Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 20595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 103(@200wpm)___ 82(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 103(@200wpm)___ 82(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
We both work in silence, listening to each other breathe. It’s my favorite part of the day. Just being with her, even though it’s not physical. Yet. I can’t help thinking about what it will be like when I finally get the chance to worship her. I haven’t been with another woman in several years, and certainly not since I heard her voice. She’s all I can think about these days. I’m not even taking on other client's projects right now, so I am a thousand percent sure that I am available for her. Once she’s mine, I’ll be able to relax and get back to business as usual, but until then, it’s all Cheryl, all the time.
I listen intently to her talking, just like I always do. After we initially met, I spent two full days reading her Adventures of Beau series as a way to get to know her and her writing style. While I usually read James Patterson and Stephen King, I loved it. She sucked me in from the first sentence, and that’s pretty hard to do. From what she’s said, Stupid Cupid is going to be downright wild compared to the tame love of her young adult novels. Still not erotica, but not chaste either. I’m getting turned on just thinking about her writing naughty words. How fucked up is it that I want to teach her those naughty words before she writes them? Because I know she doesn’t know that. I want to teach her everything. She just looks like innocence incarnate. She’s sugar sweet and everything nice. She’s everything that I ever wanted in a woman. She everything I ever wanted in my wife.
“So, what do you think?” she asks, wringing her hands together in front of her.
“It sounds great, Cheryl. It’ll be a bestseller. I know it.
“Thanks, but the cover is still alluding me. Do you have any ideas?” she asks, and immediately an idea forms in my mind. I can see the cover, plain as day in my head. That’s how it works for me. I get intense visions of the work I create before I create them. It’s like a superpower, but it only pertains to graphic design, unfortunately.
“I do. Just one.”
“Oh, goodie,” she says, bouncing in her seat and clapping her hands together lightly. Fuck, her perfect tits bounce under the pink sweater she’s wearing today, and my cock bounces against my thigh right along with her. “Tell me, please.”
How can I refuse such a sweet plea? How can I refuse anything she asks of me?
“Of course, doll. I am picturing a pale pink background, not unlike the sweater you’re wearing. A woman in the forefront, in a tight red dress, is blowing a kiss toward a man in a tuxedo who is staring at the woman like she hangs the moon. Stupid Cupid in a bubbly font, bold, and white. A bow and arrow symbol is in the top left-hand corner. Your name in hot pink down at the bottom.”
“Wow. All that?” she asks, looking struck. “I’ve been wracking my brains for months. How did you come up with that so fast?”
“It’s a scene from the book that you sort of described; I added the blowing of the kiss, but the dress and tux are from the proposal flash mob you mentioned. It’s very Pretty Woman, but less prostitution.”
“No prostitution,” she says, smiling, but I can tell she’s embarrassed because her face lights up bright red. Her neck flushes too, but not as brightly. I can’t help but wonder if her tits are blushing too. Imagining that is getting me nowhere fast. My cock is hard in my jeans, just imagining her naked, writhing underneath me while I make her come.
“So what do think?” I ask, needing her approval more so than another client that I have. I know it’s because Cheryl Monreau Bow is no mere client. She’s my whole world.
After lunch, I reluctantly watch her leave before I get back into my truck and head home to begin working on her cover. The best thing about a new project is the beginning. I can see it clearly in my head. I’m excited to get started on it and get mockups sent over to Cheryl for her opinion, but I know my girl. She’s going to love it.
I spend several hours on the mockup, making sure it’s perfect before I send it over to her. I found a photo of a couple that look remarkably like the two of us. I am hoping it sends a subliminal message to Cheryl that we are meant to be together. Now there is nothing to do but wait for her to reply.
Good thing I am a patient man, but even my patience is wearing thin when it comes to her.
CHAPTER 5