Sydney

If the screen could talk back, what would it say?

Random shit like that pops into my head as I stare at my computer monitor for the thousandth time today. I am one crazy ass bitch. Maybe I should fuck Carter and get it out of my system.

Distracted by Carter and his rock hard body and sexy smirk, I cannot stop thinking about how he fingered my pussy, and then bailed on me as if that wasn’t a shitty thing to do. I guess I deserved it. After all, I did start this game.

As a romance author, I spend a lot of my time locked away in my writing cave for hours or days on end. Today is no different. With my current deadlines, I’m cranking out between five to ten thousand words per day, typing faster than I had ever imagined. Or at least I was until I met Carter. He screwed up everything, messed with my Zen. I need it back.

How did I let him get under my skin?

One thing I’ve always had with men are boundaries. Rules and limits are what keep them in check. Otherwise, they’ll walk all over you, or at least that’s my experience with men.

Staring at the document on my screen, my mind drifts between Carter and my story. Get the fuck out of my head! Toned arms, thick calves, chiseled abs, an ass you can bounce quarters off, and that smile…Fuck, fuck, fuckety fuck. I cannot have that sexy caveman invade my writing zone—not unless he wants to find himself in one of my books. At the rate we’re going, that is an excellent possibility. Horny romance author strings along hot as puck hockey player, challenging him to a game. A very kinky sex game.

That could work.

I pick up the notepad and pen in front of me, biting down on the cap, as I consider this idea for a book. But how would it work? Could I even sell a book like this? I could pitch it to my editor and see if he thinks I’m crazy. He usually does, but that doesn’t stop him from going along with my ideas. Because my brand of crazy sells.

Carter has me under a spell. Stringing him along until I make a decision should be easy. But I already made a choice. I want him so bad I can feel him deep down in my bones, aching to be with him. Too bad I have rules, all of which are in place for a reason. By now, he either thinks I have lost my mind or understands that I am in control of this situation. Control is essential for me.

My cell phone rings, vibrating across my desk and toward me. I’m thrilled to have a distraction but also afraid that Carter is on the other end of the call. Or what if it’s my editor? With my writing going nowhere and Carter on the brain, I could be at this plotting shit all day. I hate deadlines, and the outlines my editor insists I write for my books.

That only leads to more half-assed ideas, like the one I’m mulling over for Carter, and a lot of wasted time on my part. And time equals money in this business. If I can’t crank out the books on a decent schedule, the money will disappear along with my sales.

Relief washes over me when I check my Caller ID and see it’s my bestie and co-blogger, Kennedy. I have missed her so damn much lately. My face lights up, a smile reaching up to my eyes and hurting my jaw it’s so wide.

Before she met hotshot Tyler Kane we were an unstoppable duo. Kennedy was the Long Sticks to my Hard Shots in our crazy sports themed sex blog called Long Sticks and Hard Shots. She’s a sports reporter, always adding the sports puns and humor to my sexy, raunchy articles. Now, I hardly ever see her.

We almost never get together to plot out our week of blog posts or new ideas for our followers. Kennedy had moved into Tyler’s mansion with him in New Jersey, just on the other side of the bridge, right after things had gotten serious. Their relationship progressed at an insane rate.

I pick up the phone and hold it up to my ear. “Hey, K. Perfect timing.”

“Oh, yeah? Let me guess. You’re in the middle of writing a scene, and you’re stuck again?” I can hear the condescension in her tone.

She knows me so well it brings a smile to my face. I love that we have this sister thing between us, which makes me miss her even more now that Tyler has stolen her away from me. “How did you guess?” I deadpan.

“I have best friend super powers,” she jokes, laughing to herself. “What are you having trouble with this time? Do you need another word for cock? You know Tyler still hasn’t let me live that one down. I doubt he ever will.”

Because of me, Kennedy had asked Tyler over the phone, before they had ever met, for another word for cock. Because he’s a gentleman, he gave her a few words before she had the chance to cut him off. She thought he was some random pervert. That was their first interaction.

He said he knew she was a keeper after that night. Or at least that’s what he said a while after they started dating. The two of them are weird and quirky, and that sort of thing works for them. Kind of like Carter and me.

I envy the relationship Kennedy has built with Tyler. It all happened so fast. What had started out as just hot sex had turned into a lot more than they had expected. Tyler was, I guess you could say, broken before my Kennedy got a hold of him. She has a way of fixing people who need help. Kennedy sure as shit did it with me back in high school. To this day, she still thinks I saved her, but I was the one who needed saving.

“No, I think I have enough words for cock saved in my arsenal at this point. It’s Carter.” I suck in a deep breath and let it out, gazing out the window of my office. “He infuriates me.”

All day I zoned out, contemplating my relationship with Carter. Should I give in?

“I don’t know what to do about Carter,” I confess.

“What’s there to think about?” She says this as if dating a professional hockey player is the easiest choice for me. I have enough attention directed at me because of my romance novels. “He’s hot, probably amazing in bed, and you like him. I don’t see the problem, Syd. This should be a no-brainer for you.”

She’s right. Kennedy is always right when it comes to dating and my love life. Too bad I never listen to anyone. I am a stubborn ass and even more so when it comes to men. Despite what people may think based on my personal appearance, I do not have my shit together. And I certainly do not have it all figured out when it comes to the opposite sex.

For as many men fall at my feet, gushing over me, the other half use me for sex or a date for a charity event. That’s the part most people don’t see—Kennedy included. She has me placed so high up on a pedestal that even my best friend thinks of me as above other women. Except I have no fucking clue what I am doing. I just make shit up as I go along. And playing games, like the one I have going with Carter, is the only way I know how to safeguard my heart.

That’s my superpower. As long as I can keep my defenses up, no one can get through the impenetrable wall I have built around myself. It works for me, and while not everyone will understand, it’s the only thing I have ever known.

“I like him.” I sigh because I hate to admit it aloud. “Carter is hot and built and everything I would usually go for, but I’m also afraid he just wants sex. He’ll bail as soon as I give in.”

“He definitely wants sex.” I cringe at her words. “Last night, he stopped by the house after your date and complained to Tyler and me for about an hour.” She chuckles, apparently finding this amusing. I wish I did. “What did you do to him? He was really pissed.”

Last night, we actually watched TV and didn’t touch each other once. It was weird, but I still had a good time. Carter refused to open up to me again, so I bought a movie on cable, and we watched it in almost silence. After that stunt he pulled the other night, he deserved the cold shoulder. I finally gave into him, allowed him to kiss and touch me, and then he wouldn’t even let me come. I was not about to set myself up for that failure again.

“See, I knew that was all he was looking for out of me,” I tell Kennedy, annoyed. “You know I am getting so sick and tired of all the expectations. Just because I write romance novels for a living doesn’t mean I walk around without panties and flash my pussy to the first guy who glances in my direction.”

Kennedy laughs in my ear before composing herself. “I think you’re overacting, Syd. Yes, he wants sex. He’s a man. They’re pretty much hardwired to think that way. But I also believe he likes you. In the time I have known Tyler, I have yet to hear Carter bitch about a woman he was dating. In fact, I have never heard him mention a single girl until you. That tells me you are getting under his skin. I think he’ll play along with you, but at some point, you will need to bend a little.”

“I told him I would make it worth the wait.” My tone is so defensive I almost don’t recognize my voice. Then, I feel sorry for taking out my frustration on Kennedy. “He needs to wait and see what I have in store for him. It will be worth every second. I just…” I have no idea what else there is to say about my predicament with Carter.

Why do I feel the need to justify why I am doing this? Is it not obvious to my best friend, the one person in this world who really understands me?

“Oh, I don’t doubt that.” Kennedy snorts as she laughs. “You’ll work your Sydney Voodoo and have Carter begging for more by the time you’re through with him.”

I roll my eyes as I kick my feet up on the desk and lean back in my chair. “While that may be true, I’m not so sure if Carter will play the game with me much longer. He was acting weird last night. It could be fun, maybe even heighten our sexual experience, if he follows my lead. But I think he’s losing interest.”

“Based on the part of the conversation I heard between Tyler and Carter, I would say you are wrong. As long as you’re clear about what you expect of him and how this will go down, he’ll hang in there for the long haul. Just bend some. Otherwise, you might break him. Tyler said he’s never seen Carter this interested in a girl he just met. I would say that’s a good sign for you.”

“I miss you, K,” I breathe into the phone. “We need to hang out soon. Tyler stole you away, and I want you back, even if it’s only for a day. We need to work out an agreement. You’re stuck in the middle, the two of us playing tug-a-war with you.”

“He didn’t steal me.” Her voice is soft, calm.

“Yes, he did,” I spit back. “Tyler is the ultimate cunt blocker. I don’t like how much of your time he snatches from you. We have things we could be doing. Like planning our blog posts for the next month. That time would be better spent with me, of course.”

“Of course,” she says, matter-of-fact. “How about we meet in the city this week? I have an interview scheduled with the Sixers general manager, and I will be in town for a few hours. I can hang out with you after I’m finished. Would that work?”

“Fine,” I huff, “I will take what I can get. But I’m serious about working out a schedule. We have a lot to cover for the blog. Between our schedules and the men drama, our posts have gone out later than normal. Our followers are going to hate us if we don’t get our shit together.”

“I’m sure they are doing fine without us.” I’m shocked by the seriousness in her voice. “They’ve been with us long enough that they will hang in there until we find more time to write and schedule our posts.”

Before Tyler came crashing into her life, Kennedy loved writing articles for the blog, found a certain amount of enjoyment from entertaining our readers. Things have changed so much over time that I have yet to come to terms with it. I know this is for the best for Kennedy. But the selfish side of me wants my bestie all to myself. No one can fault me for that.

“I happen to know some of our followers wait each week for our posts, and I for one, do not want to disappoint them. Whatever you have going on with Tyler is fine by me, but you need to get it together, babe. Get your head out of your ass and back into our writing. We have a shit ton of stuff to go over this week.”

The line is silent for a few seconds, causing me to wonder if she hung up. I check the phone, and the call is still connected. “Hello. Are you there?”

“Yes.” She grunts into the receiver. “Sorry.”

“Don’t get all pissy with me. I am only stating a fact. Ever since you met Tyler, you have completely checked out on our blog and me. You never have time for girl stuff or even your own newspaper. That’s all well and good that you’re getting so much ass you don’t have a chance to hang out with your dearest friend, but you have other priorities. Sports Buzz will not survive if you don’t write articles and get sponsors and shit that actually matters.”

“No, you’re absolutely right. I’m sorry, Syd.” Her apology is sincere.

She sounds so deflated that I feel awful for being such a bitch. But as her friend, I do not want to see her ruin her life over a guy. I already did that once before. It takes a long time to build everything back up from nothing. She has worked her ass off to get where she is and I cannot standby and watch her throw her life away for a guy she hasn’t know very long. No matter how hot and rich he may be.

“I got a little wrapped up in everything in my life that I haven’t taken much time to stop and check out everything around me. I’m sorry, Syd. Do you still love me? You must think I’m such an ass and that I’m now one of those girls.”

She means the kind of girl that falls off the face of the earth just because she gets a boyfriend. Yep, she has become one of them.

“You’re fine. I still love you, but please get your shit together. You have a life outside of Tyler and his monster cock. Anyway, where do you want to meet this week?”

“You love talking about his cock way too much.” She chuckles to herself. “How about Broad Street Beans? It’s close to your house and not far from the Wells Fargo Center.”

Knowing I will see Kennedy has me grinning like a fool. I miss our girl time. She’s my only girl friend. I never got along well with other girls, and most of my friends, apart from Kennedy, were men. I was always more comfortable with the opposite sex. The competitions between women are often so volatile that I steered clear of any drama by having one female friend I could trust and surrounded myself with guys to occupy the rest of my time.

I take a sip from the coffee cup on my desk and smile. “Perfect. I’ll see you then.”

My other line clicks in, alerting me of another caller. I peel the phone from my ear and check out the Caller ID. It’s Carter. I stop breathing for a second. My God, this man is persistent. Maybe he’s worth the hassle after all.

“Sounds good,” Kennedy says, excited.

“Hey, babe. I have Carter calling on the other line. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay, bye!” And then she’s gone, leaving me to deal with Carter alone. My stomach flutters from the nervous energy and the anticipation of what’s to come.

Not that he’s a problem I need to sort out but damn him for throwing me off my game. I haven’t been able to write a decent paragraph since he walked into my life. I cannot have a string of days like this week, or I will be out of a job.

“Hello,” I say, switching the calls, nonchalant.

“Hey, sexy.” What’s sexy is his panty-melting voice. My underwear is already pooling from two words. Two motherfucking words. He is going to be the death of me.

“Well, hello there, big guy. To what do I owe the pleasure?” My voice is a whisper, and I have trouble catching my breath. Can he tell? I hope not. A man like Carter Donovan takes pleasure in getting me wet. When it comes to that department, he has no problem. I can only imagine what sex with him would be like.

“Nothing. I wanted to see what you are you up to.” His husky voice sounds louder this time, more in control.

“Not much. The usual bullshit.” I frown at my computer screen. “I’m trying to write with almost no success, unfortunately. Some days the words fly onto the page, while others I sit here and pound coffees and watch porn.”

He laughs so hard it hurts my ear. “You’re watching porn? I hope it’s the real kinky shit.”

I scoff at his comment. “What like it’s so hard to believe that I watch porn? Women watch porn, you know.” I can hear the irritation in my voice, and I don’t like it. Why am I so moody and defensive lately? “There’s some good material in those videos. They help me write the super smutty scenes. You can learn a lot about what works and doesn’t work from watching sex on film.”

“That’s so hot that you like porn. Mmm…You’re making me so fucking hard right now, baby.”

Contemplating his predicament and now my own, I shout out the first thing that comes to mind. “Oh, yeah. How hard are you right now?”

“Really fucking hard. I wish you were here to help me out with this.”

I could use some new writing material and an orgasm, so I roll with my idea. What do I have to lose? “Carter, I want you to do something for me.”

“Anything.” He’s practically panting in my ear, ready to get it on.

“Grab your cock, give yourself a few strokes, and imagine me fingering my pussy.”

“Shit, babe. Are you really?” I hear him unzip his pants, followed by noises that I can only assume are him jerking himself off. And it turns me on like no other. I wish I could see him in action.

With my legs still propped up on my desk, I push up my skirt and peel back my panties. I cradle the phone between my ear and shoulder and rub my clit first before I slip my fingers inside my wetness. “Uh-huh,” I mutter. “I’m so wet for you, Carter. I have my legs spread open on my desk and my fingers inside me. All for you.”

“Fuck,” he grunts, and I pick up the pace.

It’s as if we’re in the same room again, except this time we have no visual. I have to recall Carter’s massive cock from memory.

“Sydney, you’re fucking killing me. You know that.”

“Yes,” I purr, imaging Carter massaging himself.

And I can’t wait to have him inside me. Every night since we met, I have done the exact same thing—masturbated to the thought of him fucking me. I want him so bad I should give in, submit to his every desire, and fulfill all his fantasies.

While Carter might be used to being the aggressor with women, he has allowed me to boss him around and plays along with my game. The power of my pussy has made him my bitch. But when I finally give into him, I want him to take charge and fuck me like he means it. Fuck me as if it’s the last thing he will ever do in this world.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you, Carter. I need to hear it. I want you to tell me all the dirty things you want to do to me.”

He groans in response. “I want you to suck my cock. I’m thinking about your lips wrapped around me, taking all of me until I come in your mouth. And I want you to swallow. All of it. Like a good little whore.”

“Yeah,” I say, my insides clamping down on my fingers. I’m so close, and with Carter’s help, this might be one of the best orgasms I ever had. “If you were here right now, I’d take your big, fat cock in my hand, lick from your shaft to the head, just to tease you, before taking all of you in my mouth. You like that, Carter?”

“Fucking right, baby. After you’re done, I’d want you to straddle me, ride me like the dirty little girl you are, and come all over my dick.”

“Fuck this is hot,” I moan into the phone. My juices are running down my leg, and the faster my fingers move, the closer I am to finding the sweet spot. “Keep going, Carter. I’m close, and I want you to come with me. Okay?” I can barely speak the words I am so out of breath.

“Me, too, baby. Me, too.” He pauses for a second, but it’s too late.

I don’t need him to keep going. My heart is beating out my chest, ready to explode. An intense heat spreads from my cheeks and chest down to my toes. Everything feels as though it’s on fire from Carter and this sexy-as-fuck phone sex. Not to mention the sound of his deep voice telling me he wants me to come on his dick. This experience is so erotic.

As an orgasm wrecks me, making my body tremble and go numb in the process, all I can think about is Carter’s body, his soulful brown eyes, his dirty mouth that knows all the right things to say, and those adorable smiles he gives me when he’s trying to win me over. He reminds of a boy sometimes, so playful and innocent.

Underneath it all, there’s that burly man I want to own me, make me his, and fuck me senseless. I like when he’s the aggressor and takes control. But there are times when he lets me walk all over him, causing me to wonder if he’s in this just for sex or if he wants the whole package.

“Carter,” I moan, biting down on my lip to stifle my screams. “I’m coming…all over my fingers. Just for you.” I lean my head back against the chair and let my body take over. “Come for me.”

“I am, baby,” he says, through clenched teeth. The sound of his flesh slapping together makes this so much more intense. “So fucking hard.”

And when he comes, it’s probably the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. No, it’s definitely the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. Like I could die right now, happy as shit and that would keep the smile on my face. I love the sounds men make in bed. Sometimes that alone is more of a turn on. But Carter takes it to a whole other level. Thank fuck he’s not one of those silent cummers. I can’t stand those.

“Wow,” he finally says after he catches his breath. “The next time I see you, that pussy is mine. You got it? No more playing games with me. No fucking around.”

I drop my legs to the floor and lean over to grab a few tissues from my desk to clean myself up. “Yes,” I hiss. “Must I remind you that you had agreed to play with me? And you never answered my question.”

“Don’t try that shit with me, Sydney. I know you’re just pretending to hold out. We are going to fuck one way or another. And you will like it. You’ll love it. You won’t be able to get enough of me.”

“You sound way too confident in your ability to get me into bed,” I challenge, loving the fact he’s on to me. I can still use this to my advantage.

“It’s not even a question. I know I can. You’ll be begging me to bend you over and fuck you instead of giving me that bullshit about how I can’t touch you. And I’m coming to collect.”

“If you like my games so much, then what’s your prize if you win?” I really do enjoy toying with him.

“Your pussy, of course.” I can hear the cockiness in his tone.

I frown even though I am excited about him claiming my pussy. It does not belong to him yet. “What about me? I’m feeling a little left out that my pussy gets all the attention.”

“You were a given, considering you’re kind of attached.” He laughs to himself, apparently finding this conversation amusing. I could not agree more.

“Then come get me,” I dare, sitting up straight in my chair, my body aching for a hot shower. “I have to get going. Lots to do today. Talk soon.”

Before he can answer, I click the end call button. It’s all part of my master plan. Keep him wanting more.

Spent after that session, I need a nap just to refuel so I can get back to writing. My deadline is still looming over my head. At least Carter helped me with of one of my problems. He was taking up too much of the headspace I need to write my skanky stories.

Now that I’ve gotten him out of my system, I can shower, get some shut eye for a few hours, and go back to working on my book. My editor will be thankful for the distraction Carter provided me. He also managed to help me out with some new material I plan to use. While the new book idea involves experimenting on Carter, he doesn’t seem to mind and will play along if I keep him satisfied in the process. Game on.