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  • The Girl Who Wrote Erotica, Book One: The Method (Contemporary Romance) Page 2

The Girl Who Wrote Erotica, Book One: The Method (Contemporary Romance) Read online

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  I think I was beyond second-guessing myself at this point, and probably somewhere around the third- or fourth-guessing stage. But I couldn’t back out now. I had a date – and Natasha Banks wasn’t the type to stand up her date, no matter what.

  When I arrived at the club, I searched the room for Sam but didn’t spot her. It was only 8:50; I still had a few minutes. My heart was going crazy in my chest, and my palms were sweaty. That’s weird, I thought. I never got this nervous about my dates with guys. What was different about this one? Nothing, I tried to reason with myself. Absolutely nothing. But my body didn’t seem to believe it.

  I made myself comfortable at the bar, like I’d told Sam, and ordered a glass of red wine. Despite getting lingering stares from a few other women, I kept my eyes to myself and tried not to give off a vibe of approachability. I waited for over twenty minutes, but there was still no sign of my fake date. I couldn’t believe she’d be late, after our conversation this morning. By the time I’d almost finished my second glass of wine, I’d made up my mind that she had dropped out of the plan and wasn’t going to show up.

  Just as I’d given up hope, a figure in the corner of my eye pulled up a stool next to me. I stole a quick glance and saw that it was a stunningly sexy blonde woman. Her red silk dress poured down her body like water and hung completely open in the back, revealing her flawless skin. She leaned her long and creamy arms leaned onto the bar, and turned to face me.

  “Hello,” she said. I met the woman’s gaze to return the greeting, and gasped when I saw her face. I had to do a double take when I realized who it was.

  “Sam?” I choked. Could this really be the same shy girl with glasses I’d met earlier today?

  She gave a coy grin. “I’m sorry, have we met before?”

  “Huh?” I blurted, then caught myself. She was already playing the part, I realized, and playing it well. I barely recognized her.

  “Uh, no – sorry, um, you just… look like someone I know,” I told her, joining into the game. I sipped my drink, looking at her over the rim of the glass. Sam’s eyes were masked with dark smoky makeup, and her lips were plump and red, matching her dress.

  “Care to join me for a drink?” I offered.

  “Sure,” she replied with a smile. God, she looked completely different. It’s amazing what a red dress and some makeup will do sometimes. The movement of her red, juicy lips was strangely captivating. I don’t know if it was the pretense under which we were meeting, or the atmosphere of the bar, but I was feeling almost giddy around her.

  Nervous, I cleared my throat and ordered a glass of wine for her as well. It came quickly, and for a minute or two we both sipped our drinks quietly, catching teasing glances from one another but not saying much of anything. Sam didn’t have to say much, though, to give off a sultry vibe. She moved as if sex radiated form her pores, with fluid arms and long legs that revealed themselves through the thigh high slit as she crossed them towards me, ‘accidentally’ brushing up against mine.

  She was good at this.

  “So… are you here with anybody?” I asked. I noticed that the front of her barely-there dress had a plunging neckline down to her navel, imitating the back, and her cleavage played peek-a-boo with my eyes.

  “I am now,” Sam replied, and swept a graceful finger over her bottom lip, bringing my attention to it. Oh, fuck. I had a strong, sudden urge to suck on it. What was happening to me? I quickly chased away the thought with another swallow of wine.

  “What’s your name?” I asked her.

  “Samantha,” she replied, exhaling the word like a curl of smoke. “Yours?”

  “Natasha,” I replied meekly. I couldn’t believe how smoothly she’d put me in the role of the pursued, and herself as the seductress. She’d completely turned the tables on me, and I didn’t know how to react to it. She leaned in and caressed my thigh, staring into my eyes as she touched me. “That’s a beautiful name,” she purred.

  Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was something else, but my skin tingled at her touch. It was soft and sensual, so much different from a man’s. With the other hand, Sam brushed the fingertips down her neck and drew a line between her breasts. It was a brash, almost lurid display of sexuality, and I noticed that she was getting even more glancing looks from around the bar. Where was the timid girl I’d met this morning?

  I saw my chance to try and regain control of the situation. “You want to get out of here?” I suggested.

  “And do what?” she asked, teasing. God, she looked gorgeous. Thankfully, I felt my confidence returning. I leaned to her ear, my lips barely brushing it. “I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

  I offered Sam my hand to help her down from the stool. She eagerly accepted it, and as she hopped down I noticed that her nipples were slightly stiff under her dress. I grinned to myself. So I wasn’t the only one getting a little turned on by what we were doing.

  I threw some money down on the bar and we exited to the street. Outside, I hailed a cab and we hopped in the back of the first one to stop. “Corner of Washington and First,” I told the driver. I settled back into my seat and glanced at my date. I still couldn’t believe that it was the same girl I met today. It was as if she’d become a different person altogether.

  Sam’s hand soon found my leg again, and she began to massage my thigh. I was still so surprised that she was the one taking charge of the situation. I was used to being the one calling the shots, even with men. This change of roles was making me nervous and uneasy, but undeniably excited at the same time. There was something so brazenly dirty about what she was doing. I was getting turned on beyond belief, much quicker than I’d imagined.

  As if she read my mind, her fingers then slid up my leg and under my short dress. I gasped and gave her a look. She threw it right back at me, smiling and licking those luscious lips. I wasn’t wearing any stockings, just panties. Sam pushed them aside and gently teased my inner thighs with her finger. My hips contracted violently when she touched me. Holy shit, I thought, my heartbeat escalating in tempo and volume. I stifled a moan as Sam’s thumb reached up to my clit, sending a wave of pleasure through my body. I desperately wanted to touch her. Every part of me wanted to rip her dress off, see her beautiful breasts and hold them in my hands while I tasted her plump red mouth. But I was too shy to make a move here in the backseat of a cab like this. As much as I liked this, I pushed her hand away for now.

  “Let’s wait till we get home,” I whispered to her.

  She leaned forward and stared into my eyes. “Whatever you want,” she purred.

  And then, to my utter shock, she planted a soft kiss on my lips. Wow. This was a sensation like nothing I had ever felt. Her lips were so much softer and more supple than a man’s; in that brief moment, I swear I felt sparks pass between us. As she pulled away from me, it was all I could do to resist grabbing her and pulling her lips to mine again.

  It was an excruciating ten minutes before we finally made it to my house. The cab came to a hasty stop and I threw the driver a twenty dollar bill, refusing to pull my eyes from Sam’s. We both climbed out and ran up the stone staircase to my brownstone. I jammed the keys in and opened the door, pulling my date in behind me.

  We didn’t bother to exchange words. I barely got the door closed when she pushed me against the wall and dove in for another kiss. Her mouth was soft, warm and juicy as her tongue hungrily played with mine. She tasted like wine and bubble gum. It was delicious. We fumbled through the house, making our way towards my bedroom without breaking our embrace. Zippers came unzipped, straps were loosened, and shoes went flying; soon, we found ourselves naked and marveling at one another’s curvaceous bodies. I pushed her down onto the bed, lowering myself on top of her. I gently squeezed her breasts, which fit nicely in my hands, and rubbed her nipples until they were hard.

  “Suck on them,” Sam’s voice told me. Her voice had a huskiness to it that hadn’t been there before, and with it came a strange authority. I did as she ordered and ope
ned my mouth around one of her erect nipples, massaging and sucking until she groaned. I felt a shiver run through her body and she pulled me down underneath her. I watched as her petite figure climbed over my bed until her lips were near my pussy. She opened my wet lips with her tongue and fervently licked, sucked and teased me, paying most of her attention to my swollen clit. I grabbed a handful of her hair, gasping and grunting as she brought me to higher and higher throes of pleasure.

  Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Come here,” I gasped. I sat up and hauled Sam to my face, kissing her passionately. Then I threw her down onto the bed and buried my face in her thighs, licking and sucking her just the way she’d done to me. She moaned and twisted in pleasure in front of me, giving me pleasure just watching her. Her body looked gorgeous. My fingers inside her, I kept up the pressure on her clit, sucking it gently with an even rhythm. “Fuck!” she cried out, grabbing hold of the pillows next to her.

  I quickened my pace and increased the pressure, causing her to moan even more. With a final gasping cry, I watched her body convulse and felt the warm juices flow from her pussy and drip down my hands. I’d never watched another woman come before. I moved up and stretched out beside Sam, kissing and rubbing her irresistible breasts. But she grabbed my wrists and kissed my mouth once before climbing on top, straddling me between her warm thighs.

  “Now,” she said breathlessly, “your turn.”

  Before I knew it, her tongue was back to my pussy, flicking my clit and licking my juices. God, she knew what she was doing. She took her time with me, languorously pushing me closer and closer to orgasm. I closed my eyes and let her take me to new heights of pleasure. I couldn’t take this for long. My climax came out of nowhere, exploding in her mouth. She kept going, licking and massaging my warm and wet pussy until my back arched right off of the bed. My body was drained of energy, my mind blown. I lay there panting breathlessly, not trusting myself to speak.

  “So,” Sam said, breaking the silence. She’d already regained some of her composure. “How was that?”

  I pulled her close for a gentle kiss. “That was amazing,” I told her. “Where did you learn to do that?”

  She shrugged and giggled. “I don’t know. Where did you learn?”

  I had no answer. For me, it felt like it was coming naturally. It was my body reacting to her sexy acting. So, for lack of a better answer, I just shrugged too. “I guess the method really works,” I teased.

  We giggled and embraced each other. I pulled the blanket over our tired bodies, and we were soon fast asleep.

  Chapter 3: The Mystery

  The next morning I awoke feeling more refreshed than I’d been in a while.

  Leaning over to grab my cell phone, I saw that Sam was still asleep, her face belonging once again to the innocent girl I had met in the coffee shop. It made me smile to see it. I flipped open my phone and dialed.

  “Hello, Paragon Talent Agents. Byron Maxwell speaking.”

  “Hey, Byron, it’s Tasha.”

  “Oh, hey Tash!” replied my agent friend. “What’s new?”

  I looked over at Samantha’s sleeping body. “Well, I was wondering… Are you looking for any new actresses?”

  I heard him smile on the other end. “I’m always looking for talent. Is she any good?”

  I couldn’t help but grin. “Oh, she’s good, real good.”

  As I hung up, Sam stretched next to me with a big yawn, reminding me of a kitten waking from a nap. “Who were you talking to?” she asked.

  “Someone who’s going to want to meet you,” I responded vaguely, finally crawling out from under the covers and pulling on a tank top and some shorts so I could go find some breakfast. I didn’t typically keep much real food on hand in the apartment, living the single life of a starving artist, but I had some oatmeal, Pop Tarts, and pancake mix – although unfortunately, no syrup.

  Sam plodded out of the bedroom shortly after me, wrapped in the blanket as though it were a towel. I’d almost forgotten she’d come in a dress and didn’t have a change of clothes. I would have offered her something to wear, but I doubted my clothes would fit. I wasn’t heavy at all, but where her body was so incredibly slim, I definitely had some curves on me.

  “I have some clothes in the top drawer you can borrow if you want,” I told her anyway. “And I don’t have much in the way of breakfast to offer you… so, Pop Tarts or oatmeal?”

  She shook her head, yawning again. “I don’t really eat breakfast, just coffee.” Shit. I spent so much time at the coffee shop that I’d never bothered to replace my coffee maker when it had finally given out. What kind of hostess was I? But then I had an idea, one that seemed strangely fitting.

  “Come on, then,” I told her. “Grab some clothes from my drawer, and I’ll take you out for coffee.”

  She smiled gratefully and disappeared back into the bedroom, coming out in a pair of corduroy shorts and a loose fitting tank top, looking so casually sexy that I could barely take my eyes off her. Distracted to the max, I had a hard time keeping my hands on the wheel and my eyes on the road, even if the coffee shop was only a few blocks away. I didn’t know what had come over me, considering we were just playing a role in all of this – weren’t we? – but I was suddenly more attracted to her than I’d been to anyone in a very long time.

  We stood in line behind several other people apparently trying to wake up, and I almost laughed at Sam’s drooping eyelids and her continuous yawns. The guy in front of us hit the front of the line and ordered, then turned to chuckle at her. He caught my eye and seemed to give me the slightest of winks, so that I wasn’t even sure he’d done it. He moved away from me in the next instant, before I could even register him fully. I frowned. He’d looked familiar, but I couldn’t place his face.

  I stepped up and motioned for Sam to order. “Hi!” she chirped. “I’ll have a venti white chocolate mocha in whole milk with extra crème and a shot of vanilla.”

  I rolled my eyes and shook my head at her. “One of the most complicated orders I’ve heard to date.”

  The barista suppressed a smirk. “The usual, Tasha?”

  I thought for a moment, almost saying yes, but then decided to try something different. “Let me have the same thing my friend is having. I’d like to branch out for once.”

  Now it was Sam’s turn to laugh. “Just to warn you, the sugar content in there is enough to send a small child to their grave. But it’s delicious, I promise.” I pushed her playfully, making her giggle, then paid and moved to wait at the end of the counter.

  The guy I’d seen was still waiting for his order, and I studied him out of my peripheral vision. Short, dark hair, spiked up messily. Five o’clock shadow rising over a strong jaw. Aristocratic nose; blue-green eyes; perfect skin. He was tall, probably six-foot-two or so. He looked so damn familiar, yet I couldn’t place him…

  And suddenly, it popped into my head. No, I hadn’t seen him before, at least not in real life.

  But he’d been in my head.

  About six months ago, I’d had an escapade with a young man who was an excellent lover – but in the looks department, he hadn’t been quite the erotic hero most women wanted to read about. So, while I’d done my usual method of turning my experience into a reader’s pleasure, I’d taken some, shall we say, creative liberties in describing the male character.

  And the male lead I’d described – the guy I’d pictured in my mind – was summed up, to a T, by the guy now standing in front of me. It was all there: the scruff, the chiseled body. And most of all, he had this allure about him, something indescribable, but essential nonetheless. It was more than just mere confidence. It was beyond that. He looked… dangerous. I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

  He seemed to squirm a little, but I didn’t think he knew I was scrutinizing him. I was pretty discreet… unless I wanted to be noticed. And right now, I totally didn’t. I had a project to complete, and it didn’t involve finding a man to hold me at night. I was standing next to m
y current research project already, and I wasn’t interested in anything else.

  Besides, I slept with men to create characters, not because they looked like a character I’d already written about.

  Creepy, I decided. I turned quickly away from him, wanting to derail this train of thought as fast as possible. I turned back to Sam, to see if she’d noticed anything, but she was busy checking her phone. The confident, sexually forward woman I’d met last night seemed to have completely disappeared, replaced once again by the naïve-seeming young girl I was used to.

  Once we’d collected our coffee orders, we headed back to my place. We had an uneventful breakfast, and Sam left quickly after that. We both seemed to sense that while last night had been great, it wasn’t something that was meant to continue. We’d had our fun, explored our boundaries a little, and that was that. But still, we had a new sense of affection and closeness to each other that I typically only felt with very close friends.