Ten Thousand Words (14 page)

Xanthe

A light woodsy scent filled my head. A hairy chest scratched my cheek. I was overly warm and comfortable.

I’m in some seriously deep shit.

Every time I thought I was close to confessing to Ollie that Elaine was me, I would get sidetracked.

Ollie liked Xanthe. That was who
I
was!

What does it matter if I used a different name?
I was still
me
, the person he liked, the woman he wanted to spend his free time with.
What would change if he knew I was the author of the Paranormal Hunters series?

The damn convention was
tomorrow
.

Ollie sighed pleasantly and wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight. “Good morning.” His deep voice was gravelly upon waking.

I loved that it was the first thing I’d heard.

“Morning,” I replied, my own voice husky with sleep.

He dropped a kiss on top of my head. “Do you have a lot of shit to do today?”

Groaning at what was ahead of me, I replied, “As a matter of fact…”

He sighed and kissed my head again. “I like waking up with you in my arms.”

I smiled against his chest. I liked it, too.

“Can we have dinner tonight? Something a little early?” he asked.

“What’s early?”

“I was thinking around five.”

“Sure. I should be finished around three or so.”

Mandy had gotten the pens and bookmarks along with the mini posters of the cover that Ollie would be signing. Just thinking about it made me break out in a cold sweat.

“Are you all right?” Ollie asked.

“I believe so.”

“It’s the time difference. Throws everything off.” He rubbed my back.

“So, I need to tell you something,” I said, feeling incredibly nervous.

His phone rang.

Closing my eyes, I exhaled.
Damn it!

“Hold that thought.” He jumped up, fishing his phone out of his pants on the floor.

“Okay,” I grumped.

Answering the phone, he walked away to have a more private conversation. “Hi, Mandy. Okay. I don’t have the info on me right this second. I’ll go fetch it.”

Preparing myself to tell him that I was the author of the Paranormal Hunters series, I zoned out. I was so engrossed with my own thoughts that I hadn’t realized when he hung up.

“What flight are you taking on Friday?” Oliver asked.

My gaze went to his. “What’s that?”

“Your flight. I was wondering if we were flying out on the same one.”

“Oh. I’m driving out that morning.”

“Driving? Why?”

“My mother and grandma are buried outside of Boston. I wanted to visit them before heading back.”

His gaze softened. “Would you want me to come with you? I’ll have Mandy cancel my flight.”

My chest warmed at the thought. “I’d like that.”

His smile wiped all thoughts from my mind, and I watched as he pulled on his clothes.

What a fine male specimen he is…

Walking up to me, he took my face in his hands. “I have to run. Mandy needs some info from me that I have up in my room. Call me when you’re heading back?”

“Will do,” I replied. Then, I was given a very thorough kiss.

Pleasantly dazed, I watched his arse as he left my room.

Wait. What the fuck just happened?

Mandy’s boobs were bouncing all over the place in her excitement. “Your dress was finished yesterday and should be waiting in your room when you get back. It looks
fabulous
. The hunter green is the exact shade I imagined as Lindsey Sparks’s eyes. Readers will think so, too.”

On Tuesday, Mandy had forced me to pick out a reveal outfit. She’d wanted me dressed up like a celebrity, and I had gone along with it. I’d found a killer vintage dress from the 1940s. Stunning, it cinched in at my waist with a satin ribbon sash, and it made my boobs look nearly as impressive as Mandy’s. It made me feel like a sexy pinup girl. I’d even gotten black fishnet stockings and black patent leather pumps to go with it.

Bro Dawg Jaime would
kill
for that dress.

Tomorrow, the real torture would begin at ten in the morning. My hair would be styled and my makeup done. The convention would start at three o’clock and last for a few hours.

Several other authors would be spotlighted with me, all of them bringing the male models on their covers to excite and entice the readers. People went nuts for the cover models, and Ollie would be fangirled over big time. Mandy had posted the new cover on social media, and that shit had blown up overnight. Women were already offering to bear his children.

I wonder if he’s seen any of it.

Mandy had tagged him, so he must have.

“How did he take the news that you’re Elaine?” she asked.

My gaze went from her breasts to her eyes. I opened my mouth, and nothing came out.

“You haven’t told him?” she shrieked.

“As it so happens, I was going to tell him last night, but we started making out instead, and I didn’t think about it after that. And then I was going to tell him this morning, but your arse called him, and he had to run out to find out some information for you or something.”

“This is ridiculous. He
likes
you!”

“I like him, too. We’re having dinner tonight. I’ll tell him then.”

“This is
so
not like you, Xanthe.”

“A lot of this entire situation is
so
not like me,” I snapped.

Here I was, braving meeting the masses, which was something I had avoided for years. It hadn’t always been like this. There was a time when I’d wanted nothing more than to meet all my readers and hear their thoughts about Paranormal Hunters. I had dreamed of the moment when I would be able to reach thousands or maybe even millions of people. That had all changed the moment a lunatic broke into my house and gave me the beatdown of a lifetime.

I’d gone to a few low-key signings years ago, but this was something else. It was a huge deal with a major publishing house. I had to
dress up
for it, damn it. I’d be sitting down and autographing upwards to two hundred books with the new cover, and when those ran out, it was expected that I’d be signing any editions readers brought with them.

“You write sex scenes that are so hot that people can’t risk reading them in public, but you hide yourself away from the one guy who thinks you’re the coolest dork he’s ever known—”

“I’m going to quit telling you shit about my private life, if all you’re going to do is throw it back in my face.”

“Bullpoop.”

“How come Dreamstone hasn’t arranged for us to meet or anything?” I asked. “Me and Ollie.”

Mandy shrugged. “It’s just not necessary. The only reason he was flown in on Monday was that we needed to make the cover and get the books ready for the convention. I set him up with that interview only to generate some interest with the cover reveal on social media yesterday. And it’s a good thing Adele had that written up within a couple of hours of the interview because she was livid he’d ditched her last night at the club.”

“Really? He just ditched her?”

“She said he went to use the restroom and never came back. She was not amused.” Mandy gave me a shrewd look. “Did you have something to do with that?”

I shrugged. “Not directly. He called and said he didn’t want to be there, so I told him where I was, and he showed up.”

Mandy smirked. “I bet. Oh! Ollie asked me if Elaine would be all right with him taking some professional portraits of her before the convention starts. I said it probably wouldn’t be a problem, but I’d ask you anyway.”

“No worries. I’ll tell him myself.”

Mandy beamed at me. “Excellent.”

With everything planned out by Mandy, all I had to do was make sure I showed up tomorrow. Final preparations in order, Mandy and I gave each other a tight squeeze. We wouldn’t see each other again until the event. She still had a ton of work to do.

“It’s going to be amazing, just you wait,” she told me softly in my ear.

“I have no doubt,” I replied warmly.

Mandy was incredible at her job and took immense pride in her work.

As I left the building and hailed yet another taxi, I pulled out my phone and called Ollie.

“Hey, sweetheart.” His deep voice rumbled through my phone.

“Hey. I just finished. Everything is ready to go for tomorrow, so…looks like I can just relax for the rest of the day. What are you up to?”

“Chapter twenty-three of
Haunted Bonds
. I thought chapter eleven was hot, but, my God, this one…”

As I recalled that particular scene, I felt myself tingle and blush. This man constantly had me in varying shades of crimson.

“You think Elaine acts these out for research or something? Because, Jesus, it’s some seriously awesome sex.”

I cleared my throat. “I, uh…”

The fact was…I had—not like going out and picking up random dudes to bring home or anything, but I’d previously had a lot of stimulating sex with my ex-lover, Deo. It’d made writing the scenes more believable, for sure.

“I want to try out chapter twenty-three with you, Xanthe.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. It was the scene where Donovan and Lindsey had some pretty descriptive shower sex. That scene, I had never tried personally, but I had been inspired by one of Jaime’s stories about her and Ricki on their honeymoon.

“Yeah,” I said, exhaling, “That might be fun…”

He was laughing as I jumped into a taxi.

“Call me when you get here. I have to finish this,” he said before hanging up.

What the fuck am I getting myself into?

Ollie was a known playboy. He had women lined up and down a metaphorical street to get in his pants. His social media pages were filled with photos of him out and about, partying and living the fast life with a shit-ton of gorgeous people. I was so not up his alley, and it was bewildering that he had any interest in me whatsoever.

Shut up, Xanthe,
I scolded myself.

Ollie was
beautiful
. Painfully, wonderfully, jaw-droppingly beautiful.

And I was just…weird-ass Xanthe. A cute dork.

I was still trying to convince myself that last night had actually happened. Darling photographer of Amsterdam, Oliver Fairfax had kissed me breathless, dry-humped me to the edge of orgasm, and then finished me off with his awesomely skilled hand while demanding I put my own down his pants.

He was an all-around well-proportioned guy.

The memory had me shivering pleasantly as the cab pulled up to the hotel porte cochere. Paying the driver, I hopped out with a bit of a spring in my step.

What did it matter if Ollie had hot women lined up to have a chance with him?

He’d dry-humped
me
last night, slept in
my
bed, and called me his Xanthe Love. Right now, life couldn’t be better.

Up in my room, I found the green dress in its plastic covering lying across my bed. After hanging it in the closet, I went about getting a little comfortable before calling Ollie.

“Hey,” he said by way of answering. “You’re back?”

“Yep.”

“I’ll be right down,” he said before hanging up.

Well, all right then.

No joke, the man was knocking on my door less than five minutes later. Smiling like the dork I was, I opened the door and was swept into his arms.

“Damn, Ollie—”

And that was all I said because I suddenly found myself a very willing participant of yet another make-out session with the darling photographer of Amsterdam.