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Melody has been a fan of Fifty Shades of Grey since she picked it up. Now, she’s looking off the pages for her own Christian Grey. Instead, her opinion of Christian is tainted by the cocky paramedic that has redefined what a Dom is supposed to be.
Curtis gives Melody his number following a lecture on lifestyle safety. Moving from scene to scene, he doesn’t anticipate how Melody will worm her way into his life. Is he ready for a 24/7 relationship?
And here's your tease! It's probably my favorite scene from the whole thing. Always makes me giggle (as embarrassing as it is that I giggle at my own jokes)
She’s talked a lot yesterday with Frank about Damon. Luckily, her friend had the day off to spend with her. He’d been there when she was sick again, reminded her to take her pain meds, and listened to her gripe that her first BDSM experience had gone bad. Frank had fetched her copy of Fifty Shades Darker so she could curl up in her chair and read while he fixed dinner for them. There was no friend like Frank. Well, maybe his SO, Mike. By the time he went home last night, it was clear her concussion wasn’t getting worse.
Inhaling deeply, she held her breath a moment, considering how she should respond to Damon’s message.
I’m going to be fine, Damon. I wanted you to know that. But I can’t play with you anymore.
She debated calling or texting and opted for the latter. She didn’t want to talk about how she was feeling. She’d lie and say she was fine when she still had a tender stomach and her head felt two sizes too big. She sipped the mint tea from her mug and waited for the drugs and herbs to treat pain and nausea.
A message came on her phone.
Let me know if I can help.
Damon’s care made her smile despite wanting to keep her distance. It hadn’t been a deep or long relationship, so she wasn’t heartbroken and he shouldn’t be either. The accident had broken her trust, though, and that wasn’t something that could be stitched up like her forehead.
Her forehead. She touched the bandage covering the stitches. Heat flared and she winced. It wasn’t puffy, though. That was good. The gouge had gone right to the bone and would leave a small scar high enough on her forehead to hide by combing her hair forward.
As she set the mug on the counter, she noticed the number again. She’d fought the urge to call her hero yesterday, but curiosity was killing her. Frank encouraged her to do so, after listening to her crush on him for an hour or more. What was Curt like when he wasn’t saving the lives of damsels? What did he do for fun? Who did he do? What would he do to her?
Closing her eyes, Melody focused on the steam rising from her cup and condensing on her chin, moist and warm. Opening her eyes, she dialed the number into her phone. It rang four times before going to voice mail.
“Uh, hi. It’s Melody? From the other night? You drove me to the hospital?”
What a stupid thing to say. How many girls did he take to the hospital? Mel slapped her forehead and then dropped her phone on the counter when she clipped the wound. Cursing and hopping, she knocked over the tea and scalded herself and her phone. The burn in her arm matched the flare over her eye. And in the middle of it, her phone was frying.
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.” She picked it up and shook it out. Using the bottom of her shirt, she wiped the tea off and discovered the line was still connected. “Oh, holy shit.” She tapped the disconnect button three times before it actually responded. Letting it clatter on the counter, she backed away from the traitorous device, from the tea, from every embarrassing element.
Here are all the other authors joining me this week:
