7. Chapter 7
He’s totally not my type
I lean back against the inside of the door and press a hand to my heaving chest. If I were wearing pearls, I’d be clutching them like a motherfucker.
Sweet baby bunnies in a basket. I just had lunch and engaged in the flirting Olympics with Reno Swain.
Yes, I recognized the hockey defenseman for the Denver Raptors the instant he gave that cocky little chin jerk in the dining room. The chin jerk I should have ignored but didn’t.
I’d been drawn to him like a moth to a flame… like bees to honey… like a horny author to a hot hockey player. Choose your simile.
You don’t date hockey players, Juliette McNamara, I remind myself.
But you can use your little flirtation incident to write a steamin’ hot scene for your book, my stupid self reminds my smarter self.
Dashing to the bedroom, I dive onto my bed and flip open my laptop with thoughts of Reno flashing through my head. His cockiness and swagger. His million-watt smile. His forearms.
Dear. God. The forearms. Braced on either side of my head while he’s on top of me. His hips working like pistons. His strong back putting in some damn fine work.
And let’s not forget that very obvious bulge that was barely contained behind those black shorts.
I begin typing, my brain a rabid organ coming up with the words I’d been seeking for what seemed like forever. Any hint of writer’s block went up in smoke—as did my panties—as my fingers flew over the backlit keyboard .
Though Reno hadn’t blatantly talked dirty to me today, the velvety timbre of his deep voice is my inspiration, and I write like a demon. Word after word. Steamy sentence after steamy sentence. Page after page.
An hour later, I sit back against the headboard and re-read everything, blushing when I realize I had accidentally typed Reno’s name three times in place of my male main character’s name, Reid.
I quickly make the changes before I jot a handwritten note in my notebook to change Reid’s eyes from blue to green in the previous chapters.
The reasoning for that is embarrassingly obvious.
Reno Swain, also known as Reno Swoon to puck bunnies everywhere, has the most gorgeous green eyes, a shade darker than sea glass.
I also decide to change Reid’s hair from a dark-brown crew cut to an inky black that spills over his head and swirls into loopy, soft curls.
That change was also inspired by my lunch partner.
Going back to the beginning of the chapter, I add in a few more details. Like the way Reno’s— I mean, Reid’s —intense green eyes never leave Anna the entire time he’s inside her. There’s just something so hot about all the eye contact while fucking missionary.
I also add in a description of the mess Anna makes of those silky curls of Reid’s.
Hmmm, maybe some scratches down his back? Yes, definitely. Deep ones that draw blood to the surface of his otherwise perfect skin.
That inspires a new idea for a sweet post-coital shower scene where Anna lovingly cleans the wounds she’d left on him.
I open up a new chapter and begin typing, my mind feeling clearer than it has in months.
The sweet scene eventually turns into a dirty one where Reno— no, Reid, dammit —bends her over and fucks her from behind.
Water sluicing over bare skin. The slapping of wet flesh as things get rough. Fuck. This is goddamn hot.
I read the newest chapter again, proud that I hadn’t gotten the name wrong this time. It’s good. Damn good. And my panties are a drenched mess beneath my sundress .
My thighs are clenched so tightly together you couldn’t slip a hair between them, so after uploading the new chapters to two of my beta readers, I set my laptop aside and strip off my dress and panties.
Thinking of the toy in the nightstand, I reach for it, praying it holds enough charge to get the job done.
It sure as hell isn’t going to take long.
The welcoming buzz is music to my ears, and I slide the lemon-shaped device through the lips of my sex.
Shit, I’m not even going to need lube. I’m wet enough to fill up a kiddie pool.
It takes a few seconds to find the right spot and play around with the settings, but once everything is settled, I press my head back into the pillow with a loud groan. Of his name.
“Reno. Fuck. Right there.”
Closing my eyes, I feel full, soft lips around my clit. A wet tongue lapping up everything I have to give. Deep-throated curses that tell me he’s enjoying this every bit as much as I am.
My free hand slides into his hair, tugging those inky locks and grinding my pussy against his face.
“Yes, don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
“Not. Stopping. Ever,” he says between licks. “Say my goddamn name while you come all over my face.”
“Reno. Reno. Reno,” I chant, arching my hips up as his big hands cup my ass and he goes feral on me, lapping, sucking, even applying some well-placed nibbles.
And that does it. An orgasm slashes through me, traveling up my spine and darkening my vision at the edges. “So good,” I pant, wringing out every ounce of bliss from my climax.
My body is loose as an overcooked noodle when I collapse back onto the bed, my breathing fast and heavy.
When I finally open my eyes, I’m surprised to find I’m alone.
There’s no hair twisted between my fingers.
No wet mouth smiling up at me from between my legs.
No Reno Swain. Just a yellow sex toy held in my trembling fingers.
“Wow, you give good head, lemon,” I tell it before dropping it onto the mattress beside me. I’m suddenly exhausted and pull the cushy duvet over my naked body.
My nap is short—only thirty minutes—but I wake up invigorated, ready to tackle another chapter. This one isn’t spicy, but it’s filled with flirting and banter between the two main characters. The words rush from my fingers like a waterfall, and I laugh out loud several times.
Plot twists and sex scenes are fun, but the stuff in between is what I love most about writing. Building a story from the ground up… giving my characters personalities and watching them grow and develop… yeah, that’s my jam.
I knock out that chapter by five in the afternoon and stand from the bed. My shoulders and neck are tight, and since I’m ahead of schedule, I decide to reward myself with a Dr Pepper and a walk.
Throwing on fresh panties, shorts, a T-shirt, and sandals, I stick my key card in one pocket and my phone in the other. As I leave through the front door, my eyes drift over to cottage five, and I grin to myself. If he only knew the fantasies I had about him earlier.
Inside the gift shop, I pay for my drink and then run into Ann and Stephanie, two of the Unicorn Unit ladies, as they’re perusing the magnets and shot glasses.
“Juli, so good to see you,” Ann says, giving me a hug. “When are you going to come play with us?”
“Yeah,” Stephanie adds, “Chris and Inge Ricci—remember, we introduced you to them at breakfast?—they want to have playtime at their cottage. Victoria and Elvis are coming too.”
I think about it. One night of socializing wouldn’t kill me. I’ll be here for three full weeks.
“That sounds fun,” I reply, “as long as we’re not playing Monopoly. Most boring game ever.” I make a face.
Stephanie and Ann burst into laughter, and Ann smacks my arm. “You are so funny, girl.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “We were thinking more along the lines of Twister. ”
“Now you’re talking my language,” I say.
I used to love playing Twister as a kid.
“How about, ummmm, Wednesday night? I’m in the groove with my writing right now, so I’m rewarding myself.
” I hold up my Dr Pepper in a salute. “I’m going to stretch my legs for a few minutes and then get back to it.
And I need to write a few chapters tomorrow too. ”
“Sounds great,” Stephanie gushes. “We’ll see you about nine at cottage twenty. It’s one of the deluxe ones.”
“I’ll be there,” I promise.
Deciding to do my leg stretching at the beach, I meander down one of the sandy paths leading to the water. Slipping out of my sandals, I walk in the surf, loving the feel of the cool, blue water against my feet.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out and check the display. It’s from Eden Osbourne, one of my beta readers.
Eden and Holly are what I like to call my first line of beta readers.
I send them chapters as I finish them, and they critique them, letting me know of any problems or potential plot holes.
Then, once the book is finished, I send it to the rest of my beta team.
After everyone has read it and given their opinions, I’m ready to send the manuscript to my editor.
I smile at the email from Eden on my phone.
From: Eden Osbourne
To: Juli Mack
Re: What the hell did I just read?
Seriously, woman. Those were the hottest chapters I’ve ever read. I had to call my husband and tell him to come home early from work. He said to thank you profusely from him, BTW.
You know I adore everything you’ve ever written, but you have leveled up with this book, and I can’t wait to read more. Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it! Hopefully, it’s firsthand experience giving you all this inspiration. *wink wink*
I’m so proud of you.
Hugs,
Eden
Her last sentence makes my heart happy. I’ve never met Eden—never even seen her face—and yet I feel like she’s a close friend. She’s been an ARC reader for me since my very first book over a decade ago, and a few years back, I asked her to start beta reading for me. Best decision ever.
Eden is incisive and sharp as tack, and she’s become a voice I can count on to tell me if something isn’t working. She’s also got a wicked sense of humor, just like me.
While I’m reading the email again, a notification for a FaceTime call from Holly appears. Besides being my other first-line beta reader, Holly is also married to the older of my two brothers. Plopping down onto the sand with the Caribbean ocean at my back, I answer.
“Hey, sis!”