скачать книгу бесплатно
He shrugged. “It depends on the woman and the situation.”
“No tired lines, right, like, ‘Did it hurt much when you fell out of heaven’?”
“Hell, no. That’s for amateurs.” He winked, clearly teasing her. “The first line is just to break the ice. It should be funny or intriguing and certainly not sexual.”
“Too offensive, right?”
“Exactly. And the first line isn’t make-or-break. It’s the second line that counts. By the second line, you’ve got a conversation on your hands.”
“Oh, very true.” She wished she could flip on her tape recorder, or at least take notes. “So, how do you figure out what to talk about in that conversation?”
“It varies. Say I’m at the airport and I see a woman I want to get to know. I might ask her about the book she’s reading, or how she likes her laptop, whatever seems natural. Assuming I’m not intruding. You pick up the vibe if someone would rather enjoy her privacy than talk.”
“I see what you mean.” That would be her he was talking about—the woman giving off privacy vibes. Except even she might succumb to AJ’s overtures. Something about him made her feel comfortable, as if she’d known him for years, instead of moments.
“Okay, here’s something I’m curious about…” She paused, wondering if she dared ask the question flashing in her head. Oh, what the hell. “How often do these encounters lead to more? A date…and um…?”
“You mean sex?” He grinned again. “Depends on the chemistry, on how we both feel.” His smile faded and he became thoughtful. “Lately, not often, to tell you the truth. I’ve been traveling a lot and just haven’t been that interested.”
“I can imagine.” Darn. That meant tonight would be just talking. But that was good, too. She had something for her column, at least—“pickup lines and possibilities.” But would that be racy enough to dazzle Will and the VP at Man’s Man?
“Until I saw you and your kitty barrette, that is,” AJ said, startling her. “You’ve got me very interested.”
“I do? You are?” Little, fizzy sparklers began to sting her stomach. She took a big gulp of her drink to put them out. Except the drink was nastily sweet. She made a face.
“Try this.” AJ handed over his Scotch.
She took a swallow, but it was too much and too strong and she choked.
He leaned across the table to pat her back. “You okay? I didn’t mean to shock you.”
She nodded, gasping for air. “F-fine.”
“You like people to be direct, right? To say what they mean?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I want to take you to bed, Beth.”
Her entire body went electric. She couldn’t believe her luck. She’d not only met a hot man in a bar, but also not fifteen minutes into the conversation, he’d asked her to sleep with him. This was way easier than even Sara had said. She must have stepped into some magic wish-fulfillment time warp. The Em Zone. Maybe the universe wanted her to keep her column.
“Beth?” AJ said. “You okay?”
“Yes. Very. I’m better than okay. So, you want to…?”
“Take you to bed? Very much. So, are you interested?” His eyes flared with heat.
Even though she hadn’t even dreamed she’d get this far, she’d come prepared. At Sara’s suggestion, she had a pre-pasted travel toothbrush and a selection of condoms—ribbed, flavored and ultrathin—in her handbag.
Even more amazing, she did want this man, with his intense eyes and easy smile, square jaw and warm hands. Her whole body lifted with the pleasurable possibility of being with him. It wasn’t because of her sex column or Sara’s challenge, either. She just wanted him. From somewhere deep inside, where she wasn’t nervous or embarrassed or clumsy. Where she knew what she wanted and why, and exactly how to get it.
But could she do it? It could be a disaster. Awkward and awful. Or it could be heaven.
“If this isn’t a good time, don’t feel pressured,” AJ said, seeming to pick up on her doubts. “I’m just telling you that I’m available. And you should know that you could crook your finger and get every unmarried guy in here—and some of the married ones—into your bed or anywhere else you wanted them.”
“That’s kind of you.” The man had managed to read and erase her doubts in one sentence. She wanted to kiss him in gratitude.
“It’s all true.”
How could she pass up a man like this? A chance like this? She wasn’t a coward or a quitter. She was going for it, dammit.
“Actually, AJ, I think I am interested. I would like to, um, go to, uh, bed with you. I think.” Her face flamed.
“You sound like you just accepted a dangerous assignment.” His eyes twinkled at her, inviting her to loosen up. “As always, Mr. Phelps, should you or any of your IM Force be caught or killed, the Secretary will disavow any knowledge of your actions.”
She laughed. “Like I said, I haven’t dated in a while. And meeting a man like this and…pursuing something so fast…well…it’s just…”
“I’m out of practice, too, if that makes you feel better.”
Out of practice? She’d never done it. But she wasn’t about to admit that. At least not right off the bat. “So, good then. We’re together on this.” She bit her lip. “So I guess now we should go up to your room?”
AJ covered both her hands with his, his hot palms suffusing her with warmth, and met her gaze. “Let’s finish our drinks, Beth, and talk a little more, then see what we feel like.”
“But you think we’ll feel like going upstairs?” She liked to have a plan.
He considered her question in mock seriousness. “Maybe we’d better be certain. So we don’t waste our time.”
He moved out of his seat and came to sit beside her on the banquette. He took her face in his palms and kissed her. She was stunned. Motionless with the thrill of it. His lips were gentle and he took his time, touching the seam of her lips with the tip of his tongue in a friendly coax. I’m here with more if you want.
She moved her tongue to barely touch his, relishing the taste and softness. Her sex began a steady pulse that made her want to squirm. A shudder passed through her body and she closed her eyes. This man understood the pleasures of a good kiss.
AJ slid his fingers into the hair at the sides of her head and turned her face at a different angle. She breathed in his cologne—something elegant that seemed natural on him.
After a delicious minute of sliding lips, touching tongues and exchanging hot breath, AJ released her. “Well?” he asked. “Think we’re going to want to go upstairs later?”
She slowly opened her eyes. Was he kidding? She was melting like a frozen margarita on a tongue. “Uhhuh,” she managed.
“Maybe we should be positive,” he said and leaned in for another kiss. There was more suction this time. His lips tugged and pulled at hers, massaging them with a hypnotic, back-and-forth rhythm. He moved with care, as if he sensed her skittishness, but his breath rasped in her ears, so she knew he was as aroused as she was.
Her entire body seemed to warm and loosen, as if she’d been frozen solid and was now thawing out all over this man, dripping onto the banquette and the floor beneath them.
She moved closer, wanting to crawl into his lap, her mind hazy, but she bumped the table. The rattle of glasses reminded her that they were in a crowded bar, making a spectacle of themselves. She broke off the kiss and looked into his blue eyes, which gleamed with heat. “Let’s go upstairs,” she said in a rush of lust.
But he might assume too much. “For privacy, I mean. So we can do this some more.” Maybe they’d go further, maybe they wouldn’t. All she knew was that here was her column, her man, her moment. Em’s moment.
AJ climbed out of the booth and gave her his hand to help her slide out. She wobbled a little—a combination of arousal and high heels—and he pulled her tight against his body. “You okay? You’re not acting faint just to make me feel manly, are you? Because of that tiki drink remark?”
“It’s just the heels,” she said, not wanting to let on how weak-kneed he’d made her. She felt safe with him. She trusted her instincts on that, though her self-defense training gave her extra confidence if those instincts proved off-kilter.
She knew her only danger was from her own nerves. Sara did this kind of thing all the time. So could Em.
They walked across the lobby and in seconds were riding the elevator to his room. Hotel bars were the perfect place to meet men if you tended to jitter, she realized. Just say the word and you were in their room. No time for second thoughts.
They swooshed upward, alone in the elevator, AJ’s eyes hot on her body. His hands slid up and down her sides, bunching up her dress, exposing her thigh to the air. Everywhere he touched went liquid with heat. Out of the elevator, she Jell-O-walked her way to his room, grateful for his arm around her waist keeping her upright.
He key-carded the door and guided her inside. The room was impersonally elegant. Cherry wood faux antiques and naturalist watercolors surrounded the centerpiece of the room—a huge, pillow-top sleigh bed, where they would soon be engaged in, gulp, intimacy. No, sex. Beth got intimate. Em had sex.
AJ led her to the bed in question, where she sat, nervously running her fingers across its quilted expanse. He went to turn on the stand-up lamp, then flung open the night blind and sheers to reveal a sparkling view of the city. He tossed off his jacket, then returned to help her to her feet and into his arms, pleasurable anticipation on his face.
Her courage failed her for a second. What if he expected her to be good? Her purse had gotten trapped between their chests, and that reminded her of what it held. “I, um, have protection. Three kinds, depending on your preference—ultrathin, ribbed or flavored.”
His eyes twinkled. “Let’s make that lady’s choice.”
“Oh. Right. Okay.” She’d decided to do this in a haze of lust, but now she’d have to face the awkward newness, the fact they were strangers. All she knew was that he kissed well.
“I’m glad you’re prepared,” AJ said, clearly trying to calm her. “The use-by date is long expired on whatever I have in my toiletry kit.” He studied her face. “It’s just us here, Beth. We can stop anytime. You’re in charge.”
“Right. Good,” she said, releasing a shuddery breath. “I have to use the bathroom.”
Mostly, she needed to calm down, figure out how she’d gone from barely being able to listen to Sara describe an orgasm to waltzing into a stranger’s hotel room ready to leap into the sack with him.
Had her column made her bold? Or was it something about AJ? Or was Em just ready to step out? Em might be ready, but the woman who’d just ducked into the hotel bathroom was Beth all the way.
3
YOU CAN DO THIS, Beth told herself, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. You have to, if you want to keep your column. The situation couldn’t be more ideal, really. AJ was the perfect guy for her first adventure in the wild world of easy sex—confident and comfortable with himself, he’d sensed her uncertainty and knew how to reassure her. Plus, he was from out of town, so he wouldn’t ever see the magazine and figure out he was in it. She would disguise him, of course, but some guys got funny about even anonymous exposure, judging from Rick’s reaction.
AJ was perfect. She was the problem. She just had to turn herself into Em for the next couple of hours. To gear up, she took her notepad from her purse and jotted a few Em-worthy observations.
Broad shoulders…smile as spicy as a crantini…fresh pickup line: Is this your pen? What did he say about the second line being more important than the first? Note: Hotel bars ease transition to intimacy. Just an elevator ride to ecstasy…
Except, now here she was, hiding in the bathroom, shivering on the edge of the bathtub.
She took a deep, cleansing breath and blew it out slowly. It’s just us here, Beth. You’re in charge. Maybe they would just make out for a while and call it a night, and she could write about hot first kisses.
She had to get moving. She’d been in here long enough to shower and put on makeup. Or at least undress. Lord. What if he thought she was taking off her clothes? Would he be naked when she got out?
She had the urge to call Sara for advice, but stopped herself. In the mirror, she looked into the pale face and shiny eyes of a nervous woman. How had she gotten into this mess?
“Beth…you okay?” AJ called to her from outside the door.
That was how. AJ’s voice made her melt, despite her fears. “F-fine,” she said. You can do this. Be the sensualist you truly are. She slid her purse strap over her shoulder, took a determined breath, faked a smile and opened the door.
AJ still had his clothes on, thank God, though he’d slipped off his shoes and socks. Jeez, he even had sexy feet. He peeled her purse strap off her shoulder and tossed her bag onto a nearby chair so he could pull her into his arms. His warmth worked through her nervous chill like a hot bath.
“I guess I’m a little jumpy,” she said.
“It’s all right,” he said. “You seem to be pushing yourself into this. We can go slow. Or just kiss. Whatever you want. No pressure.” He kissed her again, as slowly as he’d said, and she got that melting margarita feeling again.
He was so easy to be with. If she forgot herself for a second, she could just move into this moment and really enjoy it. She spread her fingers against his back, loving how broad and sturdy he seemed. Their tongues tangled, danced, traded places, explored, rocking with the same rhythm as before. This was familiar. This worked. If they stuck with this she’d be just fine.
Then he reached down and cupped her bottom with both hands, hugging her against his hardness, sending shock waves throughout her lower body. Okay, maybe they should try more than kissing.
He broke away from her mouth, still holding her snugly against him. “Are you okay?” he asked, his gaze hazy with arousal.
“Okay? Oh, yeah,” she said. She was more than okay. She loved feeling his need against her stomach. With Blaine, an erection had meant, I’m ready. With AJ, it said, Look what you do to me.
He lowered his mouth to hers again, his tongue more insistent this time. She opened wider, the way she wanted to open her body to him. He tasted of smoky liquor and sweet flesh, and smelled of his elegant cologne. She wondered how his skin would feel, how his chest would look. And down there…how would that be?
Kissing like this, holding AJ and being held by him, made the impersonal room seem intimate. She felt safe and desirable and right. Even better, the embrace seemed to erase the bad memories of Blaine, like an Etch A Sketch shaken clear of a bad drawing.
She would make sure her column captured this—the magic of a first time with the right man.
AJ’s hands slid upward from her butt, lifting her dress, exposing her thighs all the way to the tops of the lacy bands of the thigh-high nylons she’d worn. Then he moved his hands to the front of her dress. The bottom half dropped down, warm against her thighs, just as he cupped her breasts through her bodice.
Hot lust shot through her so swiftly she had to catch her breath. She broke off the kiss.
“Too fast?” he asked, searching her face as if she were some fragile creature who might run, or faint. She didn’t want to be fragile. She wanted to be bold.
“No. You’re perfect. Keep it up. Please.”
He smiled, then brushed her nipples softly. They tightened in response, sending electricity through her. She had to touch him, too, she realized, to give him the kind of pleasure he was giving her. As best she could, she grasped him through his pants.
He felt thick and long, and she had a fleeting thought that he would be too much for her. But he would be careful, she knew already because of how sensitive he seemed to be to her reactions. He would take it slow, make sure she was comfortable.
Then he surprised her by sliding his hand down her body and putting one finger gently against her cleft. He was right on target, and it took her breath away. Her parts seemed to loosen and swell, ache and dissolve, all at the same time. Her legs trembled and she thought she might swoon like some Victorian virgin in whalebone. “Let’s get…in…bed,” she managed to say.
If only they could whisk themselves there and clothes would disappear without any jiggling or tangling or hip-hopping out of panties.
AJ stopped touching her and held her gaze. “You sure?”
She nodded. “Just close your eyes while I change.” She was too modest to strip with him watching her.
“Don’t ever change,” he joked, but he closed his eyes.
That gave her a second to look at his face again—the strong brows and cheekbones, deep tan, the golden bristle emerging from his skin, his lush mouth with its knowing smile. Wow. And he was about to make love to her.
“No peeking now,” she said.
“You’re beautiful, Beth.”
“Humor me,” she said, and wobbled over to turn off the lamp, then punch off the entry light. She would definitely skip this part in her column—this dashing around, ripping off clothes while he hid his eyes, like some demented game of hide-and-seek.
She shook off her shoes, unzipped her dress and shoved it down, rolling her panties and the tops of her hose down along with the dress. Last, she unclipped her bra and took it off.
“Ready or not?” he teased.
“Not.” She shot a glance at him, crossing her arms over her naked breasts. His eyes remained closed, though he was grinning.
