What a Girl Wants

by Selena Robins

  “That joke’s over.” He drained his wine. “Everyone needs a friend to act goofy with, and God only knows why, but I’m glad you’re mine.”

  He liked hanging out with two types of women: women who made him laugh—like Maddie—and women who made him horny…blonde, know-the-score babes with a big rack. He did enough thinking and committing in his career.

  He tented his fingers on the table and adopted a serious tone. “Okay, what’s going on? We’ve been friends for over six years.” They had always steered clear of intimacy. He had erected an imaginary neon “Hands Off” sign over her sweet head when he had first met her. Even though their present bantering gave him the urge to bring her to bed and do her until she couldn’t walk for a week. That would suck ass big time, since he’d be performing career and friendship suicide. “You’ve never given me any indication you were interested in a—what did you call it, a sexual boot camp. Now you have this one-track mind?”

  “And it’s waiting for your train to pull in.”

  He poured a tall glass of ice water, downed three-quarters of it and bio-fed the ice cubes to cool him off. “You need a real vacation, not another assignment.”

  “Exactly. I’ve worked my tooshie off for the past four years. If sex were a religion, I’ve been a dedicated atheist.” She finished her wine. Her expression had mischief written all over it. “Want to take a trip downtown for a boxed lunch?”

  “You did not just say that.” Where did she come up with this stuff all of a sudden? “Playboy called, they’d like their porn metaphors back.”

  “Oh, please.” Her lips twitched at the corners. “As if that embarrasses you.”

  No, but the mental image she’d created kept his attention and cock at full mast and now he wondered what it would be like to pleasure every molecule of her being. Damn it.

  As discreet as possible, he slipped one hand under the tablecloth and with a flick of his wrist he rearranged himself to the side to ease his erection’s pain from the buttons on his fly.

  “If,” she continued, “I mean, when I reach my peak with a man instead of my toys, I’m sure the Star Trek soundtrack will be playing in the background with Captain Kirk saying, ‘To boldly go where no man has gone before.’ Well, okay, I did have a few dates and we—”

  “Maddie, change the subject.”

  She waggled her eyebrows. “Too much information?”

  The waiter’s arrival halted their conversation. They both ordered dessert and coffee. The band warmed up at the bar, Alex turned his head with feigned interest and watched them. He liked Maddie’s playful wit and valued their friendship. They had other stuff in common besides the fact that they worked for the same magazine, like their love of travel and their allergies to phonies. Maddie was as real and honest as any woman he’d met. What you saw was what you got.

  What was the deal with this sudden shift in her attitude toward him? It had to be one of her elaborate gags. After all, Maddie was dubbed “The woman with a black belt in mischief”.

  A memory of his last colleague-turned-lover-turned-bitter-enemy still lingered in his gut. The experience had taught him friendship mixed with sex was a recipe for disaster. It had also taught him it wasn’t possible to keep up camaraderie once they had sex. Women always resented him for choosing work over a committed relationship.

  Cupping his chin with one hand, he tapped his fork against his wine glass in time with the music and watched Maddie finish her wine. Her complexion took on a pink tinge.

  He had a clear shot of freckles sprinkled across her chest. He noticed the subtleties that took her from looking pretty to now looking pretty fuckin’ hot. He parked his gaze on the way the V of her T-shirt accentuated her long neck and round shoulders. The green color of the material deepened her green eyes to a luminous teal. She wore tiny silver studs in her ears—ornaments beckoning to his mouth to lick, nip, graze with his teeth, and kiss behind her ears.

  What the hell was wrong with him? Gawking? He shouldn’t gawk at his best friend’s perky breasts. He was well on his way to a woody hard enough to crack walnuts.

  He needed a boner buster. Now.

  Think about Sister Agnes in a black thong on a cold rainy day. He focused on breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Yup. That helped to soften things to half-mast.

  He pushed his glass away. The long flight and the wine had tampered with his perception. The thought of even considering her wild idea was madness. Maddie’s uncle signed his paycheck, and more importantly, George Saunders had given him a break after the infamous Crystal Washington humiliation. He’d vowed eternal loyalty to the man. Moreover, he’d learned from his mistakes.

  This should shut his pleasure sensors down.

  “As I was saying.” Maddie hauled him back to the conversation. “I want you to be my sexual mentor while we’re on this island. When we get back home, you can go your way and I’ll go mine.” She reached out and touched his hand. “We can still be friends. Nothing has to change.”

  He tapped his forehead with the heel of his hand. “That’s right. A guy’s best friend is usually his fuck buddy. Bang her, have a game of backgammon and pretend nothing happened.” He chuckled. “You’re a trip.”

  “Flattery will get you everywhere. Listen, I have it all worked out. Sex with no strings—”

  “Maddie.” He bowed his head and arranged a show of guilt he hoped didn’t look too strange on his face. “I feel used, cheap and disposable. I have the urge to call every woman I’ve slept with and apologize.”

  “Puleeze. Your act couldn’t get you a job as a seat filler at the Oscars.” She dabbed her mouth with the napkin, crossed her arms on the table and leaned forward. “No strings. No mess. Got it?”

  “I got it.” He pointed at her. “This prank is over the top, even for you.”

  “I am tired from the trip so, yeah, probably a bit loopy, and I admit I’ve pulled a few fast ones on you. But this time I’m not kidding around.” She sat back in her seat. “We’ve had open discussions on everything, including sex.”

  “In general terms. Never about us.”

  “Okay for the sake of argument I’ll discuss this in general terms,” she said, drumming her fingers on the table. “Why should a woman go without sex because she hasn’t met Mr. Right? And you know what, a lot of us aren’t even waiting for him. Some of us want to enjoy Mr. Right Now. Men don’t have the monopoly on sex without a commitment. It’s sexual karma and it’s about time.” She grabbed her purse beside her, rifled through it and pulled out a pen and paper. “Ah, I just remembered what I need to do.”

  Now what was she talking about? Maddie’s conversations changed directions faster than Nolan Ryan’s pitches. “What’s on your shit-disturbing list now?”

  “I didn’t have time to hit a drugstore before we left and I’m low on supplies. Have to do some shopping later.” She scribbled on the paper. “Let’s see. I need shampoo, shower gel—”

  “Don’t forget protection.”

  “Thanks for reminding me. Condoms.”

  He drew a quick breath. “I meant sunscreen.”

  “The ones I keep in case of emergency are so old, the real Trojans modeled for the package.”

  “What do you mean the ones you keep—”

  He clamped his mouth shut as the waiter arrived with their desserts. The server placed a fresh fruit platter and vanilla yogurt in front of him. The fragrance from the platter reminded him of Maddie’s scent. Strawberry with a hint of peach combined with subtle vanilla.

  The server dished Maddie a bowl of caramel sauce and a chocolate-chip ice cream sundae with a cherry on top. The young Hawaiian lingered, adjusting her napkin and cutlery until Alex snapped his napkin to the side and nodded in dismissal. Obviously, Alex wasn’t the only man who’d noticed that even after a long flight Maddie had an irresistible glow.

  She plowed into the
sundae with gusto. “Only you would think fruit is dessert.”

  He forked a pineapple chunk. “I prefer clog-free arteries, thank you.”

  “Yeah, well, dessert without chocolate is like sex without the spanking.”

  He ignored her comment and erased that visual from his mind. “How’s your sundae?”

  She slid her full lips along the spoon. “Like an orgasm for the taste buds.”

  He concentrated on his fruit, reminding himself that she was on a mission to yank his chain. “All that chocolate you’ve been eating has finally made you nuts.” He waved his fork at her. “Correction. Nuttier.”

  She held up the bowl of caramel sauce. “Take a walk on the dark side with me.”

  He grimaced as she poured the sweet sauce over her sundae. “That’s like adding insult to injury.”

  The caramel sauce reminded him of golden, aromatic massage oil. He was a sucker for a woman’s naked back, the smooth skin and the sexy curve at the base of a woman’s spine. The rounded dent perfect to pour warm oil and massage her, getting her slick and relaxed, before turning her around and using his palms and fingertips, kneading her curves.

  Maddie added another spoonful of caramel, catching the last drip with her tongue and rolling it along her smooth, pink lips. He thought of her other lips and visualized them as pink and smooth as the ones on her luscious mouth. He imagined massaging each fold with his thumb and forefinger, sliding them up and down her entire length.

  Shit, he had to stop this. He had to conjure up a congregation of old naked nuns to soften this one up. Looking down at his fruit platter, he exhaled a quiet breath. The shrapnel from the erotic explosion in his cranium combined with the tropical setting and her sexy joking around screwed up the flow of blood, draining it from the rational part of his brain directly into his cock.

  “Here.” She held out a spoonful of caramel dripping ice cream and offered it to him. “Have a taste. Trust me. You’ll come back for more.”

  “No, thanks. I don’t want to deprive you of any pleasure.”

  “Ha. I knew you’d come to see things my way—”

  He held up a hand to silence her. “Don’t go there.” He didn’t want to be on his way to another painful woody.

  Sure, he told himself, most guys would notice Maddie’s attractive qualities, but she was so not his type. His preference had always been for women like Stella, the stacked flight attendant on their plane from New York. Stella possessed the most important attribute he looked for in a bedmate—she was in town for only two nights.

  Thinking of the flight attendant triggered the memory of a plane incident he’d forgotten. Until now. “What did you say to Stella on the plane?” he asked with casual indifference.

  “Stella?”

  “The flight attendant. I asked her to meet me for drinks tonight. She said yes, but when I got back to my seat she changed her mind.”

  Maddie tapped the spoon against her lips. “Yes, I seem to recall a conversation. She asked me why we were traveling to Makana Island.”

  “And?”

  “I told her it was…confidential.”

  “My interview with a billionaire and your article on resorts isn’t confidential. I know I’m going to regret this. What else did you tell her?” He reached over and slid her dessert to his end of the table. “Speak.”

  “When I told her it was confidential, she assumed I was talking about the island’s legend.”

  “Legend?”

  “Apparently, there’s a blend of passion flower tea rumored to have healing powers.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “It can help men who, you know, can’t perform…”

  “You told her I was impotent?” His voice cranked up a notch. He gritted his teeth as heads turned toward their table.

  She managed to retrieve her dessert. “I said Stella assumed. I didn’t have time to straighten her out.” She pretended to look concerned, but her shoulders shook. No doubt a poor attempt to control her laughter.

  “Don’t hold back on my account, sweetheart.”

  “Wouldn’t I love to hear you say that under different circumstances.” She adopted a contrite expression. “I’m sorry.” She threw her head back in laughter, her ivory throat pulsing, white straight teeth flashing.

  “Sure you are.” Her infectious laugh gave him no choice but to grin, even though she punctured his male pride.

  “I am.”

  He folded his arms and made an effort to look firm. “Liar.”

  “I’m sorry you didn’t see her face. Poor Stella. She looked like she got zapped with a stun gun.”

  He shook his head and popped a strawberry into this mouth. “Did you have any friends growing up?”

  “Well, um…did you… I mean, did you really have plans with Stella?” She sobered from laughter and a quick flash of disappointment crossed her face. Although he wasn’t sure if it was disappointment or another poor attempt at looking contrite for the stunt she’d pulled.

  “Just planned to meet for a drink.” He wanted to tell her that she’d thwarted his plans to get laid, but Maddie’s sudden restrained demeanor made him edit his comeback. “No worries.” He winked at her. “Payback’s a bitch.”

  She blew out a breath that sounded like she was relieved and continued enjoying her dessert. Alex picked up a peach from his fruit platter, he touched the texture of the fruit, felt the tiny hairs and soft curves. He looked up and saw Maddie staring at him, as he spread it open slightly and pressed his mouth against the sweet center.

  He locked gazes with her as he took a small bite and rolled a piece of the fruit inside his mouth. Peach juice ran down his thumb, he licked it and returned to the peach’s delectable flesh.

  Steady desire widened across her pretty face the instant he licked the peach. He opened the peach a little further, sunk his teeth on the skin, peeled it back and flicked the tip of his tongue against the peach’s pit.

  She licked her rosy lips and her freckles glistened from the heat.

  The watering in his mouth had nothing to do with the wet, sweet and tangy taste of the peach. Warm sensation trickled down his chest to the inside of his boxers as if he’d gained an extra two pounds between his legs.

  The throbbing matched his rapid heartbeat as he thought about squeezing peach juice in between her fingers, toes and all her other crevices—he’d follow the wet trail and lick and suck the fruit mixed in with her feminine juices.

  He saw a flicker of something on her face he hadn’t seen before—not even when she mentioned her sex boot camp idea—unadulterated desire. Sexy-as-all-hell sensuality. The buttons on his fly pressed against his hardness.

  Man, she’s not dicking around. She’s damn serious about this.

  The air around them sizzled with carnal, hardcore intentions and indecent proposals.

  Oh, yeah, they were having a moment like none other they ever had. She looked at him as if she was picturing them naked in bed. Her provocative smile combined with the blatant sexy sparkle in her eyes said he could be in for the fuck of his life.

  Would she really be okay with the arrangement she proposed?

  Would that be enough for her?

  Without taking her eyes off him, she picked up the sundae’s cherry by its stem and slid it in and out of her mouth.

  Mesmerized by her technique, an involuntary groan traveled up his throat. That was one lucky cherry. I’d have one lucky cock to have those lips wrapped around it.

  Holy mother of all that’s good and holy. What the hell was wrong with him? How could he be thinking of her this way? It’s Maddie, you idiot.

  If he didn’t chill down—Siberia temperatures—he was going to screw up the first day of their joint assignment, their friendship and quite possibly his sanity.

  He gave himself a mental head slap, put the peach on his plate, wiped his hands and poured hims
elf another glass of ice water, draining it all to restore his equilibrium.

  Didn’t help.

  He bent his head forward and raked his fingers through his hair. Okay. He made a decision. They’d have some fun, as she’d suggested. She had said no strings.

  Bad idea.

  You think?

  He glanced up and saw her satisfied grin. “No, Maddie.”

  She threw her head back and dangled the cherry close to her kissable mouth. “Oh, but you want to.”

  So much so, he was going to have to beat two off as soon as he hit the showers. “Wrong.”

  She flicked the cherry back and forth, torturing him.

  The cherry left her fingers and landed on her tongue. “Mmmm.”

  She stopped moaning.

  Her glazed eyes widened, and she stared at him with a horrified expression. Gasping, she flung her hands to her neck and wrapped them around her throat.

  He erupted off his chair. “Maddie?” Hauling her to her feet, he did what any man would have done under the circumstances.

  He popped her cherry.

  Chapter Three

  “You know someone said that Dorothy Parker had wasted her life wisecracking.

  I really can’t think of a better use of a life.”

  —Fran Lebowitz

  After their late lunch, Maddie sat cross-legged on the king-sized hotel bed in her old Scooby Doo nightshirt. She leafed through brochures, jotting down ideas for her article.

  She picked up the purple fleece pillow, last year’s Christmas gift from Alex that accompanied her on her travels. Her favorite color filled her with a sense of comfort, as did the yellow lettering: A buddy is your angel’s way of taking care of you.

  Grinning, she propped the pillow up beside her and reminisced about Alex’s expression in the restaurant: disbelief mixed with a hint of lust.

  Had she actually managed to interest him? Not only was Alex a brilliant, award-winning reporter specializing in social justice issues, he was modest and kind. To Maddie and to every woman with a pulse, these were ultra-sexy traits.