Fahrenheit

by Alex Rosa

  My stare flattens, making him smile as he shakes my look off.

  “The damn woman asked me to read it right then and there. I tried refusing. She wasn’t going to understand my personal agony with simply opening the thing up, and I wasn’t going to explain. I wasn’t the one in therapy. It didn’t matter. She said the article would help me understand her problem with men if I read it. She explained something about men being afraid of commitment, and that she had trouble explaining herself, and that every man she attempted to date after her failed marriage fled the scene when things got too serious, and that the article made her feel understood.”

  My eyebrows shoot up. I had never considered that readers would relate to the relationship more than sex being an outlet. The part of the article about Nate and I was my personal exploit, and I used friends-with-benefits as a platform for comparison.

  “I read the entire thing, and I ended up canceling my session right in the middle of it. I couldn’t handle it when I flipped to the page to see your name and the title, realizing she was talking about the article you had written. What were the chances? I was terrified. I read it all the way through and panicked. It put me back at an emotional square one in the game of life. A place I worked so hard to get away from. How the fuck was I going to help this woman when it was clear from reading the article that I couldn’t help myself. There you were, asking so much of me. You called me out on my fears, quoting me as a reference, making me a goddamned hypocrite. My heart hurt. It hurt for you, and it hurt for us.” He pauses to stare at me a few seconds, the endless amber in his eyes absorbing me before continuing. “My patient was pissed off I sent her away. I told her I wouldn’t charge her. I canceled my whole goddamn day to go home—”

  “To your cat?” I blurt out.

  His lips twist.

  “Yes, to my cat,” he admits. “I drank three beers before picking up the magazine again. You gave me a deadline, and I had only days to decide what to do. You called me out on my shit. You picked apart the things I thought I had done so well hiding. I understood that you were also willing to take whatever I wanted to give you, but I almost hated you for that. What did I tell you about deserving what you wanted?”

  Heat rises to my cheeks. “You said I deserve to be loved the way I want to be loved.”

  “Fucking right you do. You gave me an out like you would’ve given your stupid roommate. It reminded me of the remark you made to me before I left your apartment. I didn’t like being put in the same boat as him. You didn’t have to give me an out like that. It also had me realizing I wanted to be what you deserved. Underneath all that control, and veil of a prude, you’re sweet, giving, compassionate, and ruthless with your emotions. I like you, Lauren. I like everything about you, especially for all of those reasons.”

  If I were a peacock, I’d be fluttering and flashing my feathers like the splendid creature in mating season.

  “You figured yourself all out, then?” I ask. My eyes round as I stare up at him.

  “Yeah,” he chuffs. “There was a moment that you—us—became inevitable. That’s the only word I can figure out how to describe us. This unavoidable, destined thing that made me terrified.”

  “And what moment was that?” I tilt my head, drowning in the sweet, amazing things oozing from his mouth,

  He licks his lips, and the slow drag of his tongue hints at something sinister, and I have no doubt he’ll meet my expectations.

  “Ironically, it was when I had you tied up, and we pretended I was the villain, and you were Spiderman. Hottest fucking thing ever. I mean, ropes and blindfolds are a personal preference, but it doesn’t mean I don’t have that sixteen-year-old boy inside me, who’d get hard in an instant if a girl wanted to play comic book sex games. A guy’s wet dream, really. Then you called me Batman in the article. I nearly blew my load reading it.

  I laugh hard, snorting at the ridiculousness, wondering how I got here with this strange, enigmatic, domineering, utterly adorable guy, and it feels so damn good.

  “I can’t tell whether you’re being serious or not with that Cheshire grin you have on right now,” I admonish.

  He laughs, and I remember how much I love that deep, carefree sound, especially when I’m part of the cause.

  “I do have a serious answer, though what I said is still true. I thought long and hard after I read your article for the billionth time, and many more beers in, that there was a strange dichotomy that occurred between us, and it happened from the start.” He pauses to tap his chin, allowing his vision to slide around the adult store around us. “From right here, actually. I don’t have to think when I’m around you even when we cross lines, or when you let me do all those naughty things to your body, or when you were here making me laugh with your smart mouth and obvious naiveté.”

  “Hey!”

  He shakes his head with a smirk. “My whole job is about chiseling away at people’s defenses to find the truth. At first, I attempted to dissect you as I would one of my patients. Funny to think that I was the naive one from the start. I thought you were easy to read, and at first, it entertained me to toy with you. Then I realized the more I tried to figure you out, the less I knew, and the more I wanted to know. It made our rules hard to follow, as you know. Quickly, it wasn’t about entertainment anymore. Something happened once we established trust. You became nothing but a raging river of honesty, from the soft wrinkle of your nose, to the words that would come out of your mouth. I was baffled the moment you let me in completely, and all I had to do was ask. You gave it unconditionally. It was strange for me not to have to try so hard to understand someone, but also refreshing and rewarding in a way I had forgotten existed. Being around you relaxed me, and I wanted you all the time. I was addicted to the feeling, while still fiending to be inside you. I haven’t felt like that in a long time.” He stops to release a few laughs. “You were a fricken goldmine to me, even if I couldn’t identify why I felt so good. What I mean is, you make me feel free, and in turn, that scared the shit out of me. It was a freedom I didn’t know I hungered for. It’s like trying a drug for the first time, and then realizing you’ve become addicted and you have no idea how it crept up on you. As scared as I am, I don’t think I want to let you go. All it took was you asking me to figure it out that had me willing to try. You had given me so much already, and I had to do the same for you. I have to admit though, I’m still shit scared.”

  As if remembering himself, he takes a step back, putting space between us. His eyes search mine. “I don’t know what I’m doing, but I do know that I want you, even if I’m unsure how to keep you.”

  A tiny pit of panic creeps inside me, but I swallow it down, knowing it’s my turn to remove his innate vigilance when it comes to matters of his heart.

  Oh, my self-deprecating hero.

  I extend my hand out to him, gifting him a smile, using everything he’s said so far to fuel me forward.

  “It’s scary. I can’t say I really know what I’m doing either. Hell, I felt like an idiot writing the article. Look at it this way, we started here with my curiosity, and it took us through the first part. Now your adventure will take us through the next. This is where the risk lies, I get that, but where’s your adventure if you don’t take the leap? I’m doing what you told me to do. I’m risking failure, because I think you’re worth it.”

  My teeth come down hard on my bottom lip, wondering when I’ll manage to get a mouth filter.

  He blows out a long breath, shaking his head, staring at me in smirking awe. “I meant it when I said your mouth is going to be the end of me.”

  I try to control the dopey smile that wiggles on my lips, but it’s no use when the corners of my mouth rise high.

  He bypasses my outstretched hand and grabs for my hips, yanking me forward. My body is given a featherlight touch against him, with less than inch between us, as if in teasing caution. He looks down at me, leaning in in slow motion until that arrogant, hot, sensual mouth twitches in a smirk, speaking instea
d of giving me what I desperately need.

  “So … did you get the job, then?” he asks with a goading head tilt.

  I snort. “Of course I did. I mean, did you read the article? Whether you showed up or not, I earned that promotion.”

  His hands on my hips squeeze me closer, pulling us flush together, and there’s a familiar gooey, lava feeling pooling between my legs. I lick my lips.

  He flashes his full HD grin. “Good!” He pauses, thinking on something a moment before giving in as he releases a boyish laugh. “Ya know, Lauren, if we actually make it through the long haul, we’ll have the most fucked up story to tell our children when they ask how we met.”

  My spastic smile has officially been permanently etched into my face as my eyes go wide.

  “Don’t look into that too much.” He laughs, going equally as wide-eyed. “I need tiny steps with this whole girlfriend thing.”

  I want to squeal with joy and/or laugh my ass off, but I’m not able to decide because his lips crash against mine, making any decision making impossible.

  He kisses me stupid. It’s as much of an apology as it is a promise as his lips stroke mine, a mixture of hard and sensual. The moment gets the best of us, or me rather, as my arms come up to wrap around his neck, my fingers twisting into his thick hair as I release a breathy moan that lets all my pent up worry and angst escape me in one vibrating sound against his mouth.

  He returns the favor, his hands at my hips squeezing harder, pulling me against him as close as possible, and causing me to lose my footing. We stumble together as his large body matched with my small one attempts to stabilize us, but not before we bump into the shelf to the right, knocking at least ten different colored vibrators to the ground, nearly half turning on, buzzing on the floor between us.

  Some bump and hit our feet on the floor, humming loudly and embarrassingly.

  He laughs, and buries his face in my neck, surely to hide his red face of mortification, and I can’t help but look down and quip, “Now who said romance is dead?”

  His laughter and lips against my skin tell me that we’re going to be more than fine. We’re going to be curious, adventurous, and utterly perfect.

  One Month Later

  “Bruce Wayne? Really?” grumbles from Nate’s mouth. He’s perched over my left shoulder, staring at my open laptop as we lay in bed.

  I lift my right hand from the keyboard, and press my palm against his handsome face, pushing him back onto his side of the bed, igniting his hardy chuckles.

  “Yeah. It’s funny. Rebecca wants me to write a follow-up article, and this is the best approach. Unless you’d like me to reveal your true identity?”

  He rolls back over, sneaking over my shoulder again to place a sweet, apologetic kiss against my cheek before pulling away.

  “No, thank you. Bruce Wayne says, ‘Carry on,’” he replies.

  “Thought so.” I giggle, continuing my fingertips pace over the keyboard. This time I’m eager for my first real assignment with my official new title.

  Without the looming pressure of heartbreak, words come swiftly and wittily, which is exactly what I need to continue to show my boss that I belong. Not that she doubts me. We’re past that now, especially since I let her meet my hero over fancy cocktails one Friday night. She could see what all my fuss was about, which somehow won myself a place in her book of permanent good graces. I’ll take it.

  I snuggle into the cushy, navy down comforter that’s Nate’s bed, still managing to smile every time I think about the fact that his business card matches his bedroom.

  He’s a parody of himself, and doesn’t know it.

  In case you didn’t catch that, I’m at Nate’s apartment.

  Yup. I’m proud of this fact. We’ve made a lot of progress. Not to mention, his cat adores me, kind of like its owner.

  I shake my head, trying to focus on my article. I shouldn’t procrastinate.

  “Do you really have to call me a cape crusader? At what point did I ever wear a cape?”

  “STOP READING OVER MY SHOULDER!”

  He laughs, and I’m still in love with the sound. A thrill rolls through my body every time I hear it.

  I press save and close my laptop, setting it on his nightstand, throwing in the white flag for the night.

  “Happy now, you creative buzz kill?”

  I roll onto my back, and Nate doesn’t hesitate to take the opportunity to climb over my body, placing kisses anywhere skin is exposed, which is a lot of places in this tank top. I stifle a whimper when his lips nip at the top of my breasts.

  I’m finding out that the Nate I’ve been getting to know is better than I imagined him. Regardless of his fear, and other than a few speed bumps, he’s a natural at commitment. He’s also a lot more boyish and carefree than he is brooding iceman. Which doesn’t mean he isn’t dominating when it matters. Plus, superhero foreplay still makes a constant appearance. I may or may not own a Wonder Woman costume now.

  He tugs on the top hem of my tank top with his teeth, pulling it down so his mouth has better access to my breasts. He kisses at my exposed nipple before saying, “I think I want to go to Fahrenheit this weekend. You want to go?” He licks at the sensitive bud, as if I need convincing. “I’m thinking I’d like to tie you up while you’re on all fours.”

  Just like that, his dirty mouth takes us from casual to scorching hot.

  “I’d like that,” I reply.

  “Excellent.”

  He trails his mouth up my neck again to my mouth, peppering my lips with innocent kisses as his right hand drags up my tank top.

  “I think I like you in my bed more than yours,” he hums.

  “Why’s that?” I ask, lifting my hands to his wide, bare back, dragging my fingernails down his taut muscles, loving that this has become a nightly routine for us.

  “Because your roommate isn’t down the hall.” He presses a hard, bruising kiss against my mouth, as if to stop the rebuttal he knows I’ll have. His strategy wins when his tongue dips into my mouth.

  His taste never gets old, and always has me losing my train of thought.

  Nate had been staying most nights at my apartment before we made the transition to his. We’ve been trying to take things slow, but we’ve realized slow is not our forte. I keep a spare toothbrush and cat treats in my purse now.

  I’m surprised he’s still mentioned my best friend, even if it’s in sexually innuendo-laced jest.

  I’ve noticed that Nate doesn’t like talking about Garrett, even if they seemed to get along during a few dinners and evenings of Netflix together.

  Slowly introducing Nate into my life has been easy, but I’m finding out Nate prefers it when it’s just us.

  I grin dopily, but remember something that might interrupt our weekend plans.

  “Not to ruin the moment, but speaking of Fahrenheit, guess who told me he got an invite?”

  Nate stops his foreplay to level his stare to mine. I laugh. Nate takes his sexual playgrounds very seriously.

  “Who?” he asks.

  “Garrett.”

  See who get’s invited next …

  Fahrenheit #2

  Garrett Summers

  [ Add to your Goodreads ]

  Acknowledgements

  Fahrenheit was a fun project that was a way for me to try my writing hand at some erotica with a romantic comedy edge. Without the push and support of Len Webster and Jaycee Ford, this book would not exist. You ladies kept me moving and super excited about this project. Without you I’d be a blubbering mess with nowhere to vent. I appreciate you both so much!

  Thank you to the amazing beta reading group for Fahrenheit: Kimberley Lake, Renée Roy, Amanda Angulo Vargas, Yvette Angeles, Danielle Woodside, and Amber McDaniel. Your comments, suggestions and overall feedback with this book were priceless to me. You helped make this book into what it is now. Now I’m excited to bring you all into the journey of book two.

  To everyone in “Alex’s Agents” street team, thank you
for always helping rally the troops and getting things done. Your endless support and excitement for projects fuel me to write. You ladies make me laugh and smile, and I appreciate all your help, feedback and participation! Thank you for sticking around. I adore every one of you!

  To my long lost sister, Alys Arden, who’s can-do attitude, and check ups on me as we create goals and master them together in this crazy literary world always keeps me on track and laughing at the shenanigans that ensue. Thanks for always being my sanity in a chaos of word counts. I’m so excited we’re going on our journey of kicking ass and taking names together. Someday we’ll live in the same state and finally be able to do writing sessions.

  Thank you to H. Danielle Crabtree (Dani) for enduring my writing quirks in my manuscripts. Your comments and reprimands make me laugh while making me want to be the best writer possible. Thank you for not only being an awesome editor, but also an incredible friend. Even though you’re in a different state I don’t see how that will get in the way of our friendship. I’d get on a plane to visit whenever given the chance.

  Forever thanks to my family and friends who put up with my long disappearing acts to write books and feed into this crazy author dream. Thank you to my parents for always gifting the most effortless support that makes me feel like I can conquer the world. Thank you to my friends who grab beers with me every time I hit a goal, wanting to share the moment with me. Thank you to the friends who stick with me through this journey, from bad moods and vanishing, to hilarious retellings and constant updates, thank you for being my family as much as you are friends. I can’t imagine the world without you.