated sponge with all the inspiration she needed for her next book.

Savannah slipped two fingers into Amy’s sex and pumped her hand. She then used the heel of her hand to press against Amy’s clit while Amy’s hips moved on instinct.

The next moment, Savannah’s mouth was on her nipple, her tongue swiping and licking. Where did that even come from? How was she even doing that on the rocks?

But Amy’s eyes were shut tight, the back of her head jutting into the rock as Savannah did things with her fingers Amy couldn’t possibly put into words. Less than a minute later, Amy’s body shook and shuddered as her orgasm ripped right through.

“Stop!” she called out and clenched her thighs tight around Savannah’s hand, wondering if a permanent impression of Savannah’s fingers would be left branded on her skin forever. Then she let her go and was just about to shout again, though she wasn’t sure what, when Savannah’s hand clamped around her mouth.

“You’re going to wake up the rest of camp,” Savannah muttered, her tone already telling Amy everything she needed to know. “Now put your clothes on and let’s get back before anyone notices we’re gone.”

Amy sat up, feeling incredibly dizzy. She caught sight of Savannah’s hands sweeping the rock in search of her clothes. When she found her top, she shrugged it over her head. “Are you going to say it was a mistake?” Amy asked, doing the same with her top. “Because it looks like you’re going to say that it was a mistake.”

“It was a mistake,” Savannah said firmly, pulling on her pants. “And I never make a mistake twice.”

But as Savannah turned her back, already inching toward the edge of the rock, Amy’s lips curved into a smile. Savannah could deny it all she wanted. She could think it was the worst mistake of her life, but Amy knew how the best stories worked. And this kind of thing usually led to the very best chapter.

THE FIRST THING VIOLA had ever said to Amy during her creative writing classes was that to write, you had to experience life. She couldn’t have been clearer. For Amy’s bestselling book, Spurred and Spanked, she’d gone to extreme lengths. After activating Bumble’s Travel Mode, she’d set her location to Stephenville, Texas, and swiped right on a brown-eyed horse wrangler and cattle hand called Maeve. That was how she’d ended up spending three weeks at the Copper Ridge Ranch. They’d spent hot afternoons wrangling stubborn heifers into the squeeze chute, drinking lukewarm beers on the tailgate of Maeve’s mud-splattered pickup, and stealing breathless kisses in the tack room behind the leather saddles. On the third day of Amy’s visit, they’d hooked up in the loft of the old timber barn while the midday sun sliced through the wooden slats. Amy had returned to Broken Arrow wiser than ever before, with spicy words leaking out of her every orifice.

Once again, Viola had been right.

Two nights ago, Amy had experienced what had to be the most inspirational night of her life. She couldn’t stop thinking about Savannah’s soft lips, her long, tender fingers, and the way they had pressed and explored. With the turquoise waves crashing in soft breakers against the sand and the humid breeze carrying the sweet scent of wild hibiscus, Amy was ready to write the scorching first chapter of her new book. Coming back to Outlast Her was the best thing she could have done. She just needed to iron out a few details. What better way to do that than to experience it all again? The only problem was that Savannah seemed intent on keeping a distance between them. How could Amy get more steamy scene inspiration if the inspiration was refusing to get even two feet from her?

“Have you heard the phrase, ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’?” Amy asked, wading out into the surf to where Savannah was doubled over, washing her clothes. “Because the more you try to avoid me, the more obsessed I’m going to become with you.” Amy wore a ribbed plum halter bikini top that squeezed her breasts so close together that the saleswoman at the boutique in the Rose District had promised it would earn her either a marriage proposal or a police warning. There was no way Savannah could resist. “You read romance books for a living... you know how it goes.”

Savannah didn’t look up immediately. She just straightened and then continued wringing water out of her shirt. Then, after what felt like a year, she looked Amy’s way. “It was a mistake, Amy,” she said, her voice barely carrying over the rush of the waves. Not that she needed to whisper; the cameramen were busy following Maya and Avery as they added a few modifications to the lean-to. “We both had too much to drink at the reward and we weren’t in our right minds. We weren’t thinking clearly.”