as AJ. Sara was right about one thing—okay and sex shouldn’t be in the same language, let alone sentence.
“Though I wouldn’t brag about picking me up,” he said with a wink. “Technically, I picked you up.”
“No, sir,” she said in mock outrage. “I invited you to my table. All you picked up was a pen.”
“But I insisted,” he said, pushing her onto her back on the pillowy mattress and pinning her by the wrists, which made her feel very sexy.
“So, am I threatening your masculinity?” she teased.
“Nope. You make me glad I have it.” He kissed her softly, then released her wrists.
“I’m serious, though,” she said. “I was nervous and you made it so easy. Like I said, I’ve been out of circulation…and you helped me get my feet wet.”
“Your feet?” he asked, sliding his hand to where she was still slippery. “I’d say something way more fun than your feet got wet.”
“Oh, yeah. Very true.” Wow. She’d never felt like this before—in or out of circulation. The three men she’d slept with hadn’t been much interested in sex, now that she thought about it. Dan, in college, had been a virgin, too, she’d been sure. She’d gotten a book to help them, but he’d been embarrassed to admit his inexperience, so sex was always fumbly.
Mark had been a philosophy professor—very cerebral—and sex had been a low priority. And then there was Blaine. Blaine had been haphazard about sex, sometimes rushed and often preoccupied. Had she subconsciously chosen men who didn’t enjoy sex? Or maybe she hadn’t rocked their worlds. She could have made more of an effort, she guessed, but the awkwardness of the topic had intimidated her.
What a mistake, she realized now. There was way more to sex than she’d thought. And what a perfect time to find out—when she had a column where she could share all her insights. She had the tiniest impulse to slip into the bathroom and take notes, but then AJ touched her and her thoughts flew away like dandelion fluff.
Her notes could wait until AJ was finished with her. And she was finished with him. Who knew how long that would take?
A FEW HOURS LATER, Beth rested her cheek on AJ’s sweat-damp chest and listened to his heart thud steadily against her ear. He was dozing now. He’d earned a rest, having given her another amazing series of orgasms. Even in sleep, he held her close. She breathed in his wonderful smell and sampled his salty skin with her tongue. Mmm.
She would love to spend the night here, tangled up in sheets and man, but she didn’t dare. She had to let her dogs out to pee, and she itched to start her column. Plus, she didn’t want to spoil the moment with talk. AJ might have annoying opinions and she wanted to preserve the magic at all costs. For her column. And for herself.
Moving carefully so she wouldn’t wake him, Beth untangled her limbs from AJ’s, rolled over and slid out of the bed.
“Don’t go.” His sleep-fogged voice floated to her in the dark.
“I have to,” she said, grinning madly at the desire she heard beneath his slurred words.
“I’ll be back in two weeks,” he muttered so faintly he might have been talking in his sleep.
She grabbed her clothes bundle and ducked into the bathroom to dress. Her reflection in the mirror stopped her. Her face was soft, her lips swollen and her eyes gleamed. Freshly laid. That was how she looked. She’d had no idea sex could be so easy and so fun.
Dressed, she tiptoed out of the bathroom, then stood watching AJ sleep for a moment. He was a big man, a bundle of male power curved under the sheets, his muscular arm and chest slightly revealed, dark against the white sheets in the dim room. He didn’t want her to leave.
For a moment, she was tempted to crawl back in and go for more. Maybe she’d turn out to be good at oral sex, too.
No. She had to go. Her pets and her column were waiting.
I’ll be back in two weeks, he’d said. That was a lovely thought. She smiled to herself as she went to the desk and wrote, “Call me when you’re back in town,” on the hotel notepad. She left her number and signed it simply “Beth.” Easy-breezy.
Then she left, walking as silently as she could down the hall, in deference to the hotel’s sleeping guests. She was leaving a man’s room in the middle of the night like the “Sex on the Town” columnist would do, casually scribbling her number for next time. She tossed her hair, loose now, and waltzed to the elevator. In the lobby, she gave the sleepy desk clerk a jaunty wave, then bounded out to the late spring night.
The barest hint of dawn lightened the horizon, she noticed as she drove. She liked how few cars there were on the streets. She felt part of the secret society of middle-of-the-night lovers. Her skin felt so silky, her muscles were tired and she could still smell AJ’s cologne on her skin, hear his voice in her ear telling her how good she felt and sounded and tasted.
At home, she took her guys out back to do their business, then went straight to her computer. Four in the morning or not, she was wide awake, alive with sense memory. She would write about the sex she’d just had with the same confident verve she used in her entertainment column—leaving out the bathroom jitters and her orgasm disclaimer, of course. Otherwise, she’d be Em all the way.
Her animals sensed her excitement and jostled for position around her in her office. Ditzy curled up on her lap to sleep and Beth began to type.
Along with hot new drinks, your “Sex On the Town” reporter decided to sample a hot new man. I scoped out a popular watering hole known for its trendy drinks—two birds with one bar, after all—for likely bed buddies. My first choice was nursing a heartbreak along with his microbrew. (Check out the mouthwatering Raspberry Wheat Cream from Copper Springs Brewery, by the way.) After a quick pep talk, I sent him back to make nice with the girl he’d gone emotionally AWOL on, along with an appropriate gift idea. Your ever-helpful Em.
Then I set my sights on Mr. Broad Shoulders, Lazy Grin, whom I’d spied as I was returning from the ladies’ room. Note: Before deciding your perch in a bar, girls, take a trip to the powder room to assess the best seats for ogling the playmate buffet.
Oh, and note to fellow fashionistas: Hello Kitty barrettes can be man-magnets.
After exchanging a few conversational bon mots with Mr. Broad Shoulders, hereafter to be known as Mr. Perfect Timing, the steam rose and so did we—up the elevator to his room.
Note to the nervous: Hotel bars ease the transition to intimacy. One quick lift and you’re bed-bound….
The words flew and soon Beth was reading over her first draft, smiling so broadly it hurt. She’d described first-time sex with a sensual man in luscious detail, without being explicit, and ended with her meditative drive home enjoying the intimacy of empty streets in the pre-dawn light.
She had to know what Will thought of this right away, so she slapped the column into an e-mail and shot it through cyberspace. By the time she got to the Phoenix Rising office at ten, Will would be ready to sing her praises.
Her lavender-sprayed sheets welcomed her, but she wished they didn’t carry a scent, so she could keep smelling AJ. Maybe he would call before he left town, just to say goodbye. She couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d looked at her with such appreciation, as if her body, with all its flaws and flab, was gorgeous, as if his whole purpose was to make her feel good.
He was a special man. Or maybe he was just the first of a breed she’d be on the lookout for from now on. Beth had fought the new column tooth and nibbled nail, but she realized now that it was a gift to herself and, she hoped, to her readers.
4
RAFE WOKE AND STRETCHED across the spongy hotel bed, reveling in the open space. Except something was missing. Beth. He usually liked sleeping alone, not having to worry about disturbing a woman when he rolled around or punched the