Page 132 of Spoiler Alert
Aprilwas beaming down at him, pride shining in her soft brown eyes, and he took her hand and pulled her onto his lap. Cuddled close, she listened to the rest of the message in his arms, softness against muscle, heat to heat.
If you ever decide to write your own scripts, a bit of advice to keep in mind: As we’re both aware—all too aware—some scriptwriters believe death and misery and stagnation are more clever, more meaningful, and more authentic to reality than love and happiness and change. But life isn’t all misery, and finding a path through hard, hard lives to joy is tough, clever, meaningful work. Yours sincerely, E. Wade.
He opened his mouth, but didn’t have time to say anything before the message continued.
P.S. I like your fics, but they need more sex. Just FYI.
P.P.S. If you want tips on those scenes, both your fiancée and Alex Woodroe possess quite a talent for them.
Aghast, he met April’s wide-eyed gaze. “E. Wade knows I writeGatesfanfic.”
“E. Wade thinks I have a talent for explicit fucking,” April countered. “Please put that on my gravestone.”
Ah. A timely reminder of the game-in-progress Wade’s message had almost derailed.
Ducking his head, he trailed his mouth up the curve of her neck. “Youdohave a talent for explicit fucking. I can say that for a fact.”
She laughed. Then, when he nipped her earlobe and licked the sting away, she shivered.
Urging her down onto the sofa, he tugged off her lounge pants and panties and spread her pale, round thighs. He stroked down those thighs, then slowly back up, watching every inch of flesh pass beneath his hands.
Her voice was choked. “My goodness, Grandma, what big”—ashe knelt close, gaze hot on his fingers toying between her legs, her breath caught in a whimper—“eyes you have.”
He looked up and met her own eyes. This time, as always, he gave the phrase all the emphasis it deserved, meaning every word. “All the better to see you with, my dear.”
Her answering smile was soft, like her gasp when his teeth sank into a dimpled, delicious spot on her inner thigh. Like her sprawled, tempting body. Like her gaze on him in the dawning light of her bedroom each morning.
Like her heart. Like his.
Together, they were forging a joyful path through lives that were sometimes hard. But they were both clever, both tough for all their softness, both willing to work. For each other, and for their own happiness.
That was all the meaning he needed. Enough to last a lifetime.
“My goodness, Grandma.” Fist in his hair, she was urging his mouth where she needed it, confident and playful and gorgeous. Exactly how he wanted her, now and forever. “What big teeth you have.”
His favorite bit had arrived, and none too soon. “All the better to eat you with, my dear.”
Then he settled down and got to work, as determined as ever to give Little Red Riding Hood—April, Ulsie, his fiancée, the woman he would always, always love—her very own happy ending.
Just like the ones in their fics.
Just like the one she’d given him.
