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More on Scarlett Knight’s New Anthology, The Emerald Room

The Emerald RoomThe Emerald Room by Scarlett Knight

Experience the passion that ignites when handsome older men connect with young beautiful women. This steamy collection of four erotic short stories includes the kind of sexy encounters that only a blending of experience and youth can bring. Read how a composed college professor gives over to his lust for one of his faithful students, witness a seasoned theatre director succumbing to the stubborn wiles of a hot young actress in his play, and more.

Available from:

Amazon UK
Amazon US
All Romance eBooks
Barnes & Noble

And all other good eBook retailers.

*****

Excerpt:

The Emerald Room bar was one of the classier joints where Nate got paid to play these days. Every Friday for the past two months, he put on a jacket and bowtie and sat at their shiny baby grand, tickling the keys for his two-hour set. It was a hell of a lot better than some of the trashy spots he was forced to waste his talent in, places whose patrons were so noisy and crude, where his music drowned beneath the sound of shrill laughter and glass breaking.

But not this place.

Aside from the nice paycheck, and aside from the sleek marble-topped bar and tall cherry wood seats, and aside from the polite, well-dressed folks who not only listened to him but tipped as well, there was the goddess.

She always showed up when he was about thirty minutes into his set, usually around the time he was playing soundtrack tunes from movies like The Godfather. In she’d stride, wearing one of her killer dresses. Sometimes it was the little black one, her hair cascading like a golden wave down her bare back. Other times she wore the sparkling red number. Tonight she donned a silver gown with a slit all the way up to the top of her right leg, the lacy band of her stocking peeking out whenever she moved just right on the barstool.

God, did Nate have a thing for stockings.

Her black stilettos only made her heavenly legs even more mouthwatering, the way they caused the calf muscles to flex just right. In between songs he took a sip of his bourbon and loosened his tie. To imagine those legs wrapped around him…it was the fuel for many a fantasy after he went home, too chicken shit to talk to her.

Kay Jaybee Tells Us About Her Sticky Situation

The Story Behind The Story

It’s my pleasure to have one of my favourite erotica authors, and one of my favourite people, Kay Jaybee, back on A Hopeful Romantic. Kay’s here to share the naughty story behind her novella, A Sticky Situation, which is her tasty contribution to Xcite’s Secret Library anthology, Hungarian Rhapsody. Welcome, Kay!

 

I was extremely flattered when Xcite asked me if I would like to write a novella for their exciting new Secret Library collection. I jumped at the chance to be included in this new venture, which brings three erotic romances per volume, into sumptuous velvet touch hardback books.

Included within the Hungarian Rhapsody volume, my story, Sticky Situation, introduces us to marketing whizz, Sally Briers, and her brand new boss, “Bloody Cameron James!”

If there is a paving stone to trip over, or a drink to knock over, then Sally Briers will trip over it or spill it. Yet somehow Sally is the successful face of marketing for a major pharmaceutical company; much to the disbelief of her new boss, Cameron James.

Forced to work together on a week-long conference in an Oxford hotel, Sally is dreading spending so much time with arrogant new boy Cameron; whose presence somehow makes her even clumsier than usual.

Cameron on the other hand, just hopes that he’ll be able to stay professional, and keep his irrational desire to lick up all the accidently split food and drink that is permanently to be found down Sally’s temptingly curvy body, all to himself.

It could be a very long week- unless Cameron can find a way of making Sally slop so much of her after show champagne, that he has no choice but to march her off and relieve her of her sodden clothing… He is sure that, if he could find a way to stop Sally resenting him taking her previous bosses job, then they could enjoy no end of sticky situations together…

 

Hungarian RhapsodyNow, I have a confession- when Xcite asked me to do this erotic romance novella, they felt they had to stress that in the Secret Library the whips and chains had to be left firmly in the drawer! I couldn’t help but laugh- it seems my reputation for extreme kink made it necessary to stress the lack of ‘pain in the pursuit of pleasure angle’ to my novella!

I can’t deny it- they had a point! I had never written an erotic romance before. Anyone who has read any of my stories, whether short or novel length, will know that love stories are not something I am known for! A happy ending in my stories is not always guaranteed! I couldn’t help thinking Xcite were very brave even asking me to do this- and I really didn’t want to let them down.

For the very first time, I approached a new story with a sense of nervousness! What if I couldn’t write romance? And for that matter- what would I write about? The answer came to me in a most unexpected fashion.

I make no secret of the fact that every day I write in my favourite local cafe. Each morning, as I attempt to order my brain into some sort of workable frame of mind, I munch on brown toast and marmalade. It is also no secret that I am incredibly clumsy- if there is a doorframe, I will walk into it- fact!

The week before I had planned to start writing my Secret Library story, I was still unsure about what to write. I was sat in the cafe as usual, about to tuck into my toast, when I accidentally knocked the edge of my plate. My breakfast instantly soared through the air in majestic style, only to land, marmalade side down (of course!), onto my jumper- prompting the cafe’s owner to laugh heartily as he dashed over with a handful of serviettes, saying ‘Bit of a sticky situation here then!’

Eureka! My mind latched onto the phrase ‘sticky situation’, and the novella was underway only minutes later… (well, after I’d had a quick wash and taken off my jumper!)

Buy Hungarian Rhapsody: Amazon UKAmazon US

New Release: For My Master by Suz deMello

For My MasterAgent Kathie Belmont has long lusted after her boss, Ross Guerrero, but has never plucked up the courage to even flirt with him. Could he be the strong but tender Master she craves?

Ross wants Kathie in his life—on her knees. But the constraints of their jobs with an ultra-secret US security agency have come between them.

Then the sadistic drug trafficker El Silencio is tempted into a deal with Ross’s undercover persona—a deal that will go down at a BDSM party. With Kathie disguised as his sex slave, Ross sets out to bring down the criminal gang, and perhaps to tempt Kathie into performing her role for him…forever.

Check out the book at http://www.jasminejade.com/p-10173-for-my-master.aspx

*****

Excerpt from Chapter One

Station chief Ross Guerrero tapped a pencil on his blotter and scrutinized Kathie Belmont, seated on a straight-backed chair on the other side of his wide, government-issue desk. A soft-faced young woman, she had the healthy good looks of a college student or a California beach cutie, common here in San Diego. Her mink-brown hair with tasteful gold highlights was blunt cut at her chin, masking a strong jaw line. Wide, long-lashed eyes regarded Ross with openness and candor.

With multiple piercings in each ear and a silver toe ring peeping from her sandal, she looked like any girl attending San Diego State, UCSD or even Chula Vista High. In reality, Belmont was twenty-nine years old, had graduated with honors in criminal justice from Pepperdine, then gone on to a short but successful career as a police officer in Los Angeles. She’d joined the US Security Agency, performing well during training and in her first assignments. Now he’d find out if she was ready for more demanding tasks.

Her appearance was as useful as her black belt and her Glock. Living proof of the maxim “you can’t judge a book by its cover,” Agent Belmont, who’d been orphaned as a teen, had capably cared for her two younger siblings, fighting to keep her family together. She was as competent an operative as any he’d encountered during his thirteen years with the agency.

“Here’s the situation.” Ross set his china espresso cup into its saucer with a click. “There’s a group of baddies selling drugs just over the border. Mostly steroids, but some crystal, crack, horse … you name it, they’ve got it. Because they’re in Mexico, the usual law enforcement agencies can’t go in.”

Her hazel eyes gleamed. “But we can.”

“Yes, we can. But there’s a twist.”

She shrugged tanned shoulders, revealed by her sleeveless pink blouse. “Isn’t there always?”

“They run their drugs and whores out of a party house.” He eyed her, wondering if she was up for the job. “An orgy house.”

Her brows lifted. “They still exist in the age of AIDS?”

“They do. This one is in a chi-chi area called the Zona Rio, on the south side of the Tijuana River.” He paused, tapping the pencil on the blotter. “I can’t go in without a woman.”

She cleared her throat. “Exactly what would this mission entail, sir?” Her voice was crisp and professional.

Even so, Ross noted the signs of nervous excitement. A slight sheen of perspiration between her breasts, where their tops were displayed by the scooped neck of her shirt. She fiddled with her hair and didn’t meet his eyes. She crossed her suntanned knees, exposed by a blue denim mini-skirt, then recrossed them, giving him a brief glimpse of pink panties. His pulse jumped. Had she intended to flash him?

He cleared his throat. “They won’t know you understand Spanish,” he continued. “You’d listen as well as watch my back. This is a group of evil bastards with absolutely no morals. They’re even selling to steroids to minors, school kids with a dream of getting out of the slums as athletes.”

Her lips firmed. “Let’s get ‘em, sir.”

“Your life could depend upon unswerving obedience to protocol. Truthfully, Belmont, I’m not sure you can do it.”

She bristled. “Why not?”

“The second in command is a, uh, rather unusual woman. A Dominant in a country of submissive females. To impress her, I’d accompany you as your submissive. Your…slave.”

Her elegant jaw dropped. “You’re shittin’ me.”

He wagged a finger at her. “Language, young lady.”

“Pardon me, sir.” She shut her mouth with an audible snap, then said, “Is this plan sanctioned by HQ?”

He evaded, saying, “You know that they give me considerable latitude.”

Her eyes narrowed. “In other words, no, but you think you can get away with it.”

He smiled.

“Why me?” Her intelligent gaze shone from a face vivid with curiosity.

“You’re smart and tough. You’re used to giving orders, the way you did to keep your family together.”

Her chuckle was rueful. “Confidentially, sir, you have no idea how much that took out of me.”

He shrugged. “The USSA is demanding. And this mission will take a lot out of both of us. Do you think this would be easy for me?”

“I don’t know.” Her gaze stroked him again, still brimful of curiosity, though now the curiosity was tinctured with something else. Something more.

Sexual curiosity. She wanted to know what he was really like, at a very basic level.

“Would it be easy for you to be…submissive?” she asked. “Is that who you truly are?”

“No, but if I have to, I can fake it. Can you be dominant?”

She bit her lip, her eyes dropping. Her whisper was incoherent.

“Speak up,” he said. “If you’re going to run this, run me, you have to state your orders and commands clearly.”

She raised her chin, and her eyes sparkled. Were those tears?

She drew a shaky breath. “You know I’d do anything for y…the agency.”

Had she been about to say, “I’d do anything for you?” Desire tightened his balls.

“But I don’t know if I can be something I’m not,” she went on. “I can manage situations, yes, and run any mission you choose. But acting like a sexual dominant…” She shook her head. “That’s not me. I’m afraid I’d blow our cover and get us both killed.”

He hesitated. The only other option involved possible abuse of his authority, but the mission was paramount. On the other hand—

“W-what about reversing our roles?” She broke into his thoughts.

Had she read his mind?

But he had to be sure. “You mean, I’d dominate you?”

She swallowed audibly. “Yes.”

A long pause ensued while he wondered if he’d fallen into his favorite fantasy. Finally, he managed to speak.

“That could work.” He walked around the barrier of his desk and knelt next to her chair. His face was now level with hers, his gaze fixed on her eyes, her wide, nervous, expectant eyes. He read fear there, as well as blatant feminine curiosity.

He’d have her exactly the way he wanted, but he’d have to take care. A single wrong move, and she’d bolt.

Ross leaned closer, inhaling her cologne, a fresh, bright scent he didn’t recognize but suited her perfectly. He let his lips brush her neck, and watched the tiny hairs shift in subtle response. “I could do that, but can you? Can you give me unswerving obedience?” he murmured into her ear before nipping the lobe.

She gasped, and he chuckled. “Just let go, Belmont. Just…let go.”

She turned her head to shoot him a steady look from those compelling hazel eyes. This time, their gazes met and clashed. Her eyes were bold, unflinching, utterly unafraid. That surprised him, but Belmont often surprised him. It was hard to remember that her naïve façade hid a smart, savvy agent.

He’d respected her competence and admired her beauty. Now he’d enjoy bending her to his will.

Like what you read?

Here’s where you can buy the book and read the rest.

*****
Best-selling, award-winning author Sue Swift, a.k.a Suz deMello, has written over fifteen novels, plus several short stories and non-fiction articles. She writes in numerous genres including romance, mystery, paranormal, historical, contemporary comedy and erotica. She’s a freelance editor who’s worked for Total-E-Bound, Ai Press, Liquid Silver Books and Etopia Press. She also takes on private clients.
Her books have been favorably reviewed in PW, Kirkus and Booklist, attained the finals of the RITA and reached the top ten on a bestseller list.
A former trial attorney, she resides in northern California. Her passion is world travel, and she’s left the US over a dozen times, including stints working overseas for many months. Right now, she’s working on her next manuscript and planning her next trip.
Her blog is at http://www.fearlessfastpacedfiction.com. Find her reading picks @ReadThis4fun on Twitter, and befriend her on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/SueSwift ). Her sites are at http://www.sue-swift.com and http://www.suzdemello.com.

Grace Marshall: The Secret’s Out

I’ve had SUCH a hard time keeping my secret for the past few weeks. In fact, it’s slipped out a couple of times, at least a little bit. But now, I’m very excited that mum’s no longer the word, and I can shout it out with the very first ever blog post on Romance Served Hot.

Hi, I’m Grace Marshall! I’m K D Grace’s more subtle alter-ego. Well, okay, I’m not really that subtle. The only thing I like better than reading a really good hot romance is writing one, and that’s what my new website is all about.

I’m very happy to announce that I’ve signed a contract with Xcite Romance for a sexy, fast-paced, quirky new romance trilogy called Executive Decisions. I’m even happier to announce that Book One of the new trilogy, An Executive Decision, will be served hot and ready for your reading pleasure very soon.

In the meantime, I’m going to tease you with a little blurb and an excerpt. Enjoy!

An Executive Decision Blurb:

Over drinks one night after too many hours at the office, Ellison Thorne’s business partner, Beverly Neumann and his brother Garrett jokingly scheme the Executive Sex Clause, an innovative cure for Ellis’s lack of a love life. They speculate a source of no-strings, stress-free sex in certain employee contracts would raise productivity, minimize stress, and boost creativity for a busy CEO like Ellis. But they were joking, weren’t they?

Enter Dee Henning. Young, hungry, gifted, what Dee lacks in experience, she makes up for in ambition and hard work. Dee is the queen of no-time-for-sex.

When stressful negotiations over a huge project break down, driving Dee and Ellis into each other’s arms, the aftermath is a deal even sweeter than they imagined. Suddenly the Executive Sex Clause no longer seems like a joke. Could it be the ultimate secret weapon for success? And why not, if no one else knows? But secrets seldom remain secret, and Dee and Ellis find out the hard way that there’s no such thing as no strings where the heart is concerned.
Excerpt:

‘I missed her again didn’t I? She’s going to think I’m avoiding her.’ Ellis dropped into the chair in front of Beverly’s desk and flipped absently through the files Dee Henning had just left. ‘It’s not her I’m avoiding, actually, it’s your silly retirement plans.’

‘You won’t be laughing when you come in here some morning and find my desk empty. You’ll be SOL big time, boy.’

He offered her an amused chuckle. ‘Who are you kidding, Beverly? You love this place and you know it. You’re not going to retire. How many false alarms have there been now, three?  Four? I’ve lost count. Face it; you’ll work here until you drop dead.’

‘Believe what you want, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.’ She pulled a manila envelope from the top drawer of her desk and handed it to him.

‘What’s this?’

‘My replacement. Since you won’t help, I’ve taken matters into my own hands. She’s been right under our noses all along.’ She rubbed her hands together with a shiver of anticipation. ‘Come on, humor me.’

Still holding her in a disapproving gaze, he took the envelope as though he half expected it to be booby trapped. He opened the clasp then slid the contents from inside and gave it a glance. ‘Wait a minute. This is a file on Dee Henning. You can’t be serious. You want a head hunter to take over running half of Pneuma Inc?’

‘Don’t be such a snob, Ellis. It’s not like she’ll be taking over tomorrow. I’ll be here to train her up to suit your persnickety standards.’

‘How did you get this information anyway?’ The file was too thick for a simple resume, and some of the pages looked like hand-written notes photocopied. Others were odd sizes, and the whole packaged smacked of Beverly’s scheming.

‘Portland’s a small city.’ Suddenly she seemed particularly interested in the leaves of a thriving Christmas cactus sitting on the edge of her desk.

‘Beverly?’

‘I’m friends with Irv McDowell, okay? At least I think we’re still friends.’ The look of driven-snow innocence gave way to something just slightly this side of devious.

‘You’ve been head-hunting from the head head-hunter? Dee Henning’s Jasper and McDowell’s star recruiter. Surely Irv didn’t give you this willingly.’

Beverly ignored the question and nodded at the photo he now held in his hand.

‘She’s exactly what you need on all counts. She may be only a few years out of grad school, but what impresses me is her accomplishments during that time. She reminds me of you back in the early days – young, hungry, dedicated… And pretty. Don’t give me that look, Ellis, you’d blush if you heard some of the juicy conversations about you I overhear in the ladies’ room.’

He pretended to ignore the photo. ‘Your delusions aside, it doesn’t matter — that she’s good looking, I mean.’

‘And that’s why you’re drooling over the photo? I may be old, Ellis, but there’s nothing wrong with my eyesight.’

He put the picture of Dee aside and flipped through the file. ‘What all do you have in here anyway?’ He read out loud from the photocopied pages. ‘Classically trained, voice and piano? Oh, that’ll come in really handy here at Pneuma Inc. In fact, I was just thinking of requiring it for all new employees.’

‘Stop being an asshole. It’s just background information, just stuff that’s good to know.’

The hand-written notes stated that both of Dee’s parents were musicians. Her father had sung in the chorus for the Paris Opera. Her mother was a soprano, who went to Paris on some summer program, and nine months later Dee came along. Ellis suddenly felt like a voyeur. ‘This is none of our business.’ He tried to shove the file back at Beverly, but she refused it.

‘Oh for chrissake, Ellis, there’s nothing in there I haven’t already wheedled out of the girl over coffee or drinks. Don’t be such a wuss.’

‘I’m sure she didn’t give you the copy of her finances over coffee and drinks.’

‘Oh that. Just tells us that we can’t appeal to her with money alone.’

‘Clearly she doesn’t need it,’ he said. He was surprised to find someone so young had such a good portfolio. She obviously knew how to make money work for her. She wasn’t exactly rich, but give her a few more years, and she would be.

‘My point exactly. Musicians tend to be poor, and I think our Dee has taken it upon herself not to follow in her parents’ footsteps.’

‘If the need ever actually arises for me to interview her, what makes you think she’s even interested in working for me? She’s got a growing career with Jasper and McDowell, and as you said, she’s making very good money.’

Beverly frowned. ‘Jasper and McDowell is a means to an end. Surely you don’t expect someone with her talent to settle in there permanently, do you? It’s the experience of working here with you that will appeal to her. She’s a perfectionist, never does anything half-assed. She’s always striving to be the best. She’s driven, just like you are. Remember that when you interview her.’

He shuffled pages. ‘What did you have to do to get this stuff, tie Irv to a chair and beat him with a tire iron?’

‘It’s amazing what a man will tell you over a couple of drinks.’

‘You got him drunk.’

‘It wasn’t that hard. He never could hold his booze. I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out sooner. She’s perfect for my job.’

Ellis looked down at the resume. ‘She’s not perfect for your job, Beverly. She’s too young, too inexperienced, and this is not even her area of expertise.’

‘The woman’s a head hunter, Ellis. She has to be competent in lots of areas. Besides, we’ve always been risk-takers, and those risks have always paid off. I’ll train her myself, and you’ll see, within a few months she’ll be able to run this place on her own.’

‘An opportunity she’ll never get because you’ll never retire.’

‘Forget about my retirement, Ellis. It’s time. You know it is. We need someone in training for when the inevitable happens.’

He gave up pretending to ignore the photo, which was definitely the nicest thing he’d looked at all day. Short, dark hair framed blue eyes, a straight Roman nose, and a full-lipped smile that suggested competence, with a touch of mischief. So this was what Dee Henning looked like. He’d often wondered.

‘Hire her, Ellis. It’s not just that I’m retiring, but I’m old. Hell I could drop dead anytime, then what?’

‘Oh for chrissakes, Beverly, we both know you’re too damned ornery to die. You’ll outlive me. But I tell you what, if and when you do drop dead, I’ll hire her. Hell, when you drop dead, I’ll give her your job on a silver platter and train her myself, I promise. Now can we get back to running the business here?’

Two weeks later, Beverly had sent him an email from the airport. The last email he got from her before she flew off to Brazil.

Ellis,

Just an addendum to the conversation we had earlier about Dee Henning. I want to make it clear how I feel. I’ve already told you she’s perfect for the position. And if you were ever going to implement the ESC, she’d be the one to do it with – that is if you’ve got the balls.

Dee’s exactly what you need on all counts.  I know you think she lacks experience, but trust me, with the right training, given half a chance, she’ll be brilliant.  Hire her, Ellis. Implement the ESC. Trust me, it’s the perfect strategy, a secret weapon that could make Pneuma Inc even more successful than it already is.  And if anyone could do it, you could.  Do this for me and I can retire and enjoy my dotage.

-Beverly 

Charlotte Stein Tells Us About Her Novella, Restraint

It’s my pleasure to welcome back to A Hopeful Romantic, one of my very favourite authors, Charlotte Stein, who will be telling us about Restraint, her yummy novella from the Xcite’s Secret Library collection, Hungarian Rhapsody Anthology. Welcome back, Charlotte!

Hungarian RhapsodyRestraint came about because of two things: one, Xcite asked me if I’d like to be a part of this fantastic project, and two, I really fancy Armie Hammer and wanted to write a story about him being a repressed maniac. And so I did!

Basically, my hero is all uptight about sex. My heroine is not uptight about sex. Shenanigans then ensue. I have to say, I absolutely loved writing this story – it came quite easily, because as you may or may not know, I love tales about girls teasing guys to the point of insanity.

So there you have it! My contribution to The Secret Library, in a nut shell. Here’s some links for it, if you fancy having a gander yourself:

http://www.amazon.com/The-Secret-Library-Hungarian-Rhapsody/dp/1908262125?&linkCode=waf&tag=wp-amazon-associate-20

http://thesecretlibrary.co.uk/?page_id=8772

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-hungarianrhapsody-788380-166.html

And I would, because not only am I in this anthology, but so are Justine Elyot and Kay Jaybee. It’s practically a must buy!

And if you’re still unconvinced, go here:

http://thesecretlibrary.co.uk/

How amazing is The Secret Library? Look at those velvety covers! They’re divine.

Excerpt:

‘Artie, just fucking let go of me,’ I say, but he won’t, he won’t. And then somehow it’s just me and him, squirming and thrashing around in the bubbly water, limbs getting tangled, everything getting more and more frantic until…until…

We both go very still, all at once. I don’t mean to. Most of me wants to keep trying to get away, but once I feel the thing that’s very definitely happened I can’t even manage a weak wriggle. And as for him, well…he’s gone beyond rigid and into some state of temporary paralysis.

I turn my head just a little to see if I can make out an expression on his face, but there isn’t one. He’s just blank—so much so that I’d assume he was dead if I couldn’t see the flush creeping up over his cheeks.

And if I didn’t know what the hard thing was, that’s currently pressing right up against me.

He has an erection. Dear God, he has an erection. I can feel it against my thigh, so heavy and so obvious I don’t even need a paradigm shift to figure it out. It’s just there, like a pointed finger:

Artie is turned on. The squirming or the words or fuck knows what has turned him on, and now his big stiff cock is apparently super-glued to your thigh.

‘Okay, well—’ I start, though I’m not sure how. I’m almost grateful he interrupts me, because God only knows what words I would have used to finish that sentence. I thought you were a Eunuch, maybe? I can’t believe you’re actually able to achieve stiffness, perhaps?

I just don’t know, and apparently neither does he.

‘Please don’t say anything,’ he says, but strangely he doesn’t blurt the words out in a mean way. He hardly sounds angry at all, anymore—just mortified. And though that’s perfectly understandable, I can’t help thinking even stranger things, as we lie like that in a sea of bubbles.

I’m practically on my back, over the little plastic seats beneath the water. And he’s almost over me, his legs between mine and his big chest pressed against my breasts. I’ve got one arm around him, though I don’t know when that happened, and the second I shift just a little I realise he’s got an arm around me, too.

We’re almost in some sort of weird embrace. Somehow, we’ve struggled and shifted until we’ve locked our bodies together in a very familiar shape, and the longer this silence goes on for the more obvious that fact becomes.

His hand is pressed to the small of my back. The way that men do when…you know. They want to get a bit of traction and maybe fuck into you harder. And I can feel something in him, too—a kind of tension, vibrating through his body. As though we were in the middle of a good screw and I suddenly told him to stop.

Don’t come yet, I think, mindlessly, and this giant awful thrill spills through me.

What if he is about to come? What if he jerks and spurts all over the insides of his shorts—or even better, all over me? I can’t for the life in me imagine what someone like Artie would look like, if they had an orgasm, but I can feel my mind trying to gather the image together anyway.

That tight, tense face of his, suddenly slack with pleasure. God, that mouth. Would he bite his plump lower lip, maybe squeeze his eyes tight shut? Someone like him would never moan, but the thing is—what if he did?

I’d die. I’d die.