The scene I reached last time was a spicy scene near the c****x of the book, where the heroine, who is desperate for the hero’s touch, finally admits to him that she’s ready. That she’s desperate for him. I knew I had to stop here or I wouldn’t be ableto get to sleep, but as I delve in, suddenly the heroine is no longer who I am picturing in my mind.
It’s me.
And the hero is Rhett, looming over me, his jaw sharp, his cheekbones chiseled, his voice gravelly and strong.“If I teach you, it won’t be like my tennis lessons. I won’t be able to take things slow with you. There won’t be any beginner lessons. We’ll jump right into the advanced classes.”
I close my eyes and let his words sink into me.
“You’re mine,”he growled, slamming the door behind him as he walked toward her, his eyes flamin
