Читать книгу Very Truly Sexy - Dawn Atkins - Страница 10

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 was so easy to be with. If she forgot herself for a second, she could just move into this moment and really enjoy it. She spread her fingers against his back, loving how broad and sturdy he seemed. Their tongues tangled, danced, traded places, explored, rocking with the same rhythm as before. This was familiar. This worked. If they stuck with this she’d be just fine.

Then he reached down and cupped her bottom with both hands, hugging her against his hardness, sending shock waves throughout her lower body. Okay, maybe they should try more than kissing.

He broke away from her mouth, still holding her snugly against him. “Are you okay?” he asked, his gaze hazy with arousal.

“Okay? Oh, yeah,” she said. She was more than okay. She loved feeling his need against her stomach. With Blaine, an erection had meant, I’m ready. With AJ, it said, Look what you do to me.

He lowered his mouth to hers again, his tongue more insistent this time. She opened wider, the way she wanted to open her body to him. He tasted of smoky liquor and sweet flesh, and smelled of his elegant cologne. She wondered how his skin would feel, how his chest would look. And down there…how would that be?

Kissing like this, holding AJ and being held by him, made the impersonal room seem intimate. She felt safe and desirable and right. Even better, the embrace seemed to erase the bad memories of Blaine, like an Etch A Sketch shaken clear of a bad drawing.

She would make sure her column captured this—the magic of a first time with the right man.

AJ’s hands slid upward from her butt, lifting her dress, exposing her thighs all the way to the tops of the lacy bands of the thigh-high nylons she’d worn. Then he moved his hands to the front of her dress. The bottom half dropped down, warm against her thighs, just as he cupped her breasts through her bodice.

Hot lust shot through her so swiftly she had to catch her breath. She broke off the kiss.

“Too fast?” he asked, searching her face as if she were some fragile creature who might run, or faint. She didn’t want to be fragile. She wanted to be bold.

“No. You’re perfect. Keep it up. Please.”

He smiled, then brushed her nipples softly. They tightened in response, sending electricity through her. She had to touch him, too, she realized, to give him the kind of pleasure he was giving her. As best she could, she grasped him through his pants.

He felt thick and long, and she had a fleeting thought that he would be too much for her. But he would be careful, she knew already because of how sensitive he seemed to be to her reactions. He would take it slow, make sure she was comfortable.

Then he surprised her by sliding his hand down her body and putting one finger gently against her cleft. He was right on target, and it took her breath away. Her parts seemed to loosen and swell, ache and dissolve, all at the same time. Her legs trembled and she thought she might swoon like some Victorian virgin in whalebone. “Let’s get…in…bed,” she managed to say.

If only they could whisk themselves there and clothes would disappear without any jiggling or tangling or hip-hopping out of panties.

AJ stopped touching her and held her gaze. “You sure?”

She nodded. “Just close your eyes while I change.” She was too modest to strip with him watching her.

“Don’t ever change,” he joked, but he closed his eyes.

That gave her a second to look at his face again—the strong brows and cheekbones, deep tan, the golden bristle emerging from his skin, his lush mouth with its knowing smile. Wow. And he was about to make love to her.

“No peeking now,” she said.

“You’re beautiful, Beth.”

“Humor me,” she said, and wobbled over to turn off the lamp, then punch off the entry light. She would definitely skip this part in her column—this dashing around, ripping off clothes while he hid his eyes, like some demented game of hide-and-seek.

She shook off her shoes, unzipped her dress and shoved it down, rolling her panties and the tops of her hose down along with the dress. Last, she unclipped her bra and took it off.

“Ready or not?” he teased.

“Not.” She shot a glance at him, crossing her arms over her naked breasts. His eyes remained closed, though he was grinning.

Wrapping her underthings into her dress, Beth placed the bundle neatly on her purse, her shoes beneath the chair, just as she did for a gyno exam, then started for the bed. Halfway there, she remembered the condoms in her purse. Note to self: Before things get too hot, extract condoms from purse and discreetly place on nightstand.

Beth rushed back for the squares of protection, deposited them on the nightstand, then whipped back the bedspread and slid between the sheets, pulling them up to her chin. The pillowtop was deeply soft and she seemed to sink for miles into its luxuriance. She turned the bedside lamp to the lowest glow—just enough light for AJ to see the condoms, but not enough to reveal too many of her physical flaws. Then she rested her arms along her body, over the sheet. “Now you can look.”

AJ opened his eyes. “But I missed the good part.” He walked to the bed, looking at her. He seemed to see right through the thick-ply fabric to where she trembled, her nipples taut, her sex tight.

“There are plenty of other good parts.”

“Sure, but a chance to see you naked—a little at a time—now that’s not to be missed.” Still watching her, he lifted his shirt over his head, then tossed it over the chair, where it wafted over her dress like a caress.

He opened his belt, undid his zipper and slid off his pants and boxers with quick grace. His arousal looked natural against his abdomen, which was flat with light muscle. His thighs bulged from what must be regular exercise, and his chest bore a feathering of golden hair.

She sighed and he slid under the sheets and enveloped her in his arms, radiating heat like a human furnace. Maybe Sara had a point about warmth. She spread her fingers against his back, reveling in the ripple of muscle, the pressure of his chest against her breasts, his penis and belly against her stomach, his thighs against hers.

“You feel so good,” he said, sliding his lips down her neck. He nipped, then sucked at a spot below her ear. “I want to look at you,” he said, and before she could object, he’d pushed the sheet down to her waist.

Feeling exposed, even in the dim light, she had the impulse to snatch the covers up to her chin, except AJ’s worshipful expression quelled that urge. He ran his hand over her breast, looking at it in wonder, like a geographer mapping beloved terrain, relishing each millimeter he skimmed and studied. “I wanted to touch you the minute I saw you in the bar.”

“You did?” she said.

“Oh, yeah.” He pushed the sheet farther down, making it rustle, exposing her pubic area and thighs to the brush of cool air, then his warm fingers. She tightened her tummy, to reduce the slight pooch, but he cupped it with affection. “Your body is amazing.” No man had looked at her with such frank appreciation, as if her flaws were part of her charm.

He traced the edge of her ear with his tongue while his fingers brushed lightly back and forth across her stomach, then breezed over her pubic hair.

“Oh, oh, wow,” she said, loving his teasing tongue, the surprise and grace of his skimming fingers. Her nerve endings were on fire in places that had never been ignited before. Was it possible to melt any more? Somehow she seemed to manage it. Waves of tingles washed down her arms and legs and pooled in that spot between her legs, which grew hotter, tighter and more hungry every second.

Pushed by need, she reached for AJ and curled her fingers around his shaft—velvet on the outside, sturdy underneath. She slid her hand up, stalling at his crown. He closed his eyes and pushed into her grip.

They would get serious now, and here was where her performance got iffy. “I should warn you that sometimes, when I’m nervous, I can’t…get there, you know…so don’t wait for me. Just go for it. It’ll still be great for me.”

“This isn’t a race, Beth,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

“I know, but I just don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“Don’t worry. I’m enjoying every second of this. How about you?” He slid his finger into her cleft and gently pressed the spot above her clitoris, sending a wave of heat surging through her. “Are you disappointed?”

“N-n-no,” she managed.

“Doesn’t seem like it. You’re wet and swollen,” he said, exploring her gently, “and…so soft…. Are you nervous?”

“Uh-uh,” she said, so swept away by his touch, she sounded like a slack-jawed idiot. “Sometimes, I just get…oh, never mind….” She didn’t care about past history, about explaining herself, about anything but what his finger was doing to her flesh.

AJ gave a slow smile. While still stroking her sex, he kissed her neck with gentle suction. He kissed his way down to the swell of her breast and then took her nipple into his mouth.

She arched into the electric tug, feeling as if her very being was being sucked into his mouth. “Oh, oh, oh,” she said. Instinctively, she opened her legs wider and AJ took the hint, and moved his finger more rhythmically over and alongside the flesh that covered her clitoris—now a tight knot of need.

She wanted to reach for his penis, connect with his body, too, but she was riveted by the energy pulsing through her.

AJ released her breast and slowly shifted his body downward until his hands were on her hips and, oh, dear heaven, his mouth was there. Right there.

“Oh, my…oh, oh, oh.” What was she saying? And did she even care?

He huffed hot breath onto her, starting up bottle rockets and sparklers in her most sensitive flesh. His tongue reached her clitoris, now swollen enough to welcome direct contact. He licked gently, then sucked and teased. She rocked against his mouth, wantonly pushing at his tongue, greedy for more, not quite sure where she was, feeling lifted off the bed, even while his hands held her bottom securely in place.

He seemed to enjoy what he was doing. No way was he going through the motions because he thought it was what she wanted. He kissed and sucked and stroked as if he were in her head, understanding exactly what she needed, and wanting above all else to give it to her.

She thought she should stop him, do something for him, but she was pinned in place by his mouth, held in his hot hands, and she felt treasured and lusted after—pure and wanton at the same time.

The feeling grew stronger and more irresistible—a wave she had no choice but to ride. She called out his name and other words, possibly in a foreign language, and AJ intensified his movements.

With no effort or anxiety or doubt, her climax tightened like a fist clenching, natural and fierce and unstoppable, and punched her through to glorious release.

She bucked up against his mouth and cried out loudly—too loudly for a hotel room, but she was beyond control. The waves rolled and rolled through her, so that she felt like one of those multi-orgasmic women she’d read about. Except this was just one great, endless release.

AJ held her tight, his tongue not moving, just resting on her, until she quivered to a stop. Then he slid slowly up her body, kissing her as he rose.

“That was amazing,” she gasped, trying to blink away the gray her vision had faded to, trying to catch her breath. “That was…incredible… That was…”

“Fun,” he said, reaching her face. “And you taste great.” His hair was tousled, but he looked so handsome and so pleased with himself. “I thought you said you had trouble getting there.”

“I do…when I’m nervous. But, wow, for a while there I didn’t know my own name.”

“You got mine right, I was pleased to hear.”

“After what you just did, I’d better.”

“I had a good time, too.” He chuckled lightly and kissed her. She tasted herself on his lips—clean and muskily female. His eyes shone with unquenched arousal. She had to fix that—do something as wonderful as what he’d just done for her—but she wasn’t great at oral sex. At least, she didn’t think she was great at it. She’d never gotten any real feedback.

What could she do that she’d do well? She’d read that men liked the woman to be on top. She could do that. She rolled over and pushed AJ onto his back, straddling him. “Your turn,” she said.

“Oh, if you insist,” he said with mock reluctance.

She reached across him to the nightstand for a condom packet, but when she tried to tear it, it slipped out of her fingers and to the mattress.

“Allow me.” AJ grabbed it, opened it and rolled it onto himself in one smooth motion. She took over when he’d finished, rubbing his latex-encased erection with more pressure to make up for the barrier, though this was a very transparent condom. “Ultrathin for maximum sensitivity,” she breathed.

“I love it when you talk dirty,” he teased, lying back, relaxing into her touch.

“I hope you’ll love this even more.” She moved so his tip pushed against her opening. She was so wet that he immediately slid into her, thick and long, and the sudden fullness made her gasp.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “I love this even more.” He reached deep, providing a sweet ache that made her throw back her head with the pleasure of it. That pressed her clitoris against his shaft. So, so good. This had to be instinctual behavior.

AJ dug his fingers into her hips. “You’re good.”

She raised and lowered herself experimentally. She felt awkward, jiggling above him like that, until AJ released her hips and grasped her breasts with both big hands.

She arched into his palms, stretching her breasts until the skin was taut and her nipples ached for action.

Which AJ gave her, pinching the tips with just enough pressure to send arousal beelining along her nerves, straight to her core.

She began to ride him, slowly at first, sliding against his shaft, dropping the weight of her breasts into his palms.

“Beth,” he said, thrusting upward, reaching deeper.

She went faster, feeling his urgency, wanting to quench his need. She looked into his eyes, which told her with every flicker and flash of light that she was pleasing him.

He was close, she could tell, and she matched the force of his upward thrusts with her downward pushes. Then he stilled for a second and, looking into her eyes, placed the pad of his thumb directly on her clitoris. She’d been so intent on pleasing him, she’d forgotten about her own climax, which had been moving happily closer all along. This just-right pressure brought her instantly to the brink. Her climax surged and she rocked mindlessly on him, pivots and circles and trembling jerks.

When she was nearly finished, he exploded inside her.

She collapsed onto his chest, panting, sweat making their bodies slide and squeak, but the sound didn’t embarrass her.

“That was great,” he said, his voice rumbling against her ear.

She rose up and looked down at him. “I know,” she said, feeling positively triumphant. She’d just had two orgasms in the space of a few minutes with a man she’d barely met. Talk about Em on the town.

“Got any more things you’re not good at?” he said.

“Oh, lots,” she said, gratified that this incredibly hot man seemed to think she was good in bed.

“Can’t wait for you to show me,” he said. “If you don’t kill me first.”

She rested her cheek on his chest and he held her snugly on him. They rested like that for a few silent moments, hearts beating as one, and then he slowly pulled out and headed to the bathroom.

She lay on her side, propped on an elbow, waiting for him, completely thrilled. She was so glad she’d been bold enough to take a chance. Not only did she have tons of material for her column—practically writing itself in her mind—but her sexual self-confidence had gotten a major boost.

AJ slid between the sheets again and she opened her arms to him, twined her legs with his. She wanted to thank him somehow. “That was really special. I have to tell you that I’ve never even slept with a man on the first date before, let alone picked one up in a bar.”

“You’re kidding!” he said, in mock amazement.

“Was it that obvious?”

“You did lock yourself in the bathroom, babble about condom selection and issue a disclaimer about how I should forget about your climax and go for mine.”

“That tipped you off, huh?”

He chuckled softly, tucked her hair behind her ear, then stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “You’re a very sexual woman, Beth. If some man made you feel differently, he was an idiot.”

Or not as skilled 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.