Chapter Eight
Robyn
Six in the morning felt like it came around in the blink of an eye. We hadn’t been particularly late back from the club, stumbling in just before midnight in the end, but with my creative juices flowing from all the new book ideas careening around my head, sleep had been almost impossible.
Book ideas hadn’t been the only thing keeping me awake. Oliver Wolfe, Mr Cool and Calm, had been on my mind, too. He’d also got my juices flowing, but in a rather different way. He’d managed to flick all my switches at once; in some ways he terrified me, or rather, his bedroom tastes did, but on the flip side he attracted and aroused me like no one I’d ever met.
Once the darkness of my room had settled around me last night, I’d remembered how his deep, rough voice had made me quiver, and how his intense gaze had sent shivers of lust running across my skin. I’d tried and failed to get him out of my head until the clock on my bedside table read 2:00 a.m. and I was still tossing and turning. In the end, I had resorted to easing the throbbing between my legs with my one and only vibrator. It had done the job, but it hadn’t felt as good as his touch no doubt would have. Perhaps I should invest in a vibrator collection like Sasha’s to give me some variety.
Thinking of the idea of Oliver touching me caused my skin to flush with heat all over again, and I threw off the covers with an impatient grumble. I fanned my face and tried to calm my raised breathing. Sleep clearly wasn’t going to happen, so I may as well try to get some of my ideas down on my laptop while they were fresh in my mind.
I rolled out of bed and stretched, my muscles complaining that I hadn’t had nearly enough time below the duvet yet. There was no point trying for more, though. My brain was way too active for sleep.
As I stepped from the rug onto the hard, wooden floor I realised my feet were sore, too, and after examining the blisters on my heels I grimaced. My gorgeous but hideously painful new boots sat in the corner of my room looking all sexy and innocent, but I threw them a disgusted glance and hobbled towards the kitchen in search of coffee.
As I got the milk from the fridge, my gaze passed across a photograph stuck to the door with a magnet. It was of me and my family, taken recently at a gathering for my brother Tom’s thirtieth birthday; my parents were smiling at me from the image, and my brother stood by my side with his characteristic grin spreading on his face and a ridiculous birthday hat on his head. The sheer normality of the image made me pause, then blush as I wondered what they would make of where I’d spent last night. God. My parents were so normal; living in their semi in Pinner with their cat, Ginge, a big garden, and an occasional night spent down the local pub.
I was pretty sure my mum would pass out if I told her I’d visited a sex club and been chatted up by an older man who liked to dominate women in bed.
A nervous giggle rose in my throat, and so, trying to push thoughts of my family aside, I grabbed the milk and turned away from the fridge ready to refocus on what I wanted to write today.
The stimulus of Club Twist had certainly given me plenty to get started on with my book, that was for sure, but as I stood waiting for my coffee to brew it was visions of Oliver that once again filled my mind. My fingers tightened around the mug in my hands as I recalled his confidence and intense demeanour. It had been a little intimidating to start with, but something about the way he’d so effortlessly taken control of the evening was definitely attractive.
Luckily, creativity and caffeine went hand in hand for me, so I filled my cup and padded into the lounge to fire up my shiny new laptop.
I moved around the apartment as quietly as possible, knowing that Chloe would be sleeping for a few more hours, and that Sasha probably wouldn’t be emerging from her bed – and hangover – until well into the afternoon.
Sitting at my computer, I took a deep breath, and began to type.
Three hours later, I sat back from my laptop and chewed on a fingernail as I let out an aggravated grunt. My ideas had been flowing brilliantly, but this part was getting decidedly tricky.
‘What’s up?’ croaked Sasha from her prone position in an armchair across the room. She had appeared from her bedroom about an hour ago, and after mumbling a groggy “good morning” and vowing never to drink vodka again, she had retrieved an ice pack from the fridge, clapped it to her forehead, and plonked down into the armchair.
She hadn’t moved since.
This was Sasha’s trademarked hangover recovery procedure. That plus a Chinese takeaway, which she’d probably ask me to order in another hour or so. Chloe was up, too, but currently in the shower, so I felt able to talk to Sasha about my current quandary.
‘I’m trying to write my first proper sex scene. I’m loosely using some of the stuff we saw last night for inspiration, but I’m stuck,’ I admitted, a blush blooming on my cheeks as I reread the text I’d written.
‘Stuck with what?’ she murmured, still concealed firmly behind her ice pack. At least with her eyes hidden it was less embarrassing for me to explain what I was struggling with.
‘Well, I don’t want to use the words “penis” or “vagina”, they sound so clinical, but I don’t know what words to use instead,’ I explained, feeling my blush deepen.
‘Hmmm … gotcha. Depends on the context, I think. Read me what you’ve written, and I’ll help out.’ There was a slight shift as Sasha made herself more comfortable, but I still couldn’t see her face, so, feeling brave, I cleared my throat and began to read out what I’d written so far.
‘The heavy beat of the music in the club only seemed to add to her excitement as sweat trickled down between her breasts and mingled deliciously with the remaining oil from her earlier massage. Taking advantage of her slick skin, the stranger wasted no time in sliding his fingers across her nipples, massaging them into needy peaks before trailing his hands to her exposed back and pulling her towards him so their naked hips clashed together, making her buck against him wildly.
‘Fingers of onlookers stretched to join in, tugging on her nipples and fondling her until they were red and sensitive, and she was writhing below them, desperate for more. The stranger growled possessively, and pushed the intruding hands away before he captured one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking hard, making her whimper from the beautiful mix of pleasure and pain that darted across her skin. Using his palm on her stomach, he pressed her willing body back against the hard, wooden podium so she was spread before him, laid out like an offering. Kicking her legs apart he exposed her slick …
‘Bleep!’ I made a comedy buzzer noise to indicate that I didn’t know what word to use to describe my character’s anatomy, then continued reading.
‘His throbbing … bleep! … pressed against her pliant flesh before driving forcefully into her in one hard thrust, causing them both to cry out and gasp in a pleasure that was shared by all those who were watching from the sidelines …’
Sitting back with a huff, I shrugged. ‘It carries on, but I’m stuck on words for their anatomy. Any ideas?’ I looked across at Sasha, and was surprised to see that she was now sitting up, staring at me with her mouth hanging open, the ice pack discarded on the floor by her feet.
Wincing at her gawking expression, I looked away from her as another blush rushed to my cheeks and my shoulders slumped. ‘Oh God, it’s utter crap, isn’t it?’ I groaned. ‘It’s only my first attempt, though, so maybe I can improve it?’ I mumbled awkwardly, embarrassed by how stupid I was for ever thinking I was capable of writing something sexy.
I barely ever had sex; how the hell did I think I’d be capable of writing it?
‘What are you talking about?’ Sasha exclaimed, her voice sounding painfully raspy from all the shouting last night.
‘Yeah, I guess that’s the problem, I don’t have a clue what I’m talking about,’ I agreed glumly, my shoulders slumping as I leaned forwards and rested my forehead on the dining table in defeat.
The sound of Sasha’s chair scraping the floor made me look up again. She jumped up, waving her arms around as if she was attempting to waft away a swarm of wasps at the same time as making a loud spluttering noise. Wow, hungover Sasha jumping around was not a usual occurrence. ‘No! That’s not what I meant. That was bloody brilliant, Robyn. Holy shit, it was hot! Talk about voyeuristic. Let me see the rest.’
Before I knew it, Sasha had crossed the room, shouldering me out of the way so she could lean down and avidly read the rest of the paragraph.
I blinked several times as I watched her greedily soaking up my words. Really? She liked it? I reread the paragraph myself, and have to say it was slightly arousing as the text conjured up erotic images in my mind. I hadn’t actually witnessed this exact thing last night, but it was loosely based on the couple having sex that I’d seen during the tour Oliver had given me. Obviously, as well as arousing me, the scene had also inspired me. Apparently, I was a voyeur. Who knew it? That would surprise Oliver.
Hmm. Oliver. So I was thinking about him yet again. It was slightly disconcerting that my mind kept replaying the moment when I’d felt his hot breath flutter across my lips and thought he was going to kiss me. I bet he would have, too, if Chloe and Sasha hadn’t interrupted us. The look in his eyes had been one of pure and utter determination.
Now that image really was arousing for me, but with Sasha right here next to me it was hardly the time to linger on it. Blinking several times, I shut Oliver out of my mind – for now, anyway – and tried to focus back on my writing.
‘I think in this instance you should go with “cock” and “folds”,’ Sasha decided with a firm nod, before pointing to the gaps in my work then pinching my coffee cup and leaning back on the wall to enjoy it.
‘His throbbing cock,’ I said out loud, testing it. ‘Yeah, that’s probably the best option,’ I agreed, typing it into my text. I definitely wasn’t using “penis”, and when books used words like “rod” or “phallus” I always cringed, so they were a big no-no for me, too. Once you got down to the nitty-gritty of it there really were only so many nouns for a good ol’ cock, and sometimes the tried and tested names were the best.
‘And you think “folds” for her vag?’ I said with a frown. I wasn’t quite as convinced by her choice this time.
‘Yeah, her slick folds,’ Sasha announced breathily, making speech mark actions with her fingers as she said it.
Seeing my sceptical look, she wagged my coffee cup at me, and gave me a determined glare. ‘It’s better than vagina, and I hate it when erotic books use the “c” word to describe a woman’s area. It’s just such a horrible word.’ I had to agree with Sasha there; it wasn’t one of my favourites, either. ‘Trust me on this, Robyn, I’ve read a lot of erotica and they always use words like lips, folds or slit, never an actual name.’
‘Right. Use describing words for the vagina rather than an actual name for it. I can do that,’ I said decisively before adding “folds” into my text and pressing the save icon.
‘But if you ever describe it as her “moist valley” or her “dark love cavern” I will unfriend you in real life and on Facebook,’ Sasha told me haughtily before flashing me a wink.
‘Love cavern?’ I asked on a giggle.
‘Yup. Seriously, I’ve read both of those in books before! Can you believe it?’
I actually couldn’t, but seeing as Sasha was the in-house expert on erotica I’d have to take her word for it, and we both promptly collapsed into creases of laughter.
‘God. What a way to start the day! I can’t believe we’re discussing this. I think I need a bucket load more coffee.’
‘I’ll stick the coffee maker on again,’ Sasha announced, ‘and I’ll get the takeaway menu. I need Chinese for lunch.’
It wasn’t exactly a run of the mill start to the weekend, was it? Writing explicit sex before the sun had even risen, then casually chatting about vocabulary for sexual body parts with my best friend.
Maybe if I could get this book written and published this would become a typical Saturday morning around here.
‘So, are we going to go back to Club Twist again? You know … to help your research?’ Sasha asked hopefully from the kitchen area, just as Chloe joined us once more.
The idea of going back to the club made my stomach quiver as I imagined seeing Oliver again. He’d said he was there most Fridays, so I’d know when to find him. He’d also offered me more … which was still playing on my mind. The unanswered question of “more what?” was still looping in my brain, closely followed up with the more important question of whether I wanted more with a man like him?
Maybe we could venture to the club again, just so I could ogle him a little more. He’d managed to kick start my libido for the first time in ages, so it couldn’t be all bad. ‘Um … I dunno. Maybe?’
‘I think we should. The guest passes we got allow us ten entries before we have to decide on membership or not, so we might as well use a few of them,’ Sasha said, before fanning her face dramatically. ‘It would be worth it just to see that guy again. My God, he was just so hot.’ Wiggling her eyebrows for effect, she giggled. ‘Bagsy first shot at him! Girl code!’
‘Which guy?’ Chloe asked in confusion, taking the words out of my mouth.
‘The hot one! You couldn’t exactly have missed him. He was at the bar a lot, and the best-looking bloke there. A bit older than us. He knew the staff really well, so he might have worked there, I’m not sure. I didn’t manage to speak to him for long.’
Was she talking about Oliver? Damn. He was hot, and older, and had been at the bar. And Sasha had spoken to him, albeit briefly, and in a very drunken state. Not that I would have been brave enough to do anything with him, but she’d shouted “girl code” which in our house meant one thing – he was now strictly off limits because she wanted first try at pulling him.
My lips drew tight as I tried to erase the image of my confident mate pouring herself all over Oliver. He’d probably love it. For some completely irrational reason, the thought made me feel sick to my stomach.