“Well, what do they do professionally?”
Abashed, Kate admitted, “Actually, I’m not sure.” She rushed to explain. “Normally I’d have a much better grasp of all these details by this point, but for some reason, with this story…” Snorting, she said, “They haven’t done a whole lot of talking yet. I thought maybe Molly would work in the medical field, but I just don’t know…” She sighed deeply. “Yeah, I don’t know.”
“What if Rose is Molly’s new boss at work? Or maybe it turns out that Molly recently started working at the assisted-living home where Rose’s aging mother stays and has a special knack with her. Perhaps the mother is suffering from the early stages of dementia, or some situation where Molly’s presence in her life has become a tremendous comfort. Rose is afraid to pursue a relationship when the consequences of it failing might actually damage her mother’s health and well-being.”
“Except they just can’t stop fucking,” Kate murmured, almost to herself. “Especially as they get to know each other better, and Molly helps Rose become closer with her mother, and Rose sees how kind and compassionate Molly is…” She tried to judge how the proposed storyline would fit with the mood of the story so far. “That’s a bit of a heavy plot for an erotic romance.”
“Maybe.” Erato shrugged. “Maybe not. Some readers want their erotica wrapped in fluff, but others enjoy a little real-world angst mixed in to the proceedings. Personally, I think it makes the moments of physical release the characters share have even more impact.”
She did enjoy tackling weightier stories—and she agreed, dramatic tension only heightened the stakes of the erotic scenes. Kate nodded slowly, trying to decide how readers would perceive Rose’s reluctance. Would she be seen as stubborn or afraid, merely making excuses to avoid happiness? Or would her gesture for her mother seem genuinely selfless? Unless…Kate clapped her hands as an alternative thought occurred. “Maybe it’s not Rose who tries to put the brakes on a potential relationship. Maybe it’s Molly who doesn’t want anything to complicate this very special relationship she has with Rose’s mother.”
“Oh, that’s good!” Erato kissed her on the jaw. “That’s perfect. Molly gets to be good and noble by insisting they not pursue a relationship, and meanwhile, Rose could wind up mending a complicated relationship with her mother simply because her interest in Molly keeps her coming to the home for more visits than they’ve had in years. Eventually Rose can make the case to Molly that her presence in their lives has already led to so much good for both her and her mother that she refuses to accept the idea that they can’t be together. After Rose’s mother gives them her blessing—and indeed, makes Molly promise she will be there to take care of Rose once she’s gone—Molly can surrender to the love she’s felt from nearly that first moment Rose rescued her from that bad blind date.”
“The end,” Kate murmured. She sat in silence for a few minutes after Erato stopped speaking, stunned that for the first time since she’d conceived of these characters, they now had a story—and a pretty decent one, at that. She’d given her publisher very few details about how the novel would play out, so she had the freedom to take it in this direction, if she wanted. Amazingly, she thought she might. “It’s not bad.”
“It’s good!” Erato brought their joined hands to her mouth and kissed Kate’s fingers. “In fact, it could even be great. The premise will give you plenty of opportunity to plumb deep emotion, which you do well. Even though it’s ultimately a story driven by all the great sex the characters are having—which leads them to the realization that they should be together, of course—”
“Of course.”
“If you take it in this direction, you’re offering readers the best of all worlds—hot sex within a story that has just enough realism to let them become genuinely emotionally invested. Plus, it will give you the opportunity to write more than just fucking, which I know you appreciate.”
Kate smiled. Not everyone realized that about her. “I do, as a matter of fact.”
“So what do you think?” Erato pulled her into a loose hug, reigniting the desire that had receded into the background during their talk. “Are you excited to write today?”
Now that she had a direction, she was feeling better about the prospect. “A little bit, yeah.”
“Just a little bit?”
Kate leaned forward until their foreheads touched. It had to be an illusion, but she could swear her muscles no longer ached. She felt ready for round three—or thirty, honestly, she’d lost count—with Erato and her magical fingers and tongue. “Do we have time for a quickie first?”
To her surprise, Erato shook her head sadly. “Not until you write at least two thousand words. Two thousands words, and you can have me any way you want me.”
Two thousand words? That was one-fifth of her total word count so far! Erato expected her to produce that in a single day?
She wasn’t sure if Erato could read her mind or if her face conveyed her total dismay, but before she could say a word, Erato raised a placating hand. “First of all, two thousand words is hardly unprecedented. You’ve written twice that in an afternoon, many times.”
“Not for years,” Kate grumbled.
“So? Clearly you’re capable of it. You’ve done it before, and now that you know where this story is going, you can do it again.”
Kate opened her mouth, ready with a fast comeback, then hesitated. Attitude was everything. She knew that. This book would never get written if she didn’t force away the pessimism that had been holding her back for far too long. “Two thousand words.” It would give her body time to recover, she supposed. And if Erato kept the beverages flowing, a chance to hydrate. “Okay. I’ll do my best.”
“I know you will.” Erato cuddled her closer. “As soon as you hit two thousand words, call for me. Deal?”
Clearly this was what Erato had meant when she’d referred to incentivizing word-count goals. It was a brilliant strategy, Kate had to admit. Already she knew she wouldn’t be wasting her time with kitten videos and social media today. Not when the reward for her hard work was more naked time with a veritable sexual goddess. Kate exhaled, then kissed Erato’s forehead before forcing herself out of bed to start her writing day. “Deal.”
Chapter Nine
Kate hit two thousand words shortly after four thirty in the afternoon. Two thousand one hundred and seventy, to be exact, at the precise moment she finally stopped to check her count. But rather than call on Erato to collect her reward, she decided to keep going—just a while longer, as long as the words were still flowing. It had been such a long time since they had, she was fearful of breaking the spell, even for an orgasm.
True to her word, Erato crept quietly into her office every so often, refilling her drink, bringing snacks, clearing away plates—all in absolute silence, so as not to disturb Kate’s progress. Often Kate didn’t even realize that Erato had come and gone until she noticed that her glass was full or a new piece of fruit or veggie sandwich had appeared next to her. Without any reason to get up except to take bathroom and stretching breaks, Kate found it much easier to focus on the work. For the first time in far too long, she was able to completely immerse herself in the story of Rose and Molly.
She finally stopped when her daily word count reached four thousand three hundred and eighty-two. It was nearly half what she’d written over the past eight months, all in one afternoon. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
On cue, Erato came into her office as soon as she turned away from her monitor. “Ready to call it a night?”
Kate glanced at the clock, shocked to see that it was just after ten o’clock. “What the hell happened?”
“You wrote all day. Literally.” Erato bounced up and down on the balls of her feet. “So exciting.”
It was, actually. Jubilant, Kate went to stand and realized that she hadn’t for at least two and a half hours. Her body was so stiff she nearly collapsed, and she had to catch herself awkwardly on the edge of her des
k. “Oh, wow.”
“Come on.” Erato crossed the room and put an arm around Kate’s waist, providing much-needed support. “I ran you a hot bath. Let’s get you in there and start relaxing your poor muscles.”
Hobbling down the hallway to her bedroom, Kate imagined that she must look about eighty years old. She felt it, too. “That sounds perfect.”
Once inside the bathroom, she allowed Erato to undress her as though she were a small child, lifting her arms and legs when asked, but not doing much else to help. Though she’d promised not to treat Erato like a slave, she desperately needed the assistance right now. Marathon sex followed by marathon writing was as brutal a regimen as she’d ever experienced.
Yet she felt absolutely divine.
“I’m proud of you,” Erato murmured as she helped Kate settle into the fragrant, steamy bubbles of the waiting bath. “You did twice what I asked. You even skipped the orgasm I promised.” Once she’d settled against the back of the tub, Erato gave her a long, lingering kiss. “Now that’s the sign of a real writer.”
Kate laughed. “I have a feeling most literary critics would disagree.” She exhaled, then moaned quietly as the impact of the hot water finally registered. “Oh hell yes, this is exactly what I need right now.”
“And this?” Out of nowhere, Erato produced an expertly hand-rolled cigarette.
A joint. Kate was simultaneously startled and amused. “You really do have everything covered, don’t you?”
With a flourish, Erato revealed the glass of wine in her other hand. “Choose your nightcap.”
Kate didn’t hesitate before plucking the joint from between Erato’s fingers. “Wine upsets my stomach.”
Smiling, Erato set down the glass and returned with a lighter. Kate leaned over the edge of the tub, touching the end of the paper to the flame and inhaling deeply. She took two hits in quick succession, then offered the lit blunt to Erato before once again relaxing in the water. Erato sat on the edge of the tub at her feet. She took a long drag, exhaling a tremendous cloud of smoke toward the ceiling.
“Good choice,” Erato said. “Cannabis encourages creativity.”
Already pleasantly buzzed, Kate giggled as she snatched the joint back. “You think everything encourages creativity.”
“No, not everything.” Erato dipped her hand into the water, swirling around idly. “Internet videos starring adorable kittens, for example.” She arched a stern eyebrow, leaving no doubt that she’d peeked into Kate’s browsing history at some point. “That rarely leads to good writing.”
Too stoned and happy to feel seriously chided, Kate let her eyes roam over Erato as her libido flickered to life. Though she hadn’t left the apartment all day—at least not to Kate’s knowledge—Erato was once again every inch the Greek goddess. She was dressed impeccably, straight from the silver screen. “Why don’t you take off that dress and get in here?”
Erato surprised her by shaking her head. Kate was momentarily stunned. Was she really going to be refused after delivering twice the required word count? But Erato softened the rejection with a tender smile. “You’re exhausted. Let’s finish smoking this thing and go to bed.”
“But I want you,” Kate whined. She handed over the joint with a mild pout. “And you still owe me one, right?”
Before she could cringe at her blatant manipulation, Erato plunged her free hand deep into the water and brushed against her inner thigh. Long fingers traced circles over her skin as Erato took another long hit. Instead of exhaling, she moved in close and pressed her mouth to Kate’s. Prepared for the maneuver, Kate parted her lips and inhaled as Erato exhaled, greedily accepting the fragrant smoke. Erato left her with a nip on her lower lip and a sultry smile.
“I promise not to send you off to your dreams unsatisfied.” Standing, Erato gave her the still-burning roach and turned to get a towel. “But I do want to get you to bed. For the sake of that beautiful body, all right?” She held open the towel in invitation, managing to make even that action seem painfully seductive. “Please just let me make you comfortable before I pleasure you.”
Kate sucked deeply on the end of the joint, then stood up slowly to exhale. She stepped out of the tub, surprised by how much better she felt already. Erato knew how to deliver good medicine. Walking into Erato’s waiting arms, Kate handed her the roach so she could dry off. She watched in amusement as Erato finished it in three more enthusiastic puffs. Turned on by the sight, Kate dropped the towel and pulled Erato into her arms. She flicked the roach into the sink behind her, nuzzled Erato’s neck, and inhaled deeply. “Can we get rid of the dress now?”
Chuckling, Erato led her by the hand into the bedroom. Kate was surprised to see her bed made and the linens freshly laundered. She stopped and stared, almost overwhelmed by gratitude for just how thoroughly Erato had improved her life—in under thirty-six hours, no less. She’d just finished her best writing session in years, had eaten three home-cooked meals in a single day, and now was going to sleep on clean sheets. Not only that, but her totally lame sexual dry spell had been wholly vanquished. She opened her mouth to thank Erato again only to find herself caught up in firm but tender arms that guided her onto the mattress and beneath the comforter.
“Relax,” Erato murmured. She straightened and reached for the catch on the back of her dress. Stripping down to nothing in just a few, fluid movements, she was pure poetry in motion, and despite Kate’s deepening exhaustion, her body stirred to life when Erato finally slipped into bed beside her. Kate rose onto her elbows, straining to meet her lips in a kiss, but Erato pressed her back down against her pillow. “Relax,” she repeated.
Surrendering, Kate lay back and exhaled. Her body seemed to melt into the mattress. The comforter was so warm. Eyes drooping, Kate struggled to stay awake. “No fair—”
Erato placed a finger over her lips, stopping her speech. “Let me.” She grinned, then lifted the comforter and disappeared beneath the covers. Kate moaned in anticipation when Erato parted her thighs and settled in the space between. She reached down blindly, slipping her fingers into Erato’s silky hair just in time for the first touch of her tongue against her labia.
The sensation was beyond description. She was already flying high. The post-writing euphoria mixed with the weed and the hot bath had her feeling as good as she ever had in her life—and the introduction of Erato’s mouth instantly rocketed her to heights unknown. Her entire body was simultaneously alive with pleasure and soothed to the extreme. She felt safe and warm and like she was slowly building toward a climax that would undoubtedly leave her unconscious, if not outright kill her. But what a way to go.
One hand fell away from Erato’s head, only to be caught and held with such tenderness Kate couldn’t help but sigh dreamily at the gesture’s romance. She resolved to have Rose catch Molly’s hand during a particularly loving session of oral worship—maybe at the end of a long shift for Molly, during an encounter that starts out like all the others but ends with a tremendous dose of real emotion and feelings of love. Kate smiled at the absurdity of not being able to turn off her once-dormant writing brain in a moment like this, then arched her back and cried out as the pressure between her legs swiftly peaked and exploded into unrelenting, joyful release. She squeezed Erato’s hand, glad to have an anchor in the blissful storm.
Erato continued to lick and kiss her labia long after the orgasm subsided, and although Kate was sensitive after such an intense climax, the sweet attention was far from too much. She felt like she could lie there all day—forever—if only she could always feel so content. When Erato finally left her with one last, intimate kiss, Kate struggled to open her eyes so she could thank her properly. Except she couldn’t. Her eyelids were literally too heavy to keep open, even when Erato surged up from between her thighs to capture Kate’s mouth in a sensual kiss.
Panicking a little at her sudden, all-encompassing fatigue, Kate felt her breathing hitch as she fought to stay awake. Soft, warm arms wrapped around her and pulled her int
o a gentle hug. “It’s all right, my sweet Kate. Just let go. I’m right here with you.”
Her sense of security in Erato’s arms immediately lulled her back to total relaxation. Burying her face in Erato’s chest, she inhaled deeply, then sighed. “Thanks, so nice.” The sentiment came out much sleepier than it had sounded in her head. “Now I owe you.”
A hand stroked down her back. “Three thousand words. You can pay up tomorrow.” Soft lips on her forehead, then, “Sleep. Dream.”
Chapter Ten
Kate snapped into consciousness the next morning with the rest of her chapter-in-progress already mapped out in her head. She’d dreamt the pivotal scene—after discovering that Molly is her mother’s favorite caregiver during her first visit in months, Rose pulls her into an empty, private room at the assisted-living facility for an awkward conversation about what this newly discovered association means. A talk that begins as a breakup of their casual sexual entanglement ends in a hurried, frenzied coupling in a semi-public place. This would be the event that would set the rest of their story into motion. Though Molly would be consumed by guilt over mixing the personal with the professional, both of them were about to discover that they couldn’t walk away from each other so easily.
Eager to dive into the messy world of her characters’ sexual and romantic lives, Kate opened her eyes, surprised to discover it was still dark outside. She checked the clock. 5:14 a.m. Perhaps more surprising was the presence of a sleeping Erato curled up at her side. She was a veritable angel in slumber, sweet and gorgeous and apparently flawless. She didn’t snore, or drool, or anything.
Kate shook her head in fond disgust, only barely resisting the urge to kiss Erato on the cheek. She didn’t want to wake her. After all she’d done for her so far, her “muse” had certainly earned a little rest. Careful not to jostle the mattress, Kate slipped out of bed and went to her closet. She grabbed the first pair of pajama pants and tank top she could find, pulling them on as she left the bedroom and walked straight to her office. Pleased to see an unopened bottle of water on her desk from the night before, she pulled out her chair and sat down. Right now she didn’t want to think about anything, not even sating her thirst or emptying her bladder. Already the images and dialogue from her dream were getting hazy, and the emotions stirred by Rose and Molly’s encounter grew less immediate by the second. The sooner she could immerse herself in finding the words to describe this next chapter in their story, the better chance she had of capturing the intensity of the scene as it had existed in her dream.
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