Substitute Boyfriend Read Free Page A

first, I’d have to take care of myself, and that wouldn’t work for the scene I was writing.  Nope, we had to go with the flow.
    And, right now, Ridley was doing a great job.  I was so glad I’d thought to change into a sundress.  The heroine in my book had worn a dress for the date, so I figured I should also wear a dress to make my descriptions later more authentic.  I wouldn’t have to imagine what Ridley would have done if I’d been wearing a dress. I could instead describe it.
    He knew how I liked it, though, so there wasn’t any of the bumbling that might really occur with a real date-leading-to-first-night-together, and I assured myself that was okay, because I wrote fantasy books, right?  I mean seriously.  Not all men have huge cocks and are awesome in bed or are great kissers with killer looks.
    Not every guy on the planet is perfect.
    Even Ridley.  Yeah, he was hotter than hell .  I would be lying if I said otherwise.  Sweet Jesus, was he nice to stare at.  I got wet just looking at him.  Seriously.  The guy was unbelievably gorgeous.  He was attractive and had a beautiful body, and I wouldn’t complain about his cock.  It was on the large side.
    And, with training, he’d become a good lover.  Almost excellent.  He was definitely not as selfish in bed as he’d started out.
    Oh, yeah.   Yeah, he’d certainly improved in the lover department.  Yanking my panties halfway down my thighs, he eased his finger between my legs.  He slid between my folds and found me, throbbing and needy.  I could feel his breath on my neck as he chuckled.  He was amused at how turned on I got by him, but I failed to see how funny that was.  I was in serious need of an orgasm, and he was snickering at me.
    Oh, my God.  I was crazy close, closer than I should have been and likely closer than a woman on a first date would be.  Or maybe not.  Hell if I knew.  All I did know was that I couldn’t pretend to be my generic romantic heroine anymore.  I was again Elizabeth Slade, college instructor and semi-successful romance writer, and I was being brought to orgasm by my sexy pretend boyfriend Ridley—first by his finger and then by his enormous cock.  And we did it up against the front door of my second-story apartment.
    Even though I couldn’t be in the head of my heroine at the moment, I’d still be able to translate what happened in my book later.  Sometimes I’d even steal lines from Ridley, making them words the hero said.  It worked really well when I was writing about a cocksure alpha male…not so well if the guy was supposed to be sensitive and caring.
    So he was stroking my clit and I gasped when he got it right the first time.  I let out a low moan against his chest.  “I love how wet you get for me.”  That was a testament to how much the guy turned me on—even though I found his amusement at my obvious state of arousal annoying, I still managed to fall over that precipice.  I moaned again, louder this time, my pussy clenching against his fingers and he kept up the pressure until I begged him to stop.
    He pulled his wallet out of his pocket, a chain hanging from the leather square, and he slid a condom out.  He unwrapped it quickly, with the ease and motion of an expert, and rolled it over his thick, throbbing cock.  Suddenly, I was ready for him again, and the way he held me up against the wall while he slammed into me added to the heightened, frenzied feeling building up inside me once more.  He felt fantastic, and before I knew it, my thighs were clamping around his hips as I groaned, my mouth open against his salty neck.  He shuddered as he came inside me and I let out a long breath, feeling fully satisfied.
    Hot damn.   What a life.
    * * *
    We did wind up in bed…eventually.  I don’t think Ridley ever got used to the snuggling part, but he did like to spend the night once in a while when I’d exhausted him more than usual.  He was dozing off a little, but it was