Finding Ms. Write

by Jae

  A flush crept up the woman’s neck. She shuffled her feet. “Sorry. I couldn’t help overhearing part of your conversation. You should call him back before he thinks you’re not interested.”

  “Her,” Mara said automatically.

  The stranger shrugged. “Then call her back.” She nodded down at the phone on her outstretched hand.

  Mara stared back and forth between the woman’s face and the phone for a moment longer before hastily reaching for the device. “Thank you.”

  Usually, she relied on speed dial, but there were two phone numbers she knew by heart—the pizza delivery service in her neighborhood and Hayley’s cell.

  Quickly, she typed in the number and lifted the phone to her ear.

  It rang for quite a while.

  Just when Mara thought Hayley’s voice mail would pick up, that familiar sexy voice came through the line.

  “Yes?” Hayley sounded cautious.

  “It’s me…Mara. Sorry, my battery died. Did you…um…hear what I said before the damn thing gave up the ghost?”

  “No. The last thing I heard you say was no.” For a few moments, no sound at all filtered through the phone, as if Hayley had even stopped breathing. “What else did you say?”

  Mara smiled. “Well, since you want me to write a romantic suspense, I’ll need a little more help with the book than I usually do.”

  “Of course. What kind of help do you need?” Still that cautious tone. “Brainstorming murder methods, as you said?”

  “No. I can handle those. But I might need a little help researching the romantic part of the novel.” Mara clutched the cell phone so tightly that her knuckles blanched and the woman next to her gave her an alarmed look.

  “Oh,” Hayley said after a while. “Sure. I mean, that’s what we editors are there for, right? To help with whatever you need.”

  Mara was about to agree. It was easier to keep joking and hide behind a lighthearted tone and their familiar roles. But then she paused. Unlike her manuscripts, life couldn’t be revised afterward if you didn’t get it right the first time. And she wanted to get this right more than she’d wanted anything in a very long time. “Hayley?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m not talking to the editor.”

  “I know. It wasn’t the editor who agreed to help you with the romantic part of your novel.”

  Mara stood still for a moment, then hopped up and down like a preschooler who’d just been promised a visit to the zoo. “So you’ll have coffee with me?”

  “Like I said: it’s a date.”

  A wave of giddiness swept over Mara, and now she could no longer resist teasing Hayley just the tiniest bit. “Shouldn’t it be ‘as I said’?”

  “Smartass.”

  Yes, but I’m your smartass, Mara wanted to answer, but it was a little too soon for that. If she was patient, she might be able to say it one day.

  After all, they were an award-winning writer and an experienced editor. Between them, they should be able to create the perfect happy ending.

  FAUX PAS

  BY ANASTASIA VITSKY

  “I can’t get the hook unfastened,” Ally called from the bedroom. She rolled her right arm backward and squeezed her shoulder blades together in an effort to reach the tiny metal fasteners in the back of her undergarment. “Ow!” She’d put so much effort into this surprise, but the stupid clothing threatened to defeat her. Who knew sexy could be this difficult?

  In the living room, a rat-tat-tat on their battered desktop computer signaled her wife hard at work. “Three thousand words!” Gia crowed. “I’m going to finish this chapter tonight!”

  “I got a new panty and bra at Victoria’s Secret this afternoon.” Ally tried to make her voice seductive as she stroked the satin cups, pulled her hair to one side, and propped a bare heel on the edge of their mattress. She’d bathed and dabbed her favorite green-tea perfume behind each ear. Having a wife work from home had sounded great until Ally realized her wife never left work. Not even for a fifty-percent-off lingerie set Gia had admired for weeks. She’d complained about Ally’s worn-out bras but couldn’t be bothered to see the replacements.

  “Shh…” Random profanities echoed through the still, unfriendly house. “No! You can’t do this to me! The wheel of death! I didn’t save my last chapter! Let me smash you against the wall and whack your brains out.”

  “Rather inelegantly expressed.” Ally sashayed to the doorway, wondering whether she should abandon her plans for the night. Nothing attracted Gia’s attention during NaNoWriMo. “I wanted impact play, but if you prefer to take me…”

  “What?” Dark shadows under Gia’s eyes made her look like a confused panda. “If I don’t get this chapter back to my editor by tomorrow morning…oh. Oh, my.” She leaned back in her chair, eyes widening at Ally with her red-satin glory.

  “That’s what we’ve come to? Oh, my?” Ally straddled the chair and bent over to wiggle her bottom in Gia’s face.

  “What, are you going to twerk?” Gia laughed and patted the tiny bit of fabric.

  “Read, Ms. Writer,” Ally ordered, trying to ignore the churning in her stomach. She was biting off more than she could chew, but she couldn’t back down now. She’d spent too long poring over Gia’s scenes of perfectly choreographed, mutually satisfying sex. Gia’s characters always began with a long, sizzling spanking that led to torn clothes and record numbers of successive orgasms.

  Ally had considered her strategy before deciding on the direct approach. Emblazoned across the back of her panties were the words, Spank me.

  “What? I’m not going to…” Gia dropped her voice. “Spank you. That’s crazy.”

  “You write it,” Ally pointed out.

  “Because it sells! No one reads plain erotica anymore. It’s all toys and…”

  Bored with marketing talk, Ally braced her hands on the dark gray carpet and gyrated in what she hoped was a suggestive manner. Instead, she bumped into the armrest and pushed the wheeled chair toward the desk. Coffee rained across her brand-new finery, and she screeched. “Ow! What the—”

  “Are you okay?” Gia jumped to her feet.

  Ally ran to the bathroom and stripped the soaked thong away from her abused flesh. That’s one way to get a sore bottom. She walked into their enormous surround shower and turned the spigot to cold. “Yikes!” Gooseflesh rippled her skin as she adjusted the temperature to a more tolerable level. “I’m not okay!”

  Gia stood in the doorway, a smile playing over her lips. She dabbed a bath towel at the coffee stains on her jeans.

  “Don’t get the towels dirty!” Ally shook the water from her eyes and held out her hand to Gia. The big surprise hadn’t worked, but she might as well try to salvage the evening. “C’mon.”

  “I have to write…”

  “Your computer’s frozen, anyway. How long has it been since we showered together?” She squirted a dollop of foaming coconut body wash onto her left hand and held it out.

  “I—”

  “You know you want to.” She smiled as Gia shucked off her jeans and sweatshirt in one fluid motion.

  Or tried to. The hem of her pants caught on the corner of their wicker hamper, and Gia teetered like a one-legged stork trying to extricate herself. Poor Gia, graceful in her stitchery of words and yet awkward in real life. Gia’s heroines kissed with perfect timing and never tripped on their own clothes.

  Ally stepped out of the shower to give Gia assistance. She bent ever so slightly and lifted Gia’s chin. What were the most inappropriate places and ways to kiss? She brushed Gia’s hair back with her other hand, drawing the edge of her thumb along the edge of her jaw. Lifting Gia’s hand to her lips, she interlaced their fingers and dropped a sweet, chaste kiss on the tips of the knuckles. Her gaze never left Gia’s face. Ally poked out th
e tip of her tongue between her lips and drew Gia’s hand to nuzzle next to her cheek.

  “You should put that tongue to work,” Gia breathed.

  “You’ve told me not to promise what I won’t deliver,” Ally said primly. Shock clouded Gia’s eyes for a second time, and Ally wriggled her naked buttocks in invitation. “First you say no tongue. Now you want more tongue. What’s a girl to do?” She kissed the tips of her own fingers and touched them to the softness of Gia’s lips.

  “I’m…you’re…” Gia raised her own hand as if to recreate the sensation of fingers on mouth.

  “Spank me,” Ally begged, turning around. She spread her legs and placed her palms against the bathroom wall, allowing the warm water to rush over her body. When Gia didn’t comply, Ally raised her voice. “Hurry up.” Gia was supposed to clap a solid but feminine hand against Ally’s nether regions, spanking to a crisp pink and igniting unbelievable levels of passion. Ally longed for sheer animal instinct to overtake her placid, soft-spoken wife.

  Instead, Gia took the pale pink shower puff, squirted it with body wash, and rubbed the luxurious foam over every crevice of Ally’s body.

  She squirmed, willing Gia’s fingers to explore between her legs, but Gia washed efficiently before turning around and handing her own puff to Ally. Ally bit back irritation as she returned the favor. How much more direct can a person get? The panties said it, I said it…what else can I do?

  Gia handed Ally a sea-green towel and wrapped a yellow one around herself. “Here you go.”

  Ally snapped the towel with a grunt and stalked into the hallway. Puzzled, Gia squeezed excess water from her hair. It couldn’t be PMS, but why else would Ally be so touchy? Sure, they had quarreled in all of the usual ways during their courtship, engagement, and early marriage. Gia’s inability to keep to a schedule and Ally’s need for romantic displays had derailed many would-be dates, but seven years of married life had softened their rough edges. They’d gone through all of the major arguments often enough to skip to the shorthand version. You know I hate that. We’ve been through this already! What they lost in passion, they gained in comfort. Had they become too comfortable? Complacent?

  Gia finished toweling off and ran a comb through her short, stiff boy cut. What would Lara, her current protagonist, do in this situation? Dashing fashion model by day and sex kitten by night, Lara Alexander seduced any number of women with her kinky prowess and bottomless toy bag. Gia couldn’t horrify her sweet wife with the tricks Lara used to disarm angry lovers. Ally tolerated Gia’s naughty writing, but they both agreed not to talk about it. Who wanted to live up to a twenty-something heroine with perfect buttocks and an acrobatic tongue? Lara was everything Gia was not, bold and rippling with sexiness. Brave Lara would take control of the scene without a second thought. Timid Gia would have to do her best without any super powers.

  Stepping into the bedroom, where Ally was pulling on a denim skort, Gia cleared her throat. “Uh. Do you want to…you know? Have sex?” Smooth, Gia. Real smooth. That’s sure to get you lucky.

  Her fully clothed wife whipped around, hope and anger fighting for dominance on her face. “Really? Now? Not when we were…”

  Ah, yes. Showering together. Gia could have smacked her forehead. No wonder Ally had gotten irritated. She should have remembered Gia needed neon signs to pick up on the romantic cues. Wasn’t the point of marriage not needing to read unspoken requests? “It’s hard to do it there.” Lame excuse, idiot. Are you a smut writer or not? “It’s too slippery. Wet.” She cringed. Lusty Lara wouldn’t be that obvious. She’d have a snappy, witty comeback to regain control of the situation. But how could Gia follow her protagonist’s example without sounding crass? “I mean the floor.”

  Ally’s cheeks turned pink. “There’s something we could try here.” She rummaged in a bureau drawer and took out a manila envelope. It was the same envelope she’d smuggled away when Gia asked about it.

  So that’s why Ally had been so secretive about the mail! What had she ordered? As the white receipt fluttered to the floor and Ally took out the object, Gia didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Ally held a cheerful plastic handle that sprouted a bundle of pink and white cords, like the fluttering ribbons on Gia’s first banana seat bike.

  “But…you don’t…” Gia shook her head. Ally hated toys. For seven years, Gia had nearly gotten carpal tunnel from Ally’s demand to have “real” sex or none at all. Toys are real. Aren’t they? And now Miss Ally herself had taken the plunge.

  Ally blushed even brighter. “Lara uses a flogger. Why don’t we?”

  Gia’s own blush must have matched Ally’s. “I thought you didn’t read my books!”

  Ally twirled the pink flogger in her hands. “I thought if I’m a book widow, I might as well learn about the other women in your life.” She grinned, all irritation gone. Good old Ally, never one to hold a grudge. “I didn’t know what kind to get, and some cost more than our monthly grocery bill. I got this flogger for a few dollars on Etsy. It will be okay, don’t you think? Lara’s was purple, but color shouldn’t matter. Right?”

  Gia’s head spun. “It’s dangerous,” she protested. How would she know about technique? She’d never used spanking toys in real life, but her tireless research had brought up enough information to write convincingly. Come to think of it, she had never admitted her lack of experience to Ally. There was no need when they never discussed the bestselling books that paid their monthly mortgage.

  “How do you use it?” Ally held out the flogger, and Gia couldn’t think how to reply without admitting her ignorance. Ally gave her a hopeful grin. “Lara has her women touch their toes. Should I do that?”

  Her Ally, bent over in submission? Stunned, Gia nodded. As much as the kink scene didn’t appeal to her, she had always been curious. Her first girlfriend had insisted on vanilla sex on scheduled days of the week, and Ally was her second. Ever since a mommy porn book had taken the publishing world by storm, Gia had incorporated kinky elements to her stories for business purposes rather than pleasure. It was smart marketing to follow the trends, not a sign of her own perverted desires. At least, that’s what she told herself as she spent hours scouring online fetish sites and chat rooms.

  The flogger felt more like a child’s toy than a real implement. She’d had a ribbon streamer as a child, a plastic handle with a long ribbon she could twirl. This felt much the same but shorter. What harm could an innocent plaything cause? As far as Gia could tell, the worst a flogger could do was brush limply against the buttocks when not given the correct flick of the wrist. She might embarrass herself, but she wasn’t likely to hurt her Ally.

  Ally bent at the waist, grunted, and spread her feet apart. “How about if I touch my knees? I don’t think this thing about touching my toes will work. Maybe I should start yoga again.”

  Gia had to remember safety above all else. She had read exhortations to maintain safety protocol. What were they, again? Safe, sane, and consensual? Ally asking for it meant the flogging would be consensual, but safe? Gia had no idea what she was doing. Sane? No way.

  “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” she began, but Ally bounced on her feet.

  “Bet you’re too chicken. You can write kink, but you can’t do it for real.”

  What could Gia say in rebuttal? Nothing. She opened her mouth to agree, but instead Lusty Lara’s voice came out. “That will cost you extra. Bare your bottom and spread those cheeks.”

  Shocked, Gia bit her tongue. Ally would run away screaming. Maybe she’d file for a divorce and cite spousal battery. She’d out Gia to their neighborhood, and all of their mutual friends would shun her as a wife-beater.

  Then Ally lowered her shorts and panties, and Gia forgot everything else. How long had she lived with this gorgeous woman? How long had they had relegated sex as something to squeeze in between oil changes and dental appointmen
ts? She stepped forward and ran her hand over the sweet, cool flesh. Ally trembled beneath her touch.

  “You never talked to me like that before,” she whispered. “Like you own me.”

  Were those tears in her voice?

  Ally wanted an alpha lover, did she? Lusty Lara’s book exploits would be hard to match, but Gia would do her best. What would Lara say to put a woman in the mood? Oh, yes. “This will hurt,” Gia warned. She felt like a fraud, but Ally gasped and bounced in response. Keep going. “Hold still, or I’ll flog that naughty ass until you remember to whom you belong.”

  It was corny. Ridiculous. They didn’t use coarse language with each other. But Ally moaned, and the scent of her arousal matched Gia’s own. “Hurry up,” Ally begged.

  Gia raised the silly child’s toy, took aim, and flicked the flogger backward to gain downward momentum. That much she remembered from reading. What she hadn’t remembered was the gilt-plated wall sconce right above her head. Clunk. The falls of the flogger snarled around the fixture and brought it clear off the mounting. Crash. Oops. Lusty Lara never mis-aimed, and she certainly didn’t destroy home furnishings. Well, not unless a villain needed to be decimated. “Sorry!”

  “Are you okay?” Ally jumped up. “Did you—”

  “I guess we shouldn’t be so close to the wall.” Determined not to let Ally down, Gia shoved the sconce toward its mounting. “Bend over. Now,” she growled, trying to channel Lara once more. Does Lara ever feel this stupid? I should give her self-doubt sometime. Humanize… Stop it! This is what got you in trouble in the first place! See, now you waited too long and Ally’s going to argue. What would Lara say? Quick! “Take the licking,” she offered. “Or I’ll lick you.”

  Ally dove to rest her hands on her knees, sticking her bottom out like a lascivious baseball catcher. “If you don’t take down all the decorations first.”