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ago I had been seriously considering letting him touch me where my bathing suite touched me. A moment after that, I’d been contemplating an invitation to a party where he’d be having sex with other girls.
    This had been a fun stop in dreamland, but it was time to get back to the real world where heroes sought out their fated mates, fell in love at first sight, and made grand overtures in their apologies for a big misunderstanding.
    I gathered my things. “I should go.”
    “But we weren’t finished.”
    I stopped and looked at him. He was pouting again, complete with the puppy dog eyes. But I saw it. There was the devilish curl to his lip that told me he wanted to make mischief.
    “Why didn’t you invite me to your party?” I asked.
    It wasn’t what I had planned to say, but those were the words that wanted to come out. That often happened when I was writing. I’d plot the story, but sometimes the characters hijacked it and took me where they needed to go instead of where I thought was best.
    Christopher tilted his head back and peered up at me. “You mean, the party where I’m going to fuck those two girls? It’s not your scene, MK. You’re not the type of girl to be fucked with. You’re a princess looking for a fairytale. I’m not a prince. Neither is Eagle or any of my brothers.”
    Again, was that disappointment I heard in his voice? Or was it my imagination? Normally, at this point in my books the hero tells the heroine all the reasons they can’t be together. But over the course of the story, they both grow and change. Is that what was happening now? Was Christopher listing all the ways that he would change? As the pages turned, would we find our way to a happily-ever-after?
    “But I do want to give you an orgasm,” he said.
    I heard the pages crumbling in my head and falling onto the floor with a loud thunk.
    “I want to hear what you have to say about it. I like listening to you describe things.”
    His eyes sparkled, an angel asking for my soul, and I swear to God, that was the moment I lost my heart to the man I knew I would spend the rest of my life with.

Chapter Six

    We waited for the last of the Orgasmic Meditation group to file out of the room. Everyone looked peaceful and sedate as they waved to Holly. The golden bell jingled merrily as they left the store.
    My grandmother once told me that every time a bell rang, it meant an angel got its wings. Maybe there was an angel presiding over orgasms. If so, was a bell about to toll for me?
    I didn’t write about orgasms in my books. My characters never got that far. I wrote about soul-piercing gazes, light touches that arrowed to the heart, and kisses that spoke of forever. And I hadn’t experienced a single one of those either.
    I had had men’s eyes on me. I had an ample bosom, so of course they looked. I had men paw at me, wanted and unwanted. I’d had my fair share of kisses, too. But none had ever pierced an arrow aimed at forever like the light hold of Christopher’s hand holding mine.
     I walked into the room behind Christopher. He shut the door but didn’t lock it.
    “You can say ‘no’ or ‘stop’ at any time, and I will,” he said.
    His voice startled me. My fogged brain reached to understand his words. His blue eyes held mine. There was no mischief. His gaze was clear, sober, assessing.
    “The boss doesn’t tolerate anything resembling non-consent. Plus, I would never do anything you don’t wish. Are we clear? Do I have your trust, MK? Do I have your consent?”
    I nodded hypnotized by his words. He walked over to the far wall and pulled down the blinds. I watched his hands twist the long, plastic stick that turned the blinds to closed, shutting out the bright sunlight of the heavens and casting us down into a muted orange darkness.
    “And I have your word that you’ll tell me to stop if you’re uncomfortable?” He paced towards me, slowly like a predator stalking its prey. “Let me hear you say it,