Very Truly Sexy. Dawn Atkins
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you think we’ll feel like going upstairs?” She liked to have a plan.
He considered her question in mock seriousness. “Maybe we’d better be certain. So we don’t waste our time.”
He moved out of his seat and came to sit beside her on the banquette. He took her face in his palms and kissed her. She was stunned. Motionless with the thrill of it. His lips were gentle and he took his time, touching the seam of her lips with the tip of his tongue in a friendly coax. I’m here with more if you want.
She moved her tongue to barely touch his, relishing the taste and softness. Her sex began a steady pulse that made her want to squirm. A shudder passed through her body and she closed her eyes. This man understood the pleasures of a good kiss.
AJ slid his fingers into the hair at the sides of her head and turned her face at a different angle. She breathed in his cologne—something elegant that seemed natural on him.
After a delicious minute of sliding lips, touching tongues and exchanging hot breath, AJ released her. “Well?” he asked. “Think we’re going to want to go upstairs later?”
She slowly opened her eyes. Was he kidding? She was melting like a frozen margarita on a tongue. “Uhhuh,” she managed.
“Maybe we should be positive,” he said and leaned in for another kiss. There was more suction this time. His lips tugged and pulled at hers, massaging them with a hypnotic, back-and-forth rhythm. He moved with care, as if he sensed her skittishness, but his breath rasped in her ears, so she knew he was as aroused as she was.
Her entire body seemed to warm and loosen, as if she’d been frozen solid and was now thawing out all over this man, dripping onto the banquette and the floor beneath them.
She moved closer, wanting to crawl into his lap, her mind hazy, but she bumped the table. The rattle of glasses reminded her that they were in a crowded bar, making a spectacle of themselves. She broke off the kiss and looked into his blue eyes, which gleamed with heat. “Let’s go upstairs,” she said in a rush of lust.
But he might assume too much. “For privacy, I mean. So we can do this some more.” Maybe they’d go further, maybe they wouldn’t. All she knew was that here was her column, her man, her moment. Em’s moment.
AJ climbed out of the booth and gave her his hand to help her slide out. She wobbled a little—a combination of arousal and high heels—and he pulled her tight against his body. “You okay? You’re not acting faint just to make me feel manly, are you? Because of that tiki drink remark?”
“It’s just the heels,” she said, not wanting to let on how weak-kneed he’d made her. She felt safe with him. She trusted her instincts on that, though her self-defense training gave her extra confidence if those instincts proved off-kilter.
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