“I appreciate your concern about taking things too fast,” she said as if she were talking to an unreasonable two-year-old.
“I’m glad you understand.”
“But I thought you agreed to let me lead these lessons whatever way I see fit.”
“I will, I will. I just wasn’t prepared for us to hop right into bed. Or onto the counter.”
“You’re the one who asked for sex lessons,” she said as she stalked back into the living room, her lovely ass in full view.
“I just thought we’d be going over the rest of that questionnaire tonight. I was looking forward to your answers.”
She tried to hide her annoyance behind a thin smile. He watched, fascinated, as she went through the motions of putting her bra back on, then her dress.
“Fine,” she said when she was dressed again. “I can’t wait to see the rest of your answers.”
Trent plucked the sheet of paper off of the coffee table, and peered at it as if he didn’t remember where they’d left off. “Let’s see, looks like we stopped…um, right about here. Yeah, you were just about to describe to me your favorite sexual fantasy.”
Josie stared at the questionnaire, looking as if she hoped it would spontaneously combust. Her gaze crept up to meet his and she smiled as if she’d just swallowed something foul and wanted to prove she’d enjoyed it.
She sat at one end of the sofa and tucked her legs and feet up underneath her dress. “My favorite sexual fantasy…”
Trent sat one cushion away and propped his feet up on the coffee table. He couldn’t wait to hear this one. “I’m listening.”
“Well, this is easy for me. My favorite fantasy is me making love to Brad Pitt.” She smiled.
“No fair. That’s not a fantasy. That’s just naming a celebrity you lust after.”
Josie shrugged. “What can I say? I don’t have a very active imagination.”
Trent frowned. “You mean, you’ve never once fantasized about slathering me with whipped cream and licking me from head to toe?”
She turned her gaze heavenward. “I’ll never tell.”
“You have no idea how far you might get with a little dirty talk.”
She looked him up and down, perhaps weighing the truth of his statement. “I think I can imagine, based on what just happened in the kitchen.”
“Come on, tempt me.”
Josie drew her lower lip between her teeth, still watching him. “Okay, but just remember that old saying, be careful what you ask for…”
She couldn’t make him any more frustrated than he already was. Could she? Superman, think Superman.
Trent stretched out full-length and put his hands behind his head, mentally prepared to leap over tall buildings in a single bound.
“I’m alone in my office, working late at night,” she began. “I look out the window, and I see a lone man in the building across from me. He’s in his apartment, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, and he’s leaning against the window, cooling himself in the night air, and watching me.”
She paused.
“What next?”
“Are you sure you want to hear this?”
“Absolutely positive.”
“Our eyes meet and there’s this connection. I start undressing, slowly, making a show of it.”
“Who is this guy? Someone you know?”
She chewed her lip for a moment. “We pass on the street. Say hi at the newsstand. Maybe see each other in the grocery store or the deli.”
Interesting. If she was making all this up for Trent’s benefit, she was doing a damned good acting job. But he’d bet money this was the real deal, one of her most secret fantasies.
“I undress down to my bra and panties, and I’m so turned on, I start touching myself. I touch my breasts, between my legs…”
“What does the guy do?”
“I have my eyes closed for a while, and then I hear a knock at the door. I know it’s him, but I say nothing, and he comes in.”
“You’re still touching yourself?”
“I stop when he knocks on the door. I’m sitting on top of my desk, waiting for him. He comes in and, without saying a word to each other, we make love there on the desk.”
“What happens after? Do you ever speak to him?” Trent asked, aware that his own voice sounded slightly strained.
He couldn’t help imagining himself pleasuring Josie there in the darkened office, finding inventive uses for ordinary office supplies.
“I don’t know. The fantasy never goes all the way to the end.” She blushed but didn’t look away from him.
“Because you always come first?” he asked, cursing himself as the words rolled off his tongue. More sweat ran down the back of his neck.
“Mmm-hmm,” she said, and Trent knew then that he’d gotten in too deep.
HIS FINGERS, his tongue, were everywhere. Touching, exploring, pleasuring, driving her out of her mind.
“Oh, Trent. Mmm, oh, yes! Trent, please, touch me there—”
The phone rang and Josie tried to ignore it, focusing on the feel of Trent’s tongue probing between her legs. He seemed not to hear the incessant ringing. He kept coaxing her to the brink of orgasm, then pulling back, again and again. Driving her mad. But the phone, it wouldn’t stop—
Josie was jolted awake by the sound of the ringing phone on her nightstand. She looked around, disoriented by her dream and its sudden interruption. She was soaking wet in her nightshirt, and the sheets were twisted around her legs. She banned the erotic images of Trent from her mind and grabbed the receiver.
Just as she mumbled “Hello?” she caught a glimpse of the clock and saw that it was three in the morning. It had to be her mother, calling in the middle of the next day by Czech time and not caring one bit that she was waking Josie.
“Hello, Josephine. Sleeping alone, I bet.”
“Yeah, I just sent home that wrestling team a few hours ago.”
Her mother laughed. She was the only mother on earth, as far as Josie knew, who’d laugh at her daughter’s joke about group sex with an entire sports team. Josie had given up wishing she had the kind of mom who baked cookies and complained about wanting grandchildren.
“How’s the center doing?”
Josie pushed herself up in bed and leaned against the headboard, wide awake now. She had been avoiding telling her mother about how close the business was to utter failure. “Not good.”
“You can save it, I’m sure. That’s why I asked you to run it for me.”
Josie had the feeling her mother’s request was motivated by something more than she was letting on. She was normally a shrewd businesswoman—or so Josie had thought until she’d seen what a mess the center’s finances were in—and her actions just didn’t add up.
“The rent is two months late, and I can’t pay it.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. Trent O’Reilly is as understanding as he is gorgeous. If you had any sense at all you’d make him forget all about those rent payments.”
Josie blinked at how close to the truth her mother was. “Right, Mom. Maybe I should just trade sex to solve the center’s financial problems.”
“Whatever you want to do, dear.” She said it in a way that let Josie know she’d lost interest in the subject.
“What’s on your mind?” Josie asked as she suppressed a yawn.
“Oh, it’s Peter. I’m afraid things aren’t working out so well between us.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Writer’s block. He’s had it ever since I moved in with him. The poor thing sits staring at his computer all day without typing a word.”
“Hmm.”
“I think it’s the sex. He’s using his creative energy in bed at night, and I’m leaving him a bit too satisfied, if you know what I mean.”
Josie wished she didn’t. The last thing she wanted to picture was her mother in bed with a man twenty years younger than her—or any man at all, actually. But there it was, the image invading her head a
nd chasing away the last remnants of her Trent dream. She was wide awake now.
“Are you thinking of coming home?” Josie asked, not sure which answer she wanted to hear.
“Don’t be ridiculous. And leave Prague? This city is to die for. Actually I’m thinking of withholding sex from Peter until he finishes his novel.”
“Hmm.”
“I’m just not sure I can tolerate that option. I have needs, too, you know.”
“Wish I didn’t,” Josie muttered away from the receiver.
Her mother either didn’t hear or ignored it.
“Or maybe I’ll let him pleasure me, but I won’t touch him. Oohh, that could be fun.”
“Did you call me at 3:00 a.m. to tell me this?”
“Oh, I almost forgot. I’m calling because I need you to take Eros to the vet for his yearly checkup. I was just looking in my appointment book and saw that his vet visit is scheduled for this Wednesday at eleven…”
Her mother continued to talk, but Josie didn’t hear her. She sat bolt upright in bed, her pulse racing. Eros! When was the last time she’d seen him?
Think, Josie. Think.
Not since early yesterday evening, before her “Great Sex After Sixty” seminar. She must have been so distracted by thoughts of Trent that she’d failed to notice that he hadn’t shown up for dinner, or breakfast, or dinner again.
Oh, for heaven’s sake, she would never forgive herself if something had happened to that cat. As poorly as she got along with Eros, it was her job to take care of him, and she’d failed. Her mother would never forgive her, either.
When Rafaela finally stopped talking, Josie said a hurried goodbye and jumped out of bed, grabbed the jeans on a nearby chair and tugged them on. Her nightshirt was a cotton-and-lace camisole, still damp from her heated dreams, but it would have to do for street wear for now.
Where could the cat be? He liked to wander, but he faithfully showed up for mealtimes without fail. He was staying at Lovers for Life while her mother was gone, because Josie was allergic and couldn’t keep him in her apartment, but she definitely hadn’t seen him there in the past day and a half.
Horrific images flashed through her mind—all the awful things that could happen to the poor animal if he’d wandered outside and then couldn’t get back in. She had to get to the center immediately to start looking for him. Maybe he’d just gotten shut in a storage closet. Or maybe not. But she couldn’t rest as long as she was worrying about him.
She jammed her feet into a pair of sandals and headed for the front door, grabbing her purse along the way. When she got to the door, she remembered that she didn’t have a key to the center, not since Erika had lost hers and borrowed Josie’s to open up in the mornings.
Great, now she’d have to wait until morning. Or call Erika and wake her up. She gnawed her lip for a few moments before making up her mind. She’d call Erika and apologize profusely for the rude late-night interruption.
She grabbed the cordless phone from an end table and dialed. But the phone rang and rang, and rang some more. No answer at Erika’s house.
Josie let out a frustrated roar and fumbled with the disconnect button, then slammed the phone on the wall a few times for emphasis.
Okay, what could she do now? She could go out and search the area around the center for Eros, but that was definitely not safe. She could try to jimmy the lock at the center, but she hadn’t a clue how to go about doing it. Or…
She could call the landlord and ask for his key. The landlord she’d been having lurid dreams about moments ago. The idea tumbled around in her head for a few minutes before she decided she would do it. The alternative, waiting until morning, could mean the difference between life and death for Eros, and she had to do all she could to find him and keep him safe.
If it wasn’t too late already.
That thought sent her fumbling through her address book for Trent’s number and, without stopping to reconsider, she punched the numbers into her phone. It rang once, twice, three times before she heard a sleepy “Hello?” on the other end of the line.
“Trent, it’s me, Josie. I’m sorry to be calling so late.”
“Josie?”
She heard fumbling, the sound of the phone being jostled around, and she imagined him sitting up in bed. He was probably naked from the waist up and the sheet probably pooled in his lap, barely covering his—
“What are you calling for?” he asked, sounding both concerned and annoyed.
“I need to get into the center immediately, and I don’t have a key. Can I come by and get yours?”
“Is something wrong?”
“It’s my mother’s cat. He’s staying there at the center, but I just realized I haven’t seen him in almost two days. I need to look for him.”
A frustrated sigh came across the line. “He’s a cat. They wander. It’s no cause for an early morning search and rescue mission.”
“Eros always shows up for meals, and he’s not even supposed to be going outside while my mother is gone. She’s afraid he’ll wander off and not come back without her around.”
“And you let him out anyway?”
“Well, no. But sometimes he darts outside when people come in and out the door. He always comes back, though, but I haven’t seen him, I just realized.”
“You were up at three in the morning thinking about your mother’s cat?”
No, I was in bed dreaming of making love to you.
Josie felt her cheeks burning. “Rafaela called and woke me up. She doesn’t get this whole different-time-zones concept.” She heard his breathing on the other end of the line and somehow it felt intimate, as if he were right there. Suddenly the thought of the two of them, on the phone while the rest of the city slept, was turning her thighs to jelly. She crossed her legs, but the friction of the denim against her crotch was too much so she uncrossed them and stood.
“Give me directions to your place. I’ll come by and pick you up.”
“Trent, that’s not necessary. I can come get the key.”
“Out of the question. It’s not safe to be out looking for a cat at this time of night. If you want my key, you get my help, too.”
His offer was generous, but he sounded none too thrilled about the proposition. Still, he was right. She wouldn’t feel safe in the neighborhood around the center this late.
After giving him directions to her apartment, she hung up the phone and paced the living room floor. Then a glimpse of her disheveled appearance in the entryway mirror gave her pause. Her wavy hair had been transformed into its usual nighttime bushy do by sleep, and her eyes were puffy and tired. Oh, dear. She couldn’t greet Trent looking like one of the Muppets.
Josie hurried to the bathroom and winced as she switched on the bright light. Egad. It would take him fifteen minutes, twenty tops, to get to her place from where he lived. And in the mirror she saw an hour’s worth of work. She dumped her makeup bag on the counter and grabbed the lipstick. She had turned her lips halfway Passionate Pink when she realized the absurdity of putting on makeup for Trent at this hour.
If he arrived to find her made up, he’d know she’d done it to impress him, and that wouldn’t do. Trent would laugh at such obvious tactics. No, this situation called for the subtle approach.
She scowled and grabbed a tissue to wipe off the lipstick. A little concealer under the eyes, the ever-so-slightest remnant of lipstick to color her lips, a few strokes of mascara to darken the lashes, and she could look a little more like she’d just rolled out of bed, without looking like she’d just rolled out of bed.
That left her hair to contend with. She picked up the nearest brush, but then thought better of it. Instead she ran her fingers through her mop of curls until they tumbled in a more desirable manner than every which way, and she could almost envision herself as a slightly nerdy version of one of those just-awakened catalog models, showing off the latest summer pajamas.
Uh-oh. Speaking of pajamas, her own PJ top was a little more reveal
ing than she’d realized. She squinted at the lace and confirmed that yes, indeed, the edges of her areolas showed through. Since she wasn’t wearing a bra, her breasts bobbed and swayed with every movement, and her nipples stood at attention from the cool night air seeping in the bathroom window.
This wouldn’t do at all… Or would it? She wanted to seduce Trent, didn’t she? And what better way was there than to provide a little enticement, a hint of pleasures to come?
Smiling, she went into the hallway, dug an old denim jacket out of the closet, and shrugged it on over her camisole. The effect was perfect, hiding just enough to keep her modesty intact, but if he looked closely, he’d get quite a show.
A soft rap at the door startled her back to reality, and her mind immediately focused on Eros. That poor, ornery cat… Where the heck was he?
A quick look through the peephole revealed Trent on the other side of the door, looking every bit as rumpled and tired as herself. She wondered if, after their steamy lesson, his dreams had been as erotic as hers. She opened the door and gave him an apologetic smile.
“I owe you for this,” she whispered, stepping out into the hallway.
The old house she lived in had been converted into four tiny apartments. Her neighbors could hear just about everything, and while several of them were night owls, it wouldn’t win her any friends to make unnecessary noise at three-thirty in the morning.
“I’ll add it to your tab.”
Josie locked the door and when she turned to face Trent, the images of her dream came back. She felt her pulse quicken.
“I guess we both should drive,” she offered, to take her mind off of more erotic thoughts.
“No way am I driving with you right in front of or behind me,” he said, matching her own hushed tones. “You can ride with me. I’ll bring you back after.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my driving.”
“Uh-huh. You’re riding with me.”
“And if we find Eros, you’ll let the cat inside your precious car?”
“Absolutely. Eros and I are buddies from way back.”
“It figures.”
Trent followed her down the front steps and then walked ahead of her to open the passenger side door of his car. Once they were both settled inside and buckled in, he took off in the direction of Lovers for Life.
Pleasure for Pleasure Page 6
