Writing A Wrong (Write Stuff #2) Read online

  WRITING A WRONG

  A Write Stuff Novel

  Tiffany King

  www.authortiffanyjking.blogspot.com

  Copyright

  Edited by Hollie Westring

  All rights reserved. Published by A.T. Publishing LLC

  Copyright © 2014 by Tiffany King

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Table of Contents

  WRITING A WRONG

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  The Wedding

  More New Adult titles by Tiffany King

  About Tiffany King

  Where to connect with Author Tiffany

  Acknowledgments

  To Hollie Westring. I love you for your editing skills, but even more for your friendship.

  Chapter 1

  "Sophie, please, why are you doing this? You know I love you."

  "Love?" I shrilled, willing my voice not to shake. "You dare call this love?" After everything we had been through together, I could hardly believe he would choose to treat my heart with such ill regard that he would shred it to insignificant pieces.

  He sighed heavily, raking a hand through the long coal-black locks that always fell across his forehead. I loved running my fingers through that hair—the silky curls that captured my attention when I first laid eyes on him at Jeanette's debutant ball. His rugged good looks had every girl in a tizzy that night when he showed up alone and yet, he had set his sights on me. With eyes as intoxicating as fine wine, I became drunk and enchanted by his charm. Now I would no longer succumb to the allure of Clinton St. Claire. "My darling, this is most definitely love," he murmured, taking a brash step toward me.

  I backed away, raising my hands to maintain distance between us. If his eyes were intoxicating, then his touch was like a magician's hypnotic spell. "Don't touch me!" My betraying voice trembled, making my demand much less resolute.

  He continued forward, stalking me like I was his prey."My love, it's not what you think."

  Glaring at him, I straightened my spine and raised my hand, striking him soundly across the face. How dare he defend his cheating actions to me. Did he think I was ignorant; too naïve to see what was going on right in front of my eyes?

  "Are you kidding me? Clinton cheated on Sophie?" Alec's strident voice broke the silence in the room, making me practically leap from my chair.

  My laptop would have launched into the air if not for my quick reflexes. "Holy shit, don't sneak up on me like that! I didn't even hear you come in. You scared the bejesus out of me." Clutching my heart that was threatening to beat out of my chest, I twisted around in my chair, glaring up at Alec, who looked truly pissed.

  "Why would Clinton cheat on her?" Alec reached over my shoulder, snaking his hand between my arms in an attempt to scroll through my Word document.

  I swatted him away, covering my laptop like a turtle hiding inside its shell. "Hey, just because you live here doesn't give you special privileges. You know I don't like anyone to read my work in progress until I'm completely done. Not even Olivia," I said, hitting the save button and closing the file before he could get any more of a sneak peek.

  I placed the computer on the nearby table and stood up, stretching. The effects of several hours of being slumped over my laptop in a recliner were evident in every screaming joint of my body. "I thought you had lab all day today?" I asked, stifling a yawn, which only further aggravated the crick in my neck.

  "I did. It ended over an hour ago," he said, placing his hands on the back of my neck. His kneading fingers felt heavenly on my unforgiving shoulders.

  "Oh-h-h that feels good," I moaned, letting my head fall forward to give him better access to my sore muscles. "I can't believe I wrote for thirteen straight hours."

  "I still don't know how you do it. I can't sit in a chair for more than a half hour, maybe, before I need to get up and move around. Your neck is stiff as a board."

  "Hmm," I moaned again. "Small price to pay for doing what you love. Besides, the reward is worth it." He continued rubbing in slow smooth circles across my shoulders. The warmth of his hands felt like instant medicine against my skin.

  "Am I right in assuming you neglected to feed yourself today?" We both already knew the answer to his question. He obviously didn't understand the power of being in a writing groove. You don't just stop for something as trivial as food when the words are flowing so well. "I nibbled here and there," I said, knowing my little white lie would never pass his bullshit detector, but I enjoyed teasing him.

  "Uh-huh. Lucky for you, I brought home dinner. Although, I'm not sure you deserve any after maliciously ruining a perfectly good relationship," he grumbled, dropping his hands from my neck.

  It was cute that he got so wrapped up in my stories. I smiled, trailing behind him toward the decadent smells wafting from the takeout bags he'd placed on the counter. I inhaled deeply with appreciation—Chinese food. My favorite. I reached for the bag to extract an eggroll, but Alec snatched it away before I could grab the deep-fried delicacy.

  "Hey, not cool," I complained, reaching again for the bag that he now held above his head.

  "I can't believe you let Clinton cheat on Sophie. How could you do that?" He kept the bag out of reach, waiting for an explanation, but I remained tight-lipped, crossing my arms over my chest. He should have known by now that I could be stubborn too. I was world-class at playing chicken. One time when I was a child on vacation with my family, my brothers and I were in a swimming pool having a contest to see who could hold their breath the longest underwater. I was so intent on winning that I had to be rescued by the lifeguard. The best part was that not only did I win, but my parents blamed the entire incident on my brothers and I got to eat dessert for dinner that night while they watched. It was one of my finest moments and only proved that Alec was way out of his league if he thought I'd give in first.

  "Fine." He placed the bag of food on the counter before turning around to grab a couple of plates.

  "And still undefeated," I whispered, smiling.

  "What?"

  "Nothing. It smells wonderful. Thanks, sweetie."

  "Right." He smirked skeptically before pulling two plates from the cabinet and slamming the door.

  I turned to hide my grin as I grabbed spoons and forks from the cutlery drawer. "Poor baby. You know they're
not real, right?" I teased, spooning fried rice onto my plate.

  He gasped, clutching his chest. "How dare you say that to a reader. They're real to me and everyone else. And I know for a fact that Clinton would never cheat on Sophie."

  "Are you sure about that?" I shot him a look over my shoulder as I carried my plate to the living room. "Guys cheat all the time."

  "Only dickheads cheat on someone they love," he replied.

  I let out a breath I wasn't even aware I was holding.

  Alec walked from the kitchen with his drink and plate in hand, placing them on the coffee table before sitting on the couch to face me. "I'm not a cheater," he said simply.

  I shrugged like it was no big deal, but my heart swooned happily like I'd experienced a slight rush of adrenaline. Maybe I was naïve, but I wanted to believe in love and romance and happily ever after.

  Picking up my plate, I crossed my legs and sat back against the plush couch cushions. "Neither is Clinton," I said, taking a big bite of my egg roll. Alec sputtered, causing me to nearly spit out my bite of food as my mouth spread into a smile.

  "That's it? Oh no. There has to be more." He reached a hand toward me with his eyes twinkling in anticipation. I scooted farther back into the cushions, knowing he was aiming for the ticklish spot on my side. My plate teetered precariously on my lap. I debated using it as a shield, but my stomach would prefer to eat my food rather than wear it. Alec snatched the plate from my hand before I could react, setting it on the table. I tried squirming away, but he had me caged in. "Why does Sophie think he cheated? They're not going to break up are they?" His fingers wagged deviously toward my side, knowing my weakness.

  "Do you really think I'm going to leak any spoilers? I'm like a vault." I giggled as he moved closer. "You'll have to wait like everyone else," I added between bubbles of laughter.

  The glint in his eye sharpened as he leaned over me."Hey, it's one of the perks of dating a New York Times bestseller. I get all the secrets first." His hands reached my side, pulling my shirt up to reveal my sensitive ticklish spot.

  "Really, is that so? I must have missed that in the handbook."

  "Did you miss this too?" He fingers danced subtly up my side until they grazed the sensitive skin on the bottom of my breasts.

  I gasped as my body reacted immediately to his touch. "You're still not getting my secrets."

  "Are you sure? Even if I do this?" He lowered his head, grazing his tongue along my ribcage until my body quivered.

  I closed my eyes and bit my lip, nodding more in approval of what he was doing than answering his question.

  He pulled back abruptly. "Fine. See if you get any more attention from these hands." He picked up his plate and started eating.

  "Oh, big talk. You know I'm only keeping you around for your skills."

  "Too bad, so sad. No spoilers, no magic fingers." He dipped a fried wanton into a small container of sauce that was so good it should have been outlawed.

  I picked up my plate from the table. "You'll cave," I said confidently, shoving a bite of fried rice into my mouth.

  "Care to put your money where your mouth is?"

  My eyes narrowed at the cocky expression on his face. "What do you have in mind?" My luck with wagers had never been stellar. I could bet you the sun would rise in the morning and there would be some kind of freaky solar eclipse that would keep it from happening. My brothers were convinced I was jinxed and always tried trapping me into sucker bets—me being the sucker.

  Alec set his fork down and wagged his fingers. "I bet you'll be begging me for these before I ask about your book again."

  "Let me get this straight. You want to bet against sex? Is that normal?" He had me wondering if we'd already hit that point in our relationship where he could take sex or leave it. It seemed a little soon since we'd only been together for five months, but technically, I had no other experience in the matter.

  "I'm taking a chance, but I'm betting you'll give up within a few hours."

  I shoved his arm, making a piece of sesame chicken fall to his lap. "Oops. Clumsy me. Here, let me get that," I said, allowing my hand to wander between his legs. "You're awfully cocky with this bet, you know. All pun intended. You sure you want to risk this?" I watched his changing expression with amusement as my hand slid purposely between his thighs.

  "Funny, but we'll see who can hold out." He smirked as he shifted in his seat.

  I was tempted to dump his entire plate in his lap if it wouldn't have meant wasting perfectly good Chinese food. Maybe I could do the wanton soup. That wasn't my favorite. So what if I enjoyed sex with him? It wasn't like I was a nympho. I could cut him off cold turkey if I wanted to. "If you're that confident then let's also say you can't use those magic hands on yourself."

  "Total abstinence? Those are big stakes. You sure you're up for that?"

  "I wouldn't have said it otherwise," I proclaimed boldly, although the idea of trying to hold out from even charging my own battery seemed like a daunting task, especially with the way Alec liked to walk around the apartment nude sometimes. I would have to think of a way to tip the odds in my favor. "What's the matter, having second thoughts?"

  "Nope, and when I win I get special reader rights to the entire Wicked Lovely series. Including the work in progress."

  "And what do I get if I win?"

  He looked into the air, pondering something equally valuable before answering."Okay. I'll give you what you've been wanting for months."

  "Seriously?" I held my breath for a moment. He had to really be confident in his ability to win.

  "Scout's honor," he said, holding up his hand.

  "You'll really take me if I win?"

  "Yes."

  "And you won't complain at all?"

  "Not once."

  "What if someone cuts you off?"

  "Not even then."

  "What if I want to get everything there?"

  "Fine."

  "What if I want to go on all the rides over and over again?"

  He grimaced before answering. "Not even if I puke or get run over by a stampede of tourists. No complaints."

  A triumphant grin spread across my face after feeling like I'd covered every possible loophole. "You know there's no way I'm going to lose this bet. You should have never put the Wizarding World of Harry Potter on the table," I crowed digging into my food with gusto.

  "We'll see," he answered, shamelessly winking at me.

  My body practically sprang to life in response to his wink, but I tamped down my desire with thoughts of butterbeer and wizards. "I wouldn't count on it, big boy," I said, seductively licking my lips.

  His shifted to the far end of the couch, placing a throw pillow over his lap.

  Things were about to get interesting.

  Chapter 2

  Olivia sat on the couch, thumbing through emails on her phone while I did a few chores. "How's the sex-off going?"

  "Ugh," I answered, taking out my frustration by angrily spritzing water on the poor plant I had been trying in vain to keep alive. Alec bought it for me a few weeks back, but I so didn't have a green thumb. "It totally sucks. I waited a long time to finally have sex. It seems wrong to have a serious boyfriend and still not be getting any."

  Olivia snorted. "Trust me. It is wrong—on so many levels."

  I gave her a spritz of water for good measure. "No comments from the peanut gallery allowed. It's not like you're getting any right now either. This has to be your longest dry spell ever."

  She flipped me off without looking up from her phone."Don't remind me, whore. I'm ready to dump my dating rules so I can scratch my itch."

  I hobbled toward the couch, trying not to put extra weight on the ankle I had twisted the night before. Placing the water bottle and a few dead leaves from the plant on the coffee table, I lowered myself gingerly before settling against the cushions. "Ready to give the poor saps a fighting chance?" I tossed one of the throw pillows onto the table and lifted my leg up to rest my sore ankle.<
br />
  Olivia picked up a magazine and mindlessly flipped through the pages before answering. "Is it too much to ask to find a guy who wants the same thing as me out of a relationship? I mean, look at this," she said, holding up my Cosmopolitan magazine. "'Ten Ways to Make Your Guy Fall for You and Stay.' Seriously? What if I just want my guy to warm my bed and leave? Where is that article? I don't need a guy to stick around and cuddle, and I'm definitely not going to pick up his nasty boxers off my bathroom floor or clean up his globs of toothpaste in the sink, especially after he stinks up my bathroom while he browses through my magazines."

  I adjusted my sore ankle on the pillow while trying not to laugh. "Well, I have to admit, you're not exactly describing Prince Charming, but you know, it's really not that bad. I wasn't sure what to expect before Alec moved in here but, truthfully, he's tidier than I am. Plus, he feeds me."

  "Hey, I feed you sometimes too, but right now you're not getting any more out of me than you do him."

  I snorted. "Don't make me regret telling you about our bet, slut."

  "But I am right," she said, picking up another magazine.

  "Whatever. It's only a matter of time before he caves."

  Olivia rolled her eyes. "The fact that he hasn't yet shows how little I've taught you. Do I need you to give you another lesson on how to get your man to put out? Seriously, girl. Use your assets."

  I swatted at her. "I don't need a lesson, slutbag. I have a seduction plan in place." Of course, I neglected to mention my first failed attempt from the night before. The plan was for a warm bubble bath where I'd make sure everything was nice and shaved. Then I would innocently call Alec into the bathroom where the mound of foamy bubbles would just barely cover my breasts, followed by an "accidental" nipple slip. What I hadn't counted on was how slick the tub would be from the overabundance of pumpkin spice-scented shower gel I used to make the bubbles. I definitely got Alec's attention, just not the kind I was looking for. My legs slipped out from under me, sending half the water in the tub spilling out on the floor. Alec tore into the bathroom like someone was being murdered when I screeched in pain. The bathroom looked like a crime scene with me sprawled out in the tub with my goods hanging out, a sore tailbone, swollen ankle, and a bruised ego. Not exactly the sexy seduction scene I had painted in my mind.