words flew and soon Beth was reading over her first draft, smiling so broadly it hurt. She’d described first-time sex with a sensual man in luscious detail, without being explicit, and ended with her meditative drive home enjoying the intimacy of empty streets in the pre-dawn light.
She had to know what Will thought of this right away, so she slapped the column into an e-mail and shot it through cyberspace. By the time she got to the Phoenix Rising office at ten, Will would be ready to sing her praises.
Her lavender-sprayed sheets welcomed her, but she wished they didn’t carry a scent, so she could keep smelling AJ. Maybe he would call before he left town, just to say goodbye. She couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d looked at her with such appreciation, as if her body, with all its flaws and flab, was gorgeous, as if his whole purpose was to make her feel good.
He was a special man. Or maybe he was just the first of a breed she’d be on the lookout for from now on. Beth had fought the new column tooth and nibbled nail, but she realized now that it was a gift to herself and, she hoped, to her readers.
4
RAFE WOKE AND STRETCHED across the spongy hotel bed, reveling in the open space. Except something was missing. Beth. He usually liked sleeping alone, not having to worry about disturbing a woman when he rolled around or punched the pillows. But this morning he missed Beth.
Sure, he’d been celibate for a while, and hunger made the best sauce, but something about Beth’s wide-eyed pleasure and eager interest had superheated the experience. She’d challenged herself into circulation, evidently—made a bet or accepted a dare from her friend—and he’d been in the right place at the right time to enjoy her win.
The sex had been remarkable. She’d been so focused on every nuance, every movement, as if it were completely new to her. Does this feel good? Do you do this with other women? Why like this and not this? Almost like she was taking notes. She was a technical writer, so of course she’d be detail-oriented. That made him smile.
He wasn’t sure why he’d been ducking sex lately. It was a fine pastime. But the pleasure hadn’t seemed worth the hassle for the last year or so—roughly coinciding with his restlessness at work.
When he had gotten involved, it was never serious. He made certain of that. His parents’ marriage had failed, largely due to his father’s lack of emotional staying power—a lack Rafe believed he shared. So he kept things light with women.
Being a journalist led to a certain dispassion—a neutrality that kept him from really putting his weight down in one place or with one person. Forever was a hell of a long time.
Meeting Beth had been a splash of ice water in the face—fresh and bracing and impossible to ignore—reminding him that not only had he spent too much time alone, but he hadn’t been paying much attention to the little joys of life.
Beth had reacted to sex with the wonder of a child getting her first taste of ice cream, and that was damned erotic. She was sweet and smart and surprisingly innocent. An uncertain sex goddess.
But a hell of a quick learner.
He’d like more, but she was gone. Hell, he didn’t even know her last name. Probably just as well. For all of her one-night-stand enthusiasm, she struck him as a woman who cared a lot about everything. So if last night had been enough for her, that was okay by him.
He was glad he hadn’t told her he’d overheard her phone conversation. The last thing she’d want in her sexual triumph was to think that he’d felt sorry for her in her little-kitty hair thing and shaky heels.
Hungry, he climbed out of bed to locate the room-service menu. He would eat before he headed across the street to the Phoenix Rising office.
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