Ross looked down at her nestling like a newborn kitten on his chest, her smile faint but so sweet, and her sighs hushed but happy, and just blinked.
Usually, he took a kind of justified pride in being able to bring a woman to orgasm. So many of them complained that, ninety-nine percent of the time, they were left hanging after their partner hit his own climax, that it had always been key for him to prove himself to be in that elusive one percent, especially since women tended to reciprocate (often in the most wonderful – if not particularly imaginative – ways) once he'd done so.
But this time, there was no prompting suggestion muttered in the girl's ear, to tell her what would make him feel the same, no subtle goad to spur her to the challenge of making him come just as hard. This time, he simply folded his arms around her, cuddling her more firmly into his chest, and pressed his lips gently against the crown of her head.
In response, she made a tiny noise of delight and rubbed her cheek against him, as though seeking warmth. There was nothing in the shop proper, or the working area, to offer her, and it was starting to get awkward to hold her up against the desk. So he gathered her shoulders close with one arm while he tucked the other behind her knees, lifting her into a carry.
“Let's get you upstairs,” he whispered to her, and she gave a sleepy nod, winding her arms around his neck.
I adore writing these parts of romance stories, where the main character is starting to fall in love. (Unfortunately, Ross is still a bit too hung up on past mistakes to completely realize what's happening. But that's part of the fun of writing a romance: helping the characters figure out how to make things work.)
I'm very close to the halfway mark, at this point, but I've decided to just keep pace for a while. It's actually easier for me to write during the work week: I've got a commute of nearly an hour (round trip), and a lunch break, and I can close my door so no one will bother me. When I'm at home, on the weekends, it's a bit more difficult to find time to just lock myself away and concentrate on my writing.
I've also set up a Blogger account, to track my NaNo progress. It's a bit more public than this journal, but I haven't publicized it yet. I keep vacillating whether I want to share these excerpts with the wide world or not. Oh, well. We'll see.
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