Don’t you have a date tonight?!! How about you use your time and worry about THAT?
You’ve only read the table of contents in my books.
That hardly qualifies you as a “fan.”
Bella
THREE Bella/Christina
Four days after my blown deadline
(And no, I didn’t really get an extension. I’m currently avoiding my editor…and my agent.
I’m also avoiding Ryan, until I get finished anyway.)
(Oh, and my book isn’t about “more than fucking.” It’s pure smut like all my others.)
Whenever I needed some much-needed inspiration or a break from my writing, I drove across town to the Art District and spent an entire day in my best friend Daniella’s private gallery.
As the self-proclaimed “Queen of Stone & Movie Sex,” she specialized in turning her favorite romance films into dedicated rooms where she displayed naked sculptures and blown glass. (Emphasis on the “blown” since she was known for crafting pricey pictures of what she thought fictional couples’ blow jobs looked like behind closed doors.)
She was also the first person I met when I moved to this city a few years ago, and we became instant besties after one glass of wine.
“Do you think I made Jack’s cock too big?” She stepped into the Titanic-themed room and crossed her arms. “I mean, it had to be huge if Rose was willing to give up a life of wealth to be with him, right?”
I looked over at the nine-inch cock that protruded from his personalized statue. “No, it’s not too big, but it may be too thin. It looks like a mascara wand.”
“Yeah, but I did that intentionally.” She shrugged. “He died in the end. He didn’t even try to save himself.”
I gave her a blank stare.
“What?” She laughed. “It’s been months since you’ve seen a cock in real life anyway. I shouldn’t even ask for your opinion. Anyway—” She clasped her hands together. “I’m still working on my room for The Notebook, but it should be done by tomorrow. Want me to open the balcony for you, so that you can write for a few hours?”
“Sure.” I picked up my folder from the floor and followed her down the winding hallway. I followed her through a set of double doors, and waited for her to unlock the gorgeous outdoor seating area that overlooked downtown.
“Here you are,” she said. “How long should I set the timer? I’ll have a team member bring you lunch when it’s time for your next break.”
“Two hours.”
“Will do!” She turned away.
“Wait,” I said. “Do I have any missed calls or texts? Any new notifications from Words & Letters?” I tried not to look too excited for a chance at a brief distraction.
“Um…” She pulled my phone out of her pocket and tapped the screen. “A few readers asked when your next book was coming. Your mother texted and asked why you haven’t called her back yet, and your dad sent you a picture text of him at the golf course with the caption, ‘I finally beat Dane at golf today! All these years later. Hope you’re well.” She tilted her head to the side. “In this picture, this Dane guy looks pretty sexy. I mean, I’m not one for older men, but damn…He’s more than worthy of an exception.”
“Any other texts?”
“No, really.” She was still staring at the screen, biting her bottom lip. “He’s hot as hell. You should give me his phone number.”
“What?” I refused to take her seriously. “Tell my dad that I said, Congrats, and then delete the picture since I’m running low on storage space.”
“You don’t want to see this guy at all?”
“I know who he is, Daniella. I’ll pass.” I shook my head. I hadn’t seen my dad’s friend Dane in years, but I didn’t need to see a picture of him to know that he was attractive.
Whenever I flew to see my Dad for his custody weekends, Dane was always waiting in baggage claim to pick me up on his behalf. He always escorted me to one of his luxury sports cars as we left the airport, and every woman who laid eyes on him did a complete double take.
It didn’t help that his pickup attire was usually a thin white T-shirt that revealed all of his muscles, or that he insisted on wearing this spicy, intoxicating cologne that seemed to draw the onlookers even closer. He also had a perfect, pearly white smile that he flashed to anyone who glanced in his direction.
Completely oblivious to whatever charm he had on people, I hardly ever said more than, “Hello, Dane,” and “Thanks for picking me up.”
I was too preoccupied with my endless string of teenage crushes to ever pay that much attention to him. The main thing I remembered was my Dad always joking, “Dane is a pussy magnet who can have any woman he wants…I can’t believe that I settled for your mother.”
“Is that it, Daniella?” I asked.
“No, there’s one more thing. You also sent a ‘Cut the Shit’ letter to your friend Ryan.”
What? “No, I didn’t.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “I haven’t written him since Monday.”
“That’s because I wrote it,” she said. “You always talk about this guy like he’s one of your best friends, so I was wondering why he’s never offered to meet you in person.”
“We both agreed to keep things online.” I crossed my arms. “What did you say?”
“We’ll discuss it after you finish.” She tapped her watch and smiled a bit wider.
“Will I have any desire to kill you whenever I read it?” I asked.
“Not at all.” She shook her head. “I was super nice in the letter, and I didn’t write anything that you wouldn’t say. I mean, I might’ve sexed it up a tad more than you usually do, but—”
“Give me my phone right now.” I jumped up from my chair and chased her around the balcony like a madwoman. I managed
