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This time she just held it in her hands, gently swirling the almost full little glass. But she stared down at it like it held all the secrets in the world. “You got the bottle. These two shots are mine.”
I picked up the bottle from the table and clinked it with her still full glass. “Well then. Cheers.”
I drank. She still stared.
And said nothing.
We sat there in silence for a few minutes. Me petting Pongo and her staring at her shot glass. It was weird at first, but when she didn’t say anything about today, I relaxed. Something about her company—or maybe it was the tequila—calmed me.
Finally, she sighed. “I’m stuck.”
I blinked. She was still staring at the shot glass. Granted, she wasn’t moving, but she didn’t look stuck to me. How many shots had she had? Damn, how many had I drank? “What?”
“With my screenplay. I’m stuck. Usually, I talk this kinda thing out with my writing friends, but they’re not exactly talking to me. Or I’m not talking to them. It’s…whatever. I don’t want to talk about that right now.” She set her still full glass down next to the empty one and turned slightly toward me. “How soon is too soon for a sex scene?”
I choked for a second and had to sit up to cough. Putting the tequila bottle down with a heavy clunk, I waved off her attempts to pat my back. “Sorry. I just swallowed wrong.” I coughed again before clearing my throat. “There aren’t any hard and fast rules when it comes to sex scenes. I’d say it depends on the story and your genre.”
“That’s what I’m worried about. I’m only at the midpoint, so I think it might be too early. Action adventures typically only have one love scene, if that.”
“Not true. I thinkTrue Lieshas at least three or four. I’m pretty sureMr. & Mrs. Smithhas like five or six.”
“Yeah, but those are both movies about relationships—the action adventure is arguably secondary to their marriages. I’m writing a hidden treasure adventure. How many sex scenes were inNational Treasure? Or any of theIndiana Jonesmovies?”
“I’d say there are at least one in each. Maybe. I don’t remember.” My head was starting to swim from both her questions and her amazing scent. I was no doubt destined to get an erection every time I was around a biscotti cookie after this relationship. “But the point is, what is right for your story? When does it make sense in your screenplay, for your characters and their stakes?”
My eyes kinda glazed over when she licked her bottom lip while she considered my question. I could easily imagine her licking other things. Her corruptible, girl-next-door vibe had been driving me crazy for days. I loved a woman who didn’t have a façade. It was hard to come by in my world, and Sophia had it in spades. Her every thought played across her gorgeous face. It was fascinating to watch.
I’d fantasized more than a few times about what she’d look like splayed across my bed. What kind of sounds would she make when I played with her breasts? Would her breath hitch or would she moan? Was she vocal? Or shy?
I had to shift a little in place as my erection pressed painfully against my fly.
Dammit. She was off limits.
My dick didn’t agree with my brain.
“…sexual tension.”
I sighed in relief. “So you’re feeling it too?”
Sophia’s mouth dropped open. Her eyes darted to the side and her cheeks flushed red. Her teeth audibly snapped as she closed her mouth. Finally she whispered, “I was talking about the sexual tension in my screenplay.”
Right. Shit. We’d been talking about her writing while I’d been fantasizing about every inch of her laid out gloriously naked on my white sheets. I cleared my throat. “Right. Sorry. I think maybe I had one too many shots of tequila.”
Sophia eyed the mostly full bottle but didn’t call me on my lie.
Maybe the whole messy day had affected me more than I wanted to think.
But that didn’t justify me acting like a tool and not listening to her tonight. I’d promised I’d help her with her writing, and instead I was thinking with my dick. “I, uh—”
“But you’re right.” Sophia cut me off before taking a deep breath and turning slightly to face me. “I feel it too—the sexual tension between us.”
“You do?”
Sophia laughed lightly while still studying the shot glass in her hands. “Honestly, I’m a little shocked you feel it. I thought it was only on my side. I mean, you’re all you and I’m…just me.”
I snorted. “I’ve spent a stupid amount of time thinking about you and all your hotness spread out on my bed. You are gorgeous and caring, and you smell so fucking good. Seriously, what is that? A perfume or something?”
“I don’t wear perfume.”
