Witchhazel

[ Warning: Mature Content ]
“Harper, stop undressing me with your eyes. The plot isn’t going that way… YET.”

Harper McKenzie, a newbie web novel author, has a problem — she struggles with romance scenes. As someone with almost nonexistent real-life experience in the matter, she can’t get the intimate chemistry right, and those chapters always come out dry and cringy.

Fortunately for her, Harper finds a freelance editor willing to workshop her writing. But the surprise? That editor turns out to be her childhood friend and the very first crush of her life.

What happens now when he offers her personal lessons on how to write the hottest romance … and love scenes?

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Note: this is a fun, cozy, sweet story with a low-drama plot. No love triangles, no misunderstandings, no memory loss / car accidents / terminal illnesses / etc.. Mature content abounds, starting out soft but heats up quickly. You’ve been warned!

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Sneak Peek:

He slid her bra over her shoulders and, with impossibly quick and skilled work, tied the lacy garment around her wrists. “Spread your legs wider,” he ordered.

Harper’s already faltering heartbeat faltered some more. The command in his tone was foreign, but it crashed over her like a heat wave, and even though she could barely begin to picture how salacious she must look, with her hands bound and thighs spread wide like an offering to be ravished, she could feel the scorching need coiling hotter and hotter in her core. Her body obeyed eagerly on its own accord, bringing herself fully open just like she was told.

Eli grinned. Moving between her legs, he trailed hot kisses along her inner thigh, leaving sizzling little fires crackling in its wake. “Good girl. Now, what should your character say next?” A finger glided over her wet and wanting flesh in a slippery stroke, making her heart slam to a hard stop as a moan tore free. “Write the next line for me, what should I say before I unravel you with my tongue and make you scream my name?”

His Naughty Lessons

They didn't talk again for the rest of the week after that brief call. Eli immediately started using the new codename for Harper's project — strictly for the private blocks on his calendar that were visible to only himself, of course — and every time the perfect title popped up on his screen, it would bring a smile to his face and remind him to check his phone, in the hopes that Harper would think of something else amazing to ask him or tease him with. Soon, the habit evolved into a constant expecting glance at the blank screen, in frequencies that increased steadily from a few times a day to a few times an hour.

A long four days passed in disappointment though, because of course, a watched phone doesn't buzz. It wasn't until he got back to his apartment on Friday evening that he saw a list of missed notifications:

[ Harper: Would you think I'm a chicken if I tell you I'm a bit scared about tmr? ]

Risqué Escapades