Page 30 of My Scorned Best Friend

I do as he says, my ass out for his viewing pleasure. One hand smacks my ass and then slides down, gripping and squeezing.

Then my body ignites with the sound of his belt being unbuckled and the thud as it falls to the floor, along with his pants.

“I’m torn on having you strip me down the rest of the way, or me bending you over and hammering into you.” I close my eyes as shivers rush across my skin.

Fuck. Hearing Clara read that sample made me want to have her read me more—preferably while we’re naked in bed.

“So?” she asked.

“I get it. It’s hot, but romance novels aren’t as realistic as pornography. Men aren’t heroes who know what a woman wants right away. They aren’t mind readers.”

Clara laughed and held up a bunch of books. “Exactly. Long live the book boyfriend. But you don’t think any women in porn have ever faked it?” She arched an eyebrow.

I sat in the chair next to her, hoping it would somehow cool me down.

“But I think you’re wrong, Xavier, just so you know.”

“Wrong about what?” I organized the authors with last names beginning with R on the table in front of us.

“There are a lot of guys in real life who are like book boyfriends. Sure, it’s not as exaggerated like in books, but there are men who are there for the love of their life when they need them the most. The ones who hold them when they’ve had a bad day and cheer from the sidelines when they accomplish a goal. Just look at you.”

My face scrunched up as though I’d smelled something off-putting. “What about me?”

“You’re a football star from a small town. You’re kind to elders, treat women with respect, give to charities. I know you don’t want to hear it, but you’ll make a great husband someday. And a father too. One who’s more than worthy to be written into a romance book. I can’t speak on the sex though. You might be lousy in bed.” Her head rocked back in laughter, and something overcame me when I saw her elongated neck. All I envisioned was my tongue sliding up past her chin and devouring her mouth.

“Guess you’ll never know.” My voice cracked a bit.

She sobered and her head came back down. “Guess not.”

Our eyes locked for a long moment, and the heat already filling the small area intensified and grew heavier.

“Would you want to know?” I asked, leaning toward her, as though I couldn’t help myself and was drawn to her by some force stronger than myself.

“I don’t know. I mean…” Her voice was as soft as silk.

“Clara…”

Somehow, she knew that in that moment that her name on my lips was me asking for permission to kiss her. Her tongue came out and she licked her lips, granting me a small nod.

I moved forward and she moved toward me. Everything in me told me it was wrong, but it was as if I had no control over my motions. The next thing I knew, my hand was on her neck, my thumb running down the center, pulling her to me. Our lips were millimeters apart when a loud sound echoed through the room.

We both jumped back to find Art, the janitor, walking in with two large fans. “Thought you two might need these at least. It’s as hot as a sauna in here.”

Clara got to her feet. “Thank you so much, Art.”

“No problem. Romance section, huh?” His bushy gray eyebrows raised, and he walked away. “I’ll lock up on my way out.”

“Thanks, Art.” Clara turned toward me for a beat as if she wanted to say something, then turned back to the table to organize the books.

We finished the new romance section and the almost kiss was never talked about again.

“Oh, you’re early,” Clara says, drawing my mind from the memories.

“Yeah, sorry.”

She smiles like the Clara I’ve always known, but it’s still not quite as easygoing as it used to be. That’ll take time, I’m sure.

I match her smile. “I can wait if you’re not ready.”

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