Ever get writer's block after completing the first chapter of your story? Me too!
Here's every first chapter for all the various stories currently playing out in my mind.
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"God, you're still as sexy as you were when I first met you," Kit whispers in my ear as he comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder. Starting at me through the mirror, I melt at seeing his dark eyes fixed against mine. To be honest, even after fifteen years of being together, Kit is just as sexy to me as I am to him. With a mischevious grin, dimples showing, his lips press against the sensitive skin between my ear and my shoulder, eyes unmoving from mine. "You know, we could not go to your parents' house."
I roll my eyes at his suggestion simply because I know that he hates being around my mum and sister, Lydia. Ever since he first met Lydia and she tried to put the moves on him, he's kept his distance and as for my mum, she puts far too much pressure on him to propose to me that he freaks out. It's a huge disappointment to her that despite us being together for so long, Kit and I are unmarried and we have no desire to have a child just yet. Mum groans and likes to remind me that I have a biological clock and that time is ticking away but if I'm being honest, children just aren't my thing. Anyway, Lyra's two little ones are enough. I'm Aunt Lyanna, the cool one that flies in, spoils them for every day I'm here, and then I fly back out to Los Angeles.
The thing with Kit and I is this: we're far too work orientated to be parents. With our architect, design and construction business finally thriving, as well as our side project of flipping houses being profitable, we have neither the time nor the commitment to have a kid. The sacrifices you have to make to be a mum is something I'm not ready to give up; late night dinners, morning sex, the fact that I can grab my passport and fly off, these are all factors against me having a baby. Kit, if it's at all possible, is worse than me. As if he'd give up his man cave to make way for a playroom.
"Kit-"
"Just think about it," he whispers as his hand moves south, dipping below the band of my pyjamas. I yelp when he nips my earlobe. "We could stay here and have very, very dirty sex."
Despite being weak at the knees at his proposal because trust me, there is nothing I love more than pinning him to a bed and screwing his brains out, I manage to push him away and tell him to behave. We're only in London for a few days before we head off to the Isle of Wight to visit his family, so we should probably do just that: visit our families.
