For those of you wondering what happened to Queen Avis…
I ran into a brick wall. For weeks, I struggled to chisel this story from the depths of my imagination, but I was unmotivated, bored, and not really invested in what Avis did. Then I had an epiphany. I wrote the damn thing in the wrong tense, so I’m fixing that.
Always trust your instincts…Well, here’s a taste of what I’ve done.
The masculine moan didn’t really register. After all, Logan had to be somewhere. The feminine moan, however, stopped me in my tracks.
I was an inch away from my bedroom door. Hand already on the knob, I did nothing but stare for a full minute, my mind completely blank as my heart dropped to my toes. My stomach twisted in a way that left me both winded and much too hot—and a little dizzy, too. Moving slowly so the hinges wouldn’t creak, I opened the door and peeked in.
The pair inside probably wouldn’t have noticed if I’d thrown that bitch wide and tossed my shoes at their heads.
An unfamiliar female was arranged on the edge of my bed. Her arms were braced behind her on my comforter, her head tipped back while my boyfriend knelt between her spread thighs. Her keening filled the room. Logan’s rumbling grunts were muffled in the woman’s cunt.
I froze—literally and figuratively. I held myself still while my veins filled with ice water. The numbness lasted for approximately thirty seconds before anger and betrayal blazed a path down my spine. That opened the way for other emotions to crowd in—curiosity, nervousness, lust.
I felt dirty, like an unwelcome voyeur loitering in dank shadows and fiddling beneath my trench coat, but I didn’t turn away. I didn’t shove the door wider and start screaming, either. No, I pressed my eye to the crack and held my breath, enraptured by both what I saw and the heat that tinged the chaotic mess of emotions ripping my world apart.
Perversion filled me. Disquiet, confusion—maybe even jealousy, too. Muscles deep inside my core clenched at the sight of my boyfriend rooting between another woman’s thighs. I loved to be licked. I loved the feel of a hot, wet tongue running through my slit, catching on my clitoris and slipping between my folds. The delicacy of the caress always made me writhe, searching for something harder, like a few fingers thrusting into my pussy.
Logan had never seemed into it. Most times he avoided going down on me, but he looked as if he’d had a change of heart. He burrowed between the other woman’s legs, head bobbing, shoulders hunched and a grip that turned the lady’s skin colorless beneath his fingertips. With a hard, vicious tug I felt in the pit of my stomach, he dragged the woman to the edge of our bed and gave a hungry groan.
Look for the extended, updated version by the end of April (Don’t buy what’s out now)