by Delta James
He leaned forward, kissing her cheek. Sage was relieved to realize that not only didn’t it hurt, it was oddly devoid of emotion. She was finally over him. She had gone from love to hate and now finally, to apathy.
“Given why you broke things off between us, I’m surprised to see you here.”
“Well, Gwen actually rather enjoys these kinds of events. One of our clients has acquired a small studio and is talking to Gail about one of your books being made into a movie… one of the earlier books before they got so smutty.”
Zing! He couldn’t help himself… neither could she.
“Doesn’t Gwen read the smutty ones?” asked Sage, feigning innocence.
Zing! Bullseye she thought as he blushed. Hmm, Roark would never blush. She wondered if she could even embarrass a man like Roark. She didn’t actually know any men like Roark, but that wasn’t the case.
She didn’t know how to tell him his girlfriend, Gwen, was an avid reader and participant in her private reader group on Facebook. Gwen was also a lawyer and on track for partner, which she guessed was the real reason Derek had broken things off between them. There was a part of her that knew she should feel bad about being a bit bitchy, but this was her party, and she wasn’t going to take crap from her ex.
She allowed Gail to move her through those she wanted Sage to meet, whispering in her ear who each person was and why they were important.
“Cindy Sellers, huge erotic romance blog. Always features our books and gives them stellar ratings on Amazon, Goodreads, and Bookbub,” Gail whispered. “Named you erotic romance writer of the year.”
“Cindy! It’s so good to see you. I can’t thank you enough for all your support… and for naming me Erotic Romance Author of the Year. I was so touched.”
“My pleasure, Sage, and I totally meant it. The bottle of wine was so sweet and so like you.”
She’d have to remember to thank Gail for that.
Finally, the party started to die down and she looked for Terrance, who was surrounded by those who had waited. Sage hailed one of the waiters.
“Ms. Matthews?” she said. “I just love your books.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that. If there’s one you’d like in paperback, just go grab it and I’ll sign it for you.”
“Really? Thanks! Now, what did you need?”
“See that group of readers with Terrance? Could you get their drink orders? See if you could also snag us a tray of hors d’oeuvres and put it on my tab?”
“I can do that. That’s so sweet of you. You’re not like most of them. You really seem to like your readers.”
“I don’t like my readers… I adore them. Join us if you can.”
The waitress glanced at her watch. “I can do that. My shift just ended. I’ll get you…”
“Us.”
The girl’s smile broadened. “Us set up.”
Two hours later, the room was empty except for Sage, Terrance, and the last of the readers. When she’d signed the last book and received the last hug, they left the ballroom.
“Terrance, I’m going to take a stroll outside. It’s really a lovely night.”
“Want some company?”
“No, you go upstairs to Max and give him my love.”
Terrance grinned, held up the wine bottle Sage had pressed into his hands, and left. She waved off the concierge and headed outside to one of the hotel’s courtyards.
Pew! Snap! Pew! Snap!
Sage heard the sounds as pieces of bark from a nearby tree flew into her face. She dropped and rolled as another two bullets skimmed past where she had just been standing and embedded themselves in the tree. Rolling away, she got to her feet behind a dense cluster of bushes and ran toward the main hotel, screaming her head off.
The next sounds she heard were the tromping of footsteps and shouts of security people. Sage was hustled inside via a side door and immediately surrounded by hotel personnel who assured her that she was safe, and that the police had been called.
“Gail…” she started, realizing she was in shock.
“Sage, oh my God, Sage! I’m right here.” Gail rushed to her side.
Thank God was right. Thank God for Gail, who swiftly took control of the situation and helped her file reports with the police, ensured her room was secured, asked the hotel to station additional security in and around Sage’s suite, then helped Sage back to her room.
“Are you sure you’re all right? Do you want me to order room service? The kitchen was about to close, but they said they’d be happy to make something to send up to you,” Gail offered.
“That would be great. If I could get a big bowl of their cream of crab soup, a loaf of that bread they serve with lots of butter, and a couple of diet cokes, I would be so appreciative.”
Gail ordered room service and stayed while Sage changed into her robe and the food arrived.
“If you’re sure you don’t need anything else…”
“No, thanks, Gail. I really appreciate it. I think I was in a bit of a shock. I don’t really recall much of what happened.”
“These local yokels aren’t all that sure. They think probably kids out doing a bit of night shooting mistook you for something else. One idiot thinks someone was shooting at you.”
“At me? Why would anyone want to shoot at me?”
“Who knows? I think things are probably so boring around here, he’s just trying to make up something exciting. I’m sure it was just a couple of kids being stupid…”
The fog from the fear seemed to be dissipating. “But why would kids be shooting pistols with silencers in the dark?”
“What makes you think they had silencers?” asked Gail.
“There was no actual sound of a gunshot… you know, like a bang or the backfire of a car. All I heard was a kind of a weird spitting sound and pieces of the tree being chipped off by the bullets.”
Gail laughed. “Who knows what silliness kids will get up to. They probably scared themselves more than you. Go easy on the bread and butter, will you?”
“Sure.” Sage rolled her eyes. “Thanks again,” she said, following Gail to the door and securing the night latch before double-checking the door that led to the private terrace.
She sat at the table and enjoyed her meal, devouring every bit of bread and dollop of butter. Heaven.
After she finished, she checked the doors again, then headed into the bath. She turned on the shower before getting out of her robe and taking a critical look at her body. She really did need to lose a few pounds, but hot artisan bread and butter was something not to be missed. Besides, someone had tried to shoot her, regardless of whether they thought she was some kind of varmint. She deserved a little indulgence.
Chapter 2
Sage stepped into the hot, pulsing shower and let the water rush over her. She adjusted the showerhead so it pounded against her tense muscles, forcing them to relax. Turning her back, the hot water did a lot to dispel not only the tension she had been holding in her body, but in her mind. She could feel everything beginning to unwind. By the time she got out, her good mood had been restored, her fears abated, and a feeling of sexiness began to creep over her body like the mist rolling in from the sea.
She walked back into the main suite and set up her laptop. Sage hadn’t really planned on doing any writing while she was here, but she never went anywhere without her computer. She never knew when any new character might speak to her or Roark had a new story to tell her. That was the oddest thing about her work—she wasn’t a plotter who did meticulous research and planned out the entire book. She heard characters in her head, and she simply wrote down the stories they told her. No one understood the strength of Roark’s personality.
Roark had started off as a fairly typical romantic hero, but from the beginning, she’d had trouble keeping him from going dark and just a bit kinky. The sex became more graphic in the second novel, which outsold the first almost two to one. By the fourth novel, he had begun spanking his heroine of the month and in
corporating other elements of dominance and submission. Each novel did better than the ones before, so Gail insisted she continued to write them.
Sage had to admit, in the beginning, they had been fun to write, but more and more, she longed to do something else—paranormal, cowboy, romantic comedy, anything other than what she felt had become formulaic—but the money was too good to walk away from.
Flipping her laptop open, she sat in the comfortable office-style chair.
Let’s see… where did I leave Roark… right, he’d just spanked and fucked his latest heroine…
He watched her as she worked. She was really quite lovely. Granted, she was not the size of a fashion model, but he’d never been particularly fond of skinny girls who looked like a teenage boy from the back. No, he wanted a woman with dangerous curves—voluptuous, with large breasts, and a smaller waist that flowed smoothly into generous hips. If she had a nice, lucious ass… all the better. Sage had been a bit on the thin side when they’d begun and always wore those severe suits with boring, serviceable lingerie. Now, she indulged herself, enjoyed life more, and her clothing was more in keeping with that of a successful romance writer. He wondered if people knew her fondness for expensive, utterly feminine lingerie and corsets. He liked it best when she danced around naked in the solarium.
Sage wrote for several hours, and finally, realizing the time, hit save on the story, turned off the light, removed her robe, and climbed into bed. She arranged the pillows so she was comfortable and didn’t draw the covers over her body. He watched as she ran her hands down her body, glad she had worked on a sex scene—they often left her aroused and ready to play.
She moved her hands down to her mons, trailing down to part her labia and bring some of her honeyed moisture from her slit back up to her clit. Sage moaned and her toes curled, her legs relaxing to give her more room to pleasure herself. He wondered if she had any idea how incredibly desirable she was.
She rubbed her swollen nubbin in small circles with her index finger, using her other hand to separate the petals of her sex, isolating her clit, and exposing her pussy. God he loved looking at her pussy. The physical effects of her arousal could be seen—nipples stiff and hard, pussy soft and wet, and skin flushed with desire.
Sage reached into the bedside table. That naughty little minx—she’d packed her favorite vibrator. She stimulated her pleasure nub until it peeked out from under its hood, her breath becoming thready. Setting the toy to a lovely hum, she placed it against her clit and let it work its magic while her other hand went up to play with her nipples—rolling, pinching, and tugging. Her hips undulated as she moaned, enjoying her pleasure.
Moving the hand that had been stimulating her pebbled tips, she brought the vibrator to the entrance of her core and eased it inside. That’s where she got it all wrong… she didn’t need some small, vibrating toy slipping gently into her pussy. No, what she needed was a man’s large, hard cock, throbbing as he steadied and mounted her, driving to the end of her sheath in one brutal lunge. He could almost feel how she would clamp down on his shaft, her cunt trembling along his length.
Sage was moving the toy in and out as she rubbed her clit. A man who knew what he was doing would be able to thrust in a such a way, he’d hit her clit with every surge forward. She closed her eyes, throwing her head back, panting as her muscles stiffened in anticipation of her impending orgasm, moving the vibrator in and out at an increased pace as her climax washed over her. Sage took a deep breath and relaxed. She needed more. She needed a man who could and would ride her hard and long… and often, making her come repeatedly before emptying himself into her as she writhed beneath him.
“Sometimes, Roark, I wish you were real,” she sighed, placing the vibrator on the nightstand.
Sage woke the next morning completely and utterly refreshed. She had a breakfast this morning with readers, a panel discussion, then the actual signing. She looked in the closet and laughed. Gail had packed her outfits for today in a garment bag labeled “Breakfast and Panel,” “Signing,” and a last one marked “Drive Home.” She must think Sage was the most incompetent, unfashionable person in the world. She wasn’t that far off the mark. It wasn’t that she didn’t know, but for the most part, she just didn’t care.
Since she’d started making good money, she had indulged her love of gorgeous lingerie and corsets—expensive, handmade corsets. There was a place in London, very exclusive, she would love to visit. The problem was they catered to Doms, even though the corsets, thongs and other fet wear were meant for submissives. She was neither submissive nor in a relationship with any kind of Dom. She wrote about alpha males and dominant men but had never experienced either. She had tried to get Derek to go to one of the kink clubs in D.C. or try something outside of pure vanilla sex, but he had been adamantly opposed. She wondered if he still had those objections given that his new fiancée, Gwen, was one of her most avid readers.
Breakfast was fun once everyone calmed down about the incident the night before. Sage had followed the hotel and Gail’s lead and passed it off as just drunken teenagers out on a lark. She was sponsoring the breakfast, so she had arranged small gift bags of swag to be at the place setting of each of those attending. Sage tried to include things that people would find useful—eyeglass wipes, pens, coasters, can koozies, and the like. She had also overridden Gail’s plan for an enhanced continental breakfast, opting for a full buffet.
“I thought we agreed to go with the cheaper option,” Gail hissed under her breath. “And where did all these swag bags come from?”
“I wanted something better for breakfast. I arranged for the swag bags weeks ago and had them delivered here. Lighten up, Gail… it’s not like you’re paying for it. This gets deducted after I calculate your percentage.”
At the end of the breakfast, she stood and announced, “Everybody should have received a small gift at their place setting. At each table, I randomly placed a bag marked Winner. If you have the winning swag bag… stand up.”
When each of the winners stood, Sage clapped her hands, and hotel staff brought in a gift basket for each of them. She was glad she’d reminded Gail this kind of thing didn’t come out of her percentage… otherwise, Gail might have fetched them back.
“It looks like there is a forty-five-minute break until the panel starts in the room right across the hall,” she announced.
“Sage? Will you be available for pictures between now and then?” called an attendee.
“Always! There’s a beautiful little courtyard right outside these French doors. Anyone who wants to, let’s go outside.” She moved toward the exit. Seeing the size of the crowd, she added, “Anyone who doesn’t get a picture now will have a chance after the panel or after the signing.”
She smiled as she heard people calling their thanks. Sage tried to do everything she could to ensure her readers had a good time at events. She really didn’t understand those who didn’t. She understood that for some authors, these kinds of events were like pulling teeth, but others, in her opinion, had become too impressed with themselves to be bothered. Sage vowed never to be like them.
The combination of sunshine, fresh air, and her readers’ company and good cheer had completely banished the darkness from the night before. Sage entered the room for the panel discussion with her readers right before it was due to start and rushed up onto the raised dais.
Norma Sue Riley had been the queen of erotic romance before Sage had showed up on the scene and resented that Sage’s sales made hers seem paltry in comparison.
“Finally decide to join us, Sage?” Norma Sue asked with more than a bit of venom in her tone. “I’m afraid the only seat left is the one on the end.”
Sage and Norma Sue were not friends, and Sage was fairly sure Norma Sue had arranged for her to sit at the far end of the stage.
“That’s alright, Norma Sue—some of us don’t need to be center stage to let our light shine,” she responded brightly.
Some of the other panelists
tried to cover their laugher, while others, as well as those in the audience, didn’t.
“This question is for Sage. Sage, who was your inspiration for Roark, and as a follow-up, if he existed, would you fuck him?”
Sage laughed. “Follow-up first… absolutely and repeatedly.” More laughter. “I guess Roark is a kind of amalgamation of a lot of the spies and detectives from movies of the past, but he’s always been his own unique person. He just stepped forward one day and began telling me his story.”
“Sage, how long did it take for your career to take off and how hard was it to write?” asked another audience member.
“I was incredibly lucky. My very first book hit big, thanks a lot to my publisher, Gail Vincent. You know, the first one wasn’t so difficult, but the second one was a bitch. I was so afraid I would disappoint all of you.”
“Sage, I have one for you,” said Angelica Golden, a fellow author and friend. “What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever put in your butt?”
“Only the Queen of Butt Stuff would ask me that!” Sage said, laughing. “I don’t know that I’ve done anything weird… just the normal stuff. Is that too much information?”
The questioning went on for the entire two hours scheduled, most of the questions coming to Sage, who tried her best to include some of the other authors. Most of them were easy and fun to answer until the final one…
The final question took her a bit by surprise. “Sage, have you ever had a stalker, or has your fame ever caused you problems?”
“Not so far unless you count those of you that stalk me on Bookbub, Facebook, Instagram, and the like.” Again, there was laughter. “I’ve been very lucky. I’ve known nothing but kindness and support from my readers, and I thank you all for that.”
With that, the panel broke up. Her friend, Adaline Clark, leaned over and whispered, “I thought Norma Sue was going to have an apoplectic fit.”
