“Okay, I got her down to one of my shirts. She’s putting the rest of them back.” Xari sat beside me and kicked her bare feet up. “Ooh, is this A Heart’s Ache?” She asked, looking at the words on my laptop. It was the second half of my finished book; A Heart’s Song. I was impressed that she could tell.
“Yeah. I should be working but…”
“When passion calls, it calls. It’s like a drug. Now, imagine how amazing your high would be if you sent a query letter to a couple hundred publishers and you heard back from one.” She beamed with a smile.
“You make it tough to write when you’re filling my head with dreams.”
“It could be your reality but you’re being a scared bitch.” She poked me and I grabbed her hand without even a second passing. I bit her finger, trapping it between my teeth. “Okay!” She conceded with a laugh, snatching her finger out of my mouth.
“Now, let me get some words in, woman.” I nipped at her shoulder.
“Fine. You know I’m right though.”
“Nah. You’re being crazy. My stuff isn’t ready for a publisher,” I insisted.
“Okay, Evander.” She rolled her eyes and stood up. “I’m going to practice.”
I already knew the sound of her music would relax me. It always did. I also knew I’d find myself sitting on the couch in the formal living room listening, watching, and needing to be closer to her.
I held off for as long as I could. I wrote words and fleshed out my storyline. I hammered out steamy dialogue and even got into an amazing sex scene. I couldn’t write about sex without looking at the woman who made my dick hard with one look.
When I stood to follow the melody floating from the formal living room, Frankie showed up with a smile. “Hey, sweetheart,” I said leaning down to kiss her forehead.
“Hey, Daddy. You don’t have whiskey.” She glanced down at my hands then back into my eyes.
“No, I don’t. I was getting some work done.”
“You usually have whiskey when you write or work from home.”
“Not all the time,” I countered, scrubbing my palm against my chin.
“Yeah. All the time.”
Damn, if my drinking was so habitual that Frankie noticed when I didn’t have a glass in my hand, something was wrong.
“Can I use the oven? I saw a recipe on YouTube I wanna try.”
“Yeah, don’t broil anything unless either me or Xari is in there with you though.” I loved watching her blossom and fall in love with cooking. She wasn’t half-bad either. I liked the bagels she packed me for lunch last week and she’d become an expert pancake maker.
“Hey,” I walked into the formal living room and sank into the couch. Xari’s eyes opened long enough to look at me and flash a sexy smile. God, I wanted to kiss her lips and pull her against me. Instead, I poured all that passion into my words.
The more Xari played, the easier my words flowed out. She was truly a muse to my writing. When she took a break and the music stopped, my eyes jerked to her. She was stretching with her eyes closed.
She raised her hands above her head and leaned to the left and then the right. She was a slender reed in the moonlight. My feet carried me to her before I knew what I was doing.
I slid my hands down her sides making her big brown eyes snap open. “You scared the fuck out of me. You know Frankie is right in the kitchen.” Her hushed tone and cautious expression only made me want to kiss her and touch her more. What the fuck was wrong with me?
“I know but I told you what it does to me when I see you sitting there…perched, doing what you love, looking like an angel.” I leaned down and kissed her neck, tasting the sweet warmth of her skin. My hands roamed to her breasts, kneading them and seeking out the stiff nipples beneath her blouse.
“Oh, god, Evander…” Her breathy whispers spoke directly to my cock. “You’re so fucking bad.” She pulled away, glancing toward the doorway.
“Nah…I leave that to you.”
“You already know how I feel about you,” she purred.
“Do I?” The question was eager and hungry to hear her answer.
“I guess that’s something we need to talk about when we discuss the uh…contract.” For the first time since I met her, Xari sounded completely unsure. It didn’t do much to boost my confidence. Maybe she didn’t feel as strongly as I did. Maybe she didn’t want to take our friends-with-benefits relationship to the next level.
I did though.
“What is this contract you guys keep talking about?” Frankie frowned. Where the hell did she keep coming from? I had to figure out what was going on with me and Xari before my head was completely wrapped up in her with no hope for a cure.
“Xari’s contract,” I stammered, shoving my hands in my pockets and angling myself so she wouldn’t see my erection.
“She’s not leaving, is she?” Frankie’s eyes were wide pools of emotion. She looked like my little girl right then. Sometimes she shifted in and out of maturity and childlikeness. I had a love-hate relationship with the preteen years. I loved watching her grow and become independent, but I hated how much she was growing away from me.
“No, girl. You can’t get rid of me that easy,” Xari chuckled.
“We need to discuss when she wants to move into the guest house.” That was bullshit. I hated lying to my daughter but I couldn’t tell her about Xari and me until I knew if there was a Xari and me. If there was a chance, then I’d break it to her with Xari by my side.
…
Bedtime for Frankie came quickly and consisted of hugs and kisses from me and a hug from Xari along with lots of secretive giggles that used to make me uneasy and curious. Now, I knew those giggles meant Frankie was having fun. I’d never heard her laugh so much.
I settled in my bedroom to write because I didn’t want to be in the living room or the den. I wanted to be somewhere intimate and quiet when I talked to Xari about what was going on between us.
When I knew Frankie was in bed with the lights out, I sent Xari a text to meet me in my bedroom. About seven minutes later, she was knocking softly on the door before pushing it open and walking in. The way she swayed her slender hips and shapely legs over to the bed, forced my eyes to focus on her.
I might have been the writer but Xari was the words. She was the whisper in my ear that told me being a published author was a real possibility. My heart thumped harder in her magnetic presence.
“You’re not writing in the den tonight?” She asked, climbing on the bed to sit beside me. I shut my laptop because when she was in the room, all my concentration honed in on her anyway.
“Nah, I felt like writing in my room tonight. Plus, I wanted to talk to you.” My hand slid over to her thigh. It was warm and firm beneath my touch. I wanted to spread her legs and speak my feelings directly into her pussy.
That would have been easier than admitting I wanted something deeper with her. It would have been easier than admitting what I knew was happening in my heart and head. It was the first time they both agreed on the same thing.
“You wanted to talk to me or fuck me?” She grinned.
“You and this nasty little mouth, Xari.” I gripped her smooth jawline and she giggled. She was always down to do whatever felt right in the moment. I didn’t know how she would feel about pursuing something deeper though.