Accidental Sex Goddess

by Lexi Ryan

  Lance hadn’t been so kind. He’d told Reese that Ben was having his cake and eating it too. Ben kept Reese to himself while dating whatever women he wanted.

  Across from her, Ben leaned back in his seat. The casual observer might think he was relaxed, but Reese could see the tension in his jaw. “He was jealous.”

  Reese shrugged. “Probably. I thought that was all there was to it, but lately—” Lately, she’d found herself falling into the same patterns she’d been stuck in all those years she’d been waiting for Ben, and Sex Goddess Bootcamp had made her realize it. “Lately, I’ve thought maybe Lance had a point.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “We spend too much time together. We need to cool it a little. Be more like normal friends.” She flinched even as she said the words. They hurt to say, but she needed to do what was best for them both.

  “Normal friends?”

  “How many dates have you had since I broke up with Lance?”

  He crossed his arms. “Enough.”

  “You know you’ve dated less since I’ve been single, and that’s my fault. I needed a friend, and you were there. I was grateful for that—I am grateful.” She shook her head and laughed. “It sounds like I’m dumping you.”

  He studied her for five hard pumps of her heart. “Aren’t you?”

  “No, not at all. It’s just—we’ve been down this road before, and we know how it ends.”

  The side of his mouth drew up in a lopsided grin. “Are you worried you’re going to fall in love with me, Reese?”

  She snorted and the tension between them fell away. “Hardly.”

  “Let me help you through Sex Goddess 101.” The words seemed to shock him as much as they shocked her.

  “You’d just love that, wouldn’t you? How do you figure you’d help?”

  Ben propped his chin on his fist and wriggled his eyebrows. “With some inspiration for dirty stories?”

  “You wish.” She studied him. “Maybe you can help.”

  “Now we’re talking. I’ll call the guys and see when they can install a pole in the basement.”

  “A pole?”

  “For dancing lessons.”

  She scowled. “You know what, if I need any help, I’ll just call your brother.”

  Ben growled and narrowed his eyes. “Okay, so what kind of help do you have in mind?”

  She shrugged. “The women you date are…” The ceiling didn’t offer up the words to make this conversation any less awkward so she shifted her gaze to him. “You know.”

  He raised a brow. “Profoundly lucky? Imminently satisfied?”

  Reese rolled her eyes. “I was going for sexy. Or…confident. I don’t know. They have that thing.”

  “Thing?”

  “That sexy thing that makes men drool.”

  “You’ve lost me.”

  “If I’m going to get through this program, I need to be more like the women you date.”

  He straightened. “Wait. You’re serious?”

  She frowned. Had it really come to this? Letting Ben Hawk, of all people, help her become sexy? Her love-sick college self was somewhere inside her, whimpering. “Yes. I think so.”

  He reached back and pulled an envelope from his pocket and handed it to her. “Halie visited me at work on Monday and told me to give you this.”

  Reese scowled. “Why didn’t you give it to me sooner?”

  “I was too busy trying to figure out which of my exes you want to be like.” He leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingers on the table. “The poet who said I was the inspiration for her best work?”

  “Hardly.”

  “The lingerie model who wanted me to have a threesome with her sister?”

  “She wasn’t a lingerie model, she was a woman who didn’t understand the difference between under- and outer-garments,”

  “How about the kindergarten teacher who liked it when I took my feet and—”

  “Stop!” She shuddered. She knew more than she ever wanted to about that particular woman’s fetishes. Really, it was best to just change the subject.

  She pulled the paper from the envelope, unfolded it and groaned as she read step three.

  “What is it?”

  She tucked it into her back pocket. “Nothing that can’t wait.”

  “Are you still breaking up with me?”

  She sighed. “I wasn’t dumping you. I was saying we should put some distance between us. Date more. Make our interactions more appropriate.”

  “Same thing.”

  “You can’t seriously want to help me with this program.”

  “Let prove I’m not the evil influence Lance made you believe I am. Let me prove you can have a healthy dating life without changing our friendship.”

  “And you’re going to do that by helping to turn me into a sex goddess?”

  “Why not?”

  ***

  Tall, blonde, and stacked, the woman strode into Mark Hawk’s office like she was ready to give orders. The look in her eyes said she’d knock over anyone who wasn’t interested in taking them.

  A smile curved Mark’s lips. He wouldn’t mind taking orders from this tall drink of water.

  “Can I help you?” he asked, tossing aside a memo to stand and offer a hand.

  Ignoring his hand, she pushed her oversized sunglasses onto her head and studied him. “You’re the man they call The Hawk?”

  “The one and only.”

  “I’m Halie McCormick, Sex Goddess, Inc.”

  This morning just got better and better. “Pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about your work.” He grinned. “I approve.”

  Miss Sex Goddess, Inc. narrowed her eyes. “And what do you think you know about my work, Mr. Hawk?”

  Nothing about this woman said, “naïve,” so Mark imagined she was well aware that, on air, he referred to her Sex Goddess Bootcamp as “Slut Camp.” Nothing about this woman said “laid back” either, so he also imagined she didn’t appreciate the nickname, even if he did say it with utmost respect.

  “I know I like the results,” he said.

  He got a smile for that.

  He liked her smile. It took some of the hard lines from her face, made her look softer for a moment. When the smile fell away, she was all business and hard angles again.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked.

  Halie smoothed the back of her skirt and took a seat across from him. She met his gaze before she spoke. “You’re a man who appreciates beautiful women. Is my assessment correct?”

  Mark shifted in his chair, feeling a bit like an animal being backed into a corner. “It’s not a secret.”

  Halie gave a sharp nod. “And what makes a woman beautiful? What makes her sexy?”

  If he were on his show, he’d say “big tits and a tight ass.” Hell, maybe he’d say that if he was out with the guys, but he knew as well as any other hot-blooded male that a woman needed neither to be sexy as hell. “Confidence,” he answered, meaning it.

  Another sharp nod. “I’m in the confidence business. I instill it in my clients.”

  “You make them believe they’re sexy, and then they are.” It was brilliant, really.

  She didn’t answer, only pulled a picture from her purse. “You used to work with Reese,” she said, handing it to him.

  In the picture, Reese looked like her typical self. Self-conscious smile, oversized clothes, diminutive posture. Damn, she was cute. Nothing like the women he dated. Everything like the women he preferred. He was so damn sick of living a fake life. “Yes.”

  “She’s recently enrolled in my program.”

  Mark raised a brow. “No kidding?” For some reason, he instantly thought of his brother. What did Ben think of Reese being a pupil of the famed Sex Goddess, Inc.?

  “I want you to ask her out.”

  Mark’s head shot up, but Halie didn’t look like she was joking. “Excuse me?”

  “Reese. I want you to flirt with her, woo her, and a
sk her out. I want you to play a part in her transformation.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think—”

  She put her hand up, stopping him. “She’s not sexy, right?”

  That wasn’t the problem. Not by a long shot. Mark’s eyes dropped to the picture, thinking of the way Reese blushed when he walked into a room, the way she averted her eyes, as if just looking at him was a carnal act. She hadn’t always looked at him like that, but ever since her boyfriend had moved out, the way Reese looked at him made him feel like a Greek god.

  And ever since her boyfriend moved out, Ben had been looking at Reese like she was a goddess.

  It was all a fucking mess that made him feel guilty. About the secrets he kept from his brother. About the reason she looked at Mark like that. About the past.

  “I’m not looking for a relationship,” he told Halie.

  Halie laughed, surprising him. “Neither is Reese.”

  Hell. Maybe that was why she was suddenly so infatuated with him. Because back when she’d been looking for love, she hadn’t wanted anything to do with Mark. It was nothing new. He understood what women expected from him. Why should Reese be any different? “Why do you want to involve me in this?”

  A slow, devious smile curled her lips. This woman was dangerous. “Think about what could come of it. Use your imagination.”

  He didn’t have to. He could easily list ten reasons why he’d like a woman like Reese on the other side of a candlelit table. And one why he couldn’t. “She’s Ben’s.”

  Halie arched one perfect brow. “Is she? He’s interested? Romantically? He’s told you this?”

  Fuck. No and no.

  “More importantly,” Halie went on, “does Reese want him?”

  “Well, once—”

  “I’m not talking about the past. Does she want him now?”

  “I hadn’t thought of it like that,” Mark muttered. He shouldn’t want anything to do with Reese, but that hadn’t stopped him six years ago and it didn’t stop him now. “Listen, I appreciate what you do, but I think you’ll need to find someone else for this. It’s too complicated.”

  Halie stood, smoothing her skirt again. She withdrew a business card from her purse. “Think about it.”

  And he did, but not for the reasons she thought.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “What’s sexier than a Halloween masquerade ball?”

  “Exactly,” Reese said, clutching the phone and breathing a giant sigh of relief. In a week’s time, she’d found a location, a caterer, and a band, and now she’d secured a sponsor in Corrella’s Closet, a high-end lingerie store. “Would you be interesting in donating an item or two to our silent auction as well?”

  “Oh, I have just the thing,” Corrella purred. “I’m so excited I can be part of this event. I adore Halie so much. Her program saved my marriage.”

  Reese’s phone buzzed, and she grabbed it as the woman detailed the troubles in her pre-SG 101 marriage.

  Her phone said she had a text from Ben, so she slid her finger across the screen to open it.

  Brunch at my mom’s in the morning? Or would that send your potential dates the wrong message?

  Reese bit back a smile.

  “But suddenly,” Corrella was saying, “all these men from my past were showing up in my life and I took a closer look at my part in ending all those relationships. It was eye-opening.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Reese said as another text message made her phone vibrate in her hand.

  If it would help, I’ll be rude to you the whole time. Call you names, flip you the bird. Whatever Lance would have considered appropriate between friends.

  Reese stifled a giggle and forced her attention back to her phone call. “I can’t tell you how excited I am for you to be a part of our event. Almost Home makes a difference in so many women’s lives.”

  “Happy to do it, Reese,” Corrella said. “Send that contract over, and I’ll get to it first thing Monday.”

  Reese ended the call and turned her attention back to her cell.

  Can you give me a ride? she typed.

  Pick you up at nine.

  She imagined this was what it was like to have an addiction. On the one hand, she knew she needed to change things between her and Ben if she really wanted to eventually have a meaningful relationship. On the other hand, he was her best friend, and being around him—whether people wanted to call it flirting or not—made her smile.

  Reese had met Ben in college, but not in the typical way college friends meet. They hadn’t met in their dorm or shared a beer at a party. Instead, Ben had been privy to one of Reese’s most embarrassing moments.

  The blind date had been Masey’s idea. She knew a guy who had a brother who sounded perfect for Reese. Reese hadn’t been so sure but Masey had talked her into it through a series of clichés. “It’ll be great!” “You’re only young once!” “You need to let your hair down and have some fun!”

  Reluctantly, Reese had agreed. It wasn’t as if she wanted to be single, but bookish and a little awkward, she didn’t have a great track record for attracting guys.

  They’d decided to meet at a bar by campus. She’d be the brunette in the red shirt, he’d be the guy in the Yankees cap.

  After walking in the bar doors a few minutes early, she took a seat at the bar. She wore a pair of Tricia’s jeans. When Reese objected they were too tight, Masey had insisted they highlighted her curves. And as she sat at the bar, they squeezed her thighs and she felt suffocated and hot even though she had paired them with a light knit red tee.

  At Masey’s urging, she’d left her hair down, and the heat in the bar had her sweating under her heavy hair. Sweat accumulated at the base of her neck. Twisting her hair, she held it off her neck.

  “Hot day out there,” the bartender had said.

  Reese looked away from the door and looked up. “What?” Tall, broad shouldered, sandy blond hair, and kind gray eyes, the sight of him had her darting her tongue out to wet her lips.

  He smiled and grabbed a glass. “Looks like you could use a drink.”

  “Would you hate me if I wanted to start with water?”

  “Not at all,” he said, filling the glass with ice.

  When she accepted the water, she was all too aware of their fingers brushing. She took a long drink before she spoke. “I thought I’d be escaping the summer heat when I decided to stay in Chicago for the summer.”

  He waved a hand. “It’ll pass.” The pub was deserted, and he propped his elbows on the bar and leaned toward her. “Where you from?”

  “Kentucky,” she said.

  “And you came up here for school?”

  “University of Chicago,” she supplied. “But no redneck jokes, okay?”

  “What? Couldn’t get into Yale?”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “You’re a junior?” The door chimed as he asked, and he waved to the patron.

  “Yes, I—”

  “Are you Reese Regan?” someone asked behind her.

  Reese’s breath caught and she hopped off the bar stool. She’d nearly forgotten why she was here.

  “Hi!” She offered her hand, taking in the man before her.

  Really, it seemed unfair to judge his appearance after talking to the hottie behind the bar. Her date was cute. Average height, slim build. A few scraggly pieces of dark hair stuck out from under his ball cap.

  “You must be Trevor,” she said.

  Trevor looked her over, his gaze sliding slowly from her carefully tamed hair down to her cute but sensible ballet flats.

  Reese wasn’t the kind of woman who got a lot of once-overs, and if this was how they felt, she hoped she never would be. Trevor’s gaze wasn’t so much appreciating as it was appraising, and everything about his body language said he wasn’t impressed.

  “Damn,” he muttered, finally bringing his eyes back to her face. “I told Derrick no fatties.”

  Then, as if that settled everything, the asshole turned on his heel an
d walked out of the bar.

  Reese swallowed hard against the bile rising in her throat. Cheeks burning, she turned to retrieve her purse and run back to her summer sublet.

  The bartender stopped her with a hand over hers. “If you leave now, you’ll just feel like shit for the rest of the day.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to look him in the eye after he’d been witness to her humiliation. “I can’t imagine staying is going to change that,” she said softly.

  Slowly, she opened her eyes and stared at the floor. The warmth of the bartender’s hand left hers but she still couldn’t look at him.

  She took a deep, fortifying breath. Time to put your chin up and go home.

  “Hey.” He ducked to catch her eye. The bartender stood on her side of the bar now. “Don’t you dare,” he said softly, “give that loser one more thought.”

  She looked into his eyes, swallowed hard. “Okay.”

  He gave a curt nod. “That’a girl.” Stepping back, he winked. “Now tell me what your drink is. It’s on the house.”

  “I don’t suppose you have any good wine,” she hedged.

  He slid around the back side of the bar and chuckled. “This establishment caters to the college crowd, so unless you idea of a good wine is cheap white zin—”

  Reese shuddered. As an impoverished college student, she couldn’t really afford the good stuff, but her parents had brought her up on fine wine. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

  “This is what you need,” he said. He poured her a shot of amber liquid and pushed it across the bar.

  Reese frowned. “What is it?”

  “Tequila. Drink of choice for any self-respecting heartbroken college girl.”

  She scowled. “I am not heartbroken. I’m mortified.”

  “You’re thinking about the ass again.” He nudged the shot an inch closer. “This will correct that.”

  She gave a sharp nod. “Fair enough.” She threw it back and winced as it went down. It hit her belly hot and fast, making her draw in a sharp breath. “Well, then.”

  He refilled her glass.

  She shook her head and held up a hand. “I know my limits.”

  He raised a brow. “Have you stopped believing what the asshole said yet?”