12 Inches (A Secret Baby Dark Romance)(11)

Fuck it. Here goes nothing.

“I read your first one, Hscosideme, when it came out,” I say quietly muttering the title.

Abby looks at me and it looks like she’s holding back a smile.

“You read WHICH one?” she asks again, her body coming closer across the table to mine.

I don't like being in this fucking spot. I’m 6’ 3”. I got tribal tats from the actual ancestors of ancient tribes when I surfed in Kihei. I can bench this entire table and the people sitting around it. I’ve fucked so many women that my man credentials don’t need any defending—from Hollywood starlets to pop music icons to the fucking President’s daughter.

Then why am I worried about what I’m going to look like to this woman?

“I said,” I say out loud, and notice that Cheryl and CJ are looking at me now. Abby raises her eyebrows and widens her eyes. “I read your first one, His Cock Inside of Me, when it came out.”

Abby blinks. Twice. Her beautiful face scrunches in silent fucking mirth.

“And what did you think about the book when the cock was inside of you?” she asks.

I hear CJ give a short chuckle and Cheryl purses her lips.

They’re all fucking laughing at me.

Not for long.

I lean forward a bit more. Abby looks me in the eyes and my body gives a silent call for her to come closer. She does so involuntarily.

“I think,” I whisper and I can tell that CJ and Cheryl, who have gone back to their own conversation, are straining to catch a listen to what I’m whispering. “That when you write about guys with big dicks who pleasure their women, you’re almost there,” I say.

“Almost?” Abby asks.

“The only way you can make it definitive,” I tell her, and my eyes flash triumph. “Is to write about me.”

Fuck, remember when I said I was hesitant about co-writing? With a washed up top author?

Yeah, I’ve pretty much forgotten about all of that. I’m staring at this girl’s fucking tits. Her perfect fucking legs. Her taut, flat tummy. Her beautiful face.

And I can’t think of why I would never want to do something with her.

But she’s still talking. I need to focus and get my head back in the game because she’s asking me something.

“…really. So you think that it’s not complete until I write about how your cock can satisfy a woman?” she asks me.

I nod.

“Absolutely,” I tell her.

“And you think that’s why we should work together?” she asks again.

I shrug.

“I think that’s why we should at least have dinner together,” I tell Abby. “Away from these two,” I say, gesturing toward our PA.

“Might give us a chance to…brainstorm?” Abby asks, emphasizing the word brainstorm.#p#分页标题#e#

I have no idea why the fuck that was sexy, but my cock seems to be leaking fucking precum at the mention of Abby saying 'brainstorm' the way she just did.

“How about 8 tomorrow, at Del Posto?” I ask.

Her eyes go big.

“Don’t worry, I’m buying,” I tell her. Abby nods. Dinner at Del Posto can cost up to $1000 for two people. It’s a good thing I can bill this all to CJ.

“Tomorrow at 8,” Abby says, almost entranced.

“It’s a date, darlin’,” I tell her as I get up from the booth. “Are any of your book boyfriends as smooth as this?” I ask as I turn around to go.

“All of them,” Abby replies. I smile.

She’ll find out just how smooth. Soon enough.

The games have only just begun.





6





Abby





“Keep it professional, Abby, you don’t want to screw this up.”

“Of course I’ll keep it professional,” I tell Cheryl, my cell phone pressed against my ear. “You know me.”

“Yeah, I know you… That’s why I’m telling you this,” she replies with a sigh, and I can picture the look of exasperation she must have on her face right now. God bless her; I’m not exactly the easiest writer (or person, for that matter) to manage.

“Don’t worry, Cheryl, I promise I won’t screw this up.” Although I can’t promise if I won’t allow Aidan to, ahem, screw me. I mean, it’s not like I’m being proactive about it, but how do I even stop my brain from thinking about it? This guy is the consummate fantasy material. All alone but wet? He’s the perfect man candy; just close your eyes and let your mind (and fingers) do the rest. No wonder he used to be the go-to guy for romance covers. Still, it’s surprising that he managed to keep working in the industry for so long; he burned so many bridges you’d think he was fighting in Vietnam.