I’m doing one of these early tonight because I think I killed my writey-brain and I’m staring at these topics Gary gave us for the next round of LJI.

South Indian Cuisine
ha-ha [not to be confused with laughter]
It’s Not Tacky If You Wear It Well.
Go tell the Spartans

Like seriously, what the hell am I supposed to do with these? I might want to just self-eliminate and give up. Because I can’t make gold from these. I’m sure I can’t. Or well, I probably can, but ughhh my brainnn. She no work right. I guess that’s what happens when you write 1500 words of smut in one day. 

Speaking of, here’s like, the only 500 words that don’t have any sex in it out of 5000:

***

“Did you have fun this afternoon?” Mitchel asks nonchalantly, his hands tightening around the steering wheel of the car. 

I stiffen in the passenger seat, refusing to look over at him. We had dropped Jazz off not that long ago, and things had been quiet in the car ever since. Never a good fucking sign. “I did,” I answer, keeping my voice low. Maybe if I sound guilty about how much fun I did have, he’ll let me off easy.

“Clearly,” he snorts, frowning to himself. “I’m certain it was not your intent to get Jazz to beg for it.”

“But…?” I prompt, smiling at him warily. There’s always a but when he makes assumptions about my intent — not that he’s wrong, right now. The bastard usually isn’t.

“Your future request for a threesome is denied,” he says, turning to smirk at me. 

My shoulders immediately relax as I chuckle quietly to myself in relief. “Damn, I was hoping you wouldn’t say that,” I mutter, lightly crossing my arms over my chest. “Does this mean you’re not mad at me?”

Mitchel snickers, flashing a smile in my direction. “Of course not, Doctor. If you hadn’t listened to him and made him beg harder, I might have been, but since you performed his request right away…”

I let out the breath I had been holding slowly, running my fingers through my hair. “Can we ask him to come back for another video, then?” I ask despite myself.

Mitchel shakes his head, his slight smile still there. “Perhaps.”

I grin to myself and lean back into my seat, closing my eyes. “You really want to fuck him yourself, don’t you?” 

“He’s rather…vocal,” Mitchel says after a moment, as if carefully choosing his words. “Also, if you’re on your best behavior, I might entertain the idea of a threesome after all.”

“I like the sound of that,” I whisper, taking hold of Mitchel’s hand and giving it a squeeze as he continues to drive. He squeezes back, keeping his eyes on the road.

I think I just might know how we make this relationship of ours work….

Advertisements