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Charlie went still. “What are you trying to do to me right now?”

“Motivate you.”

“I’ve never wanted to write three hundred words so badly in my life.” She went back to her laptop and, just a few minutes later, shut it abruptly.

“Shall we start the clock?” Taryn asked from her spot on the couch. Charlie didn’t answer. Instead she walked straight to Taryn, removed the laptop from her lap, and crawled into it instead, straddling Taryn. Her hair had all been shifted to one shoulder, leaving the column of her neck exposed on one side. Without a word, she caught Taryn’s mouth with hers and kissed her deeply. Her hands were immediately at Charlie’s waist and then around it, pulling her closer. They’d surely already lost a minute or two. With her tongue in Charlie’s mouth as Charlie cupped her face, Taryn slipped her hands beneath Charlie’s sweater to find, to her delight, that she wasn’t wearing a bra. “God, I love these,” Taryn said against her mouth. She palmed both breasts to a murmur of pleasure from the gorgeous woman in her lap. “I have to see you,” Taryn said, pulling her lips back and offering a wicked grin. Charlie sat back with a smile as Taryn lifted her sweater to reveal her round, perfect breasts. Wordlessly she pulled a nipple into her mouth and let her teeth skate its ridges. Charlie’s fingers went into her hair and gripped, holding her in place.

“If anyone can make me come from this alone, it’s you. Good fucking God.”

The next thing Taryn knew she was flat on her back on that couch, topped by Charlie, who kissed her like an expert offering a master class. She placed Taryn’s hands above her head and held them there as she kissed her lips, her neck, her collarbone just in time for the alarm she’d set on her phone to sound its garish, unfair signal.

“Ignore it. It’s awful,” Taryn said.

Charlie nodded and tugged on the strap of Taryn’s sports bra. Guilt began to infuse her senses. She wanted to shove it away but knew full well it was Charlie who would pay tomorrow if they got carried away.

“We have to stop.”

Charlie popped her head up, a strand of hair in her face. She blew it away. “Do we, though?”

“Yes. You have an essay thingy to write.” She hated herself for applying logic.

“A short story.”

“Or that. My brain isn’t working because your body’s on mine and we are fire and gasoline.”

Charlie began to kiss her neck, ignoring the suggestion. “You’re definitely fire. God, I could devour you right now. Why are you so hot, Taryn? You have to stop being this way.”

“Charlotte Adler.”

“Okay, that just makes me hotter for you.” More kissing of her neck. The weight of Charlie’s body on hers was heavenly. She soaked up the moment, knowing it would be over shortly. That is, until Charlie wrote another damn thousand words. “We don’t have to stop. We just have to pause until you hit your next goal.”

Charlie sighed, paused, and buried her face against Taryn’s neck. “I guess that’s something.”

“Go, go, go. Write fast. Give it everything you have and then get your ass back over here.”

Charlie laughed. “I suddenly have a cheerleader in my corner.” She pushed herself off Taryn into a seated position.

“You write a thousand words, and I’ll be anything you want me to be.” She stole a kiss and lingered, the payoff too good.

“Ms. Ross, I think you have yourself a deal, and I have my motivation.”

The night continued much that way. The ticktack of the keyboard followed by a torturous groping session on the couch that never quite took them to home plate. They needed more time. Taryn’s hands and mouth needed space to work. She wanted to touch and be touched, and she wanted it soon.

“How many more words?” Taryn asked, as Charlie stood and adjusted her pants that were now askew thanks to Taryn, a badge she wore proudly.

“A thousand or so,” she said, recapturing air. “The last thousand. They are going to be either amazing because you are ridiculously inspiring, or half-assed because I want to get back to the ridiculously inspiring girl on my couch with the body I’m addicted to. What have you done to me?”

Taryn grinned. “I can do more. I want to. I’m thinking with my mouth. Perhaps over—”

“No more of that,” Charlie said, hand outstretched. “Do you want me to be able to think straight or not?” She pulled her hand back.

“Tough, tough question. Does your story really need an ending?”

“Do you want the woman to find out that the child she once adopted was the one who tried to kill her or not?”

“I mean, that’s a hard one.” She reluctantly gave in. “I guess she should probably know, but it feels rather secondary to the really good thing we have going over here, if I’m being honest. I want your weight on me. I want to kiss you.”

“Not another word.” Charlie returned to her laptop at the table across the room. A moment later, she peeked around the screen. “Are you as incredibly turned-on as I am right now?”