we,” Chloe corrected Lauren. “You.”
Jana didn’t care who came up with the idea, it was still nuts. “A one-night stand?”
“Sure.” Lauren shrugged carelessly. “Why not?”
Jana could think of a few reasons. First, it wasn’t her style. Second, it could be dangerous. Third…Her gaze slipped back to the gorgeous specimen still at the jukebox. “I don’t know.”
She wasn’t really considering Lauren’s crackpot plan, was she?
Of course not. Despite the stubborn streak that sometimes got them into trouble, Linney women simply did not entertain one-night stands. They were trained in the values of appropriate ladylike behavior practically from the cradle. No wonder she’d never had an orgasm. She and her sisters had probably been sent subliminal messages while in the womb.
She allowed her gaze to slip over to him again. He remained in front of the jukebox, reading the music choices. Something must have stirred his interest because he slipped a bill into the slot then made a selection. She smiled when the first strains from one of her favorite Alan Jackson songs filtered through the speaker system. What would it be like to make love to a man who appreciated the same soulful music she did? Would he be gentle? Caring? Would he put her needs before his own?
Jana snagged the Screaming Orgasm before the waitress set it in front of her, then took a long drink. What was she thinking? Not only was the thought of a one-night stand completely foreign to her, she couldn’t remember ever fantasizing about a total stranger…until him. In fact, now that she thought about it, she’d never fantasized about any man.
“What’s to know?” Chloe slipped the waitress a twenty, then waited until she’d disappeared before continuing. “You find someone you think is attractive, you get his attention, you flirt then you seduce him right out of his B.V.D.s.”
Jana zeroed in on Mr. Tall, Dark and Hunky again. What good would it do? There was probably something physically wrong with her anyway. Some sexual glitch that prevented her from experiencing the ultimate fulfillment. Or maybe, as her friends had suggested, she’d just been sleeping with the wrong men.
Oh yeah, that was it, she thought sarcastically as she downed more of her Screaming Orgasm. Although she didn’t necessarily believe in all that glass-slipper propaganda, she wasn’t exactly a card-carrying member of the men-are-pigs-society, either.
She’d had her share of relationships. Did it really make a difference that she could count them all on one hand, starting with the out-of-character fling she’d had with the local bad boy the summer before she left for college? The best thing she could say about her first sexual experience was that it had been over quickly. She’d been saved the humiliation of having to face Brad Hilliard again when she, Lauren and Chloe had left for Arizona State University two days later.
She’d even had a serious relationship in college. Although she rated Everett Copeland a two on the knowing-how-to-please-his-woman scale, she probably would have married him if he hadn’t transferred to Florida State his senior year.
Truth be told, she was great at relationships. She’d never heard a single complaint about her own skills outside of the bedroom. The problem always started when her lover resorted to drastic measures to bring her to orgasm, then blamed her when she didn’t achieve one.
She didn’t think she was frigid, because she did become aroused. When it came time for the payoff, however, the big bang fizzled faster than a Fourth of July sparkler. Thanks to repeated viewings of When Harry Met Sally she’d learned how to fake it. Meg’s character hadn’t lied; a man really didn’t know when a woman was putting on an act to salvage his sexual self-esteem. At least, her last two boyfriends hadn’t noticed, but they had been self-absorbed types, so they probably didn’t count anyway.
With her gaze still locked on the delicious-looking backside of Mr. Wonderful, she asked her friends, “How do you know if a man is going to be, you know, unselfish?”
Lauren laughed. “The size of his hands.”
With the icy drink still clutched in her own hand, Jana zeroed in on the hands braced on the edge of the jukebox. They were long, lean and deeply tanned.
“I thought it was his feet,” Chloe added.
Ladylike or not, Jana’s curiosity got the better of her. She tipped her chair back on two legs and craned her neck to get a look at the size of his feet.
“Feet?” Lauren exclaimed.
Jana flinched and nearly toppled backward. Chloe steadied her, saving her from an incredibly embarrassing moment. Nothing like falling at a man’s feet, she thought.
“No way.” Lauren looked over her shoulder toward the jukebox, then turned to Chloe and smiled. “Terrance wore size-fifteen shoes,” she said. “Trust me, it’s the size of his hands. From the base of his palm to the tip of his middle finger.”
With a mountain of willpower, Jana refused to look in the direction of the jukebox again, although she was dying to see for herself the length of the man’s hand.
“I always thought it was in the way he treated a woman,” Jana mused. “You know, kind, gentle and sensitive to a woman’s needs in bed.”
Chloe lifted an arched eyebrow. “You want a real man in your bed, or Richard Simmons?”
“At least Richard Simmons would care about your feelings,” Jana muttered, then took one last sip of her drink before setting it aside.
“Forget feelings,” Chloe told her sagely. “It’s pleasuring your body that counts in a one-night stand.”
Lauren braced her elbow on the table and propped her chin in her palm. “Some men are just better lovers.”
“But how do you know?” Jana turned slightly in her chair. “What about him?” she asked, inclining her head slightly in his direction. “Would he be…?”
“Good in bed?” Chloe finished for her.
Jana nodded.
Lauren shot Chloe a sly glance, then grinned at Jana. “Why don’t you go find out?”
Jana coughed. Good thing she hadn’t been inhaling more of her drink, else her friends would’ve gotten a vodka, triple sec and whatever else shower. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No.” Lauren shook her head. Under the brightly colored lights of the Ivory Turtle, Lauren’s platinum curls were a neon rainbow of color. “I’m not kidding. Why don’t you go over there and ask him?”
Jana couldn’t say what exactly had gotten into her, although she was highly suspicious it was the amount of alcohol she’d consumed. “I could, you know. If I was interested. Only I’m not.”
Chloe arched that brow again. “Sure you’re not. And you didn’t practically fall on your back trying to get a look at his butt, either, right?”
“I was not looking at his…at his behind. I was attempting to gauge the size of his feet.”
“See?” Lauren said, sounding way too chipper for Jana’s peace of mind. “I knew you were interested.”
Jana
