CHAPTER FORTY-NINE –
Megan’s POV
After Chris left me amazed, I grabbed Smoky and headed home.
Smoky purred contentedly in my arms as I stepped off the elevator into the plush penthouse foyer.
Coming home always felt like entering a luxurious sanctuary after a hectic day.
“Welcome to your new kingdom, pretty girl,” I murmured, nuzzling Smoky’s silky head.
She squirmed eagerly, tiny paws batting at a dangling potted ivy as we passed.
Chuckling, I set her down and watched the fluffy kitten immediately scamper off to explore her new territory with typical feline enthusiasm.
My lips curved in a fond smile seeing her pounce and roll across the thick ivory rug happily.
With Smoky properly distracted, I moved towards the built-in shelves housing my collection of boxing memorabilia and personal mementos.
Sobering slightly, I studied the framed photos and well-worn gloves displayed like treasured artifacts from another lifetime.
The elderly clerk’s advice from earlier today whispered through my thoughts once more about seizing life by the reins rather than letting it pass you by.
On an impulse, I began carefully rearranging some pieces – creating open spaces for fresh photos or memories to eventually occupy alongside the nostalgic relics of my fighting career’s glory days.
A buzzing from my back pocket made me straighten with a start. Fumbling the phone out, I answered without checking the caller ID first.
“Hey, you’ll never guess who I-”
“Not done drooling over those trashy books yet, are we?” Lilly’s familiar lilt cut me off teasingly. “Although I guess if you behave yourself, your favorite ghostwriter might just agree to act some scenes out with you later…”
I immediately flushed despite being alone, clearing my throat uncomfortably. “Actually, uh… no word yet from Chris on the draft, if that’s what you’re hinting at.”
Wait! What? Did you know he’ll come to THAT store?” I shouted making Smokey jumped.
“Uh huh, weeeeell, ya see,” she drawled skeptically.
“I have eyes everywhere! But based on the cryptic little cashier’s comments while I picked up my well-earned smutty contraband, my studious BFF seems to have crossed paths with a certain brooding artist type in the process.”
Well, shit. Of course, Lilly is behind it all.
All the act of grabbing her a book was for me and Chris to meet again!
It’s no f*cking coincidence!
“Well, I hate to break it to you but we just… bumped into each other while running some errands, that’s all,” I mumbled, rolling my eyes despite the creeping sense of heat spreading across my face. “But we had an interesting discussion.”
Lilly made a noise of polite disbelief. “About revising sentence structure and tightening transitions, I’m sure.”
Ignoring her jibe, I pressed on hastily. “He brought up an intriguing point, actually – that there may be more nuanced social commentary and feminine empowerment woven into Kemple’s writing than the books’ obviously… erotic content would suggest.”
A few seconds of weighted silence greeted my admission. Then-
“Waaaait, hold up,” Lilly’s tone had shifted to one of pure amazement. “Are you telling me he’s read those books himself? And tried psychoanalyzing their literary merit to boot?”
I fidgeted uncomfortably, unsure how to respond.
Chris defending the controversial themes examined through Kemple’s erotic medium to such lascivious depths had been… surprising, to say the least.
Just remembering the impassioned glint smoldering in those hazel depths as he intellectualized about feminine sexuality and empowerment had me shifting restlessly where I stood.
“I-I’m not entirely certain,” I hedged, recalling my own stupefied reaction back at the bookstore.
“He mentioned that the books were considered revolutionary in certain circles for their… frank depictions of female desire and ecstasy.”
Lilly’s throaty peal of laughter echoed down the line, prompting Smoky’s furry head to pop up inquisitively towards the sound.
“Stop, just hearing your pristine literary darling bandying those euphemisms around is too much!” she crowed in delight.
“I can’t decide what’s more delicious – that crisp voice earnestly dropping words like ‘feminine ecstasy’ or the thought of him studiously bent over analyzing the nuanced themes during all those throbbing phallus and bodice-ripping interludes.”
I pursed my lips in growing consternation. “If you’re quite finished mocking -”
“No, no, you misunderstand!” Lilly protested through her giggles. “I’m merely picturing the delightfully tortured look of perfect scholarly concentration scrunching those sumptuous features while he plays at being a literary scholar fluent in highly… specialized material.”
Her salacious tone implied far more than mere bookish curiosity fueling Chris’s sudden interest in Kemple’s oeuvre.
I felt an unexpected prick of defensiveness bloom within on his behalf for reasons I couldn’t fully articulate.
“He’s a naturally gifted writer, Lil,” I stated, a touch more curtly than intended. “Of course, he’d examine the thematic components and literary merit behind even the most… unorthodox subject matter.”
The bed creaked in unmistakable suggestion through her end of the line.
“Uh huh, I bet that big talented brain of his riiiight now is fixating hard on probing every last euphemistic innuendo and heaving metaphor with his typical brooding intensity -”
“Lilly!” I cut her off abruptly, pulse thrumming strangely in my ears. “Must you interpret everything through such a distasteful, one-track filter?”
She made a playful noise of contrition, clearly undeterred by my rebuking tone. “Forgive me, you’re right. How uncivilized of me to assume your precious literary paramour doesn’t have a far loftier motive for devouring those earthy masterpieces beyond mere masturbatorial aids.”
“He’s most assuredly pondering the more oblique shades of repressed feminine sensuality and systemic patriarchal limitations… amongst other dense metaphysical quandaries few souls could properly grasp.”
I ground my teeth, feeling an undeniable surge of heat creep up my neck at her continued innuendos about Chris delving into the subversive themes of Kemple’s gritty erotic romps.
Because I’d detected that same scorching spark behind those carved masculine features firsthand as he’d expounded on the genre with such unexpected passion.
And for some unsettling reason, the thought of anyone else inflaming that provocative, vaguely sensual undercurrent- even just through Lilly’s lurid extrapolations-caused an unexpected clawing sensation low in my abdomen.
“At any rate,” I cut in sharply before her musings could spark another tailspin of prurient ramblings, “I have a few things to see to before my next sparring session, so I should really -”
“Wait just a sec!” Lilly interjected gleefully, apparently reading into the ruffled tones underlying my flimsy excuse.
“I’m not done teasing the particulars out of this gloriously titillating nugget yet! Like how your mysterious new fur baby fits into this whole ‘training your ghostwriter in the language of unbridled sensuality’ scenario you’ve evidently orchestrated…”
I felt my shoulders slump in resignation, knowing she’d only pester me relentlessly now that more wayward trails had opened in her scheming imagination.
Lilly had that distinctive whiff of a fresh scandal sweeping through the rumor mills – except this one appeared tailor-made for her own inexhaustible entertainment.
Unfortunately for me.
“Smoky is just a kitten I adopted today,” I corrected with a weary sigh, already anticipating the litany of smutty rejoinders awaiting, “nothing more, nothing less.”
“Smoky, you say?” Lilly positively purred back at me, no doubt proverbial gears already whirring overtime.
“How deliciously apropos and dripping with sultry symbolism if she were the helpless ingenue swept into ‘forbidden dalliances’ with your dashing young ghostwriter when he comes padding into witness…”
I cradled the receiver away, massaging my temples to stave off the impending headache accompanying her unwavering libido.
“Oh, sweet Lord, give me patience…”