movement, I feel like my body is splitting in half, but in a good way.
He glides in and out, filling me up with everything that is him.
I want to stay here forever, balancing on the edge of the abyss, but when he presses himself deeper inside of me, he simply pushes me over the edge and a wave of pleasure rushes over my body.
“Liam!” I moan as he squeezes my breasts and continues to go deeper and deeper.
My body goes limp, but he doesn't.
It takes him a few more minutes before he collapses on top of me. We stay here for a while, listening to each other's breaths.
19
Emma
After I take a shower and wash my hair, I put a little bit of makeup on. By the time I get dressed, my hair is almost completely dry.
The humidity is so low, just hovering over eleven percent, so Liam has a few humidifiers around the house. The one in the bedroom is running low on water so I unplug it and fill it back up.
When I come back into the living room, I see him sitting on the swing on the side of the house, right near the goats.
Then I hear something.
He's talking.
He's holding his phone close to his mouth and slightly pushing off the porch with his bare feet to give himself momentum.
I wonder who he's talking to, but when I get closer to the window, I realize that he's not on the phone at all.
Instead, he's writing.
There's a sliding door a little bit behind him and I crack it open to hear him better.
His words are slow and steady. There's a laptop on the seat next to him with the outline of the chapters.
His narration sounds a little bit different from the way that he normally speaks. There are unusual pauses when he thinks about the next thing to say, occasionally stopping in the middle of a sentence, but the flow of the story continues and I lose myself in it.
Liam describes the forest that the main characters approach from the clearing.
He describes the tall and moving trees that shield the sun.
The story picks up when a werewolf attacks the main character and sends her on a desperate search for shelter.
Suddenly, he stops talking.
He turns around and looks at me and the window.
My body goes rigid, but it's too late.
“Are you listening to me?” he asks.
I shake my head no and then realize that if I actually couldn’t hear him, then I wouldn’t answer.
He waves me over and begrudgingly I open the door.
“I'm sorry,” he says, “I just can't narrate out loud.”
“It sounds great,” I reassure him.
“No, I mean I can't dictate with someone listening.”
I shrug and apologize once again.
“It's not you. It's just something that happens. I get self-conscious or something. It's hard to explain.”
I give him a slight nod and shift my weight from one side to another.
“I mean, would you want me to read one of your articles that's not really ready to be seen yet?”
I think about that for a moment.
The answer is a categorical no.
Of course not.
“I know that I shouldn’t be listening,” I say after a while, “but it's just nice to see you at work. It's not every day that you get to come to some famous person's house and see how they create their art.”
He smiles and leans back against the swing. He moves his leg slightly, giving himself some motion.
“How's it going?” I ask, leaning on the side of the door.
“I'm a little bit distracted.”
Now it's my turn to smile.
“Does it have anything to do with me?”
“You would like that, wouldn't you?”
“No, absolutely not,” I say, shaking my head.
“I don't know,” he says after a moment. “It's just hard to concentrate. I keep trying. Usually I don't have a problem with this, but now it’s just sort of hard to gain momentum.”
“Well, what do you usually do when you get started?”
“Come out here or sit behind my desk, look out at the desert, and put on a YouTube video.”
“I'm not sure if I heard that correctly.” I tilt my head to one side, narrowing my eyes.
“I know that it sounds stupid or something, but actually, there are a few writers on YouTube who stream their work. Basically, they do these writing sprints and you can join in with them live or watch them when you are writing yourself. So, when I get started and I'm feeling a little bit out of sorts, it's good to just have someone there with you