Ryan smiles. “How about the one you’re writing now?” He strolls over to my desk and picks up the new steamy chapter I printed out only this morning. He flips through the pages with his thumb until he slows down to skim a particular section. “Last chance to admit I’m right, Sullivan.”

I shake my head, feeling more determined than ever to test the boundaries.

“Here we go, then.” He walks into my bedroom, still holding the pages. I slowly follow and find him standing beside the bed. I close the gap between us until I’m two feet away. He hands me the manuscript, pointing to the top of the page. “Start reading.”

I look at him for several moments before my gaze falls to the paper. The words seem jumbled until they gradually begin to take form.

“‘Robert turned the key and locked the door...’” My words trail off as I peek up to see Ryan watching me through hazy eyes. He steps forward and around me, walking over to the door, pushing it closed. The space around us seems significantly smaller as he returns to his spot across from me. Less air. More heat. I feel trapped but in such a good way. I look back down at the page and continue.

“‘Charlotte stretched and arched her supple body across his bed, gripping the satin sheets in unbridled anticipation.’”

Ryan steps closer, slicing the distance between us in half. “It sounds like only one of us should be standing.” His eyes go from the papers in my hand to the bed.

Having no idea what I just said, I look down and reread the last line. Charlotte stretched and arched her supple body across his bed, gripping the satin sheets in unbridled anticipation.

I had to write unbridled anticipation, right?

Okay. It is officially game on.

I take the couple of steps needed to reach my bed and sit down on the mattress. I can’t let him win. I won’t. I slide back and lie back, holding the pages above me as I pick up where I left off.

“‘Robert moved towards her...’”

Ryan clears his throat.

“What?” I ask, lowering the pages.

“Aren’t you supposed to be arching and gripping sheets?”

“How can I do that when I’m holding a stack of papers in my hand?”

Ryan actually thinks about it. “You can arch a little bit and still hold the pages. Or you could at least grab the sheet with your other hand.”

“What’s the difference?” I ask.

“The difference is, we said we would see if you could live out what’s in your books, and that’s what’s in the book. Our findings will only be accurate if you fully commit.”

I send him a challenging glance. “Oh, and you’re going to fully commit?”

“Hell yeah,” he says.