Welcome to another WIP It Up Wednesday, where erotic authors share from their works in progress and give you a heads up on super sexy new stuff to top up your hungry kindle.
This week I’m sharing from a story tentatively entitled Spirit, though that could change. It’s about a homeless kid who is stunned by a remarkable act of generosity from a man she has never met before. Maybe Beth’s initial attraction to Matt is just youthful infatuation. Maybe she mistakes gratitude and hero-worship for love. But when they meet again seven years later and the chemistry is even more electric, what’s the explanation then?
Here’s the excerpt…
“My spare room. Yours for now.” He opens the door with his elbow and carries me inside, finally depositing me on the double bed. “Wait there a moment. Do not move.”
Obedient, I do exactly as he instructed, not even lying down in case I spoil his lovely pale blue duvet cover. Less than a minute later he’s back, and this time he’s carrying a bright white T shirt.
“Can you get undressed on your own or do you need me to help?”
“I…” It’s been a while since I properly undressed. You don’t tend to when someone is likely to steal your clothes. I start to fumble with the buttons on my grubby overcoat.
“Here, let me.”
I abandon the effort and allow him to unfasten my coat and slip it off. He does the same with the jacket under it, and the sweater under that. Despite my layers I’m still frozen. When he has me down to my own grimy, threadbare T shirt he starts on my pants. Two pairs of jeans are peeled off and dumped in a pile with the rest of my stuff, as well as my thick socks. I’m particularly fond of those socks, I nicked them from the Rohan shop. Thermal lined, the works.
Matt stops and stands over me. “Do you want to do the rest yourself?”
I nod, and watch him as he crosses the room towards the door. He’s leaving me to it.
I cross my arms under my breasts and try to heave my tatty T shirt over my head. I can’t manage it. I can’t even lift my arms as far as my shoulders.
There’s a low curse, then Matt is back. He eases the hem of my T shirt from my fingers and pulls the garment over my head. I have no underwear on. I am naked, shivering with a mix of fever-induced chill and apprehension. Despite all I said downstairs, I have still allowed him to undress me without so much as a protest, and now…
The white cotton of the new, clean T shirt slips over my head. Matt eases my arms through the sleeves and draws it down to arrange it around my hips.
“There, all clean and dry.” He reaches across me to pull back the duvet. “Get in.”
I do, and he tugs the quilt back up to my chin. I close my eyes, savouring the simple, blessed luxury of it.
“Would you like something to eat? A warm drink?”
I shake my head, but he seems not to want to take that answer. “I’ll get you some tea.”
He stands, and this time he does leave the room. The door clicks shut behind him, and I close my eyes again.