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“Yes, ma’am.”
After the ball drops, I head back home.
Jim was already passed out in his recliner with a snoring Wilbur, so Leo and I whispered Happy New Year to not disturb them.
I place Wilbur in his crate when I reach my bedroom, and he curls up in a ball and passes back out. James should be home in an hour, and he said he’d come by to give me my first kiss of the new year.
Just the thought of his lips has me fanning myself. My mind has been in the gutter all day thanks to our conversation earlier. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this turned on. The medication I’m on tends to lower my libido, but more than that, I haven’t been interested in being with anyone. I was too busy focusing on my health to put work into being with anyone else.
But James has awakened my dormant sexuality.
“Might as well put it to good use.” I flop onto my bed and open the journal I’ve been using to jot down ideas for the book I’m working on. Maybe if I write a steamy scene, I’ll be able to get it out of my system.
Bad idea.
The more I write, the more turned on I get. My skin is hot and my heart is racing. I’m tempted to slip my hand into my shorts and relieve this ache, but I want to finish writing the scene before I find my release.
I left the door unlocked for James so he can let himself in when he gets here, but I’m so engrossed in my scene, I don’t hear anything until he walks into my room.
Flustered, I flip the journal closed and jump up to greet him. “Hi, you’re here. How was work?”
“Fine.” He pauses. “You okay?”
I let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah, why?”
“I don’t know. You look weird.”
My nose scrunches. “Uh, thanks?”
“No, I mean something’s off.”
Oh, I was just fantasizing about you in my journal. No big deal.
“I’m good.”
He arches a brow and scans the room. “Were you sleeping?”
I shake my head.
“What were you doing before I got here?”
My eyes dart to the notebook on my pillow. “Nothing.”
Nothing besides picturing you touching me.
His eyes narrow. “You were sitting here doing nothing?”
I hike a shoulder. “Yeah. What’s wrong with a little quiet time?”
His eyes flick to my bed. “Why do you keep looking over there?”
“No reason.”
Then he spots the notebook. “What’s that?”
“A notebook. It’s filled with paper. People in modern societies use it to write in.”
He smirks. “Yes, I know what a notebook is, smart-ass. I mean, what is that notebook in particular?”
