Sex, Lies, and Beauty Aides

by Deb Julienne

  “I bet.” She so didn’t want to hear that about Trent. Travis had a smile on his face one minute and a frown the as if he were torn between good memories and bad.

  She enjoyed herself so much she’d forgotten her plan to seduce Travis.

  Even though she knew the ultimate outcome she wanted, she had no foggy idea how to get there. She didn’t want to jump his bones as Kat crassly suggested. And she suspected Travis was all for the end result, except that he too seemed as hesitant on how to get there.

  It was times like this when she wished she were more like Kat. Brave, courageous, self-confident.

  It wasn’t in her. The concept of planning such a thing made put her in the same class as the other women who had tried to take advantage of him in the past. She didn’t want to be categorized like that.

  The scenery flew by. After hearing his colorful stories, she was happy to just be in his arms.

  If only Travis kissed her again maybe he’d take the next step all on his own. She was willing to let him lead. No problem there.

  She snuggled closer. Travis pulled her deeper into his grasp. Funny, sitting here in his arms she was perfectly content, exactly where she wanted to be.

  Travis kissed her temple. She leaned in to the kiss. It felt so—right.

  She pulled away and studied his profile, loved his chiseled features.

  He turned to look down into her eyes. He grinned, a new light came into his eyes. His lips met hers. He captured her lips in a slow, thoughtful kiss that tasted of coffee and chocolate.

  She slipped her arm inside his coat. The warmth of his body enveloped her as she leaned in closer, feeling his heartbeat against her hand.

  He broke the kiss and pressed his lips to the top of her head.

  “I’ve wanted to do that all day,” he murmured.

  His breath tickled the hair near her ear and he nipped at her neck. His mellow baritone revealed truth in his words. The soft growl that slipped from his mouth filled her heart.

  “Me too, I was afraid you wouldn’t want to try.” And yet terrified he’d kiss her and she’d lose all control, but she didn’t want him to know all her fears.

  “Not want you—are you nuts?”

  “Probably.”

  He opened his mouth to speak then shut it and looked away.

  Had her words scared him as much as they did her?

  He remained in thoughtful silence for the rest of the trip, which made her worry that she’d said something wrong.

  When the ride ended, Travis treated them to some hot chocolate. They strolled through the park hand-in-hand to get a closer look at the scenery.

  Travis drove them back to the office.

  They stood beside her car and necked a bit. When she shivered, he held her tighter. She like the way his mind worked. They hadn’t exchanged a word. “Thank you for a lovely evening. The best third date I’ve ever had.”

  “Me too, and that’s saying a lot. Much as I hate to break it up I still have some work in need of my attention.”

  “I understand. Thank you, again.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He took her keys, opened her car, and helped her in. He kissed her again then he handed back her keys.

  She started the car only to discover how disappointed she was their date was over.

  He closed the door, waved, and the interior dials of the car illuminated and cast a shadow as he disappeared in his own car.

  Her stomach fluttered. The steam from of her mouth came out in a puff causing her to shiver. Thank goodness for the headrest. Her fingers clutch the steering wheel. It was the best night of her life. A perfect evening, even with the few hiccups during dinner when he’d tried to explain the guys in her past. At least he’d put that part of her past at rest. If his explanation was the case, so be it.

  Life was finally smiling down on her.

  Not that she believed for a minute this was leading to her happily ever after, but darn close.

  She wouldn’t allow herself to linger on what she’d do when Travis’ job was over. She was better off not thinking about it. For now, she’d have to be satisfied if things continued to progress in the right direction.

  Dreamily, she relived the evening as she undressed, put on her nightgown, and padded to the bathroom to wash the makeup from her face. Then she dried her face and inspected her scar in the mirror. It suddenly didn’t seem so big and life-altering.

  Sabrina ran her finger along the crease as she remembered the accident that had so traumatized her.

  She’d been fifteen when she and her family went out to dinner for Nickie’s birthday and they’d been broadsided. Her side of the car had received the brunt of the impact. The window near her had been shattered. Several pieces of glass cut her. One large shard sliced through her cheek and cut her tongue. Unconscious at the scene, she’d been forced to spend the night in the hospital. It hurt to eat, to talk, to even smile for over a month. To her the scar had been a neon sign pointing out she was permanently disfigured. When the stitches came out and the incision faded her mind still fixated on the original disturbing purple gash. To this day, she regularly slid her tongue over the scar inside of her cheek. She had even changed the part in her hair to the left side in order to help cover her cheek when her hair draped to cover the scar.

  Maybe Kat was right to accuse her of hiding.

  She smiled in the mirror and a dimple appeared, just as Kat said. One she hadn’t been born with. One she only now recognized for what it was. She no longer felt like a freak. How silly to have wasted time and effort to conceal something that no longer existed. Had she really used her scar to push guys away? A distinct possibility.

  One of the traits she’d adapted following the accident was to appear interested. Easily done when you put an elbow on a table, rested your hand on your cheek and sighed.

  And it worked.

  When had she become so vain?

  It seemed so darn stupid now.

  However, the one thing Travis helped her understand most had been the way he explained his take on why some of the guys never asked her out again. He’d made her feel better, less singled out because they hadn’t pursued their attraction to her. Thanks to his honesty she didn’t feel the anxious need to try to seduce him. She wanted them to progress slowly, naturally.

  The pressure was off.

  * * * *

  The pressure was on. Now more than ever.

  It was time to make a decision once and for all. Either he came clean and admitted to Sabrina he was Trent or he needed to come up with a plausible excuse to end it with her before he hurt her.

  Why’d she have to be so damned honest?

  So open.

  So frank.

  And so damned cute.

  There wasn’t an ounce of guile in her. She didn’t act like anything other than herself. She didn’t have to pretend to be interested in him. She truly was and in a way that surprised the hell out of him. He liked that she didn’t back away or try to hide her mistakes, but rather boldly admitted them to him. Sure he saw the cause of her embarrassment but she didn’t make excuses. He couldn’t remember a woman who didn’t have some hidden agenda whether it was to want him for his money or for family connections.

  The worst part was deep down inside he knew in her heart she wanted Trent. Did she accept Travis because she didn’t think she had a chance at him?

  Damn it, Travis.

  He wanted out.

  A fair chance with Sabrina.

  At the same time he damn near choked on his own lies. How to find the words and the courage to admit to Sabrina he was Trent? He’d done nothing but lie to her. No, he had to keep up the farce for Travis’ sake.

  He promised himself he’d tell her everything when Travis returned. For now his brother had to come first.

  No matter what, this was the last time they’d ever play this game.

  It wasn’t fun anymore.

  10

  As the workweek continued Sabrina and Travis tried thre
e more restaurants.

  “I still want to try that fondue place. We’ve had steak, Chinese, sushi, and French food. And while they were nice, I want something bigger, better. Something to rave about. What do you think?” she asked Travis.

  “I agree. The eateries were enjoyable, great food, nice ambience, but none of them were overly impressive. We need something spectacular for the perfect place for a romantic Valentine’s Day meal. We have to try that fondue place as soon as I can get reservations.”

  Sitting at Travis’ desk, she wrote a review on her laptop, putting a positive spin on each and hit save. “All updated. What about the florists? I love that one we went to in Fair Oaks.”

  “You love the exotic flowers.”

  “I agree.” She couldn’t wait to have a home of her own with a nice big yard where she’d plant all the fragrant flowers she’d recently discovered.

  She rated them. “How about the candy stores? Which did you like best?”

  “The one in Old Sac has the best turtles and I loved all the old fashioned candy at the one on Second Street.”

  “You have to admit the truffles at the one on Riverside were the best.” She licked her lips.

  “How many of those did you try?”

  “That night or when I went back for more?”

  “What? You went back without me? No fair. Did you get more Kruffles? I noticed you were particularly fond of them?”

  She had to laugh at the mock anger he tried to pull off. “What was your favorite?”

  “The fudge, I never get enough of it.”

  “I’d never have figured you for such a sweet tooth.”

  “It’s my kryptonite.”

  She already had a complete list of shows available during the week of Valentine’s Day. She was grateful it was finally crossed it off her to do list. “I finished the article on What is Love? It’s in your inbox.”

  “I read it before lunch. Nice job.”

  She had yet to tackle the right angle for the sex article. She’d managed to narrow down the field. It wouldn’t be so much about the act of sex, but something to help lead up to sex. And the problem only grew the more she interacted with Travis, because she could think of any number of things she’s like to do with him. She drew in a deep breath before confiding her biggest problem to Travis. “About the other, I’m having trouble getting started.”

  “Talk to me. What’s the topic?”

  “That’s just it, I don’t have one.”

  “What’s the problem?” He frowned.

  “Deciding on one topic.”

  “What do you have to choose from?”

  “Nothing and nothing.”

  “I see. How can I help?”

  “You can’t. I wish you could, but then I’d never be able to look you in the eyes again. It’s bad enough you know so many of my secrets.” She looked away, couldn’t bear to see him laughing at her again.

  “Mind if I ask a question?”

  “Shoot.”

  “How are you going to figure it out? Do you have someone else to talk to?”

  “I’m going to talk to Kat and Jill.”

  “I guess that’ll work,” he said dubiously.

  “The problem as I see it is that I need to have a starting point. I won’t even bother with the act itself, ain’t gonna happen. But there has to be a topic I can confront.”

  “I’m staying out of it.”

  “Coward,” she teased.

  “You got it. Sorry I’m not more help. Besides, I have to head out now for that interview at the radio station.”

  “No problem, I have some more research to do.”

  “How about we meet back here at the end of the day and we’ll figure out what to do for dinner?”

  “Sounds good.”

  In her mind it was because of Travis. The basics of sex were one thing, but what could she write about? The issue was compounded by the fact that she was no closer to having sex with Travis so what advice could she possibly offer? She needed a starting point for her article and her sex life.

  It was a week before Christmas and Sabrina debated whether to fly home to be with her family or stay and spend it with Kat. Jill’s two-day trip had been extended as her mother was worse. Travis hadn’t mentioned whether he planned to go home either. Probably best not to plan on spending much time with him for the holidays.

  Besides, they’d only dated for two weeks, too soon to plan something intense with a new guy especially considering the previous history he’d shared with her.

  Heck, she didn’t have the right to call him a boyfriend. He was someone she had been dating.

  As much as she wanted to ask Travis’s advice on the sex column, she didn’t. She needed a woman’s perspective to figure it out first. Maybe once she got the right spin on it she’d ask Travis for feedback.

  She dialed Kat’s cell. It went to voicemail. “Kat, any chance we can set up a girl’s night on Saturday? There are some things I want to go over for my article and I want to pick your brain.” Next she dialed Jill and left the same message. They could at least talk on the phone.

  She made notes on a legal pad of what she needed to ask them.

  What do you do to get ready for a hot date? Expectations?

  If you know you want sex with a man, how much thought goes in to the clothes you choose and why?

  Do you do anything special, perfume, underwear/bra, to get you in the mood? And there she was stuck. This was why she hadn’t been able to get a handle on the article. Even to her the questions seemed lame. Was any of this important enough to focus an article on?

  Maybe that’s what made this article so troublesome for her. She had tried too hard to feel those emotions, the wants and needs, and she wasn’t there yet with Travis.

  All right, so the article wasn’t about her or her and Travis. It was about sex, pure and simple.

  Maybe if she were more clinical she’d find the whole concept easier to find information.

  With this in mind she discovered several shops on the internet specializing in everything from lingerie, edible undies, to toys of every shape and size. Why did the unknown suddenly terrorize her? Viewing the endless list of sex toys and products left her quivering in her Jimmy Choo’s.

  Holy Hannah, who bought this stuff? Some of the items looked more like torture devices.

  Heat radiated over her entire body at the idea of putting on a pair of gummy underwear with the knowledge her man planned to feast them off her. Can it really be fun? Enjoyable? Shades of Pac Man attacking her crotch sent her into a panic.

  She hated how clueless she was about such things.

  There were plenty of pictures of sexual apparatuses. Synthetic penises of every size, shape, and color. Vibrators that did everything except light your post-coital cigarette. Her nipples pebbled. Her breathe increased to a rapid pace. She grabbed a notebook and fanned her face. By the time she scanned to the end of the first page she wasn’t sure she’d be able handle any further invasion on the website.

  Kat had told her all about ‘Bob’, ‘Ed’, and ‘Bugsy’. Frankly it wasn’t her idea of a date. She clicked on another website, daring herself to move forward, but fear won out. Even if a menu of possibilities presented itself to her, she still didn’t believe she’d be able to tackle her fears or find the way to comfortably seduce Travis.

  Seduce. She disliked the word and how it made her feel. It sounded planned, fake, almost as if she’d been out to scam him or do something wrong like his old girlfriend. Maybe that’s why she hadn’t been able to wrap her head around it? Love alone was the key for her.

  What was there to love about her? With all these fears, no man would want her. No, they wanted women willing to do all the things she feared.

  Based on the pictures and information she narrowed her choice to two places.

  Angeline’s and The G-Spot.

  Angeline’s was small but their advertisement was stylish and classy. The G-Spot carried absolutely everything according to its
graphic pictures and snappy catch phrases. If they had that kind of stock maybe they’d also have some explanations to use in her article or with Travis.

  After the lunch crowd thinned, she headed to Angeline’s. She was all about baby steps. Luckily the store was only a couple of blocks from the office. She walked in order to give herself a pep talk along the way.

  She could do this. It wasn’t about her. It was about the article and the need to make the magazine a success. Yes, focus on that.

  She pulled back her shoulders and pushed her way in the door. Not a soul in sight. Thank God. She wandered around the shop pretending to search for a specific object.

  Lingerie of every style and stretch of the imagination filled half of the store, and an endless sea of naughty paraphernalia lined the other. Sabrina roamed among the aisles of costumes and scary get-ups. Every kind role-playing costume, from cheerleaders to BDSM, to some of the most gorgeous lingerie she’d ever seen. She leisurely made her way through the racks and fingered the delicate lace and soft silks.

  A saleswoman approached her. “Can I help you?”

  “No—yes thank you.” She pasted on a smile of nonchalance. The salesgirl appeared so normal. What an idiot. What had she expected her to look like? A prostitute dressed in a teddy, thigh high nylons, and stiletto heels with make-up plastered on with a spatula?

  The smiling young woman wore a nice pair of black wool slacks and a gorgeous off-white angora sweater. Pinned to her chest, a gold Christmas angel, mouth opened in song. Her dark hair shone with auburn and blonde highlights. Her makeup was exquisite right down to her perfect light rose manicured nails. “How can I help you?”

  It was time to take the plunge, lose her mental virginity, and ask questions guaranteed to absolutely scare the pants off her. Rather than shy away from her mischievous sexy ideas she noted her own arousal. Images of Travis’ reaction to her wearing each outfit. Damp underwear. Rapid heartbeat. Heavy breathing. Those reactions had her smiling and made her body quiver with anticipation, feeling sinful. Even though she lacked the courage to do so, it excited her to contemplate his response, if she did. “I’m writing an article for an upcoming issue for the magazine I work for. It will be our Valentine issue and I have a couple of ideas but I’m not sure if I’ve got the right angle to pitch. I—ah—do you have time to talk?”