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Authors: Ravyn Wilde

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BOOK: By the Book
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Chapter Four

 

Joey followed Gray down the soft, sandy
beach to the water. It was beautiful here and quiet. “Why aren’t there people
on this beach?” she asked. She didn’t want a crowd to spoil her view but you
would think there would be
somebody
enjoying the pristine
salt-and-pepper sand. She knew from previous trips to Hawaii that the lighter
grains came from crushed coral while the black granules were from lava rock.

He smiled, sending heat zinging through her
already over-warm body. Damn, the man should be outlawed! Her brain took a
major vacation every time he looked at her.

“It’s a private beach and this area is
owned in conglomeration by me, the owner of your home and the neighbor who
lives down the beach a bit. You can’t see their house from here because of the
jungle growth between. But the law requires even the private beaches in Hawaii
to allow everyone access. Sometimes, on the weekend, there will be families
here or teenagers will come down to play around. There is no surf to speak of
as this is a protected cove but the snorkeling is pretty good. And the
fishing,” he stated.

“Oh.” After the sizzle from his smile, her
brain shut down.

They walked quietly for some distance and,
though strange, the silence felt comfortable to Joey. She didn’t feel like she
needed to rush to close the gap with small talk. They came to the rocky point
at the end of the sand, and she assumed whatever he wanted to show her would be
here. Wrong. He started up a hidden path that wound between the rocks.

“It’s not much farther,” he said.

“You’re right, I wouldn’t have explored
this on my own. I would have thought I was trespassing,” she replied.

“We are. But it’s okay. The owners are
friends and I come out here often.”

Several seconds later, they rounded another
bend and the scene before her took Joey’s breath. “Oh, my God! It’s beautiful!”
Spread below her, at the bottom of the sandy path, was a pool with a small
waterfall on the other side. The mist and early morning sun combined to create
a miniature rainbow that arched over the water. Much of the area around the
pool was covered in bougainvillea and orchids There were several bushes of
bird-of-paradise flowers interspersed along the edge. The water sparkled a
clear and vibrant turquoise color. She could see all the way to the bottom of
the pond and she noticed most of what lay underneath was sand. A small strip of
beach and several low, well-worn lava rock ledges defined the end of the pool.
The effect was breathtaking.

“This is incredible. The essence of a tropical
paradise,” she murmured reverently.

“I knew you’d like it. Want to spend some
time here, go down and sit on the ledge to dangle our feet in the water?” he
asked.

“Try and stop me.”

Chuckling, he followed her along the path
and helped her balance while she stepped down a few feet onto the first rock
ledge. They sat together with their feet skimming the warm water of the pool.
Joey’s vibrant emotions were back and Gray found it impossible to do anything
but look at her. She looked beautiful. Her hair shone a warm cinnamon color in
the sun and he knew it would fall to her breasts if released from confinement.
Even bound in her ponytail, it was a wild mass of curls. He could visualize her
hair draped across his body, almost able to feel the tendrils stroke over his
aroused and very sensitive flesh. Shit! Good thing he was sitting down.

She wasn’t very tall, maybe three or four
inches over five feet, and her body…well, the only word to describe it was
lush. Ripe. God, you could use his cock for a coat hanger!

Again they were silent. Joey’s eyes darted
from one wonderful sight to another, but eventually she relaxed and just
absorbed the peace. She could not believe the almost religious serenity of this
little pond. Nothing could bother her in this place. Sighing, she turned to
Gray. “Thank you for bringing me here. And for letting me have the space to
calm down. I’m sorry I screeched at you and acted like a lunatic earlier,” she
apologized.

“There is nothing to be sorry about. I’m
not sure what set you off. The book was bad but if you ask me—and I realize you
didn’t—it’s men who should be pissed off about it all.”

She turned and looked at him with a
confused expression in her eyes. “Why men?” she asked. “I don’t understand why
men should be angry.”

“Think about it,” he replied. “From the
little I read, the author basically said all thoughts, emotions,
feelings…everything comes from a man’s penis. The woman could be a raving
maniac, incapable of carrying on any sort of conversation, unable to share any
part of your life, but if she pays enough attention to your cock, you don’t
care. I read a short story in there before you so rudely interrupted, about a
man who was deeply in love with his ex-wife. They were still best of friends
with many common interests, but she neglected his organ, and so he got a
younger, sexier wife who would go down on him anytime he wanted it. The man
even admitted he shared nothing in common with his new wife and he felt she
possessed no redeeming qualities—she even hated his cat for God’s sake—but the
sex was good. And frequent.” Pausing he turned to look at Joey. “Does that say
anything
to you but a man thinks with his dick?”

She knew her face turned red, the color
spread to her neck and ears, because he’d been so blunt. Yeah, she’d heard the
words before—after all, she used them every day in her writing. She just didn’t
use them in conversation with a man who made her body clench in repressed
longing. Before she could open her mouth to comment, he continued.

“According to the book you were reading,
men are incapable of commitment and love or any kind of dedication to a wife
and kids. I know there are men like that out there; there are women like
that—my ex-wife for one. But to say if you bow and scrape to a man’s cock,
he’ll never leave you…that’s just bullshit! I know people who get laid several
times a day and they
still
cheat on their spouses. It’s not the sex,
Joey. It’s something missing inside them.”

Joey felt a huge weight lift from around
her soul. Inside she knew everything he said was true, but hearing him say it,
really listening to the way he said it, made her a believer.
His wife
cheated on him?

Until he spoke, she didn’t realize she’d
voiced the thought aloud.

“Honey, my ex-wife slept with anyone who
looked at her.”

She glanced at him, still blushing. “I’m
sorry, it must have been painful.” And astonishing. This man was hot! What
woman in her right mind would cheat on him?

“It was painful and the experience took me
a long time to get over. At some point you have to refuse to take all the blame
and realize you weren’t meant to be together. How long have you been divorced?”
he asked.

“A year. Oh, hell. I…”

“Don’t try and backpedal now. He cheated on
you?”

Huffing, Joey took a minute to think. She
decided she owed him at least a little. “Yes, he cheated on me with his tennis
instructor. A couple of years ago, he asked me for tennis lessons for
Christmas. I gave her to him wrapped up in a pretty little package.”

Gray snorted. “If it hadn’t been the tennis
instructor, it would have been someone else. Is that why you were reading the
book? He complained you didn’t please him?”

“Yes. No. Damn you, Gray. You don’t
understand. Yes, he told me I didn’t please him. No, that was not why I was
reading the book. I thought it was a sex manual. I intended on reading it for
research. My books are supposed to have sex in them and I am having a little
trouble with writer’s block right now. I thought I might get some ideas or
inspiration for
my books,
”she stammered. Jumping up, she moved
to get around him and start up the path. With the change in the direction of
the conversation she lost her feeling of serenity.

His body shuddered with the memory of her
books. She didn’t write sex, she wrote erotic dynamite. He moved to follow her.
Damn, she moved fast. He didn’t catch her until she reached the beach on the
other side of the trail.

“Whoa. Stop. Joey, talk to me. I don’t
quite understand,” he said as he reached her and caught her by the arm, turning
her to him. “Pass that by me again.”

Sighing, speaking as if she spoke to a
child, she explained, “I write Romantica. Erotic romance. They are books for
people who like a great love story with hot sex. In my books, it’s not the sex
that’s important…it’s the story. The sex is dessert. But if I can’t write the sex,
if I have writer’s block, then there is no dessert. No dessert, no money.”

He didn’t think now was a good time to
mention he’d read many of those books. “So…you’re reading the sex manuals to
give you ideas for adding sex to your stories?”

“Yes, hallelujah, he got it,” she snarled.

“Joey, if you don’t have any idea if it
feels good, how can you write about it?”

She looked at him like he’d lost his mind.
“Are you kidding? Most of the books I write are fantasy and science fiction.
Aliens. Or they are paranormal books, full of vampires and werewolves, Gray. A
human can’t do sex the way an alien does it. If I can get an idea, if I can
mentally imagine it…believe me, I can make it feel good on paper.” Feeling
somewhat foolish she stomped off again. “Go home, Gray.”

“Joey, stop.” Again he chased after her.
First chance he got, he planned to chain this woman to a post somewhere so he
could finish a conversation with her in one place. The mental picture created
by his thought inflamed his body. Jesus, what this woman could do to him
without even being aware of it. Catching hold of her once more, he stood in
front of her, putting one hand on either shoulder to keep her still. “Joey,
you’re going to look at the pictures in those books, turn them upside down and
sideways, wonder if any real person can actually
do
that, and go on to
the next. You won’t know or feel how it works, you won’t think…ah, this is
wonderful, or damn, this is killing my back. It won’t work.” God, please let
her see it wouldn’t work. His body clenched in panic, afraid he wouldn’t be
able to convince her to understand his reasoning.

She glared at him. Damn him. It really
irritated her that he was right. She hadn’t just bought those stupid books for
the trip to Hawaii. She’d had them for a month. She’d done exactly what he
said—turned the book upside down and sideways and wondered how the hell anybody
did that. The worst part had been her state of mind… she wondered
why
anyone would
want
to do any of it.

“All right, Einstein. What would you
suggest? And don’t you dare say ‘have sex with me’,” she injected. Her body
waged war with her mind…she thought of him…naked and straining against her.
Damn!

He looked at her considering…he had been
going to say have sex with him, or at least a version of it. “All right, we can
do this without having sex. What if we explore positions, tactile situations
and sensations?”

“And how
exactly
are we supposed to
do that without having sex?”

“Bathing suits.”

“What in God’s name are you taking about?”
she laughed in disbelief.

Yeah, it sounded stupid even to him. But it
was too late to back out now and, besides, he didn’t want to back out. He was
desperate to get closer to her. He figured once she gave him a chance…” Well,
for one thing, we can wear bathing suits and then put ourselves in the
positions in your books and do some of the exercises. Maybe you can at least
get some idea if the positions are possible, or remotely sensual. That should
work, at least until you succumb to my charms and want to have sex.”

And then he smiled again, his eyes full of
laughter and heat and male self-confidence. He was making it clear he wanted to
have sex with her. Jeez, the man looked incredible. And he made her feel good.

She studied him silently for a moment,
running what he’d said through her brain. It proved impossible; her mind just
kept getting stuck on the visual of him in a bathing suit—let alone having his
body contorted with hers in different sexual positions. She really didn’t think
she could just hop into bed with this man or any man after the head-trip her
husband put her through. But to take time to explore the possibilities…

“What do you mean, do some of the
exercises?” She needed to make sure she clearly understood his intent. She
wanted no misunderstandings.

Struggling to hide his grin, he knew he had
her now. “Well, I read through
The
Joy of Sex
once. There were
exercises, massage techniques and stuff. And I flipped through one of your
other books on the table when you locked me outside. In your female orgasm
book, there were some exercises.” He was not about to mention the exercises
he’d read about concerned tongue movement. She’d probably slap him.

For another moment she remained silent.
Watchful. Contemplating his offer. “Why would you want to do this?”

“Now it’s you who are nuts,” he said. “Why
wouldn’t I want to do this with you?”

“Gray,” she said, with her patient
teacher-to-recalcitrant-child tone of voice, “You are a very good-looking man.
I don’t say this to stroke your ego—I’m sure that’s not necessary. But I am an
average-looking woman. There have to be other women with whom you could
practice sexual positions and not have to worry about a no sex rule.”

He looked at her intently. “Your ex-husband
really did a number on you, didn’t he, Joey? You are anything but average. I am
dying to spend time with you, get to know you, touch you…not anyone else.”
Sighing, he continued, “If you don’t believe me…believe this.” Moving one hand
slowly down her arm, enjoying the soft, silky feel of her skin, he picked up
her hand and moved it forward and placed it over the front of his pants—flat
against his unchecked erection.

BOOK: By the Book
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ads

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