The Siren

Nora put her elbows on her desk and rubbed her temples.

“It’s a mess. It’s the most important scene in the book.”

“So it’s a sex scene.”

“Right. But it’s really difficult for me to write. My guy in the book is pure kink. My girl is vanilla but trying to be what he wants her to be. But this is the scene where he gives in and tries to be what she wants. It’s hard to write vanilla sex when you’ve never actually had vanilla sex.”

“Can I help?”

“You want to help me write a sex scene?”

Wesley shrugged. “I’ve helped you before.”

“Yeah, and you swore you’d never help me with a scene again after the last time. Which I thought was an overreaction on your part.”

“You left me hog-tied on the floor while you made yourself a sandwich.”

“I offered to share.”

“Suit yourself. I’m getting out of these clothes before I suffocate. Holler when you want lunch.” He got up and headed for the door.

Nora looked down at the morass of notes about the big scene.

“Wes?”

“Yes, ma’am?” He spun around in her doorway.

“You can help me. I need all the help I can get.”

“No comment. Tell me what to do.”

“Go change first. Meet me in my room when you’re done.”

Wesley bowed again and yanked his tie off on the way out of her office.

Nora printed off her most recent draft of the big scene. She’d have to be careful and not let Wesley see the pages or he might be upset by one or two things he read.

She entered her room and found Wesley already lounging against a mound of pillows piled against the headboard of her massive bed with one leg bent at the knee, his arm resting on it. He now was barefoot and wore only jeans and a white T-shirt. With the sunlight in his sandy-blond hair, Wesley looked even more enticing than usual, and for a moment Nora couldn’t quite think of what she was doing. He looked at her and didn’t smile but only raised his chin slightly as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. Had she seen that expression on the face of any other man she would have assumed it was a come-on.

“So what’s going on here?” Wesley asked as Nora hopped up on the bed next to him.

“It’s hard to explain completely unless you’ve read the whole book, which you haven’t.”

“You won’t let me.”

“You can read it when it’s done. Maybe.”

“You’ve let me read rough drafts before.”

“Are we going to argue or have pretend sex?”

Wesley exhaled. “Pretend sex, I guess. What am I doing?”

“Sleeping in bed. She’s sleeping on the floor.”

“He makes her sleep on the floor?”

“He gives her a blanket.”

“Very romantic.”

Nora glanced down at her pages, still warm from the printer. “Okay, I’m her. I wake up and have to have you because while I know we don’t belong together, that doesn’t change the fact that I love you and want to try to make it work.”

Wesley nodded.

“You pretend to be asleep,” Nora instructed. “Then I’ll wake you up. Then you’ll let me make love to you.”

Nora expected a laugh or a protest but Wesley only tilted his head just slightly and sank deeper into her pillows.

“Okay, Nora,” he said, his voice low and serious. “Make love to me then.”

Tremors rippled through Nora’s fingers as if her hands had fallen asleep and were just now beginning to awaken. To cover her sudden nervousness, she purposefully scanned her scene, looking for a good place to start.

Nora took a deep breath and reached out. Wesley was feigning sleep. His head was turned to the side and his eyes were closed. His blond eyelashes lay on his tan cheeks. She touched his face as gently as she could and his eyes fluttered open.

“What do I do?” he asked.

“He grabs her wrist. Hard but not viciously.”

Wesley raised his hand and clasped Nora’s wrist. She wondered if he could feel her pulse racing.

“Then what?” Wesley stroked her wrist with his thumb.

“He says to her, ‘You know that’s against the rules.’”

“And she says?”

Nora paused. The light in the room changed as a cloud swallowed the sun and everything was thrown into pale shadows. The darkening room seemed suddenly and dangerously intimate, but she didn’t dare stop. She knew how fragile, how easily shattered such a moment was. Her body tensed. The room held its breath.

“She says, ‘This isn’t about the game. It’s just me now. I want, just once, to be with just you.’”

“And he says?”

“He doesn’t say anything. They look at each other in the dark until she says…‘please.’”

Nora’s and Wesley’s eyes met.

“Please,” Wesley repeated. “Then what happens?”

“The big moment—he’s been in control the whole time, totally in charge. This is when he lets go and gives himself into her hands. He surrenders.”

Wesley nodded his head solemnly. “And she?”

“She kisses him.” Nora laid her hand on Wesley’s chest. “And he lets her.”

Nora leaned in even farther, expecting Wesley to stop her at any moment. When he didn’t she nearly stopped herself, but after the briefest hesitation she pressed her lips to his. Opening her mouth, she brushed his bottom lip with the tip of her tongue and his mouth opened to hers.