CHAPTER FIFTY –
Megan’s POV
“… anyway, that’s my extremely edited version of events, you insatiable perv.”
I cradled the phone against my shoulder, stifling a yawn as Lilly’s titillated laughter trilled down the line once more.
“Oh Meggie, you do spoil me with such tantalizing glimpses into your budding romance, don’t you?”
Glancing at the time on the bookshelf’s antique mantle clock, I suppressed a groan of dismay – was it really nearing midnight already?
My agenda had been utterly derailed this evening courtesy of Lilly’s salacious interrogation over each innocuous tidbit gleaned from my earlier bookstore encounter with Chris.
“Lil, it’s getting late, and I have an early training session,” I attempted feebly, only to be promptly steamrolled.
“Don’t think I’ve missed how you’ve been sidestepping the most crucial detail, by the way!” She barreled ahead undeterred.
“This whole inscrutable literary savant persona Christian Grey-Lite has apparently been projecting behind closed doors…”
My eyes rolled heavenward as that discordant yet beguiling memory of Chris expounding so ardently on the erotic genre’s merits resurfaced against my will.
The spark of undisguised passion simmering through those striking features, the tangible aura of intellectual energy radiating from his lean frame as each nuanced argument spilled forth with gathering intensity-
An unexpected rustle in my peripheral vision made me start slightly. My unfocused gaze landed on the plump ball of silver fluff blinking up at me curiously from the hearthrug.
“Hi there, Smoky,” I murmured distractedly, Lilly’s grating voice fading into a dull prattle as I studied my new pet’s bright-eyed visage drinking me in from beneath my seated position on the sofa.
Without conscious thought, my free hand drifted down to tenderly stroke along the impossibly soft fur as new life seemed to buzz just beneath my fingertips.
Smoky responded instantly, a droning purr rumbling up from her tiny throat as she pushed eagerly into the caresses.
“We’ll make a good team, won’t we, precious?” I found myself crooning in a hushed undertone, inexplicably moved by the unconditional joy and affection radiating from every inch of the small creature cuddled against my thigh now.
“Just you and me against the world from here on out,” I whispered fervently in a rare unguarded moment of vulnerability, gazing deep into those impossibly guileless black pools gleaming back up at me.
My thumb gently stroked the velvet curve of an alert ear as an unnamable sense of disquietude began soothing inside my chest.
“I promise I’ll never abandon you like your previous owners did,” I vowed solemnly. “And in return, you’ll stay loyally by my side and never betray me, right?”
Lilly’s raucous bellowing abruptly reasserted itself through the receiver, startling me out of the private little trance that had momentarily unspooled.
“What utter drivel are you on about over there, you are delightfully dotty girl?” She crowed in delight, completely misreading my softened demeanor.
“Has Miss Williams stooped to rehearsing seduction pep talks with her feline companion now in hopes of landing her strapping young buck?”
My cheeks flushed hotly as I realized how thoroughly I must have tuned her out in favor of cooing sweet reassurances to the purring bundle in my lap.
“Don’t be absurd, Megan,” I snapped, grateful for her inability to witness my chagrinned reaction through the phone line. “I was merely conversing with Smoky, that’s all!”
“Oh, how perfectly twee!” Her voice dripped with wry amusement. “And here I was envisioning the far more salacious scenarios troubling your thoughts after whatshisface unearthed those repressed urges earlier today with his whole ‘scholarly discourse on feminine ecstasy’ charade…”
“We did not delve into anything even approaching that untoward!” I cut her off fiercely, my free hand reflexively cradling Smoky’s small body closer to my chest.
She merely chuckled in response, rich and knowing.
“Then you’ve clearly misinterpreted the dear thing’s wholesome intentions, I fear,” Lilly sighed dramatically.
“Because from my literary trainspotter’s perch, connecting on such an exalted cerebral plane appears to be foreplay in full swing for your enigmatic young ghostwriter.”
Once more, the memory of Chris’s intense stare and resonating timbre rising in fervent defense of feminine perspectives enshrined through erotic literature crashed over me unbidden.
The memory sparked an unexpected frisson low in my abdomen – one that spoke of anything but sanitized literary discourse.
I shifted uncomfortably on the plush cushions, Smoky blinking up at me in vague concern over the discord vibrating through my motionless form.
“You cannot sincerely believe…” I struggled, finding my throat unexpectedly dry, “that his manner of engagement was anything but an academic exploration and discussion befitting the subject matter.”
Attempting to regain my equilibrium, I drew in a steadying breath.
Stroking the ball of fluff against my sternum, I found my voice strengthening as reason began reasserting itself over whatever shadowy spell my memories of Chris had momentarily roused.
“Chris is nothing if not a consummate literary artist attuned to probing each substratum of artistic nuance to its marrow,” I declared with growing conviction, squaring my shoulders upright.
“His passion is clearly derived from rigorous interrogation of authorial intent and metacommentary embedded beneath the text’s surface-level… trappings or affectations.”
Lilly allowed a measured pause before responding, seeming to absorb the steely resolution undergirding my cadences.
At length, her mirthful tone returned – tempered but undefeated.
“Well, aren’t you an eloquent one after all?” She purred with tangible approval. “I do so enjoy sparking new heights of the lofty poetess to spill forth from those glossy lips every chance I get…”
I clenched my jaw reflexively at the seeping insinuation bleeding into her words again.
Smoky nuzzled my fingers questioningly, as if sensing the growing tension lancing through my previously tranquil countenance.
“If his eloquent skills manage to excavate more from those particular erotic crevices over time,” Lilly plowed ahead blithely, “who knows what lusty dimensions could eventually unfurl before your very eyes one breathless evening, hmm?”
I exhaled a shaky breath, struggling to maintain some semblance of grounding as Lilly’s thinly veiled innuendo began kinetically evoking sensual flashes of scenarios in which I found myself immersed with growing visceral intensity.
Images of unfurling from a coiled embrace with the very man in question.
Splayed across my unmade sheets with our labored respirations mingling indistinguishably as corded, tautly masculine limbs encircled me possessively…
“Lilly, I’m begging you-”
My choked utterance was apparently all the confirmation she required.
Her laughter thrummed exultantly down the line as I forcibly buried my traitorous imaginings under rigid willpower.
“Oh, you are precious, repressed creature!” She trilled joyfully. “Clearly your delusions of studied objectivity are just an elaborate courtship ritual towards your brooding young paramour after all…”
Gritting my teeth, I made one final beseeching appeal.
“Lillian, please. I’m not having this conversation with you anymore tonight, do you understand?”
She huffed out a noise of melodramatic capitulation. “Very well, very well. Stifle your feminine awakening back under that armored twinset before it can fully bloom for now. But trust me, darling – that banked fire inside will only demand oxygen soon enough…”
My lips thinned into a stubborn line, though I felt something imperceptible shift at her nebulous prediction.
“We shall simply have to see how events unfold on their own organic trajectory regardless of anyone’s urgings, shan’t we?” I answered stiffly – an automatic deflection powered more by muscle memory and rote self-preservation than any vehement rebuke.
Lilly seemed to pick up on this herself from my marked change in tone, responding with what passed for tender sympathy in her usual barbed manner.
“Indeed, we shall, my unspoiled lotus blossom,” she replied in a breathy affectation of warmth. “Though I must say, I for one simply cannot wait to bear witness when those first velvet petals finally unfurl at the passionate ministrations of whichever reckless gardener has tempted your yielding…”
I tuned out the rest of her flowery extrapolations – cheeks burning as Smoky looked on with typical feline dispassion.
Doubtless she would accuse me of willful naivete or laboring under delusions about my staunch professionalism with Chris.
Yet, if I’m being fully introspective…
Some seed of deeply repressed longing had sparked to life anew for the first time in countless moons over the progression of our working relationship.
An elemental swell of heightened awareness each time his resonant syllables and probing glances seemed to strike straight through my chest cavity to ignite primitive tremors from within.
And no amount of playful teasing or literary verbal sparring could excuse the undeniable portent of those stirrings beginning to echo primal battle hymns and lusty war drums through every thundering pore and firing synapse…
A precursor ionization peeling free of long banked layers now, as if sensing external catalytic forces lacing closer with each forbidden slipstream.
One fraught question alone remained – how much willpower could I have to ask him to be my fake boyfriend?