Read Online One Night: A BWWM Interracial Romance by Camilla Stevens - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Camilla Stevens
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pulled up his novel.
It was easy creating the scene. It was even easier—and far more enjoyable—describing the new heroine: silky, smooth brown skin; full, delectable lips; killer legs (capped in stilettos instead of UGG boots).
Unforgettable face.
He typed for hours, inserting her in one scene after another. Memories of last night flooded his brain and splashed across his keyboard as he brought them back to life on the screen in front of him. The blood pulsed through his body as he relived it on the page. That was a good sign.
Jesus, this woman!
The name was the hard part. His first instinct had been to go ahead and name her Natalie. Somehow it seemed wrong. It wasn’t that it didn’t fit, it was that he wanted Natalie for himself. This woman would be shared with the world (God willing), and while Natalie was certainly the inspiration, she belonged to him and him alone.
Jake went through a litany of names: Nancy; Nicole; Noelle. Naomi was the one that stuck.
Nick and Naomi. It was perfect.
Hours later he looked up to see that the sun had reached the other side of the lake, creating new and different shadows. The grumbling of his stomach reminded him that he’d only had coffee today. The breakfast he’d ordered for Natalie was probably disgustingly cold by now, but it was good enough to tide him over until he could order something fresh.
He made his way into the bedroom and inspected the scene. Apparently Natalie had a time of it trying to find her clothes. The arm chair was pushed aside and the bedspread was thrown to one side, practically off the bed.
A white spec caught his eye as he surveyed the area. It was on top of the armoire near the back. Even at 6’2” he had to strain his neck to get a better look at it. He walked over and stood on his toes to reach it. Pulling it down he realized it was Natalie’s underwear. A clear memory of pulling it down her silky thighs and flinging in the air went through his mind and he smiled down at them. He wondered how frantic she must have been searching for these. Obviously she had been too short to see where they were located.
“I guess you’ll be my good luck souvenir,” he said, looking down at them.
Jake bent his head down, memories flood his brain as he took in the scent of her. He grabbed a piece of bacon and made his way back to his laptop. He put the bacon in his mouth and the panties on the desk next to him.
It was time to put the finishing touch on this revision.
The dedication page read:
To Natalie, my muse and the inspiration for Naomi.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
NATALIE
The first half hour of the car ride home to Los Angeles had been strained silence. Natalie, still not fully recovered from her hangover, had sat in the front passenger seat avoiding her friends’ unspoken questions.
Unfortunately, Natalie hadn’t made it back to the room before her friends did. In fact, she had been literally steps behind them as they came back from breakfast. It wasn’t lost on her that the long kiss with Jake was probably the reason for this.
Naturally it had opened the door for a barrage of questions. They took in the disheveled state of her hair and clothes, the face that probably broadcasted her hungover state, the fact that she hadn’t showered, and they started in on her.
Yes, she was okay.
No, she didn’t need to eat anything.
She was sorry they were so worried.
“Okay, spill it,” Denise finally said, slapping the steering wheel with her hand.
Natalie closed her eyes as her head fell back into the headrest. “I’ve already told you, there’s nothing to spill!”
“So, you spent the whole night in the bar lounge area reading your book?”
“Yes.”
“And that’s why your hair is was a mess and your clothes were wrinkled?”
“Yes.”
“And why you smell like sex?” Mia asked in the back seat.
Natalie’s head spun around. “What? Do I?”
It was easy creating the scene. It was even easier—and far more enjoyable—describing the new heroine: silky, smooth brown skin; full, delectable lips; killer legs (capped in stilettos instead of UGG boots).
Unforgettable face.
He typed for hours, inserting her in one scene after another. Memories of last night flooded his brain and splashed across his keyboard as he brought them back to life on the screen in front of him. The blood pulsed through his body as he relived it on the page. That was a good sign.
Jesus, this woman!
The name was the hard part. His first instinct had been to go ahead and name her Natalie. Somehow it seemed wrong. It wasn’t that it didn’t fit, it was that he wanted Natalie for himself. This woman would be shared with the world (God willing), and while Natalie was certainly the inspiration, she belonged to him and him alone.
Jake went through a litany of names: Nancy; Nicole; Noelle. Naomi was the one that stuck.
Nick and Naomi. It was perfect.
Hours later he looked up to see that the sun had reached the other side of the lake, creating new and different shadows. The grumbling of his stomach reminded him that he’d only had coffee today. The breakfast he’d ordered for Natalie was probably disgustingly cold by now, but it was good enough to tide him over until he could order something fresh.
He made his way into the bedroom and inspected the scene. Apparently Natalie had a time of it trying to find her clothes. The arm chair was pushed aside and the bedspread was thrown to one side, practically off the bed.
A white spec caught his eye as he surveyed the area. It was on top of the armoire near the back. Even at 6’2” he had to strain his neck to get a better look at it. He walked over and stood on his toes to reach it. Pulling it down he realized it was Natalie’s underwear. A clear memory of pulling it down her silky thighs and flinging in the air went through his mind and he smiled down at them. He wondered how frantic she must have been searching for these. Obviously she had been too short to see where they were located.
“I guess you’ll be my good luck souvenir,” he said, looking down at them.
Jake bent his head down, memories flood his brain as he took in the scent of her. He grabbed a piece of bacon and made his way back to his laptop. He put the bacon in his mouth and the panties on the desk next to him.
It was time to put the finishing touch on this revision.
The dedication page read:
To Natalie, my muse and the inspiration for Naomi.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
NATALIE
The first half hour of the car ride home to Los Angeles had been strained silence. Natalie, still not fully recovered from her hangover, had sat in the front passenger seat avoiding her friends’ unspoken questions.
Unfortunately, Natalie hadn’t made it back to the room before her friends did. In fact, she had been literally steps behind them as they came back from breakfast. It wasn’t lost on her that the long kiss with Jake was probably the reason for this.
Naturally it had opened the door for a barrage of questions. They took in the disheveled state of her hair and clothes, the face that probably broadcasted her hungover state, the fact that she hadn’t showered, and they started in on her.
Yes, she was okay.
No, she didn’t need to eat anything.
She was sorry they were so worried.
“Okay, spill it,” Denise finally said, slapping the steering wheel with her hand.
Natalie closed her eyes as her head fell back into the headrest. “I’ve already told you, there’s nothing to spill!”
“So, you spent the whole night in the bar lounge area reading your book?”
“Yes.”
“And that’s why your hair is was a mess and your clothes were wrinkled?”
“Yes.”
“And why you smell like sex?” Mia asked in the back seat.
Natalie’s head spun around. “What? Do I?”
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