Page 1 of Personal Research

One

Cock.Manroot. Penis. Phallus. Hard-on. Shaft. Dick.

Elena Thomas smiled and settled back in her office chair as she scanned the list of synonyms. Dick sounded good. Hard-edged. She needed something different than cock, for Pete’s sake. How many times could one erotic romance writer use the word cock before she went stark raving mad?

Especially when said erotic romance writer hadn’t actuallyhadany cock in quite a while and relied on her vast imagination to fill in the gaps.

She cast a quick glance outside her door, relieved to see everyone else busily working in their own cubicle hives. The central office consisted of ten computer stations separated by partitions, but a few lucky stiffs got their own offices on the edges of the hive. Her space wasn't exactly private—her glass walls ended a foot below the ceiling—but she at least had an actual door she could close.

Good thing.

Writing sexy required creating an atmosphere, and that was much harder to do when your coworkers insisted on barging in every few minutes with papers for you to file or documents to type. She intended to type, but not legal briefs.

The briefs she had in mind were quite a bit racier.

Catching the tip of her tongue between her teeth, she reread the last couple lines of her work-in-progress,Swells of Love. Victoria, the heroine, and Franz, the hero, were both violinists, and Franz was a traveling musician in town for just one night to play with the local symphony. Passion, however, would not wait, and the two of them were about to make wild frantic love in an alcove behind the stage while the other musicians tuned their instruments.

Elena swallowed hard, her fingers poised over the keys. Already her panties were damp. She’d gotten too involved with these particular characters. Sometimes the line between fiction and real life blurred. Now that Victoria and Franz were about to let their feelings explode, she felt as if she was on the verge of an explosion too. Something about the heat of their need for each other. The rawness of their emotions.

The untamedlust.

Her furtive gaze flew back to the empty doorway. She'd left the door cracked just enough that she had a clear view of anyone who might be headed her way. All clear.

Time to have sex. Well, not her.

Unfortunately.

She typed fast, letting the words pour out of her through her fingertips. This was the part of the story she enjoyed most. Building up to the actual sex gave her a nice buzz of anticipation, but the real fun came when the characters did.

The rest was just foreplay and afterglow.

Halfway through the scene, right about when Franz had backed Victoria up into a dingy coat closet with little more than his thrusting hips, Elena started to squirm. Only this time, it wasn’t just because the drip between her legs had become a miniature tidal wave.

Hewas here. Not only that, he was staring at her with eyes as black as the sinkhole her thoughts had tumbled into at the mere sight of him.

Her eyelid twitched and she gripped her temple, willing the damn thing to stop. A printer repair man shouldn’t inspire twitching or anything else. She was in the middle of a scene and she had to finish it now, or else she’d have to wait until she got home tonight.

Work was piling up in her inbox, and even a lax employee like herself had conscience enough to feel guilty that she wasn’t working.

Again.

But if she didn’t turn in another story to her editor at the small press she wrote for before the end of the month, she wouldn’t receive royalties for another two quarters.

That couldn’t happen.

Her washing machine had broken just this morning, and with the panties she churned through writing erotic romance, she needed a working washer. She also needed a new vibrator, because the last two had burned out within a matter of months.

How a woman suffered for her art.

The printer repair man glanced her way again—whose idea had it been to station the department printer directly across the department from her doorway anyway?—and her hand slipped across the keyboard as she forced herself to meet his gaze. She couldn't exactly call herself confident and outgoing, but she also wasn't a complete wall-hugger.

Even so, he had killer eyes and she didn’t feel equipped to handle any death blows in her current weakened state.

A prickle of heat zinged up the back of her neck and she shivered before breaking the contact.His eyes weren’t all that was amazing. Rock cut cheekbones, a firm jaw, and distractingly full lips made up the rest of the package.

And his hands… God, they looked so big and capable, with wide thumbs that made her throat tighten.

Thumbs like that would know how to caress a woman’s nipples. Or maybe she’d suck one of them while she straddled his lap and teased his cock with her breasts?—

---