Tell Me a Story (The Story Series Book 1) Read Online Free

her with soft kisses when it was all over. Someone who would make the sheets slip violently off the bed at night and who could talk about intelligent things over breakfast.
    Someone like Trent.
    I paused from reading to catch my breath. I was fully perspiring now, between the warm Florida air and my excitement. Already, my inner thighs were slippery with sweat and my own juices. I didn’t know I’d get so excited by reading out loud. Or maybe I was turned on by reading to Caleb.
    “What do you think so far?” I asked, setting my tablet on my lap and trying to look serious. It was difficult keeping a straight face after reading all that.
    “Well, it’s interesting, at least for me, because it’s from a woman’s point of view. I wouldn’t expect a woman to have these…uh, desires. And yet, a guy wouldn’t write about sex this tenderly. It’s intimate. Well, this part is. You write good sex. Sexy sex.”
    “Thank you.” My mouth was parched, and I wondered if I should pause our reading and run to the bar for some ice water. I didn’t really want to leave his side; that was the thing. I was enjoying this too much.
    “But one point, Emma. Maybe you should have a little bit more showing and less telling in chapter two, when she’s about to blow him in the car.”
    I smirked and shot him a skeptical glance. Then I tapped on my screen, flicking back several pages. “Are you serious? I tried to show her emotions there.”
    Caleb sat up, folding himself into a cross-legged position. He extended his hand toward my tablet. “May I?”
    I handed him the device, and he swiped, then looked up. He held out the tablet so I could see the screen and pointed to a line. “Here. I think you need to describe the tactile—the feeling of his cock in her hand—not only what’s in her mind. I get the whole concept of deep POV and everything, but we need to feel what she’s feeling. Does the reader really care about how she feels like she’s different and wild because she’s sucking cock in an SUV? No. They want to live vicariously and that’s written through the five senses.”
    “Hmm.” I bit my lip as I pondered this. He might have a point. I looked up to see the cabana curtains rippling in the warm breeze and fought the urge to respond with a snarky comment. “I’ll take it under advisement.”
    He chuckled, and that’s when it hit me that I was talking to an intriguing man that I’d just met about sucking cock. I laughed, hard, throwing back my head.
    “What? I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s really excellent, please don’t think I’m criticizing you. You’re a wonderful writer. I slipped into critique-group mode there for a minute. I guess I miss being around creative people. I enjoy the banter and discussion.”
    His grin was so adorable that I contemplated leaning forward on all fours and kissing him. I paused, shifting so that I was sitting on my heels, and he rested my tablet on the lounge bed. I looked around to see if anyone was walking by our cabana, and they weren’t. The only sounds I could hear were the muffled voices of people reading their stories.
    I glanced at Caleb and he was wearing that foxy, knowing smile.
    “What?” I asked. “Why are you—”
    “Staring at you?”
    I nodded.
    “You’re striking. That long, curly black hair. Your skin. It looks like you’ve never been in the sun, you’re so fair. And those eyes. Dark. Almost black.”
    I nodded. He noticed.
    “Can I ask you a personal question about your writing?”
    I looked at him and tilted my head.
    “Is your story autobiographical or a fantasy?” The look on his face was curious, not seductive. Which both impressed and disappointed me.
    “Not autobiographical.” I shrugged. “A fantasy? Maybe. Don’t writers all fantasize about the things they put on the page?”
    “You know what I think?” That’s when he reached out to sweep away a curl that had fallen in my face. My heart pounded against my ribs.
    “I think a