Very Truly Sexy

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.