The Muse (19 page)

Kate startled them both by knocking Erato’s hand away. “No!”

Erato blinked. “Really?” She lowered her gaze and stared at the crotch of Kate’s light cotton pants, which were so wet she could
feel
the size of the stain without looking. “As you said, you’ve been suffering. You’re frustrated.”

All true, but Kate had jumped into this love scene in a distinct frame of mind, and she owed it to herself to maintain that same mental state through to the finish. The scene wouldn’t be as strong if she didn’t. Besides…for some inexplicable reason, Kate didn’t feel
ready
to come yet. Even after all her bitching and wishing for release, now that it was being offered, her pride refused to accept the idea of premature surrender.

“I can wait. Like you said, it’s only eight hundred and fifty more words.” Kate offered the bravest smile she could muster, which quickly faltered when she reflected on the fact that she was actually refusing sex. After wanting nothing
but
sex for days.

Granted, this wasn’t exactly the way she’d pictured the big reward…

Erato pinned her with a playful, knowing smile. “All right. How about I give you back your phone so you can start making plans for your date instead? Would that adequately express my pleasure with your performance?”

Kate tried not to betray just how excited—and, frankly, distracted—the suggestion made her feel. “Yes, please.”

She mentally composed and discarded at least ten different opening lines as she waited for Erato to return with her phone. She told herself that not much time had passed, and that she and Olive likely wouldn’t have seen each other before the upcoming weekend even if she hadn’t been chasing a word-count goal. That didn’t erase her worries that her window of opportunity for pursuing the sexy, mysterious Ms. Olive had already slipped away due to the shenanigans her muse had imposed on her life.

Still: sixteen thousand words in less than four full days. It was among her personal best, if not
the
best, of the runs she’d ever had. And what she’d produced was definitely good. So maybe it was a fair trade-off: one shot at a potentially special romance in exchange for the unequivocal return of her writing mojo. Even if Olive had moved on, the effort of the past few days hadn’t been for nothing.

When Erato walked back into the office with her cell phone in hand, Kate beckoned her over. She pulled Erato down to sit on her lap, wrapping her in a loose embrace. “Seriously, thank you. I’m approaching the halfway point on a book I’m not sure I ever honestly believed I’d finish. That is one hundred percent a result of your presence in my life, and I know that.” Erato opened her mouth to protest, but Kate shook her head firmly. “Save it. Yes, my progress has also depended on my own efforts, but let’s be honest…if not for you, I’d probably be watching Internet cat videos on a permanent loop right now. I may not always agree with your methods, but I can’t argue with the results.”

Erato melted into her arms. “I appreciate that
so
much. You have no idea.”

Warmed by the obvious pleasure Erato took from her gratitude, Kate eyed the phone finally within her grasp with an unexpected degree of wariness. Erato had been right about so many things already. Was she also right that inviting Olive back into her life posed a danger to her productivity? It was entirely plausible. It had been a long time since she’d had a new relationship, but she remembered how all-consuming one could be. Even if Olive had understood about the thirteen thousand words she’d just written, would she be able to accept Kate’s need for hours of total solitude over the upcoming month? And beyond?

In that respect, Erato was likely as perfect a mate as she would ever find. For her, the art always came first. Before her own needs, sometimes even before Kate’s. If all Kate really craved was uncomplicated, guilt-free companionship, it really couldn’t get much better than her sweet muse. She shifted her gaze from the phone to Erato’s face, trying to decide how badly she would regret an impulsive decision to delete Olive’s number from her phone and dive back into her writing full-force.

Erato tilted her head. “Really?” she asked, clearly surprised by her hesitation. “Darling, as long as you keep things casual, I have no problem letting you play with Olive again. It’s what you wanted, what’s been driving you. The whole point of the past few days has been to prove that you can handle the occasional diversion, no?”

“Yes.” Unsure she wanted to admit the nature of her second thoughts—just in case she was about to change to a different perspective—Kate shrugged. “I just…” After days of forcing her mind away from memories of Olive, she made herself go there again. She pictured Olive’s radiant smile, her brown eyes and smooth, delicious skin, that terrifying scar on her chest. The way she’d overcome her obvious shyness and nerves to throw herself into a night of adventurous sex with two complete strangers. How happy she’d been to see her again at the farmers’ market and to discover that her crush was reciprocated.

Shit. She
totally
wanted to see Olive again. But if she chose to go there, how could she trust herself to stay on track?

The answer seemed obvious. Putting her hand on the cell phone without taking it from Erato’s grasp, she stared into her muse’s face so she would understand just how sincere she was in what she was about to say. “Swear to me that you’ll keep me focused on the art. Whatever happens over the next month, however I might feel in moments of extreme pressure or punishment…even if I call your methods into question or beg you to leave me alone…promise you won’t. Stay here with me until this book is done.
Force me
to see it through.” She considered how embarrassing it would be to miss her deadline after having been granted more than one extension. Then to crawl back to her menial office job in defeat.
No
. Erato had to keep her honest. “Please.”

Erato handed her the phone before taking her by the shoulders to give her a firm squeeze. “I give you my word, Kate. I won’t let you sabotage this book. I’ll make sure you finish on time, no matter what.”

Equally reassured and frightened by Erato’s solemnity, Kate took a deep breath and unlocked her phone. An entire battalion of butterflies wreaked havoc within her stomach, alerting her to the sad fact that most of her second-guessing about going ahead with this date was probably directly linked to a fear of rejection. Or worse, silence.

“Either you text her or I will.” When Kate reacted to the threat with obvious surprise, Erato rewarded her with a peal of delighted laughter. “You think you’re unsure, but you’re not. Believe me, you want this. You want
her
. Enough that not having her again will most definitely be a real problem for you. The ultimate distraction. Trust me.” She wrapped an arm around Kate’s shoulders and pecked her on the cheek. “If you’re worried about the art, don’t be. I won’t allow Olive to throw you off course. I gave you my word, and I
never
break a promise.”

Kate shivered at the slightly ominous undertone in Erato’s sunny words. “I’m not worried.”

“Good.” Erato held out her hand and wiggled her fingers. “Now who’s going to make this date, me or you?”

Shielding the phone from Erato, Kate felt a surge of protectiveness. She would not allow her muse to interfere with whatever was happening between her and Olive. Even if they were just fuck buddies, she liked the something very real between her and Olive and selfishly wanted to keep whatever it was all to herself. “I’ll do it.”

“Would you like some privacy?”

They had no secrets—and shouldn’t have, if her art was the priority. Kate shook her head. “No, that’s not necessary.” She opened her phone’s messaging app, fighting mild disappointment at the discovery that her conversation with Olive was in exactly the same state as four nights ago. Her final request:
Wait for me?
Olive’s response:
Go! Write!
A quick scan of their back-and-forth reminded Kate of all the excitement of their chance meeting at the farmers’ market, which led to memories of the mind-blowing sex they’d had. Suddenly, the eagerness Kate had felt days ago returned.
This
is
what I want. Erato even said so.

Erato turned her head to study the office window and the massive redwood trees looming in the distance. “Go ahead. Get the ball rolling so you can wrap up those final eight hundred and fifty words and take a well-deserved break.”

Now that her writer’s block had been vanquished, it didn’t take Kate long to craft a brief missive to Olive—one that sounded more confident than she felt and would hopefully lead to enough erotic inspiration to carry her through the rest of her novel.

Still waiting for me?

She got her answer in under a minute.

Yes, but please tell me the wait is over.

Kate grinned.

It was a lucky thing Olive happened to be free for dinner and an extended round of dessert the very next evening after Kate met her goal. Once they agreed that the festivities would begin at seven, and Kate hinted that Olive should bring an overnight bag, a very curious thing had happened. Kate decided to keep waiting. She didn’t want to orgasm until Olive was there with her—if not to actually do the deed, then at least to hold her hand while Erato finally ended her suffering. Since her desire to be with Olive had driven her recent massive writing effort, it only seemed right to wait until they were together to enjoy the other part of her reward.

With a strength of will that had clearly surprised both of them, she’d urged Erato out of her office so she could finish the final words toward her goal, and then she’d continued to write for the rest of the day. By the time she finally stopped at eight o’clock that night, she’d had just enough energy to eat dinner and enjoy a sweet but platonic cuddling session with Erato before dropping off to sleep.

She woke early the next morning energized and so painfully horny it took every ounce of her dwindling willpower not to reach for Erato, who slept peacefully a scant distance away. Instead, Kate rolled onto her side and brought her knees up to her chest, sending her mind far away from thoughts of soft, feminine curves and the hot, wet suction Erato’s perfectly shaped mouth could deliver. With massive effort, she forced herself to return to her mental theater so she could listen to Rose and Molly talk about why they really, seriously, truly needed to stop sleeping together.

She’d been living deep in her characters’ world ever since Erato had shown up and forced her to finally spend time there, and at long last, it was becoming much easier to hear their voices and understand their motivations. Now she was fully invested in their lives—yearning for Rose to reconnect with a mother who’d never been comfortable with her bisexuality, desperate for both women to find their happily-ever-afters together following a string of bad relationships in their pasts—and she couldn’t wait to bring their story to a satisfying conclusion. She still had a ways to go, but at least the end was in sight. And most importantly,
she cared
.

Aware that she had hours to kill before Olive arrived for dinner, Kate decided to get up and write some more. It was the perfect activity to keep her mind off sneaking in a quickie with Erato. Thankfully, she’d gotten past the raunchy scenes of the prior day and now had to tackle the more delicate work of mending Rose’s relationship with her mother while giving Molly an integral, positive role in the proceedings. As an author, she had quite a challenge, but now it hardly felt like work. It never did, when she was in the zone.

After a long day of progress, she finally stopped writing a little over an hour before Olive was due to arrive. That allowed her just enough time to shower, shave, and throw on the pair of jeans that made her ass look sexy even to her own eyes, along with her favorite V-necked top that revealed a strategic amount of cleavage. When she finally made it to the kitchen only two minutes before Olive was due to arrive, she was stunned to find Erato putting the finishing touches on the most delectable Greek feast she’d ever seen. She’d barely registered that Erato was cooking, let alone pulling off a spread that outshone the finest gourmet restaurant. To top it off, Erato wore a stunning light-blue dress Kate had never seen before. The flowing material matched her eyes and made her look so ethereal Kate was almost nervous to speak to her, just as she’d been the first day they’d met. Never mind that they’d fucked multiple times in all manner of positions. Once again, her muse was the popular girl and she was the shy geek.

Erato turned and flashed her a smile of such luminous happiness that it effortlessly elicited a matching one from Kate. “Welcome back.” When Kate cocked her head in question, she giggled. “To this world.”

“Oh.” She shrugged, then nodded. Indeed, after days hunched over her keyboard living and breathing her characters’ lives, she hadn’t yet shaken the odd, vaguely unpleasant sensation of being firmly back in her own skin. “Yes, thank you. I’m still adjusting.”

“Not everyone has the opportunity to enjoy the mild dysphoria of being able to move between different worlds at will.” Turning off the burner where a delicious-smelling lentil soup simmered, Erato gave her a wink and wandered out of the kitchen. “Too many people lose the ability to immerse themselves in non-physical worlds once they leave childhood. Relish that you can and do, even when it’s not a hundred percent pleasant.”

Kate followed Erato into the hallway. “I do.” Truthfully, writing was often unpleasant. Publishing only added another layer of potential unpleasantness to the equation. If she didn’t delight in the entire process on some fundamental, soul-deep level, she wouldn’t bother. It would certainly leave her more time to date—or do hundreds of other things that would lead to a more active social life. No doubt more money, too. “I love writing. It makes me who I am, literally. That’s why when I can’t—” Her throat went dry as familiar anxiety enveloped her. When she couldn’t write, she felt worthless. Empty.

Erato abruptly stopped not far from the front door. She pivoted on her heels and rushed over to wrap Kate in a warm hug, stroking her back in a soothing rhythm. “Don’t go back to that dark place. Hear me? You’re not there anymore. I pulled you out. Now you’re a traveler just returned from a long journey, ready for the girl of your dreams to give you a proper homecoming.”