Rhonda Nelson - Show & Tell

He sighed. “As the lady wishes. I suppose we should head to the common room for the Welcome Brunch.”

Savannah nodded. Without further comment, the two of them exited the room and, with Knox’s hand at her elbow, they made their way down a long wide hall back to the foyer and then into what had been dubbed the common room. A long table piled with food sat off to the side of the enormous room and little sofas and armchairs were grouped together to encourage idle chitchat. Savannah’s stomach issued a hungry growl, propelling her toward the food.

“Hungry, are you?” Knox queried.

“Ravenous.”

“I offered to share my peanuts with you,” he reminded teasingly.

Savannah grunted. “I wasn’t about to partake of your ill-gotten gains.”

Knox chuckled, a deep silky baritone that made her very insides quiver. Jeez, the man had cornered the market when it came to sex appeal. It was the same sort of intimate laugh she assumed he’d share with a lover. Something warm and quivery snaked through her at the thought.

“I simply flirted a little, Savannah. It’s not like I raped and pillaged. Honestly, have you not ever batted your lashes and tried to get out of a speeding ticket?”

“No,” she lied as she selected a wedge of cheese and a few crackers.

He chuckled again. “Liar.”

“That’s different,” she said simply for the sake of disagreeing with him, which she did a lot. “And it’s Barbie, you idiot. Do you want to blow our cover from the get-go?”

“Whatever.” He paused. “Oh, look, our host and hostess have arrived.”

Savannah turned and her gaze landed on an older couple—early to middle fifties, she guessed. Bare feet peeked from beneath the hems of their long white robes. The woman wore her completely silver hair in a long flowing style that slithered over her shoulders and stopped at the small of her back. Silver charms glittered from her wrists and a large, smooth lavender stone lay suspended between her breasts via a worn leather cord. This woman seemed to embody everything their glossy pamphlet proclaimed. Serenity, harmony and all those other adverbs that had been touted in the trendy brochure.

As for the man, a calm strength seemed to hover about him as well. He appeared relaxed yet confident, as though he was the only stud for his mare. A niggle of doubt surfaced as Savannah studied the two. Could the art of tantric sex really be all this couple claimed it was? Quite honestly, it seemed impossible to Savannah, but for the first time since she’d accepted that she’d be working on this story with Knox, Savannah wondered if she’d been too hasty in forming her opinions.

The man smiled. “Welcome. I’m Dr. Edgar Shea and this is my lovely wife and life partner, Dr. Rupali Shea. We’re so glad that you’re here.” He paused. “Some of you are here as a result of frustration, some of you are here as a result of your partner’s prodding, and some of you are here because you’re simply curious.” His grin made an encore appearance. “Regardless of why you are here, we’re exceedingly glad and are looking forward to teaching you everything we’ve learned about the art of tantric lovemaking. What we will teach you, what we’ll freely share and will graphically demonstrate for your benefit, will change your lives…if you are open to the possibilities.”

“At the beginning of each session,” Rupali began, “we like to do a little preliminary test, to see for ourselves just how much ground we need to cover, to see which couples will require one-on-one instruction.” She paused and smiled to the room at large. “Now don’t look frightened. It’s a simple test. But first we’ll introduce ourselves and share our inadequacies. No embarrassment, no boundaries,” she said. “Only truth healing.”

Savannah and Knox shared a look of dread. She almost felt sorry for him, but quickly squelched the sentiment. This was a hell of his own making. He could burn with humiliation for all she cared. The couples around them looked as miserable as she and Knox and that made Savannah feel marginally better. As she listened, one man admitted chronic masturbation as his problem. There were a couple of other women delegated to the frigid-and-couldn’t-reach-climax list, and even more men who embarrassingly mumbled impotency as their major handicap.

Rupali beamed at them when they were finished. “Now, for the test.” She paused again, garnering everyone’s attention with the heavy silence. She steepled her fingers beneath her chin. “Do any of you know what the most intimate act between lovers is?” she asked. “I’m sure that all of you are thinking about intercourse, or possibly oral sex…but you’d be wrong. It’s kissing. Kissing requires more intimacy than any other facet of lovemaking. And that will be your test. You will embrace your partner and kiss, and Edgar and I will observe.” She beamed at them. “See, that’s easy enough.”

Savannah heard several audible sighs resonate around the room, but hers and Knox’s weren’t among them. Kissing? Kiss Knox? In front of all these people? Right now? Knox seemed to be equally astounded, as he wore a frozen smile on his face. Panic ping-ponged through her abdomen, the blood rushed to her ears and every bit of moisture evaporated from Savannah’s mouth.

Knox drew her to him, anchored his powerful arms about her back and waist. Longing ignited a fire of need in her belly. “Quit looking like she’s just issued a death sentence,” he hissed through a brittle smile. “We’re supposed to be married, remember?”

Savannah made the mistake of looking up into his dark green eyes and felt need balloon below her belly button. An involuntary shiver danced up her spine and camped at her nape. Oh, hell. She was doomed. “Right,” she said breathlessly.

“It’s just a kiss,” he said unsteadily. “We can handle it.”

“On my count,” Rupali trilled. “Three, two, one…kiss!”

With equal parts anticipation and anxiety, Savannah’s eyes fluttered shut as Knox’s warm lips descended to hers. The exquisite feel of his lips slanting over hers instantly overwhelmed her and she swallowed a deep sigh of satisfaction as his taste exploded on her tongue. He tasted like soda and peanuts and the faint flavor of salt clung to his lips. And oh, mercy, could he kiss. Savannah whimpered.

His kiss was firm yet soft and he suckled and fed at her mouth until Savannah’s legs would scarcely support her. Oh, how many times had she dreamed of this? How many times had she imagined his mouth hungrily feeding at hers, his built-like-a-brick-wall body wrapped around hers? With a groan of pure delight, she pressed herself even more firmly against him and felt her nipples tingle and pearl. A similar experience commenced between her thighs as her feminine muscles dewed and tightened. Their tongues played a game of seek and retreat, and for every parlay, Savannah grew even more agitated, more needy. Knox tightened his hold around her, and she felt his hand slide from the small of her back and cup her bottom. Another blast of desire detonated, sending a bright flash of warmth zinging through her blood.

From the dimmest recesses of her mind, Savannah realized that the room had grown ominously quiet. She reluctantly dragged her lips away from Knox’s and laid her head against his rapidly rising chest.

Edgar and Rupali Shea grinned broadly at them. Their eyes twinkled knowingly. “Clearly Knox and Barbie have passed our little test with glowing marks and no one-on-one instruction will be required.”

A titter of amusement resonated around the room.

Savannah’s cheeked blazed and it took every ounce of willpower not to melt out of Knox’s embrace. She extricated herself with as much dignity as she could muster, considering she’d all but lashed her legs about his waist and begged him to pump her amid a room of confessed sexually challenged spectators.