by Lacy Danes
A few hours later, she was working in the back room and the question was still on her mind.
“Maybe he’s just shy,” the perky brunette said from her perch on top of a packing crate.
“No, that’s not it.” Teal shook her head and pulled the lid off the smaller crate on the table in front of her. She thought about the way Zach moved, the way he ran his hands over whatever he was working on, and a shiver danced down her spine. “He’s way too confident to be shy. He’s quiet for sure, but he gives off this impression of restrained strength. Very strong and sexy, and completely alpha.”
It was just after ten P.M. on Saturday night, and she and Brina Jo were in the spacious back room of the gallery, unpacking the first shipment of items. Teal had spent the last two hours on the phone trying to line up a cleaning crew to come and wash the graffiti off her building, but since the next day was Sunday, nobody wanted the job. She’d lined up a crew for Monday, though.
She’d been enjoying her time alone in the back room. It was the first bit of quiet time she’d had in a while. She knew it was her own fault. When the idea for an art gallery that specialized in erotic art had come to her, she’d run with it. Full speed ahead and complete stop were the only speeds she knew.
Unpacking inventory in the back room was a bit of both for her. She got to work fast and efficiently, but she had also been alone, so she got to turn off her brain for a while and just enjoy herself. Her brain hadn’t cooperated, though. Instead, she couldn’t stop thinking about a certain well-built carpenter and fantasizing about ways to get him naked. That was until she’d heard someone rattling the locked door of the gallery.
Thinking she might catch the graffiti punks, she’d dashed through the empty gallery only to open the door and find nobody. Well, nobody with a spray can anyway. What she had found was a flyer with the words “House of Sin. You are going to hell” glued to her front door. Slightly creeped out and tired of her own thoughts, she’d called her long-time friend and newly hired assistant, Brina Jo.
By the time Brina arrived at the gallery, Teal had scraped the flyer off the door with warm water and a putty knife, and pushed it to the back of her mind. However, thoughts of Zach would not go away, so she’d blabbed uncontrollably to Brina about the brick wall hitting on him had been.
“If he’s not shy, maybe he’s not interested.”
Teal snorted. “Oh, he’s interested.”
“How do you know?” Brina asked. “I mean, if he’s as distant as you say and he’s not gay, then how do you know he’s interested?”
Turning away from the crate in front of her, Teal faced her friend. “I can feel it. Whenever we’re in the same room together, the air fairly vibrates with pheromones, and it’s not just me. I’ve caught him watching me, and I’ve seen the look in his eyes. He wants me too.” Why wouldn’t he?
“What look have you seen in his eyes?” She glanced up from the clipboard she was using to catalogue the items Teal unpacked.
“The look of lust.”
Brina Jo’s eyebrows jumped. “Lust, huh? Are you sure it’s lust and not just tolerance because he thinks you’re crazy? He has been in and out of here for the past two weeks; he’s seen your moods.”
“Crazy is the way your husband looks at you!” Teal threw a handful of Styrofoam peanuts at her friend. “And my moods haven’t been that bad. It’s just a bit stressful getting this gallery ready to open in less than a month.”
Brina cocked her head to the side. “Tell me again why someone with no experience in art whatsoever decided to open an art gallery?”
“I don’t need to know art for this particular gallery. I know everything there is to know about desire, hidden and otherwise.” Teal arched an eyebrow at her friend. “That includes what lust looks like, even in its subtlest forms.”
“If you’re so sure of his attraction to you, why don’t you just ask him out?”
Teal turned back to the crate in front of her so she didn’t have to look at her friend. She hated to admit it, but even though Zach’s hard-to-get act just made her want him more, she didn’t want to ask him out first. It was silly, but it felt like, if she did that, she’d be giving him the upper hand. And that was something she didn’t like.
She tried to think of a way to explain that to her friend as she reached into the crate and dug past the packing. She grasped the bronze sculpture within and lifted it out, scattering the little peanuts everywhere and her jaw dropped. “Wow.”
“You’re not kidding.” Brina Jo hopped off the table she’d been sitting on and stepped forward for a closer look. “That is—”
“Amazing,” Teal finished for her.
“That’s one way to put it. Are you really going to display it?”
Teal set the sculpture down on the table to her left. She wiped a dust cloth over it lovingly, taking in every detail. It was a couple making love. The female stretched out on her side with the male on his knees, straddling one of her legs while cradling the foot of the other against his shoulder. She was spread completely open. Her head was thrown back, her expression one of pure ecstasy. There was nothing hidden to the viewer as the man plunged his cock into her. His cock was as lovingly crafted as her sex.
Teal turned the sculpture around; it was beautiful from every angle. Every curve and crevice detailed to the point that her own sex clenched in anticipation of being filled.
“Teal?”
Brina’s voice broke the spell that had fallen over Teal, and she pulled her hands away from the bronze couple. “Hmm?”
“You’re not really going to display that in the main room, are you?”
Teal looked at her friend. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I?”
“It’s very…it’s so…” Brina Jo waved her hand about.
Teal watched her friend’s cheeks flush as she searched for the right word. “Erotic?” Teal finally took pity on her.
Brina Jo planted her hands on her ample hips and rolled her eyes. “Yes, erotic. But blatantly so.”
“Well, that’s what Lush is for. I want it to showcase the erotic art that normal galleries think is too ‘out there’ or ‘too edgy.’ I can’t call it an erotic art gallery and then hide the most erotic pieces in the corner.”
“True, but you know you’re going to take some flack for it, right?”
Teal shrugged. “I’m prepared. Plus, I know that sex and sexuality is a huge part of human nature, even if some people like to pretend it isn’t. I’m banking on a lot of people getting more turned on by these things than they thought possible.” Teal smirked at her friend. “Just like you.”
“Teal!”
“What?” She laughed. “You going to tell me you’re going to go home to Doug after handling all these and not want to try out this position?”
Brina Jo’s lovely chocolate eyes glittered, and she bit her lip. “That’s beside the point.”
“No, Brina baby, that is exactly the point.”
EROTIC PLEASURE
Aspiring actress Gillian Monroe is getting used to rejection. She hasn’t been hired for an acting job in months. But that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow her boyfriend’s over-the-phone break up, claiming they’re “not compatible” in bed. Sure the sex wasn’t exactly fireworks, but then Steve never wanted to try anything new. Naturally Gillian wonders if there’s a man out there who can fulfill her secret longings and take her on a journey of unbridled passion…
WET HOT DESIRE
Enter real estate mogul David Wentworth. The man oozes raw sex appeal and his mere touch awakens a wantonness Gillian never knew she possessed. For the first time in her life, she feels free to shed her inhibitions and lose herself in a sensual haze of desire, living out all her erotic fantasies and surrendering to every yearning…
Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of
Melissa Randall’s
SEXUALLY SATISFIED
coming in May 2007 from Aphrodisia!
1
“Thank you a
ll for coming,” said the casting director, clutching his binder to his chest. “You were all terrific and we’ll be in touch soon.” He gave the six foot blonde with the huge fake boobs a wide grin, which she returned with a flick of her long bleached hair. If this bimbo can convince the balding old fart that she finds him absolutely devastating, then she’s an Oscarcaliber actress who deserves the job, I thought caustically.
I sighed, picked up my tote bag and trudged to the door with the other rejects. Another bomb of an audition. I couldn’t even get hired for a tampon commercial. It had been two…no, three months since my last job. If I didn’t land a role soon, I’d have to go back to the grind of office temping.
As soon as I opened the door, the heat hit me like a blast furnace. I immediately felt sweat beading on my upper lip and trickling between my breasts. Oh, the joy of New York City in August. The subway was the stickiest, stinkiest sauna in the world.
I staggered up to my third floor apartment, pushed my way in and kicked off my shoes. “Apartment” was a bit of an exaggeration. The ad had described it as a “charming, cozy studio” but “tiny rathole” was really more accurate. I turned on the ancient air conditioner to high; it immediately coughed, sputtered and died. “Goddammit!” I shouted. I hauled out the floor fan, feeling tears of frustration pricking at my eyes.
Five minutes later I was sitting half naked in front of the fan, sipping iced tea. I tried to remind myself of all the good things in my life. My boyfriend of three months, Steve, was the sweetest guy I’d ever met—and extremely cute in the bargain. I was beginning to wonder if he was The One. Anita, my best friend since sixth grade, was supportive and fun and loyal. Even on a sweltering summer day New York was infinitely preferable to boring Hanson, New Hampshire. And I’d had some success with my acting career; if I could just hold on until the big break came…
My cell phone rang and before I even flipped it open my telephonic telepathy set in. I just knew it was Steve. We’d talked about getting together tonight, and now I really needed his company.
“Hey Gillian,” he said. “Have you melted yet in this heat?”
“No, but I wish I could. I had a thoroughly shitty day.” I proceeded to moan and groan and complain, knowing that Steve would be sympathetic. He’d been through enough lousy auditions before landing the plum role of Winston on the long running soap Nights of Passion.
I finally ran out of complaints. “So, what would you like to do tonight?”
Steve was strangely silent. Usually he was an expert at pulling me out of a bad mood.
“Is something wrong, Steve?”
He hesitated. “No…well, yes. I don’t know how to say this, Gillian…I planned to get together with you tonight to discuss it. But I think it’s better to do it over the phone.”
I never understood the phrase “my heart sank” until that moment. “You want to break up with me,” I said woodenly.
He heaved a long sigh. “I’m sorry, really I am. I like you so much, Gillian, and we had some great times together. But I don’t think we’re compatible.”
My throat tightened. “I don’t understand. We’re interested in the same things, we’re in the same business, we enjoy doing the same things—”
“It’s not that. I just think we’re not compatible…sexually. In bed. It’s never been very good for either of us.”
I was stunned. True, Steve and I didn’t have the best sex life, but God, I had tried to spice things up. He never seemed interested in trying anything new. It was the same routine every time.
“Look Steve, I understand what you’re saying, but we could work on it—”
“No…Gillian, I’m really sorry. The truth is that I’ve met someone else.”
My shock deepened. I couldn’t speak. I just sat there as Steve rambled on, apologizing, swearing it wasn’t my fault…
I finally interrupted him. “Okay, Steve, good luck.” I hung up abruptly and burst into tears.
Once the worst had subsided, I called Anita’s cell. Voice mail, dammit. “Hi Anita, please call me back as soon as you can…Steve just broke up with me.” I hiccupped. “It came out of the blue. I’m feeling lousy right now…thanks.”
I washed my face with cold water, praying Anita would call back soon. I hope she’s not having one of her party hearty club nights, I thought. When Anita was in the mood, she made Samantha from “Sex and the City” look like a shrinking violet. But Anita was so honest and grounded, the only person I could really talk to about deep emotional stuff. We’d met when we were both twelve and dreaming of fame and fortune in New York. A few months after high school graduation, we moved together to the City. My success had been modest, but Anita’s modeling career had taken off. She hadn’t reached single-moniker supermodel status, but she was well on her way.
My cell rang and I snatched it up. “Anita?”
“Gillian, are you okay? I got your message…God, I’m so sorry. What happened?”
“I don’t know. He just said we weren’t compatible in bed. Then he said he’d met someone else. That was it. The end.”
“Well, it’s his loss.” Anita was indignant. “I’ll bet this ‘someone else’ won’t last more than a few weeks.”
“Doesn’t matter.” I sighed. “It’s true that our sex life was pretty mediocre. Not horrible, just not all that good. I had to fake it several times.”
“Girl, you should never have to fake it! Find some guy who knows what the hell he’s doing. Why don’t we hit some clubs this weekend?”
“Sorry, I can’t. I’m spending this weekend in Easthampton with Aunt Mary. Steve was supposed to come, too. I guess that’s why he broke up with me tonight—he couldn’t bear the thought of an entire weekend with me.”
She snorted. “Screw Steve. There are some great clubs out in the Hamptons…”
“Oh Anita, I’m not up for that yet. I’ll just spend a quiet weekend with Aunt Mary. I need to get out of this inferno of a city for a few days and relax.”
“Okay, but call me anytime if you want to talk.”
“Thanks, Anita, you really are the best. I feel a little better already. Let’s get together for coffee on Monday.”
The train ride to Easthampton seemed endless. I sniveled most of the way. I felt like the World’s Ultimate Loser—I’d win a reality show based on that concept with no effort at all. I was a mediocre actress who could barely make a living in T.V. commercials. And apparently I was lousy in bed—couldn’t even keep Steve’s interest for more than three months.
Aunt Mary met me at the station, and just the sight of her silver hair, bright blue eyes, and broad smile was enough to cheer me up. I had told her on the phone that Steve and I had broken up; she was tactful enough not to press for details. Aunt Mary and I had always enjoyed a close relationship; she was more like a much older sister than an aunt. She had retired from acting a few years earlier, and had always been my mentor and most enthusiastic cheerleader. Mary had never been a hugely successful actress, but she had been well known in New York as a talented and hard working professional.
I was sprawled on a chaise lounge with her cat Jasmine purring on my lap when she came out to the patio with two glasses of iced tea. “Gillian, Jackie and Ken Williams are coming over for cocktails. Ken is bringing his golf partner, some guy named David. Sorry…I know you’re not in a sociable mood.”
Damn! Jackie and Ken Williams were the most boring people on the planet. But they had always been good neighbors to Mary, and she was careful to keep their relationship cordial.
I smiled briefly at Mary. “No problem. Company might be a good distraction for me. I feel pretty skanky; I think I’ll have a shower and change.” I dumped Jasmine to the ground, ignoring her yowl of annoyance.
I felt almost human again after taking a long, hot shower and changing into a pale blue sundress. I looked at myself critically in a full length mirror. God, I really had to drop ten pounds…maybe fifteen. But my skin looked good, tanned to a honey shade, and the strong sun had brou
ght out golden highlights in my wavy brown hair. Perhaps one day, after I got over the humiliation of Steve dumping me, another man might find me attractive and even enjoy me in bed.
The guests had arrived by the time I stepped out to the patio. Mary made the introductions. “Gillian, you remember Jackie and Ken…and this is their friend, David Wentworth.”
“Hi, Gillian.” He smiled and reached out a hand. I gave it a limp shake, trying hard not to gawk. He wasn’t conventionally handsome, but he was striking. Somewhere in his early forties. About six feet tall, with the lean, hard physique of a Marine—this man had discipline. Light brown hair just starting to go gray. Full lips, ordinary nose. His eyes were his most stunning feature—glacial blue and penetrating. I felt mesmerized. Powerful was the word he brought to mind.
I had a sudden attack of shyness. I dropped my eyes from his face and found myself staring at his crotch. I burned with my easily aroused blush as I looked away, praying he hadn’t noticed.
The four of us exchanged the usual pleasantries. I sat on the wicker sofa to alleviate the weak feeling in my knees. David handed me a glass of white wine and sat next to me. Mary, Jackie, and Ken huddled on the other side of the patio, complaining about the hideous new McMansion under construction down the street.
“I understand you’re an actress, Gillian.” David’s voice made me think of brandy—smooth and mellow, but potent.
“Yes.” Why did my voice sound so squeaky? I cleared my throat. “Although struggling actress is more accurate. I’ve performed in a few off-Broadway plays, starred in a couple of commercials…nothing really major. And nothing at all recently.”
“It’s a very tough and frustrating business. But I’m sure you’ll make it. You’re very pretty, and obviously very bright.”
It was a superficial and conventional compliment, but it seemed authentic to me when he unleashed his brilliant smile. Perfect teeth, of course.
“Thanks.” My voice had spiraled into Minnie Mouse range again. His thigh seemed much too close to mine; I was sure that I could feel his body heat through the thin cotton of my dress. “So what do you do?”
