Friendly Persuasion

Ross stopped her from pushing his pants to the floor so he could take something out of his pocket—a short strip of condoms. Bless him for his thoughtfulness.

“I’m on the Pill,” she said. “And healthy.”

“I’m good,” he said, returning the condoms to his pocket before he let his pants fall.

“I’m sure you are,” she said, her gaze drawn down his body to his erection. She glanced up at his face.

“For you,” he said. “I am this way for you.”

She grasped him gently.

He groaned, gripping her upper arm, his fingers digging in. “You make me crazy,” he said, his voice hoarse with need.

“You mean loco,” she murmured, sliding her hand along the solid length of him, loving the way he quaked at her touch. “And that’s what I want—to make you crazy in both your languages.” That was a very sexy thing to say, she realized, liking Katherine a lot.

Then Ross released her arms and slid his palms slowly down her arms and across her hips, his touch so light he barely made contact with her skin. He skimmed the surface of her pubic hair, setting the nerve endings there on fire. He was teasing her, and she couldn’t stand it.

“Touch me, please,” she said, pushing herself toward him. His fingers slid in and oh, so lightly brushed her clitoris. Liquid gushed from her and she feared she’d climax before she got to feel him inside her.

As if he’d read her mind, he lifted her off her feet and set her gently on the table beside the mirror, the cool marble a delicious shock to her thighs, and teased her with the tip of his penis.

She automatically wrapped her legs around his waist as if this were the most natural position in the world instead of something completely new to her. She tried to pull him into her.

“Slowly, sweetheart. Let’s make this last.” He turned so they could see themselves in the mirror. “Look at us,” he whispered.

She looked. The sight was erotic and illicit—as if they were voyeurs to their own ecstasy. As she watched, Ross lowered his mouth to suck her left nipple. The sight set her on fire and the sweet tightness made her gasp. She threw back her head, afraid she would explode or scream or pass out.

“Is this good?” he asked her. “Does this feel good?”

“Oh…it…oh…it’s so…” She could only gasp single syllables.

“Good,” he said, triumph in his voice. He pushed into her, millimeter by exquisite millimeter.

“Please, more,” she moaned, not caring what she said as long as she got more of him.

He moved faster, his body trembling with urgency as he thrust deeper and harder.

“Oh, oh, oh,” she gasped. Now and then she caught sight of them in the mirror—her knees spread, breasts swollen and tight-tipped, his buttocks rippling as he thrust into her—powerful, yet needy, too.

Then his speed quickened even more. He moaned, then slammed into her and exploded, the spasm bringing on her own climax. She cried out, writhing and twisting while he pumped into her for long, glorious seconds. When it was over, she sagged against him, tucking her face into his neck. “That was amazing,” she breathed.

“Yeah,” he said, then, almost as an afterthought, “señorita.”

She smiled into his neck.

He slid out of her body, then hugged her in a familiar way. Uh-oh. She became abruptly aware that she’d just had sex with her friend Ross. She slid to the floor, embarrassed. “I’d better go,” she said, and kissed him on the cheek.

She grabbed the puddle of silk and lace—her dress and teddy—from the floor and rushed into the bathroom to dress. When she came out, Ross was sitting up in the bed, beautiful and tan against the white sheets.

“Why don’t you stay?” he said. “We have the room all night.” His expression promised even more sensual delights.

But that would spoil the illusion. Like Cinderella before the clock sounded midnight, she had to get away before reality sank in. She slipped on her shoes and shook her head. “That would be too much. You gave me exactly what I needed.”

“I’m glad.”

“You were perfect—a perfect stranger.”

He saluted her. “I aim to please.” But that was too Ross, so he added, “Adiós, cara mía.”

“Adiós, Miguel, mi amor,” she said with a grin.

All the way home, she felt invigorated. She couldn’t believe that was her with her legs around Ross’s hips, crying out wildly for more. Just like one of Ross’s women. She’d never had sex like that in her life—reveling in her body, watching herself move and moan. And sitting on a table? Omigod. She would have thought it would be too awkward. But nooo. With Ross it was graceful and perfect.

She tested herself. Did she feel she was falling in love? Not at all. She felt sensual and confident and relaxed and wonderful. It had been just the way Tina described it—two people sharing physical pleasure. It didn’t have to be love.

Except, what would happen when she saw Ross at S&S for their noon game of spades? It could be really, really weird. Or really, really funny. Or really, really hot. She had no idea which.

She knew one thing—she’d split the hotel bill with him. She’d checked the rate on the way out. Three hundred dollars was too much for Ross to spend on a favor to a friend. Luckily, she knew that he was an extravagant guy without a thrifty impulse in his soul. Otherwise, she might have to wonder if there was more to this mystery date than was good for either of them.

4

“ABSO-FRIGGIN’-LUTELY amazing,” Tina said after Kara had described the events at the Hyatt the night before. They were in the coffee room where Kara was drinking a double-bagger of Earl Grey because she could barely keep her eyes open. She’d lain awake all night reliving her Latin lover adventure.

“It was amazing,” Kara said wistfully. “Only I don’t know what to say to him now. He saw me…you know…like that.”

“Like what? With your head thrown back, eyes rolling, sweating and moaning like a beast? Like that?”

“No, better than that. I was really, really sexy.” The memory made her blush. “And today I’m going to have to ask the guy whose hips I wrapped my legs around last night to quit belching the lyrics of songs over the office intercom.”

Tina opened the refrigerator for what Kara knew to be her usual morning pilfering. “God, nothing in here but Sampson’s peanut-butter celery that he never eats.” She emerged with a piece of it.

“Could I get some help here?” Kara said, calling her friend back to her problem.

“Just act normal,” Tina answered, waving the stalk in the air. “You have a double life. Last night you were an exotic stranger and he was Don Juan. Today you’re back to being a repressed account exec and he’s an overgrown kid who collects comic books.”

“I guess so. And last night did the trick. I can definitely see how sex without love works.”

“Poof!” Tina said, pretending to tap Kara’s head with her celery wand. “You’re sexually liberated.”

“It was nice of Ross to do that for me, don’t you think?”

“He got something out of the deal, too,” Tina said, then gave Kara a speculative look. “You’re not making too much of this, are you? No urge to register at Macy’s or anything?”

“Of course not. This was a one-time thing.” Except all she’d done for the past ten hours was relive the event and long for more. “So, you say, just act like nothing happened?”

“Exactly.”

She sipped her tea, clutching the warm mug with her nervously cold palms. “Speaking of nothing happening, how did it go with Tom last night?”