Excerpt Smut by Karina Halle

Jul 292019
 

Smut by Karina Halle

When I first met Blake Crawford, all I wanted to do was hit him in the face.
Maybe the groin.
Okay, maybe I wanted to kiss him too, but that’s neither here nor there. I mean, he may have a gorgeous English accent, sexy full lips and an ass I’d like to bite but…
Where was I?
Right.
Being in the same creative writing class, he’s the last person I wanted to speak to, let alone be paired up with for my final assignment.
But here comes the kicker…not only did our project end up getting us both As but we found out we work well together.
Really well together.
I hate him and he hates me and yet we churn out gold.
We’ve started writing self-published erotica under a pen name and let me tell you one thing…
Writing dirty sex scenes with the sexiest, most infuriating man you know is a lot harder than you think.
And keeping our hands off each other?
Well that’s another story…one with an ending I didn’t see coming.

Smut is a standalone, tongue-in-cheek romantic comedy from the NYT bestselling author of The Pact.

Excerpt Smut by Karina Halle

She holds my gaze for a moment and something passes over her. Regret, maybe. Then she nods. “Sit down. Let’s work.”
And so we do. And for the first time in a long time, it’s strained. I’m about to suggest maybe we need the Estonian vodka anyway when she lets out an exasperated sigh over something she’s reading.
It happens to be something I wrote.
“What?” I ask, wondering what I did wrong.
She gives me the are you kidding me? look. “Okay, I was ignoring it earlier but I think you need to get a grip on some of this shit. This simply does not happen.”
“Explain, please.”
“I just think it’s unrealistic for there to be so much talking, let alone the fact that the first time they do it it’s in a public place.”
“Too much talking?”
“Yeah.” she scans over the document. “You know, give me your cock, oh you feel so good, harder, harder, you’re so big, fuck me harder big boy.”
“Have you even had good sex?” I ask incredulously.
She flinches. “Of course I have. And it’s none of your business.”
“We’re writing about sex. It’s completely my business. I’m not letting you interject your edits based on your personal experiences about sex because believe me, if the sex is good, you’re moaning my name.”
She raises her chin. “Maybe all those girls were faking it.”
Oh, brilliant.
“Excuse me?” I say, hands pressed against the table, nearly getting out of my chair. “You have no idea. I pride myself in giving a girl as many bloody orgasms as she can handle.”
“Bloody orgasms don’t sound like fun,” she jokes softly.
“They can be if you’re into knife play,” I tell her, even though that’s not exactly what I meant. Still, she scrunches up her nose. “Don’t knock it until you try it, but that’s neither here nor there. When you were with Alan, he must have made you come at least a few times.”
If he didn’t, I feel like finding the guy and showing him a thing or two for wasting four years of her life.
“Yeah,” she says flatly.
“And in the middle of that orgasm, didn’t you want to yell a few things?”
“Sometimes.”
“And why didn’t you?”
She looks at her nails as if they’re suddenly fascinating. “It didn’t seem right. It was…too intimate. I would have felt dumb. He didn’t like any of that stuff.”
The plot thickens. “Any of what stuff?”
“Sex that didn’t involve the missionary position or the bed.”
My mouth drops open. My brain and penis can’t compute this. “I feel so sorry for you.”
We must remedy this.
She glares at me. “It’s not like I didn’t want to do it. I did. And he did try it. Most of it. But it always went back to the same old.”
I knew it. She’s a nerd on the streets and a freak in the sheets.
“I don’t mean to brag,” I tell her in all seriousness. “But you do realize that I could give you an orgasm in thirty seconds.”
Her eyes widen. I can’t tell if she’s horrified or intrigued. “I don’t believe you and I don’t want you to try.”
She’s not getting it. I frown, trying to explain. “If you’re having good sex and it’s with someone you’re comfortable with, you won’t worry about holding back. You’ll cry out all the nonsense you want, you’ll make noises like a pig and scream like you’re on fire because you truly can’t have a good orgasm unless you’re letting go on all accounts.” I lean back in my chair and study her, running my fingers along my jaw. “I would venture that every time you came with your ex, you were only experiencing half of what you should have been. How is it with your vibrators?”
I expect her to tell me to fuck off, that I’m getting too personal but to my surprise she gives me a small smile. “It’s better. But I do have a roommate with exceptionally good hearing.” She clears her throat. “Anyway, so I guess I’m wrong. The heroine can make all the noise she wants.”
“And have first time sex in public.”
“I don’t know…”
“Believe me, when you finally get a chance to fuck, you don’t care where it is. That’s why I always have a condom in my pocket. And the more public the sex, the sneakier you have to be, the hotter it is.”
“But in the book you would never get caught.”
“You don’t always get caught in real life too.”
I can see she wants to ask me where I’ve done it but she loses her nerve. “Okay.” She looks back to the document. “I accept defeat.”
But I don’t want her to. I want to prove to her I’m right and not have her take my word.
Is there a non-creepy way to show her just how amazing good sex can feel? I’m thinking not.
Or…maybe there is.

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