Robin Wasserman - Lust

Pool table, hot tub, open bar, an inside glimpse into the lifestyles of the very rich if not so famous? It was an offer even Harper couldn’t refuse.

After all the oohing and aahing had ended-quicker than might be expected, since Adam had already seen the place from the outside and he’d had plenty of time to imagine what wonders the inside might hold; Kane’s excitement was rarely roused by anything he couldn’t smoke, drink, or snort; Harper would rather have died than admit even a fraction of the awe and envy that struck her as she stepped through the doorway, and Miranda loyally followed Harper’s lead-they got down to work. Almost.

“So, what’s this I hear about a hot tub?” Kane asked, sauntering through the large living room and pausing before one of the oversized windows that looked out over the pool deck.

Harper cleared her throat in exasperation and waved her notebook in the air. “Forget the hot tub, Kane-we’ve got work to do. Remember?”

Kane spun around to face the room, a slow grin creeping across his face. “Yeah, yeah, work beforeadviser,” Adam play,” he allowed. “But…” He strode to the edge of the room and squeezed himself behind the mahogany bar. “Rum and Cokes before work-don’t you think?” He cocked an eyebrow in Kaia’s direction-the closest Kane ever got to asking permission.

“Be my guest,” she said, shrugging. “That’s what it’s there for.”

“Harper?” Kane asked, brandishing an empty glass at her and temptingly dangling a bottle of rum over its rim.

Harper sighed and tossed her notebook down on one of the leather couches. “Okay Fill ’er up.”

She was only human, after all.

Delighting in his favorite role, Kane began to dole out the drinks-vodka cranberry for Miranda, beer for Adam, dry martini for Kaia, and, of course, rum and Coke for Harper. Finally, Kane poured himself a glass of single-malt scotch, then stepped out from behind the bar and suggested they get started. He was already getting bored.

“So Beth’s definitely not coming?” Miranda asked, catching Harper’s look and trying not to laugh as her eyes practically rolled out of their sockets.

Adam shook his head. “She’s got some meeting for the school paper,” he said, frowning. “She told me to say she was sorry she couldn’t help out, though.”

“Now, how could I begrudge her when she’s devoting her time to the worthy cause of Haven High investigative journalism?” Harper asked.

Miranda and Kaia snorted in sync.

“I’m on the paper,” Miranda commented. “There was no meeting scheduled for today.”

“Some one-on-one thing with her and the new adviser,” Adam explained. “To discuss the ‘new direction’ or something.”

“One-on-one with Jack Powell? Lucky bitch,” Miranda sighed.”! guess there’s some benefit to being editor in chief after all.”

“Hear that, Adam? Looks like you’ve got some competition,” Kane smirked. “And from what I hear, you and James Bond aren’t even playing in the same league.”

“Whatever,” Adam growled. “Can we just get started?”

Harper perched on an ottoman at the end of the room and pulled out a checklist. She loved being in charge, all eyes on her. (And she was studiously ignoring the fact that two pairs of those eyes kept darting glances over to a certain raven-haired beauty at the other end of the room who’d splayed herself out along a black leather couch like a particularly flexible cat.)

But even though Harper was in charge and thus had a power trip to keep her awake, and even though they were planning what Harper was determined would be the best-or at least most entertaining and depraved-after party yet, the meeting was boring. As all meetings inevitably are.

Logistics, list making, blah, blah, blah.

It was hard to keep her mind on topic-and neither the rum and Coke nor Adam’s distracting grin were much of a help.

Decisions, decisions.

Miranda would handle music.

Kane-unsurprisingly-volunteered to take care of alcohol and “miscellaneous substances.”

Adam, son of the area’s most successful-and most absentee-real estate developer, would scout locations.

And Kaia would help, because, “Wow, what a great way to get a better sense of the town!”

Harper thought she might throw up.

Mission eventually accomplished, an afternoon’s worth of diversions beckoned.

“What do you say, guys?” Kaia asked, rising from her sprawl and flinging open the glass doors that led out to the deck. “Should I turn on the hot tub?”

Kane, who-bored out of his mind-had been moving at half speed all afternoon, sprang off the couch and tore off his shirt.

“Just show me the way” he said, grinning.

Miranda smiled at the sight of his bare chest, then blushed and quickly darted her head around to make sure no one had noticed. Harper may have been right about Kaia. She might be a “skanky, superficial bitch” (Miranda, for one, felt it was slightly too soon to tell, but she wasn’t about to get in the way when Harper went into battle mode), but there was now at least one reason to be thankful for her arrival in town. Actually, plenty of reasons-Kane’s six-pack abs, his bulging biceps, his taut back muscles, and the adorable indentation that dipped beneath his waistband… Miranda said a silent prayer of thanks and followed Kane, Kaia, and the rest of the group outside, where a large Jacuzzi was embedded in the hardwood deck.

“My father’s midlife crisis has been very expensive for him,” Kaia explained, “and very fun for me.” She flipped on the jets.

Stripping down to his fitted black boxer-briefs, Kane eased himself into the steaming water with a satisfied moan, as the rest of his friends looked on in envy and amusement.

“Now this is what I call a meeting,” Kane murmured to himself, raising his glass and toasting the empty air. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the marble lip of the hot tub, taking deep, measured breaths, shutting out the world.

Kaia turned to Harper and Miranda, beckoning them toward the door back into the house. “Girls, I have plenty of bikinis upstairs, if you-oh,” she stopped herself, giving Harper a none-too-subtle once-over. “Actually, I guess none of my suits would fit you , Harper,” she said loudly. “Sorry.”

Miranda sucked in her breath. Most guys ranked Harper’s delicately curvy body somewhere between Angelina Jolie and Catherine Zeta-Jones (pre- pregnancy and gross marriage to Michael Douglas, of course). But curves were curves-something that the willowy Penelope Cruz clone Kaia distinctly lacked. And not in a bad way.

Harper visibly tensed, and Miranda waited, as if watching a wild animal poised before potential prey-would she recoil, or attack?

After a measured pause, Harper did neither.

Instead, she merely smiled gracefully-and pulled off her shirt.

“No problem,” she assured Kaia sweetly. “I think I can take care of myself.”

And, stripped down to a satin black bra and matching panties (the latest from Victoria’s Secret-mail order, of course, since the only underwear within a decent drive of town came from the Wal-Mart off Route 53), Harper strolled slowly across the deck toward the hot tub.

Kane favored her with a long, low whistle.

“Looking good, Grace,” he crowed, as she slid into the churning water and took a spot beside him. Even Adam, still fully clothed and pressed against the wall of the deck, flushed a bit and gave her an appreciative smile. Harper shot a triumphant glance at Kaia and then let herself slip deeper into the water, finally submerging herself completely. She burst through the surface, face dripping, hair glistening, and then leaned back against the edge, her slender neck in perfect position to be pummeled by the massage jets, her long, bare legs swung over Kane’s lap.