He stroked her cheek, causing her heart to jump to her throat; did he love her like he said? She let the questions fade as he softly placed his lips on hers. Instantly her hands were at the back of his neck, twirling in between the strands, getting lost in the long sleek curls she loved so much. She knew this moment wouldn’t last, she knew eventually she would have to relinquish this moment and they would both pretend it never happened. But she longed desperately that it wouldn’t, that she would never have to let go, and they wouldn’t have to pretend!
Without notice he began to pull away. “Not yet”, her mind screamed. She clung to him tightly, pulling him into her. Finally he broke away. The look he shot her spoke of pain and distrust, and she knew she had broken the sacred alliance they had formed during this many passionate embraces. She was never supposed to ask for more, never feel a connection with him that stepped outside of their finely traced boundaries. She looked at the floor and pushed his arms away from his side. She looked deeply into his eyes, trying to find some meaning behind the pain she felt and he emanated. Finding nothing she couldn’t help but sigh. That’s not what she wanted. She wanted him to fall for her. Deeply, passionately. All he did was want her… slowly, she walked away.
That was the start of her newest book, The Perfect Man, but from that point she didn’t know how to continue. She was an author under a pin name, which no one knew belonged to her, Risika Johns. Most of her books were fantasies and romances, save for the few mysteries she wrote. But all of her books revolved around one guy… and what a guy he was. Aubrey Richardson. Stunning good looks, ingenious when it came to things that simply made her head spin. A guy that was attractive enough to drive an author, who wrote of passion and heated embraces mind you, mad with heartache and lust. There is truly no other way to describe it. To tell what she knew as a desire and a thirst, a longing and a passion, an uncontrollable hunger.
“Would you care to join us Miss?”, the new TA called from the front of the room. She rolled her eyes. Her college required her to take all the basic levels of literature and writing classes, but every moment she was in here, the more and more aggravated she became.
“Normally I’d say yes and tell you to bug off, but since you don’t seem to know me that well, I’ll humor you and give you another chance before I let you get on my nerves.” That got a roll of laughter from the students seated around her. The TA walked up the rows until he reached the row she was at.
“Well, stay after class and we can get to know each other.”, he said with a wink. “Now I want everyone to tell me their name, major and something deeply interesting about themselves, starting with my new friend here.”
Another fit of giggles.
She opened her mouth to speak, when the TA motioned for her to stand up. When she finally managed to squirm out from in between the overly cramped line of desks around her she crossed arms over her chest and waited for the nod of approval. Granted.
“Now what’s your name?”
“Rona Marks. Yours?” Actually intrigued by this man’s boldness, she wanted to get to know him, to find out what made him tick.
“Hunter Blackwell. Now, your year and major, if you could privilege the class?”
“I’m a freshman. I started a year late, so I’m 19, and my major is literature,” Rona declared, already growing bored with being on full display for the rest of the packed lecture hall.
“Well, be sure you wait after class. I don’t deal with disrespect, even if it comes from someone less aware of the policies in place on a college campus. It’s time for us all to grow up ma’am. You can have a seat.”
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