16. Becoming Addicted
BECOMING ADDICTED
“ I don’t know if I’ve got any more in me, Emma,” he moaned from under the pillow the next morning.
She’d been insatiable, and though most men wouldn’t have cared, he hadn’t slept much last night on top of it.
All she did was move around the king-sized bed, kicking him and hitting him with her arms, talking in her sleep, and tugging the covers off of him.
“Shhhh,” she said. “You wore me out. My body hurts.”
Huh?
If it wasn’t her, then what the hell was he feeling on his back?
Warren cracked his eyes open and there was a blur of gray swishing by his face.
His hand reached around and knocked a kitten off his back.
It was agile enough to land next to him, then tried to climb back on again.
He was awake enough now to realize it was four paws gently kneading into his shoulder blades.
He was more tired than he realized if he thought that was Emma asking for more.
He rolled this time, the kitten jumping into the middle of the bed, and then moving closer to him.
Emma was still curled up in a ball, the covers tucked under her chin.
Lucky decided he wanted some attention and ventured closer.
The last time he was here, the cat still did little more than look at him from a distance.
This time he was purring and rubbing his head against Warren’s side.
He reached out and gave him a little pet and the engine cranked up louder on the feline making his pleasure known.
“You’re loud,” he said. “Just like your mama.”
“What about my mother?” Emma mumbled against the pillow.
“I’m talking about your cat,” he said.
Somehow she managed to turn while staying in her cocoon of blankets, but just shifted the side she was on.
Her eyes were open and looking at him, then dropping to Lucky.
“I guess he likes you,” she said. “He never does that to me.”
“Never?” he asked. Lucky was rubbing his whole body against Warren now. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the hair falling off in the sheets.
“Nope,” she said. “When I want attention, he’s emotionally unavailable to me. When he wants attention, I’m busy. We hardly ever line up just right.”
He wanted to say like them.
It felt as if the past several weeks he was spending more time dreaming about this than if it would ever happen.
His mother was in town for the week.
Then he had some sponsorship meetings and a few with the coaches.
Last week she had to fly to California for something and took a few extra days with her mother.
She’d gotten back late on Tuesday and though he wanted to show up Wednesday, he knew she’d have things to do, lied that he did too, and asked if he could see her on Thursday.
She offered for him to come for the weekend.
It was unspoken how they were going to end up.
Shit, he hadn’t jerked off as much as he did in the past few weeks since he was in high school.
When he and Emma got on a video date, as she was affectionately calling them, they ended with him hard enough that he thought he was going to come in his pants without even the slightest touch.
“Maybe you need to put a little more effort in,” he said. “To match up with him.”
She lifted her eyebrows at him. “Are you talking about the cat or us?” She read right between that. “Because you’ve had just as much going on, if not more than me, in the past few weeks. I was only gone about five days.”
But she spent the last few days engrossed in her writing, and he didn’t want to disturb her.
Once he started the season, he had to be hyper-focused on that.
Maybe that was why he could understand more than most and tried not to let it get to him.
“I was talking about the cat,” he lied. “But I guess I can give him the attention.”
She smiled and his breath caught.
She was stunning to him.
The girl next door who was so open and free with her words and actions.
He’d never been with anyone quite like her before and if he had to pick his ideal mate, it’d be her in looks, but not in actions.
Maybe because he didn’t know someone like her even existed.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
No way he’d tell her his actual thoughts right now.
“I was dreaming about this podcast I was listening to yesterday before your cat woke me up.”
She sat up and pulled the covers up with her to cover her breasts. They were both naked in bed.
“Tell me more,” she said. “I wonder if I’ve heard it yet.”
It was one thing they talked about.
“It’s about these three teens that went missing twenty years ago. Investigators found two bodies within a week, but they never found the third. They think it’s the brother that did it.”
“ Bring Me Home ,” she said. “Yep, I heard it. There are things that don’t add up to me. Sometimes people create those podcasts for entertainment rather than facts. It’s hard to filter it out.”
“I felt the same way,” he said. “Maybe that is why I was dreaming of it and thinking of it now. I knew you could do a much better story.”
“Oh yeah,” she said. “I find that sweet you think so though.”
“I’m becoming addicted to your novels.”
“Awwww,” she said. “I’m getting ready to start another soon. I finished my draft right before I flew to California. I’ve got a bit more editing to do, then I’ll take a solid week or so to put things in place for the next one. I can’t decide which way I want to go.”
“Anything I can help you with?” he asked.
“Well,” she said. “I’ve told no one these things before, but sure. I can give you the premise and see your thoughts. If you don’t like where it’s going, then maybe I’ll go with the next one.”
He sat up and put his head against the headboard. “Hit me with it.”
Warren couldn’t believe how much he loved their conversations.
He’d never had this with anyone else in his life. Man or woman.
“I still have to figure out their names. But the heroine is a police detective now. When she was thirteen, she and her best friend were walking home from softball practice one night and got kidnapped. She escaped, but her best friend didn’t.
Someone had drugged them both for two weeks, and she’s made it her mission to find out who did it.
No one ever caught him. She started having flashbacks and reopened the case.
In the meantime, an FBI agent working a case states away has evidence tying the perp back to her kidnapping. ”
“So there is a recent case now?” he asked. “As if he’s stopped and started again, or was just never suspected in all these years?”
“I’m working on that part,” she said. “I’m still trying to figure it all out.”
“Is this one of your sexy ones or for your publisher?”
“Mine,” she said. “I think my hero is going to look a bit like you.”
He rolled his eyes.
There was no way he was going to say that he was hoping she didn’t have all these high expectations after reading her books.
Talk about putting some weight on his shoulders to give her multiple orgasms.
Last night he didn’t have to worry because it hadn’t taken much before she was melting in his arms.
“Not too much like me,” he said.
“Nope,” she said, her hand coming out and pushing her cat out of the way, then tracing his abs with the tip of her finger. “More like your body.”
“Glad to know you appreciate it,” he said.
“I kept up with you well,” she said. “Didn’t I? Admit it, you were surprised.”
“Pleasantly so,” he said. “Back to your story. Could you make the friend’s older brother be an FBI agent or something? They are both still searching for answers. The brother could blame the heroine for being alive and she has survivor guilt or something.”
“They can’t stand each other but now have to come together to find answers,” she added, then jumped up and flung the covers back.
Her naked ass ran to the bathroom and she returned with a pad and pen in her hand.
“Where was that?”
“Next to the toilet. I hid it. Sorry. Sometimes when I’m going poo I need to write down ideas and it’s nice to have that handy when I can’t get up right then.”
He opened his mouth and closed it. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”
“We all poop, Warren. With all those greens you eat, I bet you go a lot.”
He was laughing now. “Moving on,” he said.
“Yep. Keep talking. I like where you’re going. Ignore me while I write.”
“You want me to give you my thoughts?”
She turned her head to him. “Duh,” she said. “This is awesome. I love it. I’m totally going with it. Tell me whatever you think. It doesn’t mean I’ll use it, but it’s still fuel for the fire. I just have to decide which fuel I’ll use and when.”
“Well,” he said. “Since you’re asking. Maybe have him go in the service or something, then get out and go to the FBI. He has no idea she’s a detective. They could have moved away after it happened, the parents’ marriage could have ended. I don’t know, all sorts of things in their past.”
“Enemies to lovers,” she said. “I could slide that in there for the romantic aspect. Back to the crime.”
“I need breakfast to come up with those things,” he said. “I was just thinking of your plot.”
She wrote some more and he let her, then she put the pad down and turned to kiss him.
“Thank you for that,” she said.
“You’re welcome.”
“Maybe we can kind of work on it together if you don’t mind. When things pop into your head, let me know. I’ll dedicate this book to you.”
“You’d do that?” he asked. “Put my name down?”
“Since no one knows we are dating right now?—”
“Your boyfriend,” he said.
“Since no one knows I’m your girlfriend, I’d stop short of using your full name. I’ll figure it out. You’ll know what it means. It will be between us.”
He leaned in to kiss her. “Between us,” he said. “I like that.”