by Mari Carr
Assume the Positions
Mari Carr
Book five of the Cougar Challenge series.
Damn Cougar Challenge!
Rachel’s thankful for the new friends she met while attending an erotica-book convention. They instantly connected and began sharing the relationship woes unique to older single women on their Tempt the Cougar blog. Then Monica issues that challenge… How is Rachel going to convince a younger man to have sex with her? Hell, even she doesn’t want to look at herself naked. To control her growing angst, she makes a list of eligible men then… Nothing. It’s been too long and her divorce was too painful. She’ll never be able to do this.
Ethan, one of Rachel’s physical therapy patients, is pissed when he learns of the challenge. Not because he finds it silly—because he’s not on Rachel’s list! So he does what any self-assured young stud would do. The luscious police officer gives her a copy of the Kama Sutra then asks her to make a new list.
And assume the positions…
An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com
Assume the Positions
ISBN 9781419925313
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Assume the Positions Copyright © 2009 Mari Carr
Edited by Kelli Collins
Cover art by Syneca
Electronic book publication November 2009
The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
ASSUME THE POSITIONS
Mari Carr
Dedication
This story is dedicated to the ladies of International Heat. Your support of my writing has been a godsend to me this past year. Jess, Joy, Jayne, Jambrea, Lexxie, Lila, Valerie, Viv, T and Rhian—you gals ROCK!
Author Note
You’ll find the women of Cougar Challenge and the Tempt the Cougar blog at www.temptthecougar.blogspot.com/
Trademarks Acknowledgements
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
eBay: eBay Inc.
Friends: Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.
L’Oréal: L’Oréal Societe Anonyme France
Milky Way: Mars Incorporated
Nerf: Hasbro Inc.
RomantiCon: Jasmine Jade Enterprises
Starbucks: Starbucks Corporation
Voldemort: JK Rowling Mari Carr
Chapter One
Rachel Bridges stared at the computer screen and sighed. She was generally a happy-go-lucky kind of girl, but lately she couldn’t fight back the brief spurts of depression that plagued her.
Since her friend Monica had issued that ridiculous dare—Cougar Challenge, she called it—more than a few of her online pals had actually gone out and found themselves younger men. Crap, a couple of the girls had actually hooked up with two younger men. Her friends were turning out to be fearless and adventurous, and Rachel couldn’t help but be envious as she read about their sexual liaisons on the Tempt the Cougar blog they’d created together.
She’d met all but one of the women at RomantiCon, a conference for erotic romance novel fans. In one weekend, she’d formed a tighter bond with these women than with any friends she’d made in all of her thirty-seven years. Besides their shared love of hot books, they’d really connected personally as they shared their struggles to cope with the harsh realities of getting older. They’d been a godsend for Rachel at a time when loneliness and her own mortality had begun kicking her in the ass on a daily basis.
She clicked on her IM list, grateful to find Autumn online. Since buying a ranch on eBay and finding the hunkiest cowboy in Texas, her friend had been on the blog less and less. Having too much great sex all the time was clearly cutting into Autumn’s computer time. Bitch.
Rachel: Hey.
Autumn: What’s up, buttercup?
Rachel: My life sucks.
She was aware she was whining, but she didn’t care. She was PMSing and the damn vending machine ate her last three quarters without giving her the Milky Way she wanted. Now her hip hurt from beating the machine and the stupid son of a bitch was still dangling there, taunting her from across the room.
Autumn: Why?
Rachel: I’m never going to be able to complete Monica’s challenge. There’s no way I can find a younger man to sleep with me. Hell, I can’t find an old man to have sex with.
She’d never been into the club scene and she basically sucked at flirting. In fact, the entire concept of using her feminine wiles to attract the opposite sex struck her as downright silly. The few times she’d gone out to bars, she’d spent the entire time laughing at the antics of other women as they attempted to hook up. Her bizarre sense of humor clearly overshadowed every girly personality trait she possessed.
Her mother viewed her lack of relationships differently, saying she was far too practical for her own good and teasing her good-naturedly about the fact there wasn’t a romantic bone in her whole body. There was probably a basis of truth in both theories.
Autumn: Men would love to sleep with you. You’re pretty, successful, funny. Oh hell…where are you, sweetie?
Rachel stared around at the empty physical therapy office where she worked and grimaced.
Rachel: Work.
Autumn: That’s what I thought. Get the hell out of there. It’s Friday night. Get dolled up and hit a bar.
Rachel: I can’t. I have a client coming in.
Autumn: Dammit, Rach. You’re not even trying to find a guy. I hate to break it to you, but you aren’t going to find Mr. Right by hiding out at work all the time. You’ve got to get out there and take some chances.
Rachel: I know, but hitting the pick-up scene again is just too damn depressing.
Autumn: I really think this lack of confidence is your ex-husband’s fault. You’re letting him win.
Rachel: Voldemort already won.
Autumn: LMAO. He’d shit himself if he knew that’s how you referred to him.
Rachel: Truth hurts. Besides, can you blame me for being trigger shy? My whole life has been one big fucking cliché. Worked my ass off to support the shithead so he could attend medical school then dump me.
Autumn: He didn’t deserve you.
Rachel: No, apparently he deserved his twenty-something blonde nurse. You do realize the only way I’m going to get the image of them screwing in our bed out of my mind is to scratch my eyes out.
Autumn: At least you kicked the bum out on his ass.
Rachel: Wasn’t much of a kick. He wanted her, so he left. Catching them in the act just saved him the trouble of telling me.
After she’d divorced her husband,
Rachel had pursued her own dreams, going back to school to work toward her physical therapy degree. For nearly six years, she’d managed to work herself into oblivion in hopes of avoiding the concept of “getting out there”. During the stressful time after her divorce, she’d turned to erotic romance as a means of escape. Curling up in bed with a hunky fictional character was a hell of a lot easier than dealing with a real flesh-and-blood man.
Autumn: Christ, Rachel. Don’t you miss hot, sweaty, set-the-sheets-on-fire sex?
She rolled her eyes. The only man she’d ever had sex with—her ex-husband—had made reading the changes in tax laws seem exciting in comparison.
Rachel: Hard to miss what you never had.
Autumn: All the more reason to get out there.
Rachel: Yeah. I guess you’re right. Thanks for the pep talk.
Autumn: Is that what this was? Because, sweetie, you don’t seem much peppier. Guess it’s a good thing I never went out for cheerleading in high school. Of course, with my lack of hips, I’d have spent the entire time cheering with that little skirt around my ankles. Nothing to hold it up.
Rachel grinned. Even through IMs, Autumn always managed to make her laugh.
Rachel: Talking to you always helps. Give Mitch a kiss for me.
Autumn: I will. Bye, sweetie.
She closed her computer rather than go back to the Cougar blog. Tonight, listening to all her friends chatter about their fun lives just deepened her depression. Hearing them talk about overcoming their problems and finding their dreams left her to wonder if there was something seriously wrong with her. She’d been dragged along with the Cougar Challenge and now they were expecting her to go out and have a fling with not just a man, but a younger man.
Shit.
She’d never be able to do that. She was too sensible to go around flirting with younger men who in all likelihood wouldn’t even notice her pathetic efforts. She was more the gal-pal type than the “pick up a stranger in a bar” sort of woman.
She pulled out the tatty notebook she always carried with her and flipped through the pages until she found the list she was looking for. She’d started keeping lists back in high school and the habit had never gone away. Once she filled a notebook, she bought a new one, loading the pages with list after list on every subject under the sun. In the beginning they were a way to stay organized. As she got older, they’d begun to also serve the purpose of reminding her of various things as she tended to be more forgetful.
She found the page she was looking for and scanned her pitiful list of potential younger men once again. She’d been keeping a running list since the night Monica issued the challenge, adding and marking out names for months. Unfortunately, the list was as pitiful now as it had been when she’d started it. There were currently seven names on the page, but four of those had been scratched out for various reasons. The three remaining prospects weren’t exactly thrilling. She leaned her head against her desk chair and fought back a groan. Apparently, she wasn’t cougar material after all.
She glanced at the clock, closed her eyes and sighed. Ethan was late again. Officer Russell was her most disgruntled patient. As a physical therapist, she was used to treating people who preferred to ignore their injuries, who chose instead to carry on with their normal activities without regard for the fact they were doing themselves more harm. Ethan took the award for stubbornness.
For the past eight weeks, she’d worked with him as he recovered from a gunshot wound to his upper leg. If not for the police department’s strict policy on the treatment of work-related injuries, she was certain Ethan would never have darkened her door, and it had taken more than a little bit of convincing on her part to get him to take the exercises and recovery strategy seriously.
If she had any feminine wiles at all, she’d be using the handsome twenty-eight-year-old officer to practice her seduction skills. But her work ethic prohibited her from becoming involved with a patient and her damn practicality prohibited basically everything else in regards to Ethan Russell.
“Whatcha doin’, Doc? Sleeping?”
“Oh shit!” She jumped out of her chair, her heart racing at the sudden sound in the room. She hadn’t heard Ethan walk in. There he stood, six feet four inches of mouth-watering perfection, with wavy dark brown hair and a smile that reduced her insides to utter mush. His hot-chocolate-colored gaze should be registered as lethal as his work-issued gun.
His grin at her alarm was remorseless. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Napping on the clock,” he teased.
She shook her head and ignored his comment. “You’re late. Again.”
He shrugged, unconcerned. “Caught a bad guy right at the end of shift. Lousy paperwork took awhile.”
“You couldn’t call?” she asked, aware her voice was snippy, but he’d truly frightened the hell out of her.
He looked at the clock that hung on the wall. “I’m only five minutes late, Rachel.”
She gave him a crooked smile and acknowledged the truth of his words. “Sorry,” she muttered. “Bad day.”
“Lose a list or something?” he asked, gesturing toward her notebook. He’d teased her relentlessly about her list fetish ever since asking about the book one night. She’d foolishly shown him the thing and for some reason, he’d found her fervent list-keeping hysterical.
“Ha ha. No, Mr. Smart Ass, I didn’t lose a list. I just don’t happen to like the one I’m working on.”
He quirked his eyebrows with interest and she cursed her loose tongue. The last thing she needed was to give the man another reason to ridicule her. He already had far too much fun at her expense. A fact, she had to admit, she sort of enjoyed. They seemed to share the same twisted sense of humor. In addition to being too hot for words, Ethan was funny and friendly and it hadn’t exactly been a hardship to volunteer to stay late to accommodate his crazy work schedule.
“Forget it,” she said quickly, hoping to deter his sudden interest.
“Let me see your list. Maybe I can help you with it.” Ethan grabbed her notebook and she swiftly attempted to pull it out of his grasp. They struggled over the book for several seconds before she lost her grip.
“It’s personal,” she said loudly when he won their tug-of-war. Her protest was too late as he read the heading on the page.
“Potential Younger Men for Cougar Challenge?”
Rachel prayed to God he didn’t know what “cougar” meant. She’d only learned of the term while reading her erotic romance novels. She’d been shocked to discover how much the idea of an older woman hooking up with a younger man turned her on, pushed her hot buttons.
“It’s just something silly…something stupid, really. Give me back my notebook and we’ll get started on your exercises.”
Ethan ignored her and she watched as he scanned the list of names. When he closed the book with a snap, she flinched at the unfamiliar look on his face. She’d never seen him look so serious or…angry. “What are you doing, Rachel? What the hell is this list about?”
She took a step back, confused by his reaction. Over the course of the past two months, she’d felt a friendship forming between her and the young cop. As a result, she now found her fears, her anxiety over the challenge falling from her lips uncontrolled.
Even though she was sure she was making a mistake, she told him everything—from meeting her friends at the conference to the blog to the dare to sleep with a younger man. She didn’t leave out a single detail and throughout her entire confession, Ethan was quiet. In the end, it was his silence that unnerved her more than his initial anger.
“So there,” she said at last. “That should keep you busy in the teasing department for months. I’m an insane, horny-as-hell woman who’s actually contemplating throwing herself at a younger man on a dare. And before you say anything, yes, I know…I’m old enough to know better.” She walked away from him as she said the last, too embarrassed to face him.
She’d only made it two steps when he reached out and gripped her forearm, turning her ba
ck around. “Old enough to know better?” he asked. “You think you couldn’t land a younger guy?”
“Maybe I could,” she said, surprised to find him taking this conversation so seriously. “I mean, I don’t think I’m unattractive, just sort of out of practice with the whole dating scene.”
Ethan grinned and she spied the usual mischievous sparkle in his gaze that she’d grown accustomed to over the past few weeks. “Wish you’d mentioned this horny problem of yours earlier, Rach.”
“It’s not something a polite woman advertises,” she said.
He continued pulling her toward him until they stood face-to-face, close enough that she could smell his skin, a pleasant combination of fresh shower, soap and—yummy—man. Rather than look up, she stared straight ahead, placing her line of vision at the top of his chest. There was no way she could look at his handsome face and not spend the rest of their session imagining him naked. He wore a tight T-shirt and she could just imagine what his bare pecs would look like. She swallowed heavily, her mouth watering at the thought.
“Isn’t that a shame,” Ethan added. “Advertisements like that sure would take a lot of the guess work out of dating.”
“I haven’t been doing a lot of dating since my divorce from Voldemort.”
“Mm hmm.” She felt certain if she hadn’t been standing so closely, she wouldn’t have heard the small, guttural sound—a growl?—that emanated from him. Did it make him angry to hear her mention her ex? “Look at me, Rachel,” he said as she felt his gaze bore through the top of her head.
“I am,” she said, her eyes remaining locked in place, several inches below his chin.
He reached down and gently forced her head back with firm fingers at her jaw. She took a deep breath and faced him. His head was cocked to the side, his lips painfully close to hers. An impractical woman would lean forward and initiate a kiss. A woman without any common sense would rise up on her tiptoes, close the gap separating them and take a nice, long taste of him. An adventurous woman—