“But that hero…” Lisa was talking. Her bottom lip was pulled between her teeth. “That hero, Evan Hanson is literally everything! How in the world did you come up with him?”
“Evan is every woman’s dream,” I answered, feeling pressure in my chest. “I guess I took a little bit of everything nice and mashed it all together to create the most enticing man any reader could dream of.”
“Mmm,” Lisa moaned. “He’s an alpha’s alpha, that’s for damn sure. The way you describe him on those pages – girl, you have me out in these streets looking for his ass.”
We laughed, but mine was dry.
Rochelle leaned closer. “So, there was no flesh and blood inspiration for Evan?”
My brows pulled. “W-what do you mean?” The question was clear enough, but I still required clarification.
“For example,” she began to explain, “I’ve had a few authors on the show who’ve said their stories have been inspired by real life situations or people. I guess what I’m asking is, do you know a real-life Evan Hanson, and if you do, can a sister get his digits?”
We all laughed again, but mine was cut off by another vision, but it wasn’t from one of the novels. It was a scene from last night: me holding Evan’s head as he ate my pussy, his solid length thrusting in and out of it.
To my horror, I moaned.
The women high-fived.
“She’s got someone in mind,” Rochelle squealed. “I can tell by the look on her face!”
I jerked to attention and tried to rearrange my features, but there was little I could do about my pulsating girl parts.
“Well,” I started rubbing the back of my neck, “the truth is, I don’t know how to answer that question. Over the past couple of years, I’ve dated a few men, but none of them have been like Evan Hanson.”
Unless I count Jaxson in that number…
“What about before that?” Rochelle pressed me. “Maybe a man from your past?”
“I… don’t remember,” I admitted, throat thick. The emotions were coming back in and the women frowned, as if they wanted to ask more questions, but a blaring light from one of the many phones on the desk interrupted.
“Look,” Lisa said turning to the phone. “Already, the phone lines are lighting up and we haven’t even gotten to the juicy parts yet.”
“Maybe it’s her real-life inspiration…” Rochelle considered.
I took a sloppy gulp of my water as Lisa connected the call.
“Caller, welcome to LoveTalk. You’re live with Lisa, Rochelle and the amazing Simone Storm. Talk to us.”
A woman squealed on the line and went into instant babble about how much she loved me and my books. Then she asked a question about one of the heroines. I was glad to shift the topic to something other than Evan, though I wasn’t fool enough to believe that we wouldn’t circle back around to him.
That initial phone call led to a slew of others. By the time I finished answering the callers’ questions, we’d gone through the highs and lows of both my novels. We’d also talked about other details, like our thoughts about fellatio on the first date and the best positions for hitting the G-spot – raunchy shit that had my mind pinned on Jaxson and the eruptions he’d forced out of me the night before.
Damn, did I jump the gun?
“We’ve gotta’ wrap this up,” Rochelle was finally saying, still beaming. Her cheeks were gonna’ hurt like hell by the time the show was over.
“I know,” Lisa agreed, “but we can’t let Simone go before we know what she’s preparing to serve up in the third and final installment of the series. What trouble is Evan going to get himself into? Will he finally find the woman of his dreams? The fans are dying to know.”
I laughed and prepared to deliver my pre-rehearsed answer. “Evan is a ladies’ man, but he needs his leading lady. I think we can all agree with that.”
They bobbed their heads in ubiquitous agreement.
“I haven’t quite fleshed out all of the details,” I continued, “but there is a woman. She’s stunning and exotic. She’s everything Evan has ever wanted.” I paused, thinking of all I’d seen in my mind. “The minute he sees her, he knows that she’s the only one, and no amount of drama will keep him away from her.”,
“And of course, there will be sex.”
“You know there will be sex,” I said lightly, but the words scraped my throat on the way out.
“Mind-blowing sex?” Lisa begged.
“Toe curling,” I confirmed.
Three damn chapters worth… Or more.
Rochelle sucked long and hard on her teeth, and Lisa fanned herself.
We cackled like dirty old hags as the phone started to blitz again.
Lisa reached for it, trying to regain control. “Caller, you just made it in,” she said into the phone, still tittering. “You’re live on LoveTalk Radio, with Lisa, Rochelle, and – ”
The caller cut her off. “Simmy…”
A shiver of shock flashed across my body and something heavy dropped into the pit of my stomach.
Rochelle’s eyebrows lifted to her hairline. “Simmy…” She hummed and eyed me. “Caller, it sounds as if you know the author personally,” she commented. “And if I don’t say, you sound sexy as hell on the other end of this phone!”
“Girl, this is LoveTalk and you’re the host,” Lisa said pursing her lips in obvious agreement. “You’d better say somethin’!”
I twisted in the seat.
“Your name, caller?” Rochelle continued.
“My name is Jaxson,” Jaxson answered quickly, like he was trying to get through the mundane protocols, “and yes, I know the author… personally.”
Both women pinned their eyes on me and started mouthing words, none of which I cared to understand or interpret.
I folded my hands in my lap, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity; but the truth was, the way Jaxson sounded coming through the speaker, voice husky with a tinge of angst, had my pussy vibrating in recollection of the way he’d manhandled it almost twenty-four hours ago.
“Jaxson,” Rochelle called out his name. “What do you wanna’ say to author Simone Storm? And make it juicy. Close out our show with a bang.”
“I’ll try,” he said. The bass in his voice seemed to rattle the walls of the studio. Or maybe it was only the walls of my heart.
Doesn’t matter.
“Simone, the stories you’ve written have been amazing,” he started, “but the one you’re going to write will blow even your mind.”
My mouth trembled.
“We started a story, Simone, and I’m desperate to finish it. I’m not gonna’ let you just walk away from me. I want the opportunity to make it right. I’m begging you to let me make it right.”
“It?” I snapped, barely able to focus or maintain my nonsensical anger.
“Us,” he clarified.
I rolled my eyes to stop them from stinging.
“Let me make it up to you, sweetheart.”
“How do you plan on doing that?” I demanded of him. By now, I’d forgotten that I was in a studio, on a national broadcast, in downtown New York. My tone was a classic mix of sass and lust. It dripped off my lips, thicker than raw honey. All of the emotion I was trying to push away, came storming back in. I was hot, bothered, and horny as hell.