The Outing Moment

Beth told Dorian.

They’re friends, they talk.

So tonight I received a text from Dorian—which I ignored. He and I have a standing agreement. We fight, we both have those types of personalities.

Oh, and the makeup sex. Who can argue with that?

He was supposed to text me two days ago with an ‘apology’ and never did. So I was actually annoyed with him. I’m not at the beck and call of someone who doesn’t even follow the rules he set out for the both of us.

When I ignored the text, I received a call.

It’s from Dorian, I answer with an annoyed greeting. He informed me that he had dinner prepared, dessert at the ready, and I was to be there in twenty minutes.

Again, this is a standing arrangement that we’ve come to. He’s not just a jerk. I agreed to these rules, I can walk away at any time.

But to walk away from that face…

I headed over to Dorian’s place and had a delightful dinner. Looking back now, I know he was taunting me with his knowledge throughout. He told me right off that he had spoken with Beth and they had discussed a great many things, new things and so on.

All through dessert, I simply sat, enjoying the meal and conversation. I thought of the things to come, the things that I know come after just such a meal, after chocolate lava cake is served to me.

I’m a sucker for dark chocolate.

And dark eyes, and black hair… and that face. Not to mention what he does to me.

Which all led to my being pinned to the couch, my hands bound and held above my head by his. Dorian hovering over me, lips almost against my neck as he chuckled. I whined, of course, it’s been a while.

“If you want it so bad, I suggest you finish the book.”

What?

It was like those stories from Greek or Roman myth, I can never remember. In their version of hell, all those folk bound in the water, who would bend to drink, only to have the water recede. When they lifted their heads, the water returned. I felt as if it was like that.

I didn’t understand what he meant, so Dorian went on to explain.

Beth told him (accidental as it may have been) that I was writing something that might count as erotica. It probably came out the way most things do with Beth. She said I was having trouble with a book, he asked what she meant, Beth shrugged and said she knew nothing about writing sex scenes every other chapter.

Dorian may be dominating with most people, but he sees Beth as a little sister. So while he pressed her for answers, she probably wasn’t as forthcoming as he claims. The most forthcoming she would have been was providing the pen name I’ve chosen.

Urgh. So, after explaining that, Dorian grinned impishly and pulled away. He explained that those who write romance aren’t spurred on by feeding their desires, they are tormented by what they wanted to happen.

By his reasoning, the rest of the book should be simple, considering all I’ll have to do is write what I want him to do to me.

An entire book before I get what I want?

We … eventually came to an agreement. I’m not entirely happy with it.

Though I must admit, there does seem to be a certain something roiling under the story once more. I doubt his ploy will work, however.

And I don’t understand why he did it. Dorian’s never been one to jump at the idea of a romance, either in book or movie form.

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