• 7 •
When I first heard that the program will take two to three months with ten sessions, I thought that it was pretty long, but now, halfway into it, I feel like I need more time. This is my fifth Saturday at Keenan's home which means that roughly a month had passed. What the fuck did I do in one month?
I haven't even seen the house's bathroom or the hallways other than the one that leads to the study. I've only been in the foyer, the living room, and the big room with books and a desk I'd gladly be fucked on. I've seen a glimpse of the pool from the windows, but I haven't come near the water, not that I have a reason to.
As for the sessions themselves, I can see the progress in my work, but I know that ten sessions are not ample to fill in all the spaces I have for improvement.
Improvement. That's why I'm here. I'm here to improve as a writer and not to crush on Keenan, the reason why my palms and underwear are wet as I wait in the living room for my turn at thirty minutes.
In the living room, I am with Jess and Slater. The cheating thing still bothers me, but I'd rather cast my worries to Keenan and not Slater. The couple sat right across from me, eyes fortunately stuck to their devices as they typed. I, on the other hand, have made almost no progress this week if it wasn't for Keenan texting to remind me about the edits I had to incorporate.
I drummed my fingers against the table beside the sofa I'm sitting on. I lost track of how many minutes Adil's been in the study which means that he'll be out anytime now. Once he's out, it's my turn to die.
You asked for thrill, right?
I closed my eyes and perched my chin on my palm, elbow to the armrest. After I graduated, my body clock was fucked and I had to work hard just to get it back on the right track. The book's been ruining it again.
Before I could doze off, my eyelids flew open at the sound of soles against marble. Sure enough, it was Adlib with his black notebook and a pen in hand. He gestured to the study's direction when he saw me, "Your turn," said my friend.
Yawning and stretching, I got up. "How'd it go?" I had to ask for a vague idea of Keenan's current mood.
Adil smirked, "Great. He doesn't seem to be on his period anymore. Just don't ask dumb questions."
"Right," I huffed and ran my fingers through my hair, throwing locks over my shoulders, "No stupid questions."
I walked into the familiar room and cursed Mr. Travino's genes. He sat behind his desk with silver specs in front of his eyes, shirt hugging his body, and sexy fingers hovering over the keyboard. I had to stop myself from throwing all caution to the wind and spreading my legs for the poor man. A lock of hair fell down to his forehead and he irritably brushed it back with his fingers. God.
"Are you just gonna stand there like a pole or are we going to get this over with?" he lifted his head and glared at me.
I rolled my eyes and prayed that he didn't see. I walked further into the room, but stopped when he spoke again, irritated, "The door, Gia."
I closed the door behind me and walked further into the room. I pulled a chair towards his desk and sat on it. Then, I stared because it's all I could do. Keenan stopped typing and took his glasses off, folding the thin metal and laying it on his desk with grace you would not expect from a big man like him.
He licked his lips, a small movement that had me swooning internally, "It's good that you lied for me," he began, referring to last Saturday with Alicia.
"You can just say thanks, you know," I cocked my head to the side as I observed him up close. He's gorgeous even with the curve between his brows. I might not stop myself from reaching over to straighten that fold out one day.
"That's the closest you'll get. I suggest you take it before I change my mind," said Mr. Travino.
"Fine," I spoke boredly, "You're welcome."
The dark chocolate plates in his eyes took me in begrudgingly, gaze hovering to various parts of my face for an assessment. I'm not a closed book so I don't know why he had to stare for long. Regardless of the reason, the way he took me in had my core burning with anticipation of anything.
"Let me just make it clear," he spoke again, "That if I'm messing around, I'm only messing around."
I immediately knew what he's talking about. He's talking about the impromptu sensual scheme that unfolded many nights ago. Of course he was only messing around. What did you think, Gia?
"I know," I told Keenan. There's that Janella girl and even if she didn't exist, another woman better than you would be in her place.
He seemed satisfied with my response so he spoke again, "Great," he laid his intertwined fingers on the brown wooden surface of the table, "Let's talk sex."
Excuse me?
"Excuse me?" I voiced my reaction.
The brown lock of hair fell to his face again and with a muttered curse, he flipped it back with his fingers. Sex? Talk sex?
"You're not a virgin anymore, Gia. You know how that shit works. If I were Terrence, I'd say that Karylle is one unreadable bitch. That's great if Karylle is that type of girl, but according to your outline, she's not. I can't feel what she feels through her actions," he elaborated further to my relief.
"Well, for one, that's because you don't have a vagina, sir."
That had him raising his eyebrows, "But I don't need to be a killer to be able to relate to one, do I?"
I responded again to his previous words, this time with half a promise, "I'll work on it," gritting my teeth, I just had to ask, "How did you know I'm not a virgin?" it was a rhetorical question. Of course I'm not. I know my shit despite him claiming that I don't.
Keenan shrugged, "I just know."
At a lost for an appropriate response, I kept quiet. He took it as an opportunity to talk some more, "I also know that you've been in love. We all have. I wanna see that in the book. I'd tell you to change the genre, but I like that you're stepping out of your comfort zone."
One second Keenan is a grumpy ogre, and the next he's this Keenan.
"More emotions," I said, "Got it."
"I like how your characters are expressive in their internal monologues. You know how to manipulate people into loving or hating a character based on the narrative you give him or her. You sure are used to mystery," he commented further.
I sighed sharply and nodded my head like a little kid, "Noted."
"Good," Keenan fell back into his chair, the man's throne squeaking when it carried his full weight, "Let's meet on Wednesdays."
"Huh?"
"Are you deaf?" he scratched the back of his head from unnecessary annoyance, "What do you have going on during Wednesdays?"
"Nothing," I told the truth.
"Then be here on Wednesdays if you really want your time's worth," another command from my mentor.
"Okay," I simply said. It's for my improvement, right? I'm lucky to have these opportunities as a growing writer.
"Leave before you annoy me again," he spoke bluntly before picking up his glasses and putting them on again. It makes him look a hundred times more sophisticated. I prefer him either way.
I stood to my feet and nodded once at Keenan for a quiet goodbye. We didn't last thirty minutes, but I don't mind since we'll meet on Wednesday anyway. As I walked to the door, I swore I could feel Keenan's eyes burning the skin at the back of my legs and through the fabric of the top covering my back. Although when I turned to check, his eyes were on his screen. I grabbed the cool metal of the door handle.
"And Gia?" his stern voice sounded from meters behind me.
"Hm?" I turned my head enough to see Keenan Travino.
"She's pretty boring."
Janella is boring.
Before Keenan could see the smile that paved its way to my face, I stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind me. Fuck, why do I feel so giddy?
Once I had gathered my things in the living room, noticing that Jessica and Slater had left already, I let myself out into the front porch. Adil, who I assume was waiting for me, was leaning against Hannibal. He looks like the boy that every girl had a crush on during high school. In an outfit with strictly black and grays against a car that looks like it's made of anthracite coal, Adil is the epitome of Hollywood bad boy.
"How's D8BFD8?" he asked when I was close enough to reach.
"I sleep next to her," I told him, chin up, "She's my new best friend," eat that, Ralph.
"I'm glad I bought you a new best friend," he pocketed his hands. The breeze blew, making Adil's curly hair prominent.
"How's 00FFFF?" I questioned, pertaining to his Cyan blue stuffed bear. He's Thistle's best friend.
"One lazy little fuck," Adil chuckled and I found it adorable, "He's on the couch all day, never helps me with the chores."
"I'm glad I chose Thistle, then," I commented. I searched for Lemon's keys in my bag. Adil fell quiet.
When I found the tiny metal, he spoke again, "Can we have dinner?" oh, Lord. Dinner with Adil sounds nice, but I prefer to do it a month away.
"As friends," he inserted the phrase again, "You made it perfectly clear that I have to wait when you said 'I wanna get through this program without complications' when we were on the ferris wheel."
I cringed and forced a laugh out, "And I thought you didn't get the message."
"I'm not dumb," his smile was contagious, "So, you wanna go? It doesn't have to be tonight or tomorrow night or the night after that. You set the date. It doesn't even have to be romantic."
At least he already knows the limits. I found myself saying yes to Adil. Adil Essa is one great find and I'd be dumb to decline.
As I drove home, my mind was split into three: Keenan, Adil, and Terrence fucking Ambrose. I'm excited for all three. Does that make me a slut?
I worked hard on Terrence and Karylle the whole Sunday and sent everything to Keenan on Monday morning. Throughout Monday, we exchanged message after message about the novel. At some points in the day, I found myself lacking inspiration again.
On Tuesday, I spent a fraction of my sweet time updating Mr. Liddell about the ongoing program, giving Keenan good reviews because admittedly, he is a great mentor, minus his natural grump. It was also on Tuesday afternoon when my beloved mother called to once again ask if I'm still alive and kicking.
"Gianna, I want a baby," my eyes widened into golf balls at my forty-year-old mother's revelation.
"What the fuck, mom," I glared at the view from my balcony, "You're too old."
"You have one, then," the woman told me, "I want babies."
"No, thank you," I shuddered at the thought of a growing organism in my uterus, "I'm too young, woman."
"I had you when I was eighteen," said Lauren Alexie, and I could picture her rolling her eyes to the side, "The fuck are you talking about?"
I palmed my face, "I am not having a baby for you to play with," my voice was laced with finality that I can only hope reached my mother.
"Fine, geez, calm down," her laughter was full of youth. I miss mom.
Thankfully, the topic shifted to other things like the death of her old neighbor who's been annoying them for the past three years.
"Now I can play my music through the speakers," said mom, insensitive towards the poor old man.
Our chat lasted for three hours, right until it was time for her to make dinner. When the call ended, I promised myself to show up unexpectedly in the holidays or sooner, if the world permits. I could use some family time.
When I entered Wednesday, I was a horny woman. Keenan told me that he's only messing around, but I'll gladly take his messing around. When Janella enters my mind, though, guilt beats in my chest. No one deserves to be cheated on—that's what I learned from my stepdad since that's why he divorced his ex-wife. She cheated.
The said guilt struck through me when I pulled up at Keenan's mansion. Nevertheless, my feet brought me to the front door and my fingers made my presence known with a push of a button. He met me at the door a minute later.
I gnawed at the inside of my cheek as I stared at the fine specimen who owns the extravagant home, "Are you always shirt-deprived or is this part of messing around?" I asked, pertaining to his half-nakedness that I am totally not complaining about.
"It's comfortable, Ms. Alexie," he puffed smoke out and I coughed when the gray clouds met my face, "Don't tell me you wear a bra at home," he added.
"Touché," I quoted his response from days ago. With a stretched smile on my face, I let myself in, this time avoiding Keenan's body when I passed.
I plopped on the big black couch, "Let's get this over with," I told Keenan as I pulled out my trusty device. Although it's a hassle to carry, I can't remember the last time I went out without it.
Keenan, big brain and big dick Keenan, stood in front of me on the other side of the coffee table. I noticed that this time, instead of jeans, he's wearing comfy cotton joggers. Don't look at his crotch, Gianna.
Keenan crossed his arms in front of him and with a cocky tone that matched his cocky expression, he spoke, "You're improving and that's because of me," was his comment on my work.
Knowing that he's correct, I didn't contradict. I instead remained quiet. I don't think I can even think straight with Mr. Travino looking like sex in lounge wear right in front of me.
"I want you to review the six chapters you have so far and think of the negative things people might say about the characters, their actions, and the plot. If you don't like those negative comments, find a way to contradict them in a later chapter," said my mentor, "If you think they'll be annoyed with Terrence at some point and you don't want that, insert his redemption towards the subject in a latter scene."
All I did was nod as I tried not to drool. Yes, babe.
Oh my, calm your tits, Gianna.
Keenan walked to a window in the far aide of the room and stared out, much like he always does. He continued his lecture, "Small problems should be resolved in a span of a few chapters. Only the main conflict should go throughout the book. This is only for me, so you can bend it to your advantage."
You wanna know what else I'll bend?
Stop. Stop, Gia. He's already taken by a boring bitch.
Seen as Mr. Travino was not looking, I gaped at his firm chest, later trailing my sight's focus to the ridges of his abdomen—packs of muscle that decorated his upper body.
"Do you see any? So far into the book," I asked my mentor who I want to grab by the arms and—
"Karylle's unemployed," he answered, "The book does not revolve around the woman getting a job though, does it? Solve her little problem by... let's say, chapter nine."
He has a pretty nice ass too.
"Mhm," lower lip in between my teeth, I nodded. I remembered that he can't see me so I added a verbal response, "Noted, sir."
Keenan Travino's side profile is to die for. His face was sculpted into excellence just like the rest of his body. The light that pooled into the room did wonders to his skin, emphasizing its softness that I want to feel beneath my itching fingertips. The fact that he's speaking with mastery about the topic at hand added to my arousal.
I breathed heavily, attempting to calm my hormones that decided to go crazy today, of all days. Deep down, however, I knew that it wasn't my hormones' fault. It's simply Keenan's.
"I know you're staring," he spoke quietly.
I gulped the bile that rose up my mouth, "At what?" stupid, Gi.
"Do you really want me to call you out?" he threatened. Keenan faced me again and I was suddenly pregnant.
"I'm looking for inspo, Mr. Travino," I reasoned. There's no use in denying attraction at this point. Might as well make him think that it's for the book's benefit because it is.
"Inspo?" he tested the word. A challenging look clouded his face and if I am not mistaken, it included a hint of amusement, "If you need inspo, come here."
Don't faint. "I think I'm good now," I told Travino.
"Come here, Gia," his brows raised a portion of centimeter, "Or are you so stupid that you don't understand English anymore?"
Don't faint, dummy. I pushed myself off of the comfy couch. The cool air of Keenan's dominance kissed my skin until goosebumps erupted like sand on a dessert. The rocks in my stomach got more and more heavier after every step. I stopped about two feet away from Mr. Come-here-Gia-I'll-make-you-question-your-morals.
Intense eyes on mine, just like we're fucking passionately on his bed, "Karylle's attraction is stuck in her head," spoke Travino, "She's a corpse for not reacting to Terrence," my lower extremities were weak, as if they'd give out at any second.
The air around me turned hot. Keenan continued, "Like breathing hard when Terrence is looking at her," and I realized that I was breathing hard just by the magnitude of Keenan's bold scrutiny.
Keenan probably wants me dead because I obviously cannot handle the situation, yet he chose to go further. He spoke, "Or squirming when he's close," gently, he hooked his thumbs to the waistband of my denim shorts and pulled me close—body against body, enough for me to feel the heat from his chest. I squirmed. Holy mother of Thistle.
"And swallowing when she's touched," his one hand traveled up my side and up my chest until his palm reached my cheek. Ever so gently, the pad of his thumb brushed against my lips, tugging at the bottom one until my mouth parted. I swallowed.
Keenan's eyes fell to my lips as he massaged the one under with his thumb, the small gesture electrifying my excitement. I squirmed once again, and this time, the man's body against mine countered the involuntary movement. Shit, maybe I am going to give my mother a grandchild after all.
And like Keenan could not stop himself from being a Gianna Alexie murderer, he slipped the said thumb into my mouth, his skin touching my tongue. Oh, God.
And like I did want to die in the hands of Keenan Travino, I flicked my tongue against it.
Mr. Travino leaned close until his lips were right against my ear. His lips teased the skin before he spoke, "If I knew better, I bet she'd be wet," I became aware of the wetness between my legs.
"Noted," was the stupid thing I managed to squeak out.
Keenan pulled his face away and drew his thumb out of my mouth only to use both hands to grip my behind. We were already against each other, but after a slight tug, I was able to feel it: the hard bulge against my lower stomach.
"Is she?" he asked, brows furrowed.
"What?"
"Wet," he said.
May the heavens still let me in, "Terrence should check for himself."
Keenan killed me and I was resurrected only to be murdered by him again, this time with the sexy grin that broke through his face. Is this real? Is he really smiling because of me?
"Great idea," said Keenan, "You should write that down," his hands on my ass slackened. He dragged the said hands to my sides and let them stay there.
"Send it by tonight, Gigi," he ordered.
I was still incredibly aroused. The wetness and the throbbing of my sex was unbearable. I need a good fuck.
"I can't," I told him, "I have somewhere to be."
Travino ground against me and I'm pretty sure it was involuntary as well. "Got a date, Alexa?" he wondered.
"It's Alexie," my back arched, chest delicious digging against him. Closer. I need to be closer—so close that he's inside me.
"Whatever," Keenan said, vexed, "Who is it?"
A dry chuckle escaped my lips. Confidence was flowing through me and I decided to utilize it, "None of your business, Mr. Travino. It's my personal life."
He caught himself then. Keenan licked his lips before I felt one hand grab at my butt again, squeezing hard until I tumbled against Keenan. My hands found leverage on his arms.
"That's true," he spoke honestly, "I hope you get the inspo you need," and it sounded like a challenge since the conceited man knew I'd be thinking about him all night.
"I will," I confirmed, making it seem as if I can forget about him the second I see Adil. What a clown.
"You fuck on the first date?" he asked, prying once again.
"How did you know it's our first?" even though I stated clearly to Adlib that it's not a date.
Keenan's jaw clenched and he squeezed a cheek again, "Lucky guess," he said.
I had to remind myself that Keenan is only messing around and even if I take my clothes off right there and then, he won't let anything happen. I took the liberty to say "Detach."
That took Keenan by mild surprise. After a beat, he detached. I stepped back and put enough distance between us. It took all of my self control not to gape at the impressive hard-on in his pants.
Keenan's face was blank. I spoke for both of us, "I'll see you on Saturday."
"Don't be late."
"Bye,"
"Bye."
[a/n: i reread CC and just now realized that the steamy scenes i put there were actually quite unique.
i'd be a great porn director bruh]