With His Touch. Dawn Atkins
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“What?” She tilted her head, lips pursed, ready to haggle.
“Let me show you the magic of Spice It Up.”
“I know the magic. I helped create it.” They both shared the conviction that couples’ therapy required deep examination of intimacy in a relaxed environment, which was what they strove to create at Spice It Up. Gage came to that knowledge through research—he’d done extensive studies of the literature. Sugar had formed her opinions after three years as a couples’ therapist. A weekend retreat was often just the start of transformation, so she’d wanted an environment to comfortably pursue more success, more intimacy.
“You’ve forgotten a lot. We both have. I want us to sample the guest experience.”
“You want us to stay together? In a suite?”
“Not stay. Just get a feel for it. We can register, go through the orientation with Erika, plan a schedule, choose workshops, even participate, all to gather impressions of how it is to stay at Spice It Up.”
“And what about…this?” She motioned between them, her eyes hot. She was excited, but also nervous.
“Sex would be too easy.”
“Too easy, huh?” She sighed, but he felt her relief. What had just happened between them had upset her.
“We’re doing this as partners.”
“But the whole point of Spice It Up is to improve a couple’s sex life. Intimacy through sex. Healing through sex. Exercises for sex. Sex, sex, sex.”
“We can work around that, can’t we? We’re more than our urges.” Yeah, right. There was just a bit of glove leather between him and her naked body and if she said sex one more time with those lips, he couldn’t be held accountable for his actions. He shifted his body to hide the proof of his distress.
“You would say that.” She sighed. “Mr. Self-Control.”
She had no idea. Just two zippers and he’d have heaven. Forget soothing her doubts, forget the plan, just get in. Why the hell not sleep with her and be done with it?
Because he was more than a chest-pounding primate. He wanted sex with Sugar to count. He wanted all of her—heart and soul, body and mind. He’d waited this long. What was one more month?
She shifted beside him, making the leather jacket swell over her breasts, and her skirt ride higher. Her panties had felt thin. Lace? Black, maybe?
One more month would be hell on wheels.
He would manage it somehow. He would surprise her with the resort and with himself while he was at it, show her she was safe with him. She could fall in love and be happy.
“It would give me ideas for the franchise package, I guess.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder, crossed her legs and wiggled one foot—a sure sign she was intrigued. Her skirt shot even higher, so he focused on her feet.
She had puffy toes and a high arch he would love to massage until she moaned. Muscular calves, too, that would feel so good locked around his ass and…
“So, no sex?” she asked, as if she’d read his mind.
“No sex.” He pushed to his feet, slightly hunched.
“You okay?”
“Charley horse,” he said, knowing she’d caught him. This was merely the first of countless moments of sexual agony he would endure in the coming weeks. Worth every twinge if it got Sugar in his life.
4
BACK HOME in San Diego, Sugar pushed ahead of Gage into the Spice It Up lobby, headed for the check-in desk, ready to launch their plan. Gage caught up and took her hand. “Hold on. Look at what we built.” He gestured at the lobby spread out before them, pulling her closer. When he released her fingers, the warmth lingered.
Damn. Since the Expo Incident, there was extra warmth to every breath or touch or smile they shared. Ridiculous, really, and it complicated everything.
Sugar’s gaze floated from the cream marble tile to the polished mahogany walls, from the overstuffed velvet love seats and sofas to the lush Oriental rug in the cozy conversation pit, everything in the resort’s colors of violet, teal and gold. On cool evenings, the massive fireplace crackled and popped with licking flames. She sighed with pleasure.
Gage had a point. Every subtle element was deliberate—meant to create an atmosphere of warmth, sensuality, intimacy and connection. She had to be certain the franchises included the crucial items.
A gigantic flower arrangement stood on a huge table in the center of the lobby. Violet bird-of-paradise, apple-green orchids, purple irises and marigolds stood out against a background of white roses, baby’s breath and freesia.
A few feet away was the gleaming grand piano where music students from the nearby college played for the guests each evening.
For now, piped-in romantic music filled the air, along with the alluring scent of the flowers, lemon oil and vanilla-lavender candles in clusters large and small. Behind the elegant, dark-wood reception counter, staff was busy with guests. Completing her visual sweep, Sugar found Gage waiting for her. “You’re right. We did good, huh?”
Gage smiled in what seemed to be triumph. What was that about? Oh, yeah. She’d forgotten they were in the middle of a debate.
To show him she hadn’t given an inch, she popped the steno pad from the pocket of her laptop carrier and readied a pen. “Mahogany and marble aren’t essential,” she said, writing her thoughts, “but the franchises must include a fireplace, the piano and real flowers, don’t you agree?”
Gage blew out a breath. “I suppose so. Yeah.”
She’d made her point—she was working toward the franchises—and fought a grin. “Shall we check in?”
“Sure you don’t want to wait until after the staff meeting?” Every Monday at eleven, the staff gathered to touch base on the upcoming week’s events.
“More fun to get a natural reaction from the front desk.”
To avoid alarming employees, they’d agreed to tell everyone they were working on a new marketing campaign, which was true enough, since they would use what they noticed in all their promotional materials. Once they’d decided about the franchising, they’d bring staff on board. Less anxiety that way in an industry fraught with turmoil.
“This could start rumors about us being a couple,” Gage said, picking up his briefcase.
“We’ll be absolutely clear, that’s all,” Sugar said.
“Oh, you bet,” he said. “That’ll do the trick.” But he seemed entirely too peppy and pleased with himself. Why? His plan fit perfectly with her own. She’d hardly given in at all, but he acted as though he’d bested her.
“Allowing rumors won’t help either of us,