Page 100 of Foreplay on Words

“I know you will.” I wasn’t joking; if I fucked up, I knew she’d lay me out.

“But seriously. We need to start working tomorrow, although this has been nice.” Her shy smile made my heartbeat pick up.

“It has,” I wholeheartedly agreed, “but it’s back to the grind.”

She smirked as she looked up at me, clearly holding in a dirty retort.

“Not that kind of grind. You’re being awfully suggestive for someone who needs a breather,” I teased. It was second nature now. If it were anyone else, I’d be overanalyzing every word I said, but conversation and teasing flowed naturally with her. I’d always thought the idea of people being obsessed with each other was a little unhealthy, but it was hard to avoid when you were in that kind of relationship with someone. “Not that I’d expect anything less.”

“You know I’m a giant perv. That’s why you love me.”

The way she said it, I knew she didn’t register what she’d said, but I did. She glanced up at me with wide eyes when it finally connected. “Oh. I didn’t mean like that. You know I don’t have a filter.”

I pulled her upright next to me, my throat dry as I whispered two words with my heart in my throat. “I do.”

“You do...?” Her cheeks turned pink as she stared at me, looking as vulnerable as I felt.

“I know you don’t have a filter,” I whispered, and her shoulders slumped slightly. Clearing my throat, I pushed through the nerves and confessed. “But I do. I love you.”

My heart was hammering in my chest as I waited for her to register my words and formulate a response. I’d mistakenly said those words in the past, but the genuine feeling of completion with her cemented that it was what I was feeling. It was likely too soon, and I was probably setting myself up for heartbreak, but I wasn’t sorry I said them.

“I uh...” Her eyes scanned my face, and my stomach dropped. I knew I’d taken a chance, but I didn’t want to hold back how I felt any longer. Saying the words to her was simultaneously freeing and terrifying.

“I do, too,” she whispered, and my pulse skipped. I wished she’d use another three words, but maybe she wasn’t ready. I opened my mouth to speak again, and she pressed her palm against my lips.

“You think I’d be better with words,” she laughed as a shy smile pulled at her lips. “I love you, Evan. I know that sounds crazy, but I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve written about it a thousand times, but I’ve never craved time with another person like I have with you. I’d even love you if you keep your pants on, but I kind of like it when you don’t. Especially when you let me play with your butt.”

Laughing, I cupped the sides of her face and rubbed my thumbs along her cheekbones. She was stunning, even with her hair half wet, a messy bun on her head, and zero makeup.

“Will you come back home with me? So we can start writing in the quiet. It’s not that your place isn’t nice, but being in the city makes me anxious. Especially if we’re at risk of running into people we know. But if you don’t…”

“Breathe.” Chase smiled indulgently, pressing her cheek into my hand as I finally stopped rambling. “I’d go anywhere with you. You’re kind of stuck with me now. You don’t need to worry about telling me what you need. If you need to be home, let’s go home.”

My lips found hers as I pulled her toward me, quickly closing the distance. I tugged on her bottom lip and suckled it with my tongue, appreciating that she understood me enough to be patient when I started to spiral. She climbed into my lap, and we continued kissing, simply enjoying being close to each other.

She’d agreed to come back with me without any hesitation. I’d been worried that she didn’t feel this pull between us this whole time, but she was right there with me.

“Hey,” I smiled at Chase as she stirred on her pillow. I’d been up with the sun around 5:00 am. First, I’d made coffee, run a quick mile on the quiet streets before the morning rush, and then I returned to her apartment, pulling out my laptop.

“Mmmm. How long have you been awake?” Her sleepy smile was adorable.

“A few hours.” It was almost 9:00 am, I’d thought about waking her earlier, but I knew our sleep schedule would be thrown off as we started to write—she might as well have some rest now.

“What are you working on?” she asked curiously.

I had about ten pages in front of me filled with a detailed outline of the story we’d plotted out. I’d also started a glossary of characters with mini-bios and where they appeared in the plot. Even though it was nowhere close to being related to the content I normally wrote... it seemed to flow easily.

Frances was a Dominatrix who worked training other Doms and subs. Her regular sub, Dominic, had been in a non-exclusive dynamic with her for about a decade. People within their circle started going missing and turning up dead. When Dominic suddenly disappears, she doesn’t know who to trust and fears he might be involved. She never anticipated being targeted by a serial killer, and it may not be who she thinks…

“What did you do?” Chase asked warily as I failed to contain my grin. She would likely think I was even nerdier than she already did when she saw all the background work I did in the plotting stages. I knew from how she talked about her writing; she just jumped right into it and let the story develop as she wrote. Part of me was jealous that she possessed that kind of creativity, but not knowing if I would write myself into a corner would be too much for my nerves to handle. If Adrian thought it was bad when I wrote mediocre sex scenes, he’d be dealing with daily panic attacks if I wrote without an outline.

“Sit up.” She pushed herself up, settled against the headboard, and held out her hands. Placing the laptop onto her legs, she began to read.

“Oh, my gahhh-shh,” she yawned. “You take type A to a whole new level.”

I shrugged as I smiled at her. I liked having a plan. “What do you think?”

“I think this is fucking amazing. Can I hire you to write with me full-time? I need an Evan to make sense of the mess in my head.”

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