Page 40 of Only Lovers in the Building

“Want to know what I’m thinking?”

“No.”

Lily didn’t look up from her paperback. They were in the clubhouse, lounging shoulder to shoulder, finishing up Crushed Hearts , the following week’s selection by bestselling African American author Kenya Parker. It was the right mix of angst, passion,

and drama. She was loving it so far.

“I’ll show you, then,” Ben said.

He tugged at the high waist of her bikini bottom, edging it down. Lily screeched. “What are you doing?”

“It’s time you show me how hot intimacy can be.”

“Not here! They’ll see us!”

“There’s no one here,” he pointed out.

It was late in the evening on a Wednesday. After a swim, they’d stretched out in the pergola with their books. The sun had

set a while ago, and the pool deck was deserted. Even so, anyone could walk in on them at any time.

“We’re totally exposed,” Lily said.

“I’ll fix that.”

Ben rolled up to his feet. With a few tugs on strategically placed ties, the pergola’s heavy burlap drapes tumbled down. They were completely secluded in their cozy little clubhouse.

“It’s almost like you’ve done this before,” Lily said, secretly delighted. She switched off her reading light to not cast

any shadows.

“No, but I’ve been plotting it a while,” he said. “Now, may I?”

He was tugging at her bikini bottom again. This time, she didn’t have the will to refuse him. “Yes, you may.”

He dragged the bit of wet fabric down her legs and past her ankles in record speed. “That, too,” he said, referring to her

bikini top. With a few tugs at the ties, he had it off.

“What about you?” she asked, her breath sharp.

“Give me a minute. I’m busy.”

His hands skimmed her body, gliding over her damp skin, still pebbled in places with pool water. Lily propped herself up on

her elbows and watched him, coming undone under his gaze. A shiver of worry ran through her. Too much of a good thing was

a problem. Ben had put her on a pedestal. There would come a day when she’d have to step down. What then? Walk among the mortals?

How could she stand it?

Ben stood and stripped off his wet trunks, bundled them, and looked around for a place to toss them. His golden-brown skin

glistened. Could it be that he was unaware of his effect on her? Had she played it a little too cool? His lean, cut, and inked

body was the object of her every fantasy and slowly becoming an obsession.

“Ben?” she whispered.

“Yes, beautiful?”

“I touch myself while watching your lectures.”

He dropped to his knees between her legs. Eyes shining, he said, “Tell me you’re lying.”

“That would be a lie.”

He lowered his head and pressed his lips to her inner thigh. “Should we discuss Hemingway while we do this?”

“That won’t be necessary. I have that lecture cued up for later tonight.”

Ben playfully bit her. Laughing, he said, “All right, well... Show me what you do.”

“I can’t! It’s private.”

“Yes, you can.”

“I can’t.”

“Lily, give me your hand.”

“Ben, I would sooner die.”

“Look who’s prudish now.”

She was no prude, not in theory, anyway. Real life was a different matter. With Ben specifically, it was a challenge. Sex

wasn’t performance art with him. She was vulnerable and open, and that was scary.

“It’s not like that,” she said. “I have... an assistive device.”

“There are toys involved?”

“Just the one small vibrator!”

“We’ll have to do without it,” he said. “Give me your hand.”

It was written somewhere, maybe in the stars hidden in the partly cloudy sky, that Lily could not refuse Ben anything. She

reached out and touched his face. He kissed her palm then brought her fingertips to her center. “Lie back,” he said. “Now,

show me.”

With those words, he lit a fire in her. The smoke-induced delirium chased away any inhibition she harbored. Lily slid two

fingers over her tender nub and drew slow, languid circles, sending tremors down her legs. Eyes closed, she drew her stomach

muscles tight and focused on the ever-expanding whirlpool of sensation. Strong waves of pleasure washed over her and retreated,

leaving her breathless.

“Look at you, my sweet Lily,” he said. “Never hide from me again.”

Lily heard Ben’s voice in the distance. The waves had taken her far offshore.

She was lost to him until he edged her fingers away with his tongue.

Lightning struck. Her skin burned hot, the earlier swim only a memory.

She gasped when he cupped her bottom and drew her to him.

Her legs wrapped around him, undulating to match the strokes of his tongue.

Then his fingers were buried inside her.

His voice was in her ear, telling her how nothing was private between them, not anymore.

“Tell me you feel the same,” he said. She could not produce a sound.

Her breath was erratic. She bit back every sigh, every cry of anguish that crept up her throat.

Soon, her efforts were not enough. Waves of pleasure crashed over her.

Ben took her mouth and swallowed her cries.

Then he held her shivering body until it was all quiet at sea.

God only knew what time it was when they packed up their things to leave the clubhouse. “How do I look?” she asked.

“Like you’ve had good sex.”

“Ben!”

“It’s okay. There’s no one out there.”

“You never know!”

She peeked through the curtain enclosure. The pool deck was as still and calm as ever. Ben smoothed her hair and kissed her.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s go.”

They crossed the deck and called the elevator. Just when it arrived, his phone rang.

“Who’s calling me?” he muttered wearily. His messy brows shot up when he read the screen. “Hold on, Lily. I have to take this.

It’s my agent. She’s out in San Francisco. It’s still early there.”

The elevator came and went. Ben walked off to take the call.

Lily sat at the pool’s edge and dipped in her feet.

When he got off the phone, they’d head up to his place to order dinner, finish the novel, and write a review, as usual.

Thereafter, they’d shower, slip into his bed, and make love again well into the night.

Every day with Ben was a dream from which she never wanted to wake up. It only got better and better.

Ben paced the length of the pool, the phone pressed to his ear. At times he listened intently. Other times, he burst into

laughter. Now he was repeating, “Are you serious?” Finally, he exclaimed, “I fucking love this!” Turning to her, he said,

“Lily, Rebecca wants you on this call.”

Lily jumped. His agent wanted to speak with her? “Why me? What did I do?”

“You’ll find out.”

He sat next to her at the pool’s edge, a hand on the small of her back as if to brace her from sudden impact. He put the call

on speaker. “Rebecca, she’s here.”

A steady voice came over the phone’s speaker. “Hello, Lily. This is Rebecca Blackwell with Blackwell and Associates. I’ve

been Ben’s agent for a decade now. We handle everything from publishing to media.”

Rebecca had handled their podcast deal, but Lily hadn’t dealt with her personally. Ben had served as the intermediary. “It’s

nice to speak with you.”

“A New York editor reached out today. She’s with one of the Big Five publishing houses.”

Lily’s heart tanked. There was only one way this conversation could go. Ben had been made an offer, one that was too good

to pass up and which would require all his time and attention. Like Lily’s father, Rebecca was calling to get Ben to quit

reading smut, quit the silly podcast, and get back to work. She wouldn’t stand in his way to greatness. But what Rebecca said

next made no sense at all.

“He follows you on BookTap and loves your voice.”

Lily blinked, confused. Those BookTap posts certainly had a long reach.

“From there he moved on to the podcast, and he’s hooked.”

“Thanks. I’m flattered.”

“He believes you have something there.”

“Well, it’s a joy to do,” Lily said, still confused.

“He thinks you have the makings of a book, and he wants to make you an offer. He assumed I represent you both, but of course

I don’t. Maybe I ought to? What do you think?”

“A book?” Lily jerked and kicked up water. “I told Ben romance novels are my escape. I don’t want to write one.”

“We talked about this,” Ben said. “There are other options.”

“No one is asking you to be the next Nora Roberts,” Rebecca said. “What interests the editor are your thoughts on the subject.

The way you analyze how common romantic tropes often fizzle in real life.”

It was clear that she wouldn’t reveal the editor’s name, establishing herself as the go-between. Lily respected the strategy,

but moving forward she’d need more information.

“Ben could write the foreword, touching upon his experience working with you.”

“You’d do that?” Lily asked him.

“I’d do it for you,” he said.

That reassured her some, but not enough. What made them think she could write a whole book? A blog, maybe. This would require

a lot of reshuffling and delay her return to her legal career. She didn’t know how she felt about that. On the other hand,

one thing she’d learned this summer was not to turn down opportunities or talk herself out of anything.

“It’s settled,” Rebecca said. “Ben writes the foreword. Wrap it up in a bow and you’ve got a bestseller. We’d get you on the

morning talk shows, the late-night shows, and dozens of podcasts.”

Lily turned to Ben, certain that he’d have a better perspective on this. By the look on his face, his perspective was no different

from Rebecca’s. He beamed at her with pride.

“I can’t believe this,” Lily murmured.

“Believe it,” Rebecca said. “We’ve done more with less.”

Ben rubbed her back and mouthed Do it .

“If you want to entertain the offer or any other that will surely come your way, you should have an agent. If not me, someone

else.”

Lily had heard Ben say too many good things about his agent to pass on the offer of representation. Besides, Rebecca was the

only one with a vision for the project. If she was going to take the leap, she’d need someone competent to guide her.