Broken by Lisa Edward Page B

laughter.
    “What are you thinking?” he asked, sitting up straighter in his seat so he could see the lists over my shoulder.
    I was still scanning my options, tapping my chin, deep in thought. “I’m thinkin’ ya like pussy, right? And I’m quite partial to rigid length . Maybe they could go together?”
    He didn’t answer. Maybe he didn’t hear me? I raised my eyes to see if he was pondering what I’d just suggested.
    Deep blue eyes were fixed on me as his mouth parted and the tip of his tongue wet his bottom lip.
    “Whatcha think?” I asked again, excited that maybe these sex scenes weren’t going to be the challenge I had first thought. “I mean, if she’s turned on by a first glance of her man in uniform, then I could write somethin’ ’bout her pussy becomin’ wet and a warmth radiatin’ through her body at the thought of his rigid length penetratin’ her.” I stopped, not quite happy with how that sounded. “Oh, I know, not rigid length, maybe his hard-on inside her?”
    Adam’s head tilted to one side, but his examination of my face continued. “Tell me, how does a girl so innocent and pure have a head full of smut and not even realize it?”
    My face flushed as I looked anywhere but at Adam. “Makin’ up stories was somethin’ I always did when I was growin’ up. After my parents were killed and I went to live with Mimi, makin’ up stories was what got me through some of the tough times when I felt so alone.”
    “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” Adam’s eyes were full of sorrow and I appreciated it, but I didn’t want his pity.
    Shrugging it off, I continued. “It was a long time ago. I was only seven when it happened.” I fidgeted nervously. I hated talking about my childhood. “So anyways, makin’ up stories became writin’ stories; then in college my best friends and I started writin’ erotica. At first it was just for a laugh, but people actually wanted to read it, so I kept goin’.”
    “You must have had a pretty…active social life in college?” he said with a mischievous wink.
    I rolled my eyes. “I just tried to write what people wanted to read. It doesn’t mean I wrote from experience. Charles and I never…we didn’t…until we were married.” My hands fidgeted again in my lap and I dropped my gaze to watch them.
    “You mean you were a virgin when you married the monk?”
    I nodded, but didn’t raise my eyes. “I know, pretty lame, huh? I bet you were at all the frat parties, sowin’ your English wild oats like nobody’s business.”
    A low deep rumbling from his chest erupted into laughter. “I had some fun at college, can’t deny that. There were some oats sown.”
    “What about now? Do you still have lots of fun ?” It was definitely none of my business, but I wanted to know if he was a love ’em and leave ’em kind of guy, especially since he’d had his heart broken by that bitch Annabel.
    His warm hand wrapped under my jaw, lifting my face so I was looking into his eyes. “I get my fair share of offers, but I’m very, very fussy about whom my throbbing sword parties with.”
    Now I was laughing at his throbbing sword reference. “Well, bein’ here with me must be a huge shock to your system, then.”
    “It is, but in a good way. You are a rare find indeed, my dear Evie.”
      
    Christmas was in two days’ time, and I was planning on letting it slip right by without so much as a blip on my radar.
    After my chat with Adam about the elusive sex scenes in my novel, I had decided to give it a try and immerse myself in the characters, trying to feel what they were feeling and then articulate it well enough to touch people in the heart or gut or slightly lower, depending on the mood I was trying to evoke.
    Sitting at the dining table, tapping away at the laptop had become extremely comfortable to me, and I was flying through another chapter when my phone buzzed. I’d had limited contact with the outside world, other than Adam and a few