Vicki Thompson - Talking About Sex...

“I didn’t think that was likely.”

“What, you can’t imagine me with a date?” In truth, she didn’t go out much. Lately it had seemed so pointless. She’d begun to wonder if her sexual drive was diminishing now that she could see thirty in the rearview mirror, but Jess had dynamited that particular theory last night.

“I’m sure you have dates, but I—”

“Damn straight. I have so many guys hanging around I was forced to order date-tracker software last week so I can keep them all straight. I could have been out with one of a number of men tonight, and wouldn’t that have been awkward—to come back home with someone and find you sitting here with all your candles lit, so to speak.”

A smile touched his mouth. “I suppose candles are a phallic symbol, too.”

“Those certainly are. Just look at them. They’re penis-size. They’re even flesh-colored!” And the subliminal message had been working on her ever since she’d laid eyes on them. She’d seen those fat tapers in a mall speciality store. They’d looked erotic at the time, and now, thrown into this Jess mess, they seemed blatantly sexual.

“The minute I saw them I knew you’d think that. That’s why I bought them.”

It occurred to her that he’d had to buy more than the candles, which wouldn’t fit in ordinary holders. He’d been forced to add three wrought-iron candelabra to hold the thick tapers. Then there was the wine. She couldn’t tell for sure but the label looked pricey. And those weren’t her goblets either.

“You went to a lot of trouble and expense,” she said.

He didn’t respond. Instead he simply gazed at her with those brown eyes that had the power to melt the steel barriers she was frantically trying to build around her heart.

She took a deep breath. Cheryl had advised her to take control of the sexual dynamics, to get into bad-girl mode, but Cheryl had no idea how potent Jess could be. Katie was afraid that if she let herself surrender to this campaign even slightly, she’d be swallowed by a wave of sensuality that would rob her of all power.

No, she couldn’t allow herself to be tempted by this man. “I’m afraid all that trouble was for nothing, though. I’ll have to ask you to leave, Jess.”

He stood, and for a minute she thought he might actually walk out the door. She would be relieved if he did that. Of course she would. As she’d told Cheryl, he was too hot to handle. She’d get burned.

But instead of leaving, he came around the coffee table until he was only about three feet away. Candlelight played over the strong planes of his face, and his powerful chest heaved. The years had been good to Jess, maybe because he had a job that required him to be active. His body was fit and tanned.

Thirteen years ago she’d only imagined what sex would be like with him. Now she had more experience to feed her active imagination. It didn’t take much effort to picture getting naked with Jess. She grew moist and pliant as she thought about it. The trick was to stop thinking about it. Immediately.

Yet that was easier said than done. She’d never rejected a man as gorgeous as this. She didn’t want to do it now, but it was for her own good. She had to be strong. “I mean it,” she said. “I don’t want to play whatever game you’re playing.”

He gave her another long look. When he spoke, his voice had a husky quality that spoke volumes about his state of mind. “Are you going to make me beg?”

As his words sank in, hot desire slid through her veins. Maybe she’d miscalculated. Maybe her own needs had blinded her to the force of his sex drive and they were more alike in their desires than she’d thought. It was a fascinating theory.

Did she dare test it? Could Cheryl be right, after all, that Katie had the ability to make him grovel? Now that would be sweet.

In the end, the chance to put him at her mercy was too irresistible to pass up. “Yes.” Her heart beat wildly at the prospect. “I do believe I’m going to make you beg.”

JESS SWALLOWED A SMILE of triumph, not wanting to push his luck. He didn’t care how or why Katie was letting him stay, just so he got to. Just so he finally put an end to thirteen years of longing and frustration. The thought of making love to her nearly had him moaning out loud, but he swallowed that, too.

“Shall we have some of that wine you brought?” she asked.

“Great idea.” He walked back to the coffee table and picked up the bottle.

Earlier he’d uncorked it and closed it again with a silver stopper that he planned to give her along with the crystal goblets. Maybe it was ostentatious, but he needed her to realize he was no longer that poor kid who’d worked long hours at Home Depot after school to help his mom financially and buy gas and tires for his old Ford.

“While you’re pouring the wine, I’ll change into something more comfortable.”

He almost dropped the bottle. He’d never dreamed she’d be this cooperative. “Uh, sure. That would be terrific.” Wow. This was turning out to be the best move he’d ever made. Breaking and entering had its advantages, after all.

After she left, he poured wine in both goblets and sat on her sofa wondering what more comfortable meant to her. Ads for Victoria’s Secret swam through his fevered brain and he shoved his hand into his pocket to make sure the condoms were still in there.

If he didn’t want to get an erection while he was waiting for her, he’d better concentrate on something neutral, like furniture. Earlier he’d prowled around her apartment and discovered a Southwestern theme throughout, with old pots and Native artifacts scattered everywhere.

Her coffee table and end tables were trimmed with saguaro cactus ribs, and she’d hung several small Navajo rugs on the walls. The turquoise sofa he was sitting on was the single spot of color in a room dominated by earth tones.

He wasn’t particularly surprised. Her parents’ house looked like this, and she’d told him how much she liked being immersed in Southwestern culture. He could relate. Now that he was able to afford the trappings, so did he.

But he still couldn’t understand why she’d fought so hard to keep KRZE’s adobe house from falling to the wrecking ball. Personally he couldn’t see the point. By the time KRZE had finished modifying the place for its purposes, the place had lost whatever historic value it once might have had.

There were plenty of other structures like it, even a few with actual historic significance. He could think of several that would be ideal for KRZE’s new location and weren’t in danger of being bulldozed any time soon.

Maybe in the course of getting close to her—very close—he’d learn what made her such a passionate opponent of his project. It wasn’t the main motivation for his decision to break into her apartment. His hormones were mostly in charge on that one. But as a side benefit, it wasn’t bad.

And here came Katie wearing something filmy and black. He was such a sucker for black, especially on a blonde like Katie. The outfit consisted of billowy harem pants that rode low on her hips and gave him a view of a black thong underneath, plus a low-cut black bra and a wispy jacket that might as well not have been there for all it covered up.

He began to sweat. As much as he wanted her, sitting here casually sipping wine would be torture. But then, maybe that was the idea. She had said she’d make him beg. He was ready to start with the begging ASAP.

Choosing a spot on the opposite end of the sofa, she settled into the plump turquoise cushions.

He picked up both wine goblets and reached over to hand her one. “Here’s to renewing old acquaintances.”

She raised her glass in his direction. “To settling old scores.”