She stared at the ceiling and rotated her chair back and forth while she waited for a response. Incentive or not, at the moment, thoughts of Molly and Rose were firmly out of reach. She was entirely occupied with wondering what Olive might say. Tapping her foot impatiently, she let her gaze wander over her desk until it landed on the brown paper bag next to her monitor. The strawberry-rhubarb muffin. She snatched it up, taking her first bite just as her phone signaled another incoming text.
As much as she was anticipating the reply that awaited her, Kate went still and paid attention to the symphony of flavor playing out inside her mouth. The muffin was blissful. No other adjective did a better job of describing the way eating it made Kate feel. She took another bite—moaning at the exquisite tartness of the rhubarb, the sweetness of the strawberry—then grabbed her phone, already mentally composing the praises she planned to sing.
Olive’s reply made her smile.
I think it was mostly just awkward in my head. Dad said that you’re very pretty and wondered if I planned to ask you out. If he only knew…
So that meant Olive was open about her sexuality. Good. Kate shook her head to clear away the thought as soon as it occurred. It didn’t matter if Olive was out of the closet or not. The sex was incredible. That was what mattered. Anything else was just a distraction as long as her book remained unfinished. Determined to steer their conversation onto safer, more casual ground, Kate typed out a saucy response.
Knew what? That today wasn’t the first time I sampled your muffin?
The reply came quickly.
Scandal!
Kate laughed out loud, then typed again.
In all seriousness, your strawberry-rhubarb creation is the second best thing to happen to me today. You’re incredibly talented.
It took Olive a couple minutes to send a response.
Thank you. Is it lame to hope I also had something to do with the first best thing?
Her heart beat a little faster as she typed and retyped her next sentence a handful of times before gathering the courage to hit send.
You ARE the first best thing.
A soft knock on the office door startled Kate so badly she yelped and sent her phone clattering onto the floor. Scrambling to pick it up, she called out, “Come in!”
Erato opened the door partway, suspicion written all over her beautiful face. “Am I interrupting?”
Kate tossed her phone onto the desk, feigning carelessness, and shoved the rest of the muffin back into the paper bag. “Not at all. Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine. Are you writing?”
Kate tried not to let any of her instinctive defensiveness seep into her tone. “Yes.” Remembering that Erato had clearly seen that she hadn’t been pounding away at her keyboard, she amended her statement. “Well, I was, but I took a moment to try some of the muffin I bought from the farmers’ market. Would you like a bite? It’s delicious.”
Erato smiled. “Sure.” She swept into the room breezily, crossing to sit on Kate’s lap. “How’s it coming?”
“Great.” That wasn’t a lie, at least. “I’ve written about three thousand words, and the conflict between Rose and her mother is starting to come together in my head. Dear old mom is a bit homophobic.”
“Discovering that her favorite caregiver also loves the ladies will be a shock, then.”
Kate didn’t bother suppressing her evil grin. “Oh, yes. Especially the way I plan to write the discovery.”
“Excellent.” Erato kissed her on the temple, then reached inside the paper bag to break off a chunk of muffin. She took a bite, then closed her eyes, wiggling on Kate’s lap in a way that made it clear that she appreciated Olive’s baking prowess every bit as much as Kate did. “Oh, this is yummy.” She paused to chew and swallow, then opened her eyes to stare directly into Kate’s. “Olive really is something special, isn’t she?”
Afraid she was being tested, Kate said, “She makes a kick-ass muffin.”
Erato arched an eyebrow just as Kate’s cell phone buzzed twice, vibrating obnoxiously against the wooden surface of the desk. “Texting someone?”
The question sent her heart crashing into her stomach—or at least that’s how her writer’s mind tried to put her sinking dread into words. She’d employed similar turns of phrase more than once to describe characters in tense situations, but before that moment, she’d never personally experienced the sensation so keenly. It was unpleasant, to say the least. She felt caught. By whom, she wasn’t sure. Her girlfriend? Her writing coach?
She considered lying only briefly. That suggested she’d been doing something wrong. She wasn’t positive she had. Perhaps more importantly, to lie would be to confirm that Erato possessed some level of authority over her—which simply wasn’t true. No matter how helpful she’d been, or how much she’d done for her writing career, Erato wasn’t in charge of her life and had no real say in how she spent her time.
Besides, she reminded herself, Erato seemed to be able to read minds. Or at the very least, to read people. If she lied, Erato would most likely see right through her. So Kate nodded. “Olive gave me her number so I could text her my review of the muffin. It’s a new recipe and she wanted feedback.”
“Ah,” Erato murmured, and kissed Kate softly on the lips. “Let me guess, five stars?”
Kate smiled and kissed Erato back, struck anew by the softness of her lips and the happiness and creativity she brought with her every time she entered the room. The well-being she felt with Erato was almost enough to distract her from the fact that she had an unread message and that Olive was waiting for a reply. “Of course. Well deserved, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely.” Erato pulled back, and Kate realized that somehow she’d managed to grab the cell phone off the desk without her noticing. “In fact, I think I’ll send my own review.”
Kate forced herself not to react as Erato lowered her eyes to the screen and silently read their brief conversation. After a moment, Erato began typing a message of her own. Panicked, Kate craned her neck to read Olive’s most recent text, but Erato angled the screen away and pinned her with a disapproving frown. “Kate, do you want to finish this book?”
“Of course I do.” She tried not to lash out at such a ridiculous question. Of course she did. Finishing this book was integral to her career—not to mention her ability to pay her bills. If she didn’t finish this book, she would be forced to return to her full-time job. Writing would become even more difficult than it already was. And even if it didn’t always feel like it, she loved writing. So yes, of course she wanted to finish the goddamn book. “Erato, I wrote over three thousand words before taking a five-minute break to text Olive back after she texted me. You can’t possibly fault me for that or suggest that it indicates a lack of motivation.”
“I didn’t suggest that you lacked motivation.” Upon seeing Kate’s gaze drift again to the cell phone’s display, Erato turned it to rest facedown on her thigh. “I asked if you wanted to finish this book.”
“You know I do.”
Erato studied her for an uncomfortably long time before finally nodding. She dangled the phone between their faces, forcing Kate to summon all her willpower not to snatch it back. “Kate, this is a distraction. We both know it’s true, so please don’t pretend otherwise.”
She did know it was true. And she did want to finish the book. Still, the thought of having her phone taken away—or worse, having Erato text Olive and tell her to fuck off—made her feel desolate. Bereft. Her desire to be with Olive again had already produced three thousand words she probably wouldn’t have otherwise written, and she’d been confident that the next ten thousand would come just as quickly. If texting breaks spooked Erato into canceling the deal they’d struck, she was happy to lay off them. For now.
“All right, you win.” Kate put on her bravest smile, hoping Erato couldn’t sense how shaken she felt at the thought of jeopardizing whatever this thing was with Olive. “No more texting. I’m sorry.
I wasn’t trying to get a head start on my reward. She really did ask me to send feedback on the muffin, so I thought I owed her that much. And she did text me first.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Erato looked at the phone’s display. “She wants to know if she can see you again.”
Kate battled the urge to react to the revelation with the joy it naturally provoked. “How about I tell her that I need to isolate myself completely until I write ten thousand more words? Then we can set up a date.”
Setting the phone down on the desk, Erato brought both hands up to cradle Kate’s face. She stared at her soberly. “Kate, why don’t we find some other way to reward you when you reach this goal? If you want another threesome, we can find a new girl. Hell, I could hire someone—a professional who will do whatever you want. Or I could do whatever you want.”
Kate’s stomach churned at the prospect of having the reward that had been dangled in front of her suddenly taken away. “We made an agreement, didn’t we? Why can’t we just stick to what we originally decided?”
Erato looked pointedly at the phone. “Because this wasn’t part of our arrangement. I can’t knowingly allow you to waste any more time, my darling. You’ve got less than six weeks left to deliver this manuscript to your publisher. It may be only a ten-minute break today, but believe me when I say it will quickly spiral out of control. Even if I take your phone away, I’m afraid thoughts of Miss Olive will hijack your creative energy. We can’t have that. Not at this point.”
Kate shook her head. “Won’t happen,” she said forcefully. “Let me prove you wrong. Our arrangement stands. You take away my phone after I respond to Olive and let her know that I need to focus right now, and I write my next ten thousand words with thoughts of Olive providing my primary motivation.”
For a moment, she was afraid Erato would refuse, and she desperately didn’t want them to come to an impasse. Though it was within her power to ask Erato to leave, she didn’t even want to consider doing something so drastic. She wasn’t sure she could. She loved Erato, in a way, even having only just met her. The woman had improved Kate’s life immeasurably in the short time she’d been a part of it. Hell, if not for her, Kate probably wouldn’t have met Olive. Asking her devoted muse to leave so she could have the chance, however slim, to pursue a relationship with Olive wasn’t an easy trade-off to consider. On the other hand, forgetting Olive would be equally impossible. She didn’t know what about Olive so intrigued her, but ignoring their mutual attraction hardly seemed like an option.
Luckily, Erato didn’t force her to make a choice. “Fair enough. If you can prove to me that Olive is an inspiration and not a distraction, I’ll honor our original agreement. But with two caveats.”
Afraid to betray the full extent of her relief before hearing them, Kate said, “Okay.”
“First, I’m resetting your goal to thirteen thousand words. Consider the three thousand you wrote this morning payment for being dishonest with me when I asked if I was interrupting, and if you were writing.”
Kate searched her memory for the exact words she’d used. She’d been evasive but had tried not to outright lie. At least she thought she had. Then again, she had deliberately avoided mentioning that she’d been texting Olive despite being given two opportunities to confess. She supposed that was dishonest. Frankly, she wasn’t going to disagree lest Erato call off their entire working relationship and walk out of her life forever. Or perhaps even worse, refuse to allow her any more contact with Olive. “All right. What’s the second?”
Erato picked up the cell phone, erased the message she’d started to type, then handed it to Kate. “Tell her that you’ll arrange a playdate with her once you hit your word-count goal. Then we’ll get to your actual punishment for being dishonest about wasting time.”
An extra three thousand words wasn’t punishment enough? Not brave enough to voice the question, Kate accepted the phone with a grateful smile. “Fair enough. Thank you.”
Erato gave her a stern, sultry look that truly confused her senses. Rising from Kate’s lap to loom over her, she was the scariest, sexiest authority figure imaginable—the type of dominatrix she’d written about in more than one erotic story, pulled straight from her kinkiest fantasies. Fear and arousal battled for dominance within her, neither the clear winner. “Go on,” Erato murmured. “Last text for now. Make it count.”
Swallowing, Kate lowered her eyes, greedy to read Olive’s most recent message.
I was hoping you’d say that. Now for my moment of courage: do you want to see each other again sometime?
Almost as soon as she’d finished reading, the phone buzzed and another message appeared. Her hesitation must have spooked Olive, because her courage seemed to be flagging.
Maybe?
Regretful that she’d left Olive hanging long enough to induce doubt, Kate quickly typed an explanation, followed by her good-bye for now. The pang in her chest at the knowledge that she would have no more back-and-forth flirtation to look forward to was a clear sign that Erato had been right. Escalating their sexual tension over text was a one-way road to an unfinished manuscript. She reread her parting message twice, then, in a show of good faith, turned the phone so Erato could offer her approval.
Erato shook her head without looking at the screen. “I trust you.”
Nodding, Kate read over her reply a third and final time.
So sorry, didn’t mean to leave you hanging. I just got busted for texting. Erato says we can make a playdate after I write another thirteen thousand words, as a reward, but I’m not allowed to get distracted again before then. Something about a deadline…ha! Wait for me?
She pressed send, then looked up to find Erato watching her, stone-faced. Kate tightened her grip slightly on the phone as she anticipated having it confiscated. “Do you mind if I—” Before she could ask permission to wait for Olive’s reply, the vibration signaling a new message spared her the indignity. Kate took a quick, frantic look.
Don’t waste any more time texting me, then. Go! Write!
Kate’s grin faded when Erato placed her open hand next to the phone. Sighing, she dropped it onto her palm. Not only did she have to acknowledge that this was the best course of action for her productivity, but it was also obvious that in order to keep Erato and her magical writing juju in her life, she would have to play by a certain set of rules. So far nothing Erato had asked of her had been unreasonable, and the concerns about Olive weren’t unfounded. For the moment, Kate had nothing to lose by just going with the flow. She exhaled steadily when Erato left the room with her phone in hand but didn’t close the door, a clear sign that she intended to return.
What kind of punishment was she facing, exactly?
She barely had time to wonder before Erato walked back into the office to stand over her once again. “Your phone is in my possession until you’ve reached your new goal. If your publisher, parents, or sister calls, I’ll let you know and you can ring them back during a break. Otherwise, it’s off-limits.”
She doubted her phone would be ringing much—she’d kicked off her official retreat into solitude by alerting her friends and family of her rapidly approaching deadline. Still, she appreciated the sentiment. “Understood.”
“And before you even think about trying to look Olive up on social media, just know that I’m completely willing to cut off your Internet access. I haven’t so far because you’ve avoided using it to procrastinate, and sometimes it’s necessary for research.”
Startled by the mere suggestion of no access to the Internet, Kate blanched. “It’s integral to my writing process. You can’t take that away from me, too.”
Erato giggled. “Oh, Kate. Don’t be silly. Human beings have been writing and telling stories for hundreds of years without access to a search engine.”
If she hadn’t already been skating on such very thin ice, Kate might’ve been tempted to defend her reliance on the digital world. Instead she said, “I won’t give you a reason to turn off the Wi-Fi. I promise.
”
“You’ll be a good girl?” Erato cocked her head, pinning her with a stern glare. “Is that what you’re promising?”
Kate blushed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been reprimanded like this, or if she even had. That such a beautiful woman was delivering the scolding made it equal parts shame-inducing, frightening, and exciting. “Yes. I’ll be good.”
“Excellent. Now stand up.” Erato gestured with her head. “I want to leave you with a reminder of this conversation. Something to reflect on when the urge to get distracted—or to be dishonest with me—arises.”
Kate stood. It didn’t even occur to her to refuse—not until Erato took her place in the chair, straightened her skirt, and patted her lap expectantly. “Take off your jeans and lie over my knees. And don’t look so scandalized, darling. I’ve read your stories. All of them.”
That meant that despite the look of horror Kate knew she was wearing, Erato was perfectly aware of exactly how much the idea of over-the-knee spankings turned her on. Feeling utterly exposed by her past artistic choices, she shot back, “Hey, I’m allowed to be scandalized. There’s a difference between writing something—or fantasizing about it—and actually having it done to you.”
Erato allowed a brief, sweet smile. “Well, this wouldn’t be much of a punishment, let alone a deterrent of future misbehavior, if you weren’t at least a little scandalized.” Patting her thighs again, she said, “Come on, sweetheart. Don’t make me force you over my lap.”
The threat made her clench pleasantly and caused wetness to trickle out of her and soak the panties she was being asked to expose. Blood rushed to her cheeks, setting her face aflame. “I feel…silly.”
But silly was the last thing she felt when Erato captured her wrist and squeezed. “Don’t. What I want you to feel”—she placed Kate’s hand at the zipper of her jeans and gave her a pointed look—“is shame and regret for giving me a reason to confiscate your phone.” She paused, staring at Kate until she finally gave in and undid her pants. “I want you to feel the sting of my hand on your ass. Not just once you step out of those jeans and I take you across my lap, but hours from now, when you’re writing. I want you to feel horny. Desperate.” By this point, Kate was moving on autopilot, and Erato beamed when she shoved her jeans to the floor and stepped out of them. “I want you to feel inspired.”
The Muse Page 12
