Decidedly Off Limits

by Stina Lindenblatt

  “We met him today at the restaurant where we ate dinner. He’s a waiter there.”

  I felt my eyebrows pinch together. “She’s going out with a waiter?”

  “He’s not just a waiter. He’s also a fitness model.”

  I sighed. Of course he was. “So when’s this date gonna happen?”

  My sister snorted a laugh. “I heard what happened when you crashed Kelsey’s date with Stephen. Don’t even think for a second that you’re gonna get any info out of me on this one. Kelsey deserves to be happy, and you wrecking another of her dates isn’t going to make her happy.”

  I gritted my teeth. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d heard it on her end. “Do you honestly believe that going out with a waiter will make her happy?”

  “I’m not suggesting she marries him, but she can at least have some fun.” The humor in Erin’s voice had vanished, to be replaced with a tinge of irritation. Nothing I hadn’t dealt with before. “Why are you so concerned about her dating life anyway?”

  Fact #1 about women: never tell them the truth when your family jewels are at stake.

  Yes, Erin was hoping for more nieces and nephews one day, but she had long since written me off as being the provider of them.

  Which meant the family jewels were very much at risk.

  “Because…Liam wanted me to keep an eye on her while he’s away.” That was both the partial truth and the safe answer.

  “And did he ask you to crash her dates? Oh, who am I kidding? Of course he did.” She grunted. “You do realize it’s up to Kelsey who she goes out with, right? It has nothing to do with you or her brother.”

  Said the woman who kept setting Kelsey up on dates.

  “She might get hurt.”

  Erin sighed. “You and Liam always were overly protective of us. But guess what? We’re big girls now and know how to take care of ourselves.”

  I scowled at the phone—not that my sister could see me. “What do you know about this waiter?”

  She didn’t answer and I knew I’d gotten to her. “This guy could…could…” I didn’t want to even think of what this potentially deranged man could do to Kelsey.

  “Yes, this guy could end up being into Fifty-Shades-of-Grey type sex, and not only will Kelsey have fun, she’ll be a lucky girl.”

  I hadn’t read the book, nor had I seen the movie, but I’d heard enough from the women (and some of the guys) in the office to know what kind of sex Erin was referring to. The image in my head of Kelsey in a black thong switched to her wearing leather and satin and handcuffed to my bed—and my cock strained against my zipper.

  And now thanks to the thoughts parading through my head, my goal of quickly finishing my presentation was met by some tough competition, and it didn’t look good for the presentation.

  “Tell you what,” I said. “When Liam returns home, you can tell him why you were so eager to get his sister laid. I can guarantee he won’t be impressed.”

  She snorted. “It’s not like Liam’s gonna do anything to me.”

  She had a good point.

  It was my ass that would be whipped.

  And not in the Fifty-Shades-of-Grey sense.

  10

  Kelsey

  My doorbell rang, signaling the commencement of Operation Let’s Make Kelsey More Sexually Confident. It had been Holly’s idea when we were at the restaurant. At the time it had sounded like a great idea.

  Now? I wasn’t so sure.

  She and Erin walked into the small foyer, their hands filled with supplies. After the restaurant, they had dragged me to the makeup counter at Macy’s and then to a shoe store. There, they had convinced me to buy stilettos even though I couldn’t walk in them.

  They placed everything onto the kitchen table. Holly then stood there taking in the house. I’d bought it a few years ago, after I’d finished studying to be a physical therapist, and furnished it Scandinavian style. A nod to my Swedish heritage. The only items that weren’t a nod to my heritage were the cute and colorful owl pictures, pillows, and ornaments scattered throughout.

  “Nice place,” she said, smile genuine as always.

  Erin placed a pile of women’s magazines on the table. “This is your homework assignment.”

  “Homework?” I squeaked. “You never said anything about homework.”

  “These magazines have great articles on sexual confidence and ways to please a man. And this…” She removed a book from the bottom of the pile.

  “You got me The Joy of Sex?”

  “No, I’m loaning it to you. I’m gonna want it back.”

  Somehow I managed not to groan. This sure as heck wasn’t what I had signed up for. I thought they would apply some makeup on me and call it a day. “You’re not quizzing me on any of this, are you?”

  “No, unlike our high-school teachers, I trust you’ll study the info.”

  “Remember, it’s not just about pleasing the guy,” Holly said. “It’s about knowing what you enjoy. If you know what makes you feel good, you’ll feel more confident. And if a guy does ask you what you like, you’ll be able to tell him. Trust me, guys eat that up. It’s like a major turn on.”

  “And don’t be afraid to ask him what he likes,” Erin piped in. “Guys love that too.”

  I nodded, mentally taking notes, wondering what I’d gotten myself in to. Wondering what Trent enjoyed when it came to sex.

  Ugh! I couldn’t go there. Holly liked Trent. Holly was amazing and sweet and intelligent. She was perfect for him. He just needed to open his eyes and see what was in front of him.

  Even if it did break my heart.

  “Okay, first things first.” Holly grabbed the bag with the new makeup. “Your makeup is perfect for the daytime, but for a date, it needs to smolder. I’m going to teach you how to do that.”

  “Then come these.” Erin held up the stilettos.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “You’re going to practice walking in them.”

  “Can’t wait,” I muttered under my breath. “Jeff is just taking me to a movie. I won’t have to wear them for that, right?”

  “Wrong,” Holly replied, spreading out her supplies on the table. She gestured for me to take a seat. “Erin and I came up with the perfect movie outfit—including the shoes.”

  “And what exactly is this perfect outfit?” Visions of micro minis and low-cut tops danced in my head, mocking me. It was one thing to stand around in a super-short skirt. It was another to sit in a movie theater and have the world get a sneak peek at your underwear.

  Or thong—they had already insisted that I would be wearing one for the date.

  “You’ll see once we’re finished,” Erin said before disappearing from the kitchen.

  The next twenty minutes involved Holly making up one side of my face, then getting me to replicate the results. Her goal wasn’t to make me look like someone on the cover of Vogue, with more makeup than I wear in a week. But the end result was two steps above my usual level of sexiness—which was pretty much non-existent.

  “If you were wearing an evening gown and attending a gala event, you would want to wear even more makeup than this,” she explained. “But glamorous sexiness isn’t the right look for you. You should play up the innocent sexy-kitten vibe you pull off so well.”

  “But remember, you don’t want to come off as easy,” Erin said, jumping into the next part of my lesson on sexual confidence. My head was spinning from all the information they were throwing at me. “You want to be friendly, approachable, and non-intimidating, but never easy.”

  “That’s right. The goal is for him not to wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am you and you never see him again. You want him unable to stop thinking about you after the date.”

  I nodded as I tried to absorb everything they’d been telling me for the past hour.

  Wow, being sexy was a lot of work.

  But they did have a point. While I was dating Owen, did he ever think about me when he was supposed to focus on his cl
asses, focus on his internship, focus on his cases? I doubted it.

  He’d never texted me just to let me know that he was thinking about me.

  Nor had he ever left Post-It notes around the house like Darren did for Erin.

  No, when it came down to it, there had been only one person who had done all of that during the six years we dated.

  Me.

  Holly took a sip of her frozen strawberry daiquiri. “What’s the best sex you’ve ever had?”

  Now here’s the thing. Say you’ve only eaten burgers from a fast food chain. They aren’t bad, but they’re all the same. There’s no variation. None stand out from all the other ones you’ve eaten there.

  Welcome to my former sex life with Owen.

  That wasn’t to say it was bad—but there hadn’t been anything earth shattering about it either. There was no one time that stood out in my mind, because like with the fast food chain, each sexual act was exactly the same as the ones before it…and the ones that followed.

  Plus, sex with Owen had been vanilla—nothing like the sex in the erotic romances I’d been known to read.

  So there lay my dilemma. What was I supposed to do? Be a guy and exaggerate the truth? Because from the looks on Erin’s and Holly’s faces, they were expecting something worthy of a romance novel.

  I let out a long how-do-I-answer-this sigh.

  “Ohmigod,” Erin said in a rush. “Please tell me you at least had orgasms with Owen.”

  “Sure I did.” Most of the time.

  Okay, truthfully?

  Fifty percent of the time.

  Except near the end of our relationship. Drop the five from that number and you had how many orgasms I’d experienced in the final three months. And by three months, I meant the three months we were still having sex, which, by then, had fizzled to once or twice a week—if even that.

  While I sipped on my frozen strawberry daiquiri, giving myself a happy buzz, Erin and Holly shared about the best sex of their lives.

  And color me jealous. I wanted their sex lives.

  Because it wasn’t just one story each.

  There had to be a least ten altogether. And that was just for starters.

  “All right then, what’s the worst sex you’ve ever had?” Holly asked, and they automatically turned to me, suspecting I had a lot of stories to share, no doubt.

  “I guess it had to be when Owen and I first started having sex,” I said, feeling a little guilty at what I was going to tell them. But not too guilty, given I didn’t have any “great sex moments” to share with them. “I was living in the dorm and he was still living with his parents. So we had to have sex in his car. And…um…he came but didn’t realize I hadn’t, and that was the end of that.”

  Erin’s eyes went wide, like the end of a stick of dynamite, fuse lit. “This was just the one time, right? Please tell me sex wasn’t always like that for you.”

  “No, it got better.” Once he finally got his own apartment.

  Holly raised her daiquiri glass. “We need to make a toast.” She indicated for Erin and I to pick up our drinks. “To Kelsey finding someone who rocks her world when it comes to sex, so that next time we don’t have to feel so sorry for her.”

  I laughed and raised my glass. “Here, here.”

  11

  Kelsey

  Standing in the steamy bathroom, wearing only a towel, I held up the black thong. Holly had told me to wear it tonight for the date, and maybe she was right.

  Yeah, yeah. I remembered the part about not being “easy” in that long list of advice Holly and Erin had given me. And yes, the “old-fashioned” way was to go out with the guy a few times and then have sex. But had the creator of that dumb rule ever tried to survive for over a year sex-free?

  No, I didn’t think so either.

  And it wasn’t like I was going to be easy. I was going to be everything they’d said. But if he asked…well, then I was prepared to have some fun. Wasn’t that what being sexually confident was all about?

  I slipped on the thong and matching black satin bra, then repeated several times to my reflection, “I’ve got it going on! No man can resist me.”

  It didn’t matter how many times I said it and it didn’t matter if I was wearing sexy underwear, the words didn’t sink in. It didn’t help that Owen had never treated me like I was sexy. And it also didn’t help that his interest in doing the deed had gone south for the winter (and never returned) during the last nine months of our relationship. Maybe that had been partly my fault. If I’d been more confident like the magazines suggested, I would have found out what excited him and our sex life would’ve been better, richer.

  Existent.

  I quickly finished getting ready for the date, slipping on my skinny low-rise jeans and the sexy sleeveless top Erin and Holly had insisted I buy when we were shopping. I left the top buttons undone so my cleavage showed. The white fabric clung to my body, and revealed a thin strip of skin between the hem of my top and the waistband of my jeans. My black bra was visible through the fabric, but they had insisted that only made me look sexier.

  I headed downstairs. As I reached the bottom step, my cell phone pinged. Thinking it was Jeff telling me he would be late—or worse yet, canceling—I checked the message.

  It wasn’t from Jeff. It was from Trent. What are you up to?

  Going out

  With Erin?

  No, I have a date

  Anyone I know?

  Doubt it. And even if he did know the guy, I wouldn’t tell him. Not after what happened during my date with the Viking.

  So where are you going?

  Out

  Out where?

  Out out. Yeah, I was being a bitch. Could you blame me?

  Be careful, okay?

  I knew he was only saying that because of Liam and Erin, but a warmth flickered inside me at his concern.

  Thanks. I will.

  The doorbell rang, ending any further conversation.

  At the sight of Jeff wearing black jeans, a black leather jacket, and a black T-shirt, my jaw dropped open, killing the sexy look I should’ve been aiming for—unless my goal was to go for the let-me-give-you-a-blow-job-now look.

  I snapped my mouth shut.

  “Hey, Kelsey.” His gaze skimmed down my body. His lips curved up and his handsome face became breathtaking. “You look great.”

  I smiled, and every sexually confident cell in my body high-fived. “You look great too.”

  “You ready?”

  Slipping on my stilettos, I nodded, then stepped out of the house and locked the door behind me.

  I followed him, my heels clicking against the stone path.

  And then I froze.

  Do you see it? Yes, that’s it. The motorcycle sitting on my driveway.

  Crap.

  My heart jumped into my throat, ready to make a great escape. I’d never been on a motorcycle before. It hadn’t even been on my bucket list.

  Jeff didn’t notice that I had stopped. He grabbed the two helmets sitting on the bike. I took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and joined him. He handed me a helmet and climbed onto his bike.

  Where’s your sense of adventure, Kels?

  Thank God Trent didn’t know about this. The same for my brother. Both would’ve had a fit if they knew I was about to climb onto the bike with a near stranger. A friend of theirs in high school had been killed while riding a cycle. After that, my parents had made me promise never to ride one.

  But my parents were gone and Trent and Liam weren’t here. Praying that I wasn’t about to make a mistake of epic proportions, I climbed on behind Jeff. He started his engine.

  And we were off.

  Racing down the street.

  With me trying not to scream.

  I clung on tightly, my arms around his waist. Unfortunately, his jacket prevented me from feeling the amazing abs I knew he was sporting.

  How did I know? Erin might have possibly looked him up on the social media sites. And I might
have accidentally on purpose looked over her shoulder while she was oohing and aahing over his abs.

  At the movie theater, Jeff bought the tickets while I purchased the drinks. Neither of us was interested in popcorn.

  And it didn’t take long to figure out why Jeff didn’t want any popcorn. Does the word octopus mean anything to you? The movie had barely begun when his hands were all over me. They started off innocently at first. The subtle glide of his finger against the back of my hand. That progressed to hand holding, which rapidly progressed to his hand on my upper inner thigh.

  He shifted his hand and placed pressure on my clit through my jeans, which responded with a chorus of “Ohhh yes!”

  Remember, you don’t want to come off as easy. You want to be friendly, approachable, and non-intimidating, but never easy, Erin’s voice echoed in my head.

  But was this really me being easy? He was only touching me. We hadn’t ripped off any clothing, yet. And I wasn’t going to let that happen in the middle of the movie theater. That wouldn’t be about being sexually confident. That would be crazy.

  He continued touching me, the pressure through my jeans inching me closer to coming. This had to stop before I started moaning. Sure, the movie was loud, especially with the car-chase scene currently going on, but I was positive the people in front of us would hear me moan regardless of the movie’s volume.

  I interlaced my fingers with his and shifted his hand to my knee. Undeterred, he moved our hands to his crotch and placed mine over his hard length. Pride rushed through me that I had that effect on him.

  I smiled and leaned in. “Not now. Not here.”

  He let go of my hand. Disappointment stomped through me like a stubborn child. Even though I wasn’t comfortable taking things further in the theater, that didn’t mean I wanted him to stop holding my hand. To give me a sign that this wasn’t all about the sex for him.

  I exhaled a long breath. Why did dating have to be so hard?

  I sat through the rest of the movie, only half watching it while silently debating whether I should call Trent to pick me up and forget this night ever happened.

  The devil on my shoulder voiced her opinion loud and clear. Yes, Jeff was only interested in one thing, but at least it would be fun—and I could finally end this super-long dry spell.