Talking Sex

by Maxine Sullivan

  TALKING SEX

  BY

  MAXINE SULLIVAN

  KINDLE EDITION

  Copyright © 2012 Maxine Sullivan

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “You want me to do what tonight?” Zac Ryan exclaimed, almost choking over his Australian accent. Maybe he was going deaf since arriving in the States a week ago. He definitely wasn’t hearing right, that’s for sure.

  “I said I want you to go on-air and replace our missing guest,” the spiky-haired radio producer repeated, as if merely asking Zac to pass the salt. “So what do you say, pal? Are you ready for your fifteen minutes of fame?”

  “Only if someone stands me up against a wall and shoots me.” This bloke was insane.

  Leon’s chuckle jingled the gold chains at his neck. “It’s not that bad.”

  “Then you do it,” Zac said, feeling like he’d just walked into a movie, and a bad one at that. One where the good guy –- him –- was about to run into a burning building.

  The young producer shook his head. “Believe me, no one would be interested in anything I have to say.”

  Zac raised a brow. “Then how do you know they’ll be interested in me?”

  “That accent for one thing. It’ll drive the gals wild.”

  Yeah, he’d already come across that a few times since coming to the States a week ago. Hell, he should have kept his mouth shut tonight, instead of passing the time of day with this guy. “But I know nothing about talking on-air,” he felt obliged to point out. “I only came downtown with Adam because he was being interviewed about his toy soldiers.”

  And hadn’t that been a surprise! Not the interview -- the hobby. Having arrived for a three week vacation in the States, he’d discovered he’d had to share Adam’s spare bedroom with a collection of toy soldiers. Wall-to-wall miniatures. Adam had kept them well-hidden on a previous visit a few years ago, but now they had been literally brought out of the closet, which would have made for some great ribbing if his friend hadn’t been such a womanizer.

  Instead Zac had joked “Nightmares’R’Us”, but it was just as well that first night he’d been jetlagged, otherwise the bloody things might have come to life and thrown him in the same movie with the burning building.

  He snorted.

  Yeah, so who would’ve believed it, eh? Adam the Architect collected dolls for Christ’s sake. And the guy was just wrapping up a surprisingly entertaining talk on the subject to the people of Chicago.

  But each to their own…

  Live and let live…

  He’d once collected pet rocks himself.

  The producer began to look frazzled. “Now, Zac… I can call you Zac, can’t I?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “We’re desperate. We need someone and we need them now. The show starts in less than five minutes.”

  Talk about pressure!

  “Look, I --”

  “It’s not hard, you know. We’re only a small station, so you don’t have to split the atom or anything.”

  Zac sent the guy a wry look. “Easy for you to say, mate. You Americans were born with a microphone in your mouth.”

  Leon sent him an equally wry look. “And some would kill their mothers for a chance at talking on-air. You, on the other hand, don’t have to go that far.”

  “I’m relieved,” Zac quipped, not quite believing he was actually thinking of doing this. Wouldn’t that be an experience to take back home to Australia! His parents had wanted him to take a total break from work, hadn’t they? He’d been working hard these past six months helping expand the family business into Brisbane and Melbourne, so they’d told him to go have some fun with Adam. Forced him to, actually. Well, this may not be what they’d had in mind, but it sounded like fun anyway.

  “I’ve never been on the radio before. If I decided to do it, that is.”

  Extreme relief rolled over Leon’s face. “Thanks, buddy!”

  Zac pushed aside his misgivings. “You may live to regret it.”

  “I doubt that.”

  Such confidence. He wished he could feel the same. “So, what was your missing guest going to talk about, Leon? I doubt I’ll be able to talk about the same thing, but maybe it’ll give me some ideas.”

  All at once the other man got an odd gleam in his eyes, like he’d had a lightbulb moment or something. He began scribbling on a notepad. “Just tell them about Australia. Our listeners love hearing about different things.”

  Zac frowned. Different? As in weird different? Hey, at least he didn’t collect toy soldiers. “Yeah, but will they understand me?” he mocked.

  The producer tore off the top sheet of the writing pad. “Better than you understand yourself.” All at once his gaze went to an attractive honey-blonde slipping into the empty booth on the other side of the studio.

  To Zac’s own surprise, he took one look at the woman in her short black skirt and bright pink top, and his body jump-started without a helping hand. It had been a while since he’d been so instantly attracted to someone. After Erin he’d wondered how long it would take to want a woman so much again.

  The producer turned back to him. “What do you say, Zac? Can we tell Cassie you’re a guest for her show?”

  Cassie.

  Hmm. Catchy name. Tempting body. And legs that stretched from here to Sydney. “I suppose I could put a few words together for the lovely lady.”

  “Great!” The other man handed Zac the folded piece of paper. “Here, give her this when you go in.”

  Zac took another look at the woman in the booth and his blood started to pump again. “She’d better be gentle with me. It is my first time after all.”

  Leon grinned. “Goddammit, I think you’re gonna be perfect, Zac Ryan. Just goddamn perfect. Cassie’s gonna thank her lucky stars you agreed to be on “Night Talk”.”

  * * *

  Cassie had about ten seconds to recover from the shock of seeing one-hell-of-a-hunk saunter into the booth and sit down on the other side of the desk. He looked nothing like she imagined from the notes they’d given her this afternoon.

  “No sex for two years and proud of it” she’d read, so she’d expected to see “loser” written all over him. This guy was a winner. Olympic standard. Dark hair and damnable mouth, eyes that ate a woman up, rock hard chest hidden by a black polo shirt, classic-fit beige pants.

  He smiled one-hell-of-a-smile and slid a piece of paper toward her, the sound soft and sensual in the noise-proof room. “Your producer said to give you this,” he said with one-hell-of-an-accent that certainly wasn’t American. She stared as the effects of that voice rippled along her spine like satin sheets over a bed.

  When she didn’t move he pushed the paper closer, his platinum watch glistening under the studio lights. “You’d better read it. It may save my life.”

  His life?

  That brought her out of her stupor. She grabbed the paper and read what Leon had written. “Name’s Zac Ryan, not Bob. From Australia, not California. Go for it, hon. You know what to do.”

  “Terrific,” she mumbled, tossing the paper aside. The staff sometimes got things mixed up but getting the guy’s name wrong, as well as his nationality, topped the list. At least he was a sex therapist…

  And sprouting the benefits of abstinence was going to be an interesting subject to discuss, so all was not lost with the interview, she mused, glancing at this Zac and finding him watching her with an appreciative glint in his blue eyes that said he liked what he saw. She told her suddenly racing pulse to take a h
ike. The guy was a studmuffin but she wasn’t in the market for a bite to eat. Not when she was still getting over a bad case of indigestion from her ex-husband.

  Just then the theme music for her program started and Cassie dumped thoughts of her ex as quickly as he’d dumped her, and forced herself to focus.

  She went straight into her spiel as soon as the music ended. “G..O..O..D…evening, Chicago,” she said into the microphone. “Welcome to “Night Talk”. I’m Cassie King and tonight we have a very special guest for you. And my-oh-my, let me tell you, ladies, he’s gorgeous. Tall, dark and handsome's too dull to describe this guy, folks. He’s got a face that’ll melt the chocolate right out of your mouth, and a body that’ll do wonders for your imagination. To top it off he’s Australian, and he’s here to discuss everyone’s favorite subject. Sex.” She paused for breath. “Welcome to the show, Zac.”

  Silence.

  With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she recognized the shock in his eyes. Oh damn. Wasn’t this just her luck? The guy had stage fright. She waved her hand in front of his face hoping to distract him, but still nothing. “So tell us, Zac. What’s an Aussie like yourself doing on an American radio show discussing sex?”

  Still nothing. He sat there with a stunned look in his eyes. She gave an inner groan. What was his problem? He must know his stuff. He could certainly strut it.

  She forced a smile. “Sick of kangaroos telling you their sexual hang-ups?” He had a sexy mouth, why didn’t he use it?

  All at once, something seemed to click inside him. He flashed her a dazzling grin that sucked the air right out of her lungs. “No, sick of counseling them.”

  She managed a light laugh, but on a more deeper level she was still catching her breath. “Tell us something about yourself, Zac.”

  He leaned back in his chair, his polo shirt stretching across the solid wall of his chest, making him look both macho and handsome as he made himself more comfortable by the second. “Well, Cassie. I didn’t actually come to the States specifically to talk on your radio show about sex. I’m here on vacation, staying with a friend.”

  “A lady friend?” she asked, silly disappointment ripping through her.

  “No, a man.”

  Disappointment turned to disillusionment. “Really.”

  He chuckled. “I’m not gay, if that’s what you’re thinking. I like women too much. I find them fascinating.”

  Her pulse shimmied through her veins. “I’m sure there’ll be a lot of women out there relieved to hear that, Zac.”

  And she wasn’t one of them.

  No sirree.

  “And some disappointed men too,” she added lightly, then went for the jugular. “But if you like women so much, Zac, why haven’t you had sex in two years?”

  A blank look came down over his face, making her think he hadn’t expected the question. He recovered quickly, but she knew this man wasn’t often taken by surprise. A spark of excitement raced through her. He’d have to be crazy not to expect she wouldn’t use such a juicy tidbit for her interview. Besides, she kind of liked being one step ahead of him. She had the feeling not many people would achieve those dizzying heights.

  “I haven’t?” he suddenly drawled, a gleam in his eyes making her nipples harden under her knit top, urging her to bare her breasts and beg him to make love to her on the spot.

  She swallowed and tried to act unaffected. “I guess time flies when you’re not having any fun, eh Zac? My, that’s a sexy name.” It was the sort of name that slipped from a woman’s lips and onto a man’s hips. “Now stop being coy and tell me… and everyone else waiting breathlessly for your answer… why haven’t you had sex in two years?”

  A sardonic smile began to play at the corners of his mouth. “I guess I just haven’t felt like it.”

  Looking at that hot body, it was hard to imagine this guy abstaining from sex.

  Herself, yes.

  Him, no.

  “No kidding! Surely my Down Under sisters aren’t blind? I can’t believe none of them have tried to get you into bed.”

  His eyes had a knowing look. “Aussie women like sex just as much as the next woman.”

  “But you still held out? Why’s that?” She’d really like to know the answer. Bad break-up? Standards too high? Impotency? Her mind skidded to a halt. No, definitely not the latter.

  Seconds crept by.

  Then, “It’s not always good to do something just for the sake of it, Cassie. Or because it’s expected.”

  She decided she liked this guy… and the way he said her name. “That’s very astute of you.”

  “Yes, well, I learned that while out preaching to the downtrodden.”

  Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh, you do missionary work as well?”

  His lips twitched. “Only in nightclubs and discos. That sort of thing.”

  He was making fun of her. Delete liking him. She didn’t.

  “Zac, do me a favor and show me your palm.”

  Amused curiosity filled his eyes. “Why? Are you going to foresee when I’ll have sex again?”

  Only if he had it with her. The thought sent explosive currents racing through her that she quickly suppressed. “No, I’m looking for calluses.”

  His laughter was low and throaty, like an oral caress. “Sweetheart, any calluses I’ve got are from sheer hard work, nothing else.”

  She smirked. “Oh, I just bet they are.”

  “Why, Cassie,” he mocked, his eyes bright with enjoyment. “You sound like you don’t believe me.”

  She didn’t. “I don’t see how your er… work could give you calluses. After all, what can be so hard about discussing sex?”

  “Giving interviews like this one,” he said drolly.

  She had to smile. “You’re not enjoying yourself?”

  “Actually I am.”

  “I’m so glad.” She realized she was enjoying herself too. Too much. She had to get them back on track.

  She glanced down at the list of questions her intern had prepared. One of them jumped out at her. If the guy didn’t have sex then perhaps…

  “Zac, isn’t masturbation a type of self-sex?”

  He didn’t even blink this time. “Why yes, Cassie. I suppose it is.”

  “Then if you masturbate how can you say you’re celibate?”

  He tutted. “Firstly, I didn’t say I was celibate. You just did. Second, I didn’t say I masturbated.” He stroked his chin. “On the other hand, I didn’t say I didn’t.”

  Ignoring a warm feeling in her belly, she gave a short laugh and spoke into the microphone. “Maybe it’s not the women who are blind Down Under, ladies. Maybe it’s the men, if you know what I mean.”

  He made a tsking sound. “There’s nothing wrong with self-gratification, Cassie.” Then paused… “Or maybe you think there is?”

  Just then something seemed odd about this interview, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. “I don’t have an opinion on the matter,” she said firmly, determined to seize control of the show again. For all his laidback attitude, he was good at taking charge, and good at trying to lead her where he wanted her to go. It should be the other way around.

  “Okay, Zac. Let’s move on.” She read another question. “Do you think lack of sex is a problem for some people?”

  He thought on that for a moment. “Yes, it can be. Men and women get very bad-tempered if they don’t have sex. Take yourself for instance.”

  “Don’t bring me into this.”

  “Why not? I mean, if you’re snapping at everyone because of lack of sex --”

  “I’m not.”

  “Okay, then if you’re snapping because you’re having too much sex --”

  “I’m not.”

  He got a satisfied look about him. “So you’re a Goldilocks gal, eh? Not too much and not too little. You’re just right.”

  It was silly but she could feel her cheeks redden at the thought of being just right for him.

  Of her body fitting
just right over his.

  Or his fitting just right in hers.

  Ahem! “It’s not my sex life we should be discussing.”

  He gave her a slow once-over. “Why not? I find it fascinating. In a professional capacity, of course.”

  The tension in the air was palpable and far more than it should be. She swallowed hard and hoped the mike didn’t pick up the sound. “So, if you’re an advocate of celibacy, Zac, does that mean it’s a case of ignoring sex and it’ll go away?”

  One eyebrow lifted. “Like starving a cold? No, I don’t think so. Take sexual attraction for instance, Cassie,” he said, his voice dropping a notch, his accent growing stronger, more commanding. “You just can’t ignore it. It won’t let you. Wanting the other person begins to fill every pore of your being like it’s a living, breathing part of you. It starts to get inside your skin until all you can think about is making love to that person. It shakes you up and grabs you by the throat, then narrows down to a sexual hunger that must be appeased.”

  Cassie moistened her lips. Had someone turned on the heating? She felt hot in here.

  Like she was sitting in the middle of the desert…

  In a tent…

  Waiting for this man…

  Who was dressed as a sheik…

  “If you have an itch, Cassie,” he murmured, “then you should scratch it.”

  She tried to get the image of him as a sheik out of her mind, but that was like not eating the chocolate cake in the refrigerator.

  “What would it take to get your itch back?” she asked, unable to hide the huskiness in her voice.

  His eyes flared with challenge. “Have dinner with me and see.”

  Goosebumps exploded onto her skin. A second later she skidded to a mental stop. Reality check. If she didn’t stop fantasizing, the only tent she was going to be in shortly was an oxygen tent.

  She wrinkled her nose. “Sorry. I don’t think I have enough antihistamine to get through an evening with you.”

  He gave a wicked smile. “And here I was going to give you some private hints on how to improve your sex life.”