The Romance Writer (Part 3): The Dangers of Love

Mike was crazy about Cherie. He really couldn’t resist her. And now here she was, lying in his arms in a tangle of their cast-off clothes on the sun-drenched floor of a lighthouse.

This was definitely not part of his job description.

And speaking about jobs, she was telling him about hers, shyly. He stroked her shoulders, kissed her cheek as she confided.

“So, I’ve always been a writer. I wrote stories about goblins and faeries when I was a kid and…little books for my sister’s children, and I write environmental impact studies for my dad’s marine conservation foundation.”

“I bet you’re good at all of them,” he said, as his kisses progressed, almost involuntarily, from her cheek, to her neck, to the shoulder he was stroking.

“But I’m best at writing romance.”

“I have no doubt,” he said as he kissed her fingers.

“Erotic romance,” she said, and reached for his face, turning his cheek so she faced him directly. “It’s kind of a secret. My family doesn’t know.”

“Why not?” he asked, genuinely surprised.

“It’s – private. I mean it’s kind of… well, explicit? And they might not understand. It might hurt some people. Or cause them to get into trouble. Or maybe,” here she paused, earnestly, “maybe I just want to not risk any of that. Maybe I like having a secret life. Just a little.”

“Okay, I get it. Sometimes we have to keep some secrets. For everyone else and maybe because we have to,” he said.

“But I don’t want to keep secrets from you.”

“I’d like to read everything you write,” he said. And that was true. What he had read, he enjoyed enormously. Maybe too enormously.

To squash that thought, he moved on top of her. He was already hard again, as he pressed against her soft, damp pussy. Her breasts against his chest, so full, so – well, ripe, as she would describe them in one of her books. He bent his head to kiss them, caress them with his tongue, feel the gratifying rise of her nipples between his lips.

“I don’t want to keep any secrets,” she murmured.

He raised his head just long enough to reply. “I don’t want to keep anything from you either,” he said. He meant it, too. But of course he was keeping not just anything but something really important from her. That her neighbor was a deeply evil and dangerous man; that he was here in this small town to get enough information on him to lock him up for good, not slither away under the guidance of an expensive lawyer…

She pulled him close again. “Don’t stop what you’re doing now. This is our little secret together,” she laughed.

And he returned to the most pleasurable secret he’d ever kept, that he was not currently sitting in the surveillance van in the Depoe Bay campground, his partner was alone with his listening, and his own surveying was currently focused on Cherie’s glistening, hard nipples.

He pressed her thighs open with his hand, and slipped his cock inside her again.

She was so open, hot, wet, and ready. He plunged on in.


Cherie was lost to the moment. The wonderful illicitness of being in this place, a place she had written about, about a couple doing just what they were doing – although frankly, not nearly as well – it excited her more than she had ever felt.

She rolled over on top of Mike, feeling his dick still thrust deep inside her, moving up and down on him, her hair brushing against his forehead, his mouth seeking her mouth, their clothes all bunched up beneath them – she didn’t want this to end.

But it ended a moment before either of them was quite ready to climax.

A buzz of a cell phone – Mike’s – from inside the pocket of his discarded jeans.

He must’ve pressed speaker as they lay tangled together, because a voice came over the phone, muffled. “Mike, Mike are you there? It’s pretty urgent…”

And to her surprise, instead of shutting it off, Mike reached for the phone and clicked the speaker silent, but answered the call.

“Sorry, just a bit occupied at the moment. How can I help you?” Mike asked.

Cherie could only stare at his tousled hair, flushed face, and enormous cock.

Stare at it and touch it just a little. He smiled at her, even as he listened intently to whatever was being said on the other end of the phone.


“Oh, you’re not alone.” It was Adam, Riley’s partner on this case.

Smart guess, Mike thought, trying not to gasp as Cherie rubbed her fingers lightly across the head of his penis.

“How can I help?” he managed.

“Nathan’s getting ready to move in the Porsche. Says he’s leaving in an hour and will make contact with the ‘package’ right away. I don’t know where you are but obviously not a job for our van.”

“No of course not. But the package you’re referring to?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Okay. Well, I’ll do my best. I’m… on it.”

Cherie was rubbing his cock between her palms. He couldn’t just up and leave her but he had to go very soon.

He shut off the phone, turning it to vibrate.

“I’m sorry,” he said to Cherie. “That really broke the moment.”

“Not entirely,” she said, and leaning forward, she put his cock in her mouth.

He gasped with pleasure, closing his eyes to both the sunlight and the delicious absurdity of his situation.

“But I have to…go…” he said.

“First you have to come,” she replied.


He was a wonderful lover, Cherie thought as she sucked him. He had two fingers inside her, flicking her at exactly the right spot, oh, yes, just there – she felt herself swell and rush and her own wetness around his fingers, and then he came too, and they both cried out at the same, exact time.

Just like lovers in one of her books. But better. Yes, better. Because it was real, and it was happening to her, not to her and her vibrator but with this gorgeous man, who was kissing her breasts, caressing her hips, and now — getting up and pulling his jeans on.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“My most annoying and most lucrative client once again needs more than I can give him over the phone. And this time he’s willing to pay for it. I’m gonna have to head back over to Portland after all.”

“Oh,” said Cherie. “When will you get back?”

“Late, probably,” he said. “I feel really bad about this. Worse than you could possibly know.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I mean – we are leaving here, but I will be at my apartment, just waiting for you to pick up that package.”

He was taken aback for a minute, but then realized she’d heard what he’d said.

“Yes. Software,” he covered.

“Hardware,” she said, as she stood up, gathering her clothes. She passed her hand against his cock, which was still hard pressed up against the fabric of his jeans.

“Look, no matter when I get back, no matter what time it is, how about if I swing by and we grab some dessert at least.”

She smiled and laughed. “Only if you make it chocolate.”

“I’ll come up with something good.”

“I bet you will,” she teased.

“I’d never go if I didn’t have to.”

She found herself grinning from ear to ear. This was too much too soon, even under ordinary circumstances. And yet she knew just how true that was, and how strange a feeling it was for her to know that he meant just what he said.

“I wouldn’t either,” she smiled.


The ride back was windswept and too short for Cherie’s taste. Mike was pushing the speed limit; his mind seemed to be elsewhere. Probably, she realized ruefully, with work.

She wished he hadn’t answered at his phone, but she certainly wouldn’t want to be the reason he lost his best client. And at least he promised he was coming back.

It’s not like he was going off to Portland never to return. Was he? There was that little doubt.

All too soon, they pulled up at her front door. He looked at her with such tenderness, such feeling – how could she possibly doubt him.

He kissed her, but the kiss didn’t linger this time. She knew he had to be on his way. She pulled her keys from her purse. He reached for her hand and stroked it lightly. His fingers made the charm on the end of her key-ring jingle.

He looked down. “What’s this?”

Cherie held it up. “My lucky charm. It’s a gold anchor – it was once my granddad’s. He gave it to me when I was a little girl and told me it keeps you safe even if you’re lost or far from home.”

“That’ll never be you. Lost. Far from home.” He smiled. “And if you are, I’ll find you, how’s that?”

She gave him another kiss for that one. She believed him, too, even if he did look as if his mind was a thousand miles away. “Drive safe,” she said.

As she watched him drive away, she realized she could hardly wait for him to come back. She could smell him on her skin, still feel the heat rising on her cheeks and between her legs.

She watched until she couldn’t see his tail lights anymore.


Mike picked up Nathan’s car just as he was leaving Depoe Bay. He followed him all the way into Portland. Evan spent some time in a boating supply store, then a fishing charter company.

Mike slipped in among a group of tourists waiting for a charter, hoping to get close enough to hear whatever Nathan was up to. Nathan took a phone call while he was in line at the counter, and informed someone that he’d have “the package” soon. He sounded impatient, as if he was being questioned by someone, someone higher up.

That package again.

He texted the names of both locations for follow up. He’d bet good money that Nathan was making arrangements for some kind of smuggling operation. Maybe an employee at one location or another could be leaned on to get some more solid information.

Nathan was leaning against the counter, asking what boats were available for hire that evening. He unfolded a page of a topographical map, and the employee nodded, and conveniently repeated aloud “So you need a boat brought to the Oregon Coast Nature Preserve right here – that’s mileage marker 28, am I seeing that correctly?”

“There’s only one cove,” Nathan said impatiently.

“Boat being arranged,” Mike texted Adam, along with the location.

“I’ll have to call you in a couple hours about scheduling,” the employee said. “I have to see who’s available to bring it out.”

“As soon as possible,” Nathan said.

At that Nathan’s own phone buzzed, and he pulled it from his pocket.

“Be patient. I’ll have the package soon.” He shook his head, and strode right past Mike toward the door. And so his words were incredibly clear to Mike. “She lives next door to me. I’ll just grab her when she’s alone. The boyfriend doesn’t live with her.”

Goosebumps rose on the back of Mike’s neck. Cherie was the package. Why he didn’t know. What he did know was that he had to stop any plans Nathan had for special delivery.


Cherie was writing. There was nothing else she could do to pass the time and use everything she’d felt today about Mike without going crazy just wanting him touching her again, right this minute.

Mike. That super sexy half smile, the way he tilted his head as he leaned in to kiss her, the way he touched her tits, lightly, lightly, longingly with his tongue.

She wrote –

Late night, star gazing on the beach. The darkness soft and warm, the surf lapping gently on the sand. The fire Jake built sent sparks dancing up in the night air, its flames hissing softly.

Jake pulled Suzanne against him. Her gold gown, so out of place on this quiet stretch of sand, glittered in the firelight. Slowly, slowly, he slipped first one strap of the thin, shiny material from one shoulder, and then the other. The fabric drooped low. Just one little tug and – there they were, her breasts, free from the confines of the shimmery dress.

He touched them, running his fingers around the nipples until they hardened in the night air. He bent forward and licked them lightly, licked the space between them, peeled the dress lower, licking her chest, and then her belly, and now the dress was bunched around her hips.

“Not so fast,” she said. “Your turn.” Her hands deftly unfastened his belt, unzipped him, lifted his cock in her hands. She knelt down in the sand, her dress glittering in the sand around her like moonlight on water. She took him into her mouth.

He groaned as she sucked him, hard and fast. His fingers found her breasts again, pulling on her nipples, keeping them impossibly erect…

Cherie could feel herself getting impossibly horny.

There was a knock on her door.

For once, she didn’t mind being interrupted from her work.

“I was afraid I’d be too late,” he said, sounding ridiculously serious.

“It’s never too late,” she said.

He stepped inside, and locked the door behind him, as if someone might follow him in.

Only then did he kiss her, and it was a long, delicious hello.

She wasn’t wearing a shimmering gown, but she was wearing a bright dress with a halter neck – and she couldn’t wait for him to untie it. She ran her hands along his sides to his hips, and pulled him against her.

“It’s not late at all,” Cherie said, laughing happily. “Now that you’re here.”

“I hurried – I haven’t even brought dessert,” he said.

“We can – make our own,” she suggested, rubbing herself against him like a cat.

“Oh, we will,” he said. “But I was thinking – how about s’mores? On the beach?”

“I was just writing about having a little fun on the sand. Why not?” she said. “If you promise to undress me.”


Mike had to find out what Cherie knew about the place Nathan described, if anything. He had to find out why she was what Nathan appeared to be after. And he also had to keep her safe. He’d worked and reworked the best way to do both in his head, as he drove back to Depoe Bay. All he could think to do was to take her along with him.

So here he was suggesting a midnight drive. Watching as Nathan’s car rounded a corner toward the apartment just as he was pulling away.

He was one step ahead but he wanted more steps than that.

And now here he was, stopping at a convenience store for firewood and marshmallows and chocolate and skewers while Cherie pressed up against him from behind and he rubbed her back through the thin dress and wanted nothing more than to peel it from her.

“Where are we headed?” she asked, when they were out on the open road.

“I have a surprise in mind. My client, as big a pain as he is, suggested his favorite romantic spot.”

He kissed her again, his lips warm and tender.

“I’m sorry I had to leave you like that today,” he said. “I have no intention of letting you out of my sight tonight.”

“Sounds good to me.”

A few minutes later, he was pulling off Highway 101 and down a side road lined with pines.

“How strange,” Cherie said. “That your client would’ve come here. We’re on nature conservancy land. My dad’s.”

“Wow,” Mike said, his heart hammering in his chest. “That’s a coincidence. I’ll have to let him know.”

They stepped out of the car, and he kissed her again, and now his hands slipped cool under her dress, stroking the soft skin along the curve of her spine, moving up her back and around to the front, where he lifted her bra and stroked her breasts back and forth gently until her nipples were taut.

He was operating on rote, thinking how he could text Adam whose land this was.

“Oh,” she gasped.

How was he ever going to reach for his phone, now? Pretend he forgot something, go back to the car…

“Don’t stop,” she breathed.

He unfastened her bra and pulled it off her shoulders, one arm at a time, and slipped each arm from beneath each strap, until he could pull it away from her. He could see the beautiful curve of her breasts and the hardness of her nipples when the bra fell away.

He tucked it in the pocket of his jeans, and through the thin fabric of her dress, began to kiss her nipples, to circle them with his tongue through the fabric.

“Let’s get a fire started,” he said, breaking from her.

“Haven’t we?” she laughed.


Mike pulled away from her and turned back to the car; he opened the trunk fast, but he was taking a long time now getting the cord of wood and the convenience store bag from the back.

For a moment she thought she saw the glow of his cell phone but that was crazy and now he was slamming the trunk shut again, and laughing.

“I can’t believe you know this place,” he said, as he led her from their end-of-the-road parking spot onto the sand.

“My dad’s the administrator of the trust. This is the only undeveloped parcel between here and Coos Bay.”

“How about that. So he’s the one who keeps it undeveloped?”

“Right,” she said, wondering why he seemed so interested.

His face was mostly in the shadows, so she couldn’t read his expression. But now he was silent, as if he was lost in thought, his hand resting on the bundle of wood.

“So it’s privately held?” he said at last. “This land?”

“Yes,” Cherie thought she got it now. He was probably concerned that they were on private property, worried that he’d done something that might go against her family’s wishes or something.

“It’s fine that we’re here,” she said reassuringly. “I mean my dad isn’t going to have us arrested for trespassing or something. If that’s what is bothering you. Your client recommended a great spot.”

He was still frowning, and she knew that something was certainly troubling him. “It’s not restricted access,” she added.

“That’s good,” Riley said. He sounded a million miles away, but he spread a blanket and untied the wood at last.

Cherie stumbled on, watching him as he expertly stacked it in a Boy Scout-perfect pyramid. “I love this place. My dad will never agree to selling it, even though people have tried.”

“That’s good,” he said. “A place this beautiful should be kept – safe.” A moment and then he said “Some people are just no good. There’s probably someone trying to buy this place right now.”

“There’s been one very persistent guy, yeah,” she said. “But my dad won’t give in.”

He was silent, as if lost in thought.

“Mike? Everything okay?”

He was striking a match against the wood now, coaxing up a flame.

He looked at her, and smiled.

“Yes. Yes, sorry, fine. Just work stuff on my mind.”

“Well, you need to stop that. I only want me on your mind,” she chided him.

He stood and pulled her tight against him. “You are,” he said, and his embrace was fierce and so was his voice. He kissed her again, long and deep. He kissed her until her lips felt raw, and then she was kissing him, they were locked like that, his hands rubbing her back, her buttocks, hers pulling him close so that she could feel him.

She closed her eyes. She wanted her dress peeled down to her waist, the way she had Jake start to undress Suzanne in her book…

Of course, Mike wasn’t Jake, and she wasn’t clad in a sparkly dress, and…

Perhaps she was making him out to be more like the heroes in her books than he actually was. Maybe she had conjured him up. Maybe half of what she was feeling was just her imagination…She was touching his cock through his jeans, she could feel how hard he was. She wasn’t imagining that.

And so what, honestly, if she was relating to him in much the same way that the women she wrote about related to the men that she wrote about. With that kind of headlong passion.

Only now it was real. Mike was a real flesh and blood man, and she was a real woman. And she’d fallen hard for him, and she was sure, so sure he had fallen for her.

With one hand he was lifting her dress, stroking her pussy from behind, and now one finger, and now another, was inside her and she felt slippery and excited. He was kissing her again. She wanted him to swallow her up.

And yet she felt, somewhere deep inside her, something was – off tonight. Was it? Was this her imagination too?

He seemed preoccupied, even as he was kissing her, stroking her.

The fire was roaring now, she felt its heat on her skin.

With his free hand, he lifted hers to his lips, and kissed her palm. He kissed each of her fingers one at a time, the way he had by the car. She tingled all over.

He untied her halter, and yes, just as she’d written it, her breasts fell free, the fabric drooped to her waist, and he was lapping her nipples gently, circling them with his tongue. They glistened in the orange glow of the fire.

His fingers inside her were moving, stroking, flicking at her, she gasped as she came but he didn’t stop, he kept going, urging her to come again – and again, and she did, hot and wet, moving, achingly over his fingers, his hand. She couldn’t bear it, she wanted him inside her. She came again, and cried out, her cry echoing across the beach, falling away in the sound of the waves.

She could not wait a moment longer.

She reached for his belt and unbuckled it.

But – to her surprise, he stopped her. “Let’s save the best for last,” he said.


“Let’s make those s’mores,” he said. “And let me lick the sticky, gooey, marshmallow off your hands.”

“I want you,” she said, her voice thick and low. “Right now. I want you to press me down on this blanket and lift up my legs, and pull off my panties, and stick your big, hot cock inside my—”

“And I want you. Man, how I want you. But let’s step back – just a minute. It’ll be even better.”