And now, after ten years, they were both back at the lake; they were adults who were attracted to each other, though for her it went a little farther than that. A part of her still loved Uriel and would always love him. For some women, teen crushes faded over time; but not for her, which was why she could not consider a fling with him. She would need something more lasting than that.
Chapter 9
“Okay, El, start at the beginning.”
Ellie rolled her eyes as she slumped down in her favorite chair. She glanced out the window. Uriel was in the middle of his workout. It was close to nine, which meant he’d gotten a late start this morning for some reason. She’d had a sleepless night, and she couldn’t help wondering what his excuse was.
She tried turning her attention away from Uriel and back to her conversation with Darcy. She had meant to call her aunt’s agent first thing this morning, but before she could do so she had gotten a call from Darcy, who in a very excited voice had told her about a job offer she’d gotten with the City of New York.
Ellie was happy for her friend and knew it had been Darcy’s lifelong dream to live in the Big Apple. Darcy worked hard and was good at what she did as a city planner. Minneapolis’s loss was now Manhattan’s gain. After going through all the congratulations and deciding when the two of them could get together to celebrate, Ellie, needing someone to talk to, and had unloaded on Darcy, telling her all the things that had happened over the past two days, namely Uriel wanting a summer fling and her aunt being, of all things, a romance author of erotica fiction.
“Just what part didn’t you get, Darcy?” she finally asked.
“Both.”
Ellie pulled in a deep breath as she went through everything again. From her time spent in Gatlinburg with Uriel to their heated kiss, and then his proposal that they have a summer fling, all the way to the letter her aunt had left with her attorney. Surprisingly, Darcy just listened and let her talk without any interruptions.
When she was finished Darcy had her turn. “Okay, let’s take one issue at a time. I understand about you and Uriel. You’ve been hooked on the guy forever, and you’re not bad-looking, so quite naturally he would come on to you. Personally, I expected it. And if you recall, that day the two of you kissed on the pier, he was enjoying it. He only got pissed off because I interrupted things. You were too busy kissing him back to notice that he was attacking your mouth just as much as you were attacking his.”
Darcy paused briefly, then continued. “Now fast-forward to present day. Most men his age aren’t ready for commitment. In a way, I wish Harold hadn’t assumed that he was. It would have saved me a lot of misery. I applaud a guy who won’t marry until he feels that he’s ready. And in the meantime, do you really expect him to twiddle his thumb and lay off women until then? Come on, El, that’s not how it works. I read plenty of romance novels, but this here is the real world. Men prefer affairs, and believe it or not, some women do, too. Things are less complicated that way.”
“Are you saying that maybe I should consider having a summer fling with Uriel?”
“It’s your decision, Ellie, and I can’t help but admire Uriel for giving you the time to make it. Most men, especially one our age, would use this time to seduce you into one. From what you’ve said, Uriel has kept his distance, giving you a chance to think straight, without him being around. In other words, he hasn’t sought you out.”
Ellie gnawed on her bottom lip, deciding it wasn’t necessary to tell Darcy that it had been the other way around. She had sought him out, without him knowing she’d done so. Uriel had no idea that she watched him work out every morning or that she would often watch him fish from the pier.
“Now, with this issue involving your aunt. I can’t believe she actually penned a romance novel. And one with love scenes. How hot were they?”
Darcy’s words pulled Ellie’s thoughts back in. “They were hot. Actually a bit erotic. But the love scenes fit the story.”
“So you enjoyed it, hmm?”
Ellie knew what Darcy was getting at. “Okay, I did enjoy it. It was different from what I’ve been reading, so I was quickly pulled in. After the first chapter, I knew it was more than that. It was truly a well-written story. I hate that the manuscript didn’t get finished.”
“So, what are you going to do about that?” Darcy asked.
“There’s nothing I can do but contact her agent to let her know Aunt Mable passed on, and to find out how much of an advance she received so that I can return it to her.”
Darcy didn’t say anything for a moment, and then said, “You know there is another option, don’t you?”
Ellie raised her brow. “And what option is that?”
“You can finish it.”
“What!” Ellie exclaimed, jumping out the chair. “Are you nuts, Darcy? There’s no way I can finish that book. First of all, I know nothing about writing a novel, and then, did you miss the part when I said that it’s a romance book, with plenty of sensuality and passion—two things I know nothing about?”
“Calm down, Ellie, and listen to me for a second, because I think you’re wrong. You can finish it. I think you owe it to your aunt to do so. You read what she wrote in that letter. It was her dream to get that book published. And you said there’re only a few chapters left. The only thing you need is to get romantically and sexually inspired, and we both know the person who can serve as some real-life inspiration.”
Ellie frowned. “Don’t even think it.”
“Sorry, too late. I’m already thinking it. I think it’s perfect. If the book is that good, then you owe it to Ms. Mable to finish it, even if it means that summer fling with Uriel to get inspired, to feel how sensuality and passion works hand-in-hand.”
Ellie rolled her eyes while shaking her head. “That doesn’t mean I would able to finish that book, Darcy. I’m not a writer.”
“But you are your aunt’s niece. Her favorite niece. Her only niece. You even got her name, Ellie Mable Weston. So, in essence, a Mable Weston would have written the book.”
“Jeesh” was the only comment Ellie could make, not believing Darcy’s logic.
“And I believe, once you start writing, that Ms. Mable will also inspire you with the right words to say,” Darcy tacked on.
Ellie didn’t say anything for a moment. Would her aunt do that? She didn’t necessarily believe in the paranormal, but if it was possible, her aunt would find a way to reach her. “But what about Uriel? He would never go along with being used that way,” she said.
“You’re talking nonsense now, Ellie. The man asked you to indulge in a summer fling. It’s all about sex, girl, so get real. If you agree to it, do you think he’d care one iota that he’s inspiring you or that you’re doing research for a book? In fact, why even bother telling him? The fewer details men know about certain things, the better. Uriel thinks your aunt was a sweet old lady. Do you really want him to know she was a hot tamale?”
“Darcy!”
“Sorry, but you know what I mean. Think about my suggestion. Your aunt was given until the end of the year to finish that book. If I were you, I would finish it and turn it in as soon as possible. If the agent thinks it doesn’t work she will let you know it. If it flows and turns out to be a good book, like I know it will be, at least there will be one book on the shelf written by Flame Elbam, and no one will know the truth but me and you. And if the agent wants another book, we can tell her then that your aunt passed away. We don’t have to tell her when.”
Ellie eased back in the chair and closed her eyes. Sometimes she actually thought that Darcy was in the wrong profession. She could plot deception too easily. “I need to think about this.”
“Then think about it, and if you decide to let Uriel be your inspiration, all you have to do is let him know you’ll agree to that summer fling. You don’t have to give him a reason. And then, who knows? In the midst of it all, Uriel just might figure out that you’re the best thing to ever happen to him, and you’ll cure him of
his commitment phobia.”
Ellie used the rest of that day to pack up some more of Aunt Mable’s things. Around noon, she had stopped for lunch, and later that day she took a break for dinner. It was only later, when the sun had finally gone down that she decided to call it a day, take a shower and relax.
She sat downstairs on the sofa with a glass of wine and her aunt’s letter and unfinished manuscript, to ponder her options. She hadn’t called Lauren Poole today, deciding to give Darcy’s suggestions some thought first. Was finishing this manuscript something she could actually pull off?
She took a sip of wine and then reread her aunt’s letter. Afterward, she placed it aside and picked up the manuscript and began reading it again.
The room was quiet, and reading her aunt’s words a second time was just as exhilarating as the first. After she finished the first chapter, she took another sip of wine and smiled to herself. Darcy really had a lot of confidence in her abilities, if she thought she could just come in and finish this story without a reader recognizing it hadn’t been written by the same person. But then, as she continued reading, she had thoughts and ideas on just how she would want the book to continue and then to conclude. But would those have been her aunt’s thoughts and plans for her hero and heroine?
Ellie lifted her eyes from the manuscript and sighed deeply. And what about those hot and steamy lovemaking scenes, where sparks were flying off the pages? It had been years since she’d actually shared a bed with a man, and even then things had been kind of rushed each time. Could she actually write the love scenes after obtaining some real-life inspiration?
In a way, Darcy was right. Uriel had asked her to indulge in a summer fling. If she decided to go along with it, did he have to know her motives for doing so? Darcy was probably right in thinking that he wouldn’t care. Especially since he’d made it known he was not interested in anything long-term. They would be former lovers who were nothing more than friends. Those had been his words, and not hers.
She took a sip of her wine and continued reading. A short while later she lifted her gaze from the page to draw in a deep breath. With each lovemaking scene she could actually feel when Grant stroked Tamara’s skin. When he whispered words into Tamara’s ear he might as well be whispering them into hers, as well.
Ellie loosened the two top buttons of her blouse, then shifted positions when the cotton material of her shorts suddenly seemed sensitive against her skin. She was beginning to feel hot. Aroused. Sexually deprived. Her lips curved. Maybe she was enjoying too much wine tonight. Too much wine and not enough man.
At least, not a certain man.
She could actually admit, in all honesty, that she’d only really been kissed twice in her life. And both times by Uriel. Kisses she’d receive from other men didn’t even come close. For one, long heartbeat of a moment, she stared into space as she remembered the kiss that had taken place a few days ago in her kitchen. She recalled how her back had felt pressed against the refrigerator while a very hungry mouth had devoured hers.
There was no doubt in her mind that Uriel was all the real-life inspiration she would need, and that he was not only capable of stimulating her body to where she would probably not only put sexy words on paper, but talk all kinds of stuff in her sleep. Especially if the size of the erection she’d felt that day, pressing hard against her, was anything to go by. No doubt he would teach her a lot, inspire her plenty and leave her wanting more, only to deliver time and time again.
The thought was tempting, so much so, in fact, that she could feel her inner muscles quivering, the area between her legs tingling and the heat invading her body and taking over her common sense.
Was this the opportunity that she had been waiting for all her life, at least since the time she’d decided she would love Uriel forever, marry him one day and have his babies? Even then, those had been the dreams of a teenager who didn’t know, hadn’t a clue just what she’d been hoping for. Now she knew.
She sighed deeply and placed the rubber band back around the unfinished pages, placed the letter on top to put the items away. Her decision had been made. She would be the one to finish her aunt’s manuscript. Darcy was right. Aunt Mable would want it that way. She would pay Uriel a visit tomorrow and tell him that she would indulge in an affair with him.
Picking up her items, she carefully balanced everything in her hands as she climbed the stairs. She turned on the light in her aunt’s room and went to the desk, placed the manuscript and letter in a drawer and locked it. She then glanced over at the clock. It was close to 2:00 a.m. Had she been reading that long?
She turned off the light to leave the room, when her gaze traveled to the window. She then recalled what Uriel had said about not being able to sleep sometimes at night, and that one of those nights he had been outside, sitting on the porch, and had seen her at the window, wearing a nightie.
Was he outside now, sitting on the porch? Restless, edgy, possibly even a bit horny? What would he do if she appeared at the window, pretended she didn’t know he was there and started removing her clothes, piece by piece? Feeling naughty, wild, with a burst of erratic hormones she hadn’t realized she had until now, she turned the light back on and moved toward the window.
She might wait and give Uriel her decision tomorrow, but she intended to send him a very intimate message tonight.
Uriel stood at the kitchen sink and wet his hands to wipe across his face. He felt hot, filled with a fiery sensation, a primal urge, that even sleeping in the nude hadn’t eased. So he had slipped into a pair of shorts to come downstairs. He glanced at the clock on the stove. It was two in the morning. He should have guessed. This restlessness, edginess, was becoming a nightly thing around this time.
As usual, he’d had his dreams, and as usual, he had awakened just seconds before joining his body with Ellie’s. Would there ever be a dream when he would complete the act and relieve himself of his misery? When would he feel what it would be like to be inside her body, have her inner muscles clench him tightly, milk him dry? He would have to settle for a dream, since it seemed she had decided an affair with him was not what she wanted. This had been day three, and he had pretty much gotten her message loud and clear. There would be no summer fling between them.
In the morning he would go over there, give her some of the fish he’d caught and offer to fry them for her. He would then tell her that he’d accepted her decision and, as nothing more than friends, they could at least enjoy each other’s company for the rest of the summer.
But during the wee hours of the night, while alone in his bed, he would continue to dream about her and to do to her in his fantasies what she refused to let him do in reality.
He crossed the darkened kitchen and headed for the back door, opened it and stepped outside. It was hot, but the cool breeze from the lake was swirling around, spraying a light mist on his naked chest. The moment he sat down in the swing he glanced next door, and his pulse rate accelerated when he saw the light was on in Ms. Mable’s bedroom. The first time in three days.
He sat there with his gaze transfixed to the window. He had told her he’d sometimes sit out here at night and look over at the window. For that reason alone, Ellie would probably not come close to the window, knowing there was a possibility that he would be watching.
But still, that didn’t stop him from sitting and staring. He figured, sitting out here, being hopeful, was a hell of a lot better going back to bed and dreaming and being disappointed.
The light went out and he mentally swore, followed by the muttering of a few choice words under his breath. This was pathetic. He had a cell phone filled with the names of a number of willing women, women he could call even now, at this hour, to initiate a long-distance booty call. Over the phone, they could engage in some pretty dirty sex talk, and he knew any one of them would follow it up with a visit to the lake by morning. Probably before the sun even came up, there would be a knock at his door. So why was he sitting here with a hard-on as big as the state
of Texas?
While he was pondering that question, the light came back on in the bedroom next door. Evidently, Ellie had decided she wasn’t ready to go to bed after all. He watched, and then his breathing almost thickened when he saw a slight movement of the curtain, a flutter. Was his imagination getting the best of him?
He slowly stood, deciding he wouldn’t torture himself any longer, when the curtain moved again. Actually moved. And then she was there.
At the sight of her he sucked in a deep breath and his already hard body got harder.
She was wearing a pair of shorts and a blouse. He couldn’t see all of her shorts but he could see most of her blouse. And it was open. Unbuttoned all the way to her navel. And she wasn’t wearing a bra.
He blinked. For a second he couldn’t breathe. He refused to do so. He could only watch, stare, all but gape, while making out the fullness of her breasts that he could see from a distance. His lips firmed. Did she have any idea what she was doing?
He dropped back down in the swing with his gaze glued to the window. It was dark over at his place, so Ellie didn’t know he was sitting on the porch watching her. Or did she?
He leaned back in his seat. If she was deliberately putting on a show, he fully intended to watch. With a barely functional mind, he took in all he was seeing, and when she slowly eased the blouse from her shoulders, letting it drop nonchalantly to the floor, leaving her bare, he couldn’t fight the rampant sensations, the hard-hitting desire that seeing her naked breasts evoked.
Intense heat seared through him, making his already hot body even more enflamed. And as he continued to watch, she leaned over and he could tell she was removing her shorts. After taking them off she held them in her hand, up to her chest, before tossing them aside. And then he could tell she was easing something else off her body and figured it was her panties. Moments later, she held them up on her finger and, as if they were a trophy, she twirled them around in the air on her finger a few times, before tossing them away as well.
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