Ecstasy
Page 29
Her stomach heaved, but she swallowed the bile back into her throat and clasped her hands tightly in her lap, her spine as straight as rebar.
“Writing is a funny thing,” he began, as he looked out over the large, well-dressed crowd with a small smile. “We think that we can separate ourselves from the stories we weave, but no matter how much we lie to ourselves, there is always a piece of us in there. Some where, some way, we can never disguise what’s in our heart.”
“An hour ago Steve Holt handed me a copy of the winning manuscript. Truth is, folks, I couldn’t put it down. It was compelling. It was sensual. And most of all, it was honest.”
A tear slipped down Candace’s cheek. “Stop, Charlie. Please, stop.”
“It is with distinct pleasure that I award this year’s Erotic Writer’s award to Candace Whitman, for her erotic novel, Hell’s Angel, writing as Candy Lane.”
The applause was deafening as Candace unsteadily rose to her feet. Strangers reached out to shake her hand in congratulations. She smiled and murmured thanks, but she was held prisoner by the intensity of Charlie’s gaze.
I love you and I’m sorry, her heart cried out to him, but by the look in his eyes, she knew he was lost to her.
Wiping away the tear that had rolled down her cheek, she carefully climbed the small flight of stairs up to the podium where Charlie was standing.
“I’m sorry,” she mouthed to him, but he ignored her, his face devoid of all emotion.
Putting the check into her trembling hands, without touching her, he stepped back into the shadows. Fearing her knees were going to buckle beneath her, Candace clutched at the podium and held on for dear life.
Looking out at the rapt crowd who was waiting for her acceptance speech, she swallowed nervously.
“Hi,” she said softly into the microphone, surprised by the volume of her voice through the speakers.
“I, uh, want to thank the judges for...” She cut herself off, shaking her head, her face crumpling. “The truth is, I can’t accept this award. I’m sorry,” she cried as a sob escaped her.
She ran off of the stage and down through the tables and chairs in the banquet room. She continued to run through the lobby and out into the cool evening air, not stopping to breathe until she tripped in her high heels and landed hard against a street lamp.
Clutching the street lamp, she gasped for air, hating herself more and more with every passing second.
She felt a warm hand on the small of her back through her thin silk dress.
“It’s a wonderful book, Candy,” Charlie said as he gently rubbed her back.
She shook her head so hard, her gold clip fell out of her hair and clattered to the sidewalk. “No. It’s not. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand.
“Sweetheart,” he said, his voice tender, “I love you.”
She finally turned around to face him, anger mixing with her sorrow. “Is that what you told Sherryl Ann last year?”
“What does Sherryl Ann have to do with this?”
Candace crossed her cold hands across her chest and held onto her shoulders, rocking slightly back and forth as if to comfort herself.
“What kind of lessons did you set up for her? Were they hotter than ours?”
“God no! I edited a couple of her manuscripts and then passed her off to my agent.”
Candace knew the look of shock and disbelief on Charlie’s face was pure and she felt like an even bigger fool than before.
“I understand if you never want to see me again, Charlie,” she said, staring at the dirty sidewalk between them.
He slipped one of his fingers underneath her chin and forced her to look him in the eye.
“Candy, I won’t lie to you. This hurts like hell. I thought you knew you could tell me anything. Anything at all.”
“I do,” she protested, but he quieted her by pressing his thumb over her lips.
“The truth is I’ll love you until the day I die, no matter what. So if you think I’m going to let the content of one of your future best-selling novels get in the way of our future, you’re very much mistaken. It’s gonna take a whole lot more than a few hot love scenes to change the way I feel about you, sweetheart.”
New tears had formed in Candace’s eyes, but this time they were tears of joy. She launched herself onto him, wrapping her long legs around his waist and kissed him with all of the love in her heart.
“Oh baby,” she said when they stopped devouring each other’s lips for a moment, “I love you so much.”
Charlie just smiled and held her closer to him, heedless of the stares from the strangers as they walked by.
“Thank god,” he murmured as he bent his head and captured Candace’s lips in a kiss that went straight to her soul.
“Now, let’s get home so that I can punish you for your very bad behavior.”
* * *
And so it was that Charlie finally got to enact the scene he had been choreographing in his imagination since the day he first lay Candace naked upon the bed in his guest bedroom and tasted her sweet pu**y.
Charlie sat down on the edge of their bed, still wearing his tuxedo. “Come here,” he said.
Candace couldn’t hold back the smile on her lips as she walked towards him.
“What could you possibly be smiling about,” he said, trying and failing to hold back his own grin, “when you are about to get spanked until your ass is pink and stinging?”
Candace made a show of demurely lowering her eyes, before looking up at him through her long lashes. “I am a very bad girl, and I deserve to be punished.”
“Lie across my thighs,” he ordered.
“What about my clothes?” she asked him, gesturing to her ankle-length red silk dress.
“Leave your clothes to me. Now get over here.”
Hiding another smile, but unable to disguise the twinkle in her eyes, Candace draped her body, face down, across the tops of Charlie’s thighs.
Through the smooth, thin silk of her dress, he rubbed her round, firm ass.
“No panties?” he asked hoarsely.
In a subservient voice she said, “I wouldn’t dare wear panties. Not when you’re already about to discipline me.”
“Good girl,” he said, licking his lips.
Unexpectedly, he ripped the seam of Candace’s dress open from her ankle to her waist. She gasped and he said, “See how upset I am with you?”
She nodded and waited expectantly for his onslaught to begin. Already, her pu**y was moist and swollen, ready to be touched, sucked, and f**ked.
“Writing is a funny thing,” he began, as he looked out over the large, well-dressed crowd with a small smile. “We think that we can separate ourselves from the stories we weave, but no matter how much we lie to ourselves, there is always a piece of us in there. Some where, some way, we can never disguise what’s in our heart.”
“An hour ago Steve Holt handed me a copy of the winning manuscript. Truth is, folks, I couldn’t put it down. It was compelling. It was sensual. And most of all, it was honest.”
A tear slipped down Candace’s cheek. “Stop, Charlie. Please, stop.”
“It is with distinct pleasure that I award this year’s Erotic Writer’s award to Candace Whitman, for her erotic novel, Hell’s Angel, writing as Candy Lane.”
The applause was deafening as Candace unsteadily rose to her feet. Strangers reached out to shake her hand in congratulations. She smiled and murmured thanks, but she was held prisoner by the intensity of Charlie’s gaze.
I love you and I’m sorry, her heart cried out to him, but by the look in his eyes, she knew he was lost to her.
Wiping away the tear that had rolled down her cheek, she carefully climbed the small flight of stairs up to the podium where Charlie was standing.
“I’m sorry,” she mouthed to him, but he ignored her, his face devoid of all emotion.
Putting the check into her trembling hands, without touching her, he stepped back into the shadows. Fearing her knees were going to buckle beneath her, Candace clutched at the podium and held on for dear life.
Looking out at the rapt crowd who was waiting for her acceptance speech, she swallowed nervously.
“Hi,” she said softly into the microphone, surprised by the volume of her voice through the speakers.
“I, uh, want to thank the judges for...” She cut herself off, shaking her head, her face crumpling. “The truth is, I can’t accept this award. I’m sorry,” she cried as a sob escaped her.
She ran off of the stage and down through the tables and chairs in the banquet room. She continued to run through the lobby and out into the cool evening air, not stopping to breathe until she tripped in her high heels and landed hard against a street lamp.
Clutching the street lamp, she gasped for air, hating herself more and more with every passing second.
She felt a warm hand on the small of her back through her thin silk dress.
“It’s a wonderful book, Candy,” Charlie said as he gently rubbed her back.
She shook her head so hard, her gold clip fell out of her hair and clattered to the sidewalk. “No. It’s not. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand.
“Sweetheart,” he said, his voice tender, “I love you.”
She finally turned around to face him, anger mixing with her sorrow. “Is that what you told Sherryl Ann last year?”
“What does Sherryl Ann have to do with this?”
Candace crossed her cold hands across her chest and held onto her shoulders, rocking slightly back and forth as if to comfort herself.
“What kind of lessons did you set up for her? Were they hotter than ours?”
“God no! I edited a couple of her manuscripts and then passed her off to my agent.”
Candace knew the look of shock and disbelief on Charlie’s face was pure and she felt like an even bigger fool than before.
“I understand if you never want to see me again, Charlie,” she said, staring at the dirty sidewalk between them.
He slipped one of his fingers underneath her chin and forced her to look him in the eye.
“Candy, I won’t lie to you. This hurts like hell. I thought you knew you could tell me anything. Anything at all.”
“I do,” she protested, but he quieted her by pressing his thumb over her lips.
“The truth is I’ll love you until the day I die, no matter what. So if you think I’m going to let the content of one of your future best-selling novels get in the way of our future, you’re very much mistaken. It’s gonna take a whole lot more than a few hot love scenes to change the way I feel about you, sweetheart.”
New tears had formed in Candace’s eyes, but this time they were tears of joy. She launched herself onto him, wrapping her long legs around his waist and kissed him with all of the love in her heart.
“Oh baby,” she said when they stopped devouring each other’s lips for a moment, “I love you so much.”
Charlie just smiled and held her closer to him, heedless of the stares from the strangers as they walked by.
“Thank god,” he murmured as he bent his head and captured Candace’s lips in a kiss that went straight to her soul.
“Now, let’s get home so that I can punish you for your very bad behavior.”
* * *
And so it was that Charlie finally got to enact the scene he had been choreographing in his imagination since the day he first lay Candace naked upon the bed in his guest bedroom and tasted her sweet pu**y.
Charlie sat down on the edge of their bed, still wearing his tuxedo. “Come here,” he said.
Candace couldn’t hold back the smile on her lips as she walked towards him.
“What could you possibly be smiling about,” he said, trying and failing to hold back his own grin, “when you are about to get spanked until your ass is pink and stinging?”
Candace made a show of demurely lowering her eyes, before looking up at him through her long lashes. “I am a very bad girl, and I deserve to be punished.”
“Lie across my thighs,” he ordered.
“What about my clothes?” she asked him, gesturing to her ankle-length red silk dress.
“Leave your clothes to me. Now get over here.”
Hiding another smile, but unable to disguise the twinkle in her eyes, Candace draped her body, face down, across the tops of Charlie’s thighs.
Through the smooth, thin silk of her dress, he rubbed her round, firm ass.
“No panties?” he asked hoarsely.
In a subservient voice she said, “I wouldn’t dare wear panties. Not when you’re already about to discipline me.”
“Good girl,” he said, licking his lips.
Unexpectedly, he ripped the seam of Candace’s dress open from her ankle to her waist. She gasped and he said, “See how upset I am with you?”
She nodded and waited expectantly for his onslaught to begin. Already, her pu**y was moist and swollen, ready to be touched, sucked, and f**ked.
