the man.”
“That’s the point of a one-night stand, Jana,” Chloe spoke slowly, as if Jana were mentally challenged. Sexually challenged, yes. That she couldn’t deny.
“It’s only supposed to be about sex,” Lauren added.
Chloe grinned. “Stress-free sex.”
“Tension-relieving sex,” Lauren threw in and laughed.
He made another selection from the jukebox. “Hot sex,” Jana whispered as she envisioned his hands undressing her, gliding over her body. Lack of personal experience at fantasizing prevented her from taking the fantasy all the way. Oh, and how she wanted to actually go there and experience being swept away into a wild vortex of intense pleasure.
“Too bad you’re not interested,” Lauren said. “He looks like he’d be real good, too.”
Jana frowned and turned to look at her friend. She moved a tad too quickly and the room tilted for a split second before righting itself again. “What do you mean he looks like he’d be real good?”
Lauren shrugged. “He’s got the look. Doesn’t he, Chloe?”
Chloe reached for her drink and looked in his direction. “Hmm,” she practically purred. “Absolutely.” The lazy Southern drawl she usually tried to mask suddenly became more prominent.
“Back off, Scarlett,” Jana warned good-naturedly. “I saw him first.”
“Then do something about it,” Chloe told her. “For once in your life, let your hair down and enjoy yourself.”
“I enjoy myself,” Jana tried to sound convincing.
“If you did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Lauren reminded her. “Go for it, Jana.”
Jana glanced his way again. Boy, was she ever tempted. But… “What do I say? ‘Hey there, handsome. Wanna go somewhere quiet and turn up the heat?’ Tacky.”
She’d definitely had too much to drink, otherwise she’d never consider actually approaching a total stranger, no matter how sexually intriguing she found him.
Chloe let out a sigh filled with exasperation. “I told you, get his attention, flirt and just be receptive to whatever might happen next.”
Lauren leaned forward. “If he’s interested, he might even make the first move.”
“If he doesn’t,” Chloe added, “then it’s up to you.”
Jana reached for her drink and downed a healthy dose of courage. She set the glass down with a bang, having every intention of making a grand exit from the table.
She didn’t move. As much as she would like to, picking up strange men in a bar simply didn’t compute. “I can’t.”
A sly smile curved Chloe’s lips. “I dare you, Jana.”
Jana groaned. She hated this game. She really did. Whenever she was foolish enough to rise to one of Chloe’s or Lauren’s challenges, nine times out of ten Jana ended up regretting her own stubborn nature. Ladylike behavior or not, the one thing she’d never been able to resist was a dare. She had a two-inch scar from stitches on her backside as proof of her foolishness from the time her older sister Caroline had dared her to sneak out one night for a party they’d been forbidden to attend. They’d jumped a fence, and Jana’s shorts had caught on a loose wire that had penetrated the material and pierced her rear end.
Lauren leaned back and folded her arms. “I double dare you.”
“Don’t do this to me,” Jana warned.
Not to be outdone, Chloe ignored the warning and taunted her, “I triple, double-dog dare you.”
Everybody knew you couldn’t ignore a triple, double-dog dare. Doing so went against everything that was holy.
“Fine. You win.” Jana stood abruptly. “I’ll go talk to him, but that’s all I’m going to do.” Dare or no dare, she was not going to approach the man and ask him to be the next notch on her lipstick case. She made a quick adjustment to the brown leather belt cinched at her waist before she smoothed her hands down her slim, olive-green linen skirt.
Lauren stood, her bracelets rattling as she quickly undid the top three buttons of Jana’s blouse, revealing more than a hint of cleavage. “Now you’re ready,” she proclaimed with enough authority Jana didn’t dare close the buttons.
“Go,” Chloe ordered.
Jana spun around toward the jukebox. Mr. Wonderful turned at the same time. Their eyes met and held. Once again, her stomach dipped and swirled. Her palms started to sweat and her heart beat a frantic pace in her chest.
The barest hint of a smile tilted the corner of his mouth.
It was all the invitation she needed.
2
IF THERE WAS one thing Ben Perry didn’t need tonight, it was the attention of a woman. Unfortunately his steadily rising testosterone had given him other ideas the minute he saw a stunning, slender blonde with a body that put air-brushed supermodels to shame, headed straight for him.
Big, mesmerizing eyes, the color of rich jade, held his gaze with a determination and intensity that snared not only his attention, but jolted his libido with the force of a bolt of lightning. Before he had time to consider the consequences, he made the drastic error of encouraging her with a smile.
He stood in the middle of the crowded bar as if he’d been planted there, unable to look away as she neared. The teasing grin curved her full lips. She had the kind of mouth destined to stir a man’s erotic fantasies.
Okay, so a beautiful, intoxicating woman sparked his interest. A lot. That didn’t mean he had to act on the impulse. He hadn’t come to the Ivory Turtle looking for some fun for the night. In fact, he wouldn’t have come at all if Scorch and Brady hadn’t hijacked his pickup truck. Although he deeply appreciated their show of support after the emotionally charged week they’d all been through, he would’ve much rather spent the night alone in his quiet beach house.
He wasn’t like them; he didn’t feel the need to raise a little hell in a desperate reaffirmation of life in the face of tragedy. They all knew the dangers of the job, accepting and facing them on a daily basis. Despite stringent safety measures, accidents still occurred. The bitch of it was, this one had happened on his watch, to one of his men.
The blonde closed in on him, granting him the opportunity of an enlightening inspection. She was tall, more willowy than his first impression of her, with gentle curves and an intriguing sway of her hips as she walked purposely toward him. She was dressed conservatively for a Friday night, at least compared to ninety percent of the other female patrons. Her sleeveless blouse showed off the remnants of a summer tan and was tucked into a long straight skirt that fell just past her calves, shielding her legs from view. That didn’t stop his testosterone-induced imagination from running just a tad on the wild side. Sensible low-heeled brown pumps covered her feet, rather than the pair of CFM heels conjured by his wicked imagination.
She
