The Write Stuff (Write Stuff 1) - Page 21

He grabbed my hand, laughing. "I knew you were full of shit," I said. At least he had a sense of humor to go along with his exceptional physical attributes. So far, Alec was adding up to be the perfect guy. Too bad this was all about sex. He had decent boyfriend potential.

"So, your place or mine?" He started the car and slid the transmission in reverse, waiting for my answer.

Suddenly the laughter died in my throat like someone had wrapped their hands around my throat to choke me.

"I should warn you. I have a roommate. Chances are he's out, but there's no guarantee."

"Oh, my place works," I croaked. This was really happening. The air in the car felt heavy and humid. Of course, I'm sure my blood pressure had just shot up a hundred points. I reached for the temperature knob, turning the air down to cool me off. "I hope you don't mind. I'm sweating like a pig." Brilliant. I couldn't believe I had said that. Comparing myself to a pig was the perfect picture he needed to keep his blood boiling. Maybe next I'd do my impression of a sheep.

"It's all right. Make it as cool as you need."

I settled back in my seat, giving him directions to my apartment while I willed my nerves to behave. Second thoughts began to weigh heavily on me. I was anxious to end my virgin status, but I had always pictured my first time being with someone I loved. Not someone I lusted over.

I shook my head, trying to snap myself out of a possible change of heart. I wanted this. After tonight, when I wrote a love scene it would come from personal experience. The feelings and sensations would be legitimate. I should have done this a long time ago. Hell, this was research. Writing romance was my job. I owed it to myself and to my readers.

Chapter Six

The drive to my apartment passed in a countdown of mixed emotions. Just when I had myself convinced it was no big deal, Mom's voice would creep in, telling me how special sex was and that it shouldn't be casual. On the other hand, I wasn't sixteen anymore. I wasn't even eighteen. I was a real adult. If I could drink, I could have sex. Surely Mom didn't intend for me to be a virgin forever. My dad probably had other plans, but even he had to realize I couldn't be his little girl forever.

"You okay?" Alec asked as he merged off the highway.

I nodded my head wondering if the indecision on my face had been that obvious. Looking down, I realized his question probably stemmed from the way I was gripping the sides of my seat like I was expecting him to hit an eject button at any moment.

Alec reached over to rest his hand on mine. My fingers tensed in response before loosening so he could thread his fingers through them. He lifted our joined hands, placing them on his thigh like he had in the restaurant. This time they were higher. Like danger-zone high. Looking down at the bulge in his pants, it was clear he wanted this to happen. In a way, it flattered me. I wondered if that made me sound slutty. On the other hand, don't all women want to be desired?

Testing the waters, I moved my hand a fraction of an inch, smiling with satisfaction when he shifted in his seat. My confidence began to skyrocket at his reaction to my touch. I moved my hand a bit higher as he turned down my street. The dampness between my legs became shockingly noticeable to me, along with a dull ache that was begging to be alleviated.

Alec's fingers flinched on top of mine, but he didn't stop my hand from moving upward. My pinkie made contact with the side of his cock, which felt like a hard pipe in his jeans. I shifted in my seat, trying to alleviate the twinge of dampness between my legs. I was so worked up I nearly missed the turn into my apartment building.

At my instructions, he abruptly jerked the wheel into the parking lot. Feeling powerful and utterly sought after for perhaps the first time in my life, I placed my hand firmly on top of him, feeling the full extent of what he had to offer in his pants.

He slammed the car into park, but neither of us moved to get out. Instead, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes as my hand slowly stroked him through his jeans. His breath whistled between clenched teeth.

"You're killing me, sweetheart." He reluctantly removed my hand from his lap and opened his door. I climbed from the vehicle, more than pleased with myself. I could do this. I was ready.

Alec adjusted himself before joining me at the front of the car. I couldn't help smiling. "You look awfully happy with yourself," he murmured. Taking me by surprise, he lifted me effortlessly and stepped forward so my ass rested on his car. The hood was warm from the drive. He parted my legs, settling right where I wanted him.

I nearly groaned with pleasure. Actually, I think I did groan, but I couldn't say for sure. My body felt like it was controlling itself. I was just along for the ride. Hopefully, the best ride of my life.

Alec dropped his mouth to my neck, nibbling on my earlobe. I wrapped my legs around his waist to pin him against me. Not that he was going anywhere. "You're so fucking sexy," he growled. His lips trailed across my lower neck to the top of my bosom. He tugged at the neckline of my shirt, nimbly popping the top two buttons open. I bucked against him at the contact. With his shirt gripped tightly in my fist, I pulled at him, practically begging for him to take it off.

The humid air outside combined with the heat we had generated between us caused a fine sheen of perspiration on our skin. "My apartment," I finally managed to say when I heard the distant sound of someone chucking trash into the large bins on the far side of the parking lot.

"Definitely," he said, moving his hands under my butt so I clung to him like a monkey. His lips continued to explore my neck as I pointed toward the stairs that led to my apartment. For the first time ever I wished I lived on the ground floor.

He climbed to the second floor without releasing me. When we reached my door he slowly lowered me to the ground, allowing our bodies to grind against each other. I fumbled around in my purse for my keys with my back pressed against the door. Alec stared at me in anticipation. Finally, my hand closed around them and I practically yanked the keys from my bag. Before I could negotiate the lock, Alec anchored me in place. "I've wanted to do this since yesterday." His face moved forward, ready to kiss me.

"I was a mess yesterday," I sighed, waiting for our lips to meet.

"A hot mess. I wanted to rip that wet T-shirt off after you went in the water."

My legs had as much substance as cooked spaghetti. If he wouldn't have been holding me up, I would have fallen at his feet in a puddle. He maneuvered his body so he could part my legs with his knee. "Yes," I moaned softly, grabbing at his back with my free hand.

He stopped and lowered his head to my chest. "Good god, woman. You seriously know how to make me want you. Keep this up and I'm going to take you hard and fast against this door," he warned a breath away from me.

"I dare you," I whispered brazenly just before his lips claimed mine. His mouth was gentle, but commanding—guiding me like the conductor of a symphony. I realized quickly that I needed to rethink the way I wrote kissing scenes in my books from now on. All my male characters should use their tongues as boldly as Alec. It left me wondering, or flat-out hoping, he was as adept with his tongue in other areas. He pulled back, making me slouch with disappointment.

"I figured we better take this party inside unless you're up for giving your neighbors an after-dinner show." He reached for my keys and deftly opened my front door. His lips claimed mine again as he backed me in through the doorway. What he said made sense, but all I cared about was that he didn't stop. I had entered the point of no return. Hopefully, his passion had reached the same level. He closed my front door behind us and bolted the lock. All else faded as he lifted me into his arms. I wrapped my legs snugly around his waist as my hands dragged through his hair, holding him in place as we kissed.

Tags: Tiffany King Write Stuff Romance
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