“Yikes,” Mary Allison blew air through her teeth. As the realization struck, she lifted an eyebrow and yanked her head back. “Wait…extension? You give extensions to your other authors?”
Holden’s gaze cut away from hers and he made a nervous sounding laugh. “Like I’d leave you alone long enough to need one. That’s not even the point though. I have to go calm that nutter down and track down some of our part-timers to help him.”
“I understand but you can’t leave like that.” She reached over and stroked her finger up his dick. Holden hadn’t taken the time to zip or button his pants yet.
“No.” He placed his hand over his cock. “I can’t let our first time be a half-ass quickie.”
Mary Allison’s ears perked up as she heard the word “first.” Did Holden have designs on a second and third time?
“When we make love, I’m going to take my time and do it properly.” He leaned in for a kiss.
Stunned by his choice of words, she accepted his kiss but grabbed his sleeve to make sure he didn’t get away. She wrapped her arms around his waist and slipped her hands up the back of his shirt, trailing her nails across his skin. Holden groaned into her mouth before slowly pulling back to break the kiss.
“You don’t fight fair.” His blue eyes glimmered.
“You know, some people think I’m a pretty decent artist.” She shrugged.
Holden raised an eyebrow questioningly and shot her a look. “Just what are you saying?”
She smiled. “Well, I wouldn’t be opposed to helping you out.”
“Oh shit! Mary Allison, are you serious? You have no idea what you are offering, but I won’t turn it down.”
“I don’t mind, but of course, you will owe me.” She smirked and winked.
“I will pay up tenfold!” He pulled her into a big hug.
“All right, give me a second to change pants.” She pointed down at the soaked crotch of the pair she was wearing.
“Oops, sorry about that.” His entire face turned red.
“No need to apologize for what you did there.” She grinned before she turned to walk off to her bedroom to change.
Chapter Three
When they arrived at Mark’s place and Mary Allison first laid eyes on the guy, he wasn’t at all what she had expected. For whatever reason, she’d pictured him as an unkempt, obese recluse, sitting around in a dirty white t-shirt while scarfing potato chips. The truth was something much different. Slender and kind of cute, he stood only a few inches taller than her, had a boyishly handsome face, and was dressed like an Abercrombie model. Despite the presence of a few thin lines between the man’s brows, Mark looked more like a high school senior than a successful, thirty-three-year-old artist.
The state of the man’s apartment was a shock as well. Except for a spotless and well-organized work area, the rest of the place was an absolute dump. Fast food wrappers, empty energy drink cans, and other unidentifiable trash littered the kitchen table, coffee table, end tables, and pretty much any other flat surface above the floor. Several clusters of books stacked in medium-sized towers stood haphazardly in both the den and kitchen. Garbage bags, needing to be hauled out to the trash chute, sat piled around the kitchen trashcan. A disorganized jumble of what appeared to be clean clothing was left to wrinkle on the couch while dirty clothes were strewn in piles on the floor. She had heard stories about some graphic artists and writers getting bogged down during peak times and losing sight of everything else, but she had never actually witnessed such a scenario until she walked into Mark Melton’s home.
“Who is she?” The small fry shrieked at Holden as if Mary Allison wasn’t standing right there.
“Calm down, Mark. Mary Allison is an artist. She’s here to help you.”
“Really?” the man asked as he looked at her with adorably wide, brown eyes. His childish features and expressive face reminded her of a pitiful cartoon cat.
“Absolutely.” She held out her hand. Instead of shaking hands with her as she had expected, Mark leaned down formally and pulled the back of her hand to his lips for a kiss, as if he were some sort of aristocrat welcoming her to the ball. Considering the situation and the filthy surroundings, Mary Allison looked over at Holden and raised a questioning eyebrow.
He mouthed the words “told you” while twirling his finger around beside his ear to signify Mark was batshit crazy.
“Well, let’s dig in.” She removed her hoodie jacket and sat down at a drafting table. To get a feel for his work, Mary Allison spent a few minutes flipping through previous issues of Mark’s comics and was impressed by his talent. His illustration style was very different from her Japanese-manga-inspired drawings but she had no doubt she could mimic his technique. In regards to the story’s plot, Mark was an imaginative guy with fresh ideas, but based on how many storyboards they needed to finish he was way behind schedule.
While she and Mark worked, there wasn’t a lot for Holden to do, but Mary Allison would have killed him if he left her alone with Mark. The man-child was high-strung, stressed and likely to freak out if he ran into a hitch without his editor hovering nearby to hold his hand. To pass the time, Holden read some of Mark’s earlier works.
After a grueling stretch of illustrating in another artist’s style, her body head, heart, and body felt exhausted. When she worked on her stuff, her inspiration guided her; but creating someone else’s vision was much more difficult. She wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting in the same spot but her neck
