Three Months Later…
My fingers dance along the plastic of the keyboard. With every click, my heart beats a little faster. It does this every time I write dark scenes. It doesn’t matter if they’re dark, kinky sex or a gruesome torture scene. I can feel my heart race with anticipation. My lips press together into a thin line as my fingers continue to race to type the words that are rolling from my mind. I love it when I’m no longer here in the present but inside the story that I’m writing. I love when I feel as though I’m no longer writing the words, but living them.
“You know how fucking sexy you look right now?” Heath growls from my office doorway.
Taking a break, I push my keyboard back, along the glass top of my desk. “You think this looks sexy? I have on day old clothes, and I think I have a family of rats living in my hair.” I tighten the messy bun that’s sitting on the top of my head. “If you come closer, you might get bit.”
“I’ll take my chances.” Heath stalks towards me with hunger in his eyes. This is how it’s been for the past month, and I love it. Our sex is no longer calculated or planned out. It’s spontaneous, and it makes me feel like we’re in our twenties again. There’s something about doing the physical act with the emotion of it is so tangible. We had that fire in the bedroom for so long, but somewhere along the way, like most married couples, we lost it. I know how lucky I am that we found that spark again.
The desire to want to be with each other, to enjoy each other.
Maybe to even like each other as people again.
He doesn’t say another word before he bends down, nuzzling my neck. He knows all my spots. He’s studied them, and he’s now a pro. The sharpness of his teeth bite into my skin, and it makes my core squeeze. My head falls to the side as he continues to nip at my neck. Sliding his hands under my thighs, he lifts me up without hesitation before placing me on the rounded reading chair in the corner of my office.
He doesn’t waste any time before he’s tugging my shorts from my legs. “Heath,” I moan as I arch my back off the chair, giving him ample opportunity to pull the cotton shirt over my head.
Before I know it, he has my legs thrown over his shoulder, and his tongue licks my center. He buries his face deeper before taking my clit into his mouth applying just enough pressure to shoot heavenly pleasure through my body. “So fucking good,” he says as he pulls back. He bites the inside of my thigh before he continues to feast.
“Every. Single. Time.”
I scrape my fingers through the thickness of his hair as he continues to devour me. All thoughts of my deadline are gone. The only thing that consumes me is my husband between my legs, giving me pleasure that the gods themselves would die for. With another swipe of his skilled tongue, I fall over the edge as my orgasm rushes through me. The rolling of pleasure causes my toes to curl and my eyes to roll back. A moan rips through my throat, thankful my kids are out with friends.
“Baby,” I sigh.
I feel Heath’s hands grip my hips as he pulls me down the chair, towards him. Peeling my eyes open I see his mouth wet… With me. He licks his lips and then gives me a beaming smile.
“You’re like a fine wine, babe. You only get better with age.”
“Oh my God,” I groan as I smack him on the shoulder. “You are ridiculous.”
“But you love me just the same.”
My heart flutters at his words. “Yes, Heath, I do love you. That won’t ever change.”
He leans in, offering me his mouth, which I happily take. The taste of myself on his lip causes my insides to clench. My legs wrap around his waist, tighten around him, bringing him closer.
“Babe, you have a book to finish.”
He’s right, I do.
I took Heath’s advice and called Harold. I didn’t want to beg for a second chance, I felt that my books were worth more than that, but I had been completely wrong with how Harold responded. He was excited that I decided to give it another go. As soon as I signed with Slater Publishing, Harold ran with the first book in my series. Once he got a feel for how the public was taking to it, he had me start on book two. That’s what I’m working on now.
“The only thing I have to finish is you.”
“By all means…”
My name is Whitney James.
I’m a wife, a mother, a teacher and a writer. I may be an intelligent individual, but I’ve rarely considered myself smart. It has taken me forty-one years to figure out what’s important. It’s taken me this long to earn my voice and speak up for the things I want and need. I’ve learned that even though you may think your eyes are open, they might be closed. Love isn’t anything we should take for granted, and if we do, and we lose it then it serves us right. If we think our love isn’t worth the battle, then your happiness won’t be worth the war.
Life is hard.
Marriage is harder.
It takes a lot of determination, strength, understanding, and communication to make it work. It might have taken me two decades to figure it out, but at least I did. And it’s better late than never.