“Five hundred more words.”
I glance at her screen and suddenly crack up.
“I don’t remember agreeing to a sex scene here.”
“Well,” she tosses her hands up, letting them slap her thighs when they drop. “Sex isn’t always planned okay? And people get turned on at random moments of their day. Hence, he just told her he has to go back to the East Coast and the thought of him leaving made her go crazy.”
“I like that angle. Feel free to finish the scene.”
“Are you going to move?” she asks coyly.
I shake my head. “No.”
“You’re just going to watch me write?”
I volley my head. “I was thinking we could test your focus.”
I grab her chair by the arm and yank it toward me. She gasps, but quickly pulls it together when she’s right in front of me and I lean down until our lips are just a brush away from each other. “Write out what you want him to do to her, and I’ll do it to you at the same time.”
She guffaws. “Yeah, okay.”
I raise a brow in challenge.
“You’re serious?” she asks.
“When it comes to touching you in any form, I’m dead serious.”
I press my lips to hers, trapping her lip between my teeth gently before I pull away.
The smallest whimper comes from her.
“Finish the scene, Natalie,” I tell her and get to my knees in front of her.
She closes her eyes as I run my hands up her legs, inching her flowing skirt higher and higher. I hear her inhale when one hand dips in between her thighs and swipes against her underwear.
“Tell me what to do.”
“I want you to …”
“Write it as you tell me.”
She groans, moving the chair to face her computer. I move with her and when I hear the click of the keyboard, I sneak one finger under her thong and press it against her clit.
“Fuck,” she breathes, but she keeps writing.
“Come on, Dove. I need you to tell me what to do next.”
“Lift my hips to remove my underwear.”
I do as I’m told.
“Now scoot me down to the edge of my chair.”
Again, I follow directions.
“Spread my legs.”
Done.
