Sample Chapter: Anticipation
Hiya, Peeps. How’s it going with you all?
I’ve been working on something new tonight. I know what you’re gonna say – that I already have several projects under my wing and I shouldn’t be writing new material.
I’m going openly blame my muse for this sudden burst of inspiration. Honest to goodness, he wouldn’t allow this idea to die, and kept pushing it and pushing it until I sat down tonight and gave free rein to what he wanted me to write. He’s been wanting me to write this little piece for days, I just kept putting it off till now.
The genre for this is Romance, Erotica. Yep, you heard it right. This had been a previously an untitled manuscript (utm, for short), but my muse has been quite attentive and decided to listen to a good friend’s suggestion. He has decreed that the book’s title shall be Anticipation, instead of allowing said name to be that of this first chapter. I must confess that I haven’t written this type of genre in years. There’s a long ass story behind it, but it would take forever to explain so we’ll leave things at that.
With that said, I’d like to share with you the first chapter of this manuscript. I hope you all enjoy it. Please, do let me know what you think of it.
Thank you kindly in advance!
Leaning against the counter, I allowed myself to gaze upon the object of my affection’s beauty without his being none-the-wiser. Elliot was beautiful, even though he would never admit to such a thing. Men were like that. While guys always considered the female species to be fickle and self-centered, males were, by far, the most insecure when it came to appreciating the way we, and they, looked. Yet such a notion was totally understandable.
Smiling softly, I took in his casual stance as he perched his right hip against the edge of the bar stool; the curls of his dark-brown hair were pushed flat as he slid the sunglasses that he was wearing back so that they rested lightly across the top of his head. His broad torso was encased within a blue silk shirt, the fabric molding itself perfectly to the smooth expanse of his chest. My mouth watered as I thought about running my hands up his arms and across his rib cage.
He must have sensed the intense scrutiny of my stare, for he swung about and latched his gaze onto my own. I swallowed audibly as his lips curved into a knowing smile. Leaning towards one of his companions, he excused himself and walked in my direction. Whirling about, I pretended to sip at the Margarita that sat in front of me. All the while, I tried to still the racing of my own heart.
“You’ve been watching me, haven’t you?” he asked as he came to stand beside me.
Turning around, I looked up into his dark-brown, almost black, eyes. My cheeks flushed with color as I saw the smile that continued to play about his lips. He knows, I thought. He knows exactly what I feel for him!
Gathering a hold of my straying emotions, I plastered a look of indifference across my face. “Maybe.”
He laughed, the delicious sound of his voice sending frissons of awareness all over my body. “Smooth, Lexie,” he said. “That’s not the answer that I was hoping for, though.”
I raised a brow at him, crossing my arms about my chest. “What were you looking for exactly?”
He reached out and curled a finger around a stray curl that had fallen across my forehead. His eyes bored into mine as he let go of it and trailed the tip of his finger along the curve of my cheek. I could feel the blood coursing through my veins as I fought to control the wave of emotion that he’d set off inside of me.
Damn it all to hell, I thought. This is so not happening to me.
Sliding his finger downward, he held it directly underneath my chin. If I didn’t know any better, I could swear that his eyes were darker and full of hunger. Although my hands itched to reach up and pull him to me, I curbed that desire as quickly as it had risen.
“I was hoping that you’d tell me that you wanted me,” he replied, dropping his hand and tucking his thumb into the waistband of his jeans.
My eyes widened as I tried to comprehend the meaning behind his words. Surely, he can’t mean that? Can he? “You’re joking, right?”
He slid his long, lithe frame onto the bar stool that sat to the right of me and signaled the bartender. “Am I?”
The barkeep slid a mug of Baderbräu in front of Elliot, and I watched as he pulled several crinkled bills out of his pocket. He slid them across the counter and watched as the bartender scooped them into his hands. Wrapping his fingers about the stein’s handle, he brought it forward and bestowed me with a mock salute as he took a hearty swig. He smacked his lips with gusto as he set the cup down.
“Do you honestly think that I am?” he prodded lightly.
I shrugged. “It’s hard to say, Elliot. You’re hard to read.”
His soft chuckle was music to my ears. “Funny. I could say the same thing about you.”
My mouth went dry. “Oh?”
The potency of his gaze was overpowering. “You know how in Twilight, Edward has a hard time reading Bella’s thoughts? Actually, he can’t read them at all, I think. Well, you’re like that, for me. I never know what it is that you’re thinking. You’re an enigma. One that is hard to understand,” he admitted.
Breaking my line of sight, I looked down at my hands as they rested lightly against the edge of the counter. His admission had blown me away. So much so, that I didn’t know what to make of it. When I’d agreed to meet Aliora at the Sin City Night Club, I had hoped, but had never actually expected, to see Elliot Michaels here. And now he’s sitting here beside me guzzling a stein full of beer, having a conversation that seems so totally out of the norm, I thought, a knowing smile hovering about my lips.
“You probably say that to all the ladies.”
He chortled, the light within his eyes dancing with amusement. “You really think so?”
He reached out and curled his hand about the curve of my left cheek and gently pulled my face around so that he could look into my eyes. “I’m going to have to burst that little bubble of yours, Babe, but no, I don’t. I’m being totally honest with you. You make me want to dig deeper. To find out what really makes you tick.”
My heart hammered within my chest as I stared back at him. “Elliot . . .”
Letting go of my chin, he slid his hand across the curve of my shoulder and drew it down the length of my arm before settling the palm of his hand against my hip. He was going to kiss me. I was sure of it. And I so want him to, I thought as I leaned towards him with anticipation.
Yet before he could do just that, Aliora appeared out of nowhere and wrapped an arm about his shoulders. Before I could object, I watched as she curled a hand around his cheek and planted her lips across his own. The imprint of his hand remained upon my skin as he moved his hands to encircle her waist.
Unable to withstand what I was seeing, I pushed myself away from the bar and threw myself into the crowd. The thought of him kissing the woman who was supposed to be my best friend sickened me. Weaving to and fro throughout the throng of bodies, I forced myself to set aside the thoughts that had begun to creep into my head. Searching out a suitable dance partner, I soon lost myself within the rhythm of the song that played overhead.