The resignation in her tone made Natasha want to cry. Even after the MS diagnosis, her aunt had sounded optimistic. She’d been willing to fight to keep her dream, her company and her shop alive. That fight, that spunk, was gone.
“Is there anything else I can do?” Natasha wondered aloud. She felt so helpless.
“Well...”
“Yes? What do you need?” Anything, she almost promised. But before she could say anything, her aunt continued enthusiastically.
“Well, I had an idea the other day. It’s crazy, but it’d be the perfect solution.”
Perfect enough to keep her from having to see Rufus Randall in a strip club, waving dollar bills? Natasha was so ready.
“I was thinking about you. You’re wonderful at every aspect of the business. The design side, the sales side, even the business side.”
Natasha got a hard knot in her belly.
“You have vision,” her aunt continued. “So much so that I wonder if I was drawn to open the boutique simply to pave the way for you.”
“No,” Natasha protested a little too loudly. “This is your dream. I’m just helping you.”
“But if you were a partner, you could take care of the store, keep it going. You could handle these things for me,” Sharon said persuasively.
She could also be disowned and forever haunted by the ugliness of her parent’s reactions. Judged by her peers and fired from the engineering firm. Terror washed over her at the idea, even as a small part of her was screaming ‘Yes!’.
“Aunt Sharon...”
“I know, I know, it’s a crazy talk. Forget I asked. You just get that Perfect Passion account and everything will be fine.
Natasha wanted to cry. She wanted to apologize, to protest her own wimpiness.
But she couldn’t.
Instead she took a deep breath and put on her brightest voice.
“You just relax and focus on getting healthy. I’m sure everything will be fine.” And whatever wasn’t, she’d find a way to make it that way. She had no clue how, but she had to make sure her aunt’s business thrived. “It’s all going to work out. You just have to think positive.”
Natasha heard a deep sigh on the other end of the phone line. “Okay, honey. You’re right. I shouldn’t be so pessimistic. You’ll nail that Perfect Passion line and everything will be just fine.”
Natasha said her goodbyes and hung up the phone. Then she stared out the window, wondering how in the hell she was going snag the account her aunt was counting on so badly.
* * *
“So,” Ruf said the next evening as he rubbed his manicured hands together. “Anyone want to take a guess at where we’re going for tonight’s entertainment?”
Natasha looked at Ruf. Tonight, he wore an amethyst satin lapelled evening jacket which looked almost as silly as his Rhett Butler mustache. All evening, he’d been making calf-eyes at Audra. Natasha couldn’t hold back her sigh. She loved her aunt. She really, really did. And if hitting strip clubs and titty bars was what it took secure the other woman’s future, then fine. But, man, did she wish she were calling the shots here. If she was, she’d get out now and run.
“Hoover Dam?” she offered hopefully in response to Ruf’s question.
“Lake Mead?” Drew speculated in a monotone. Natasha knew he was just as frustrated with this little outing as she was. After all, he’d been doing his damnedest to get his sister to meet with some of the very accounts Natasha herself was lusting after. But he didn’t seem to have much influence over his business partner.
“Maybe a strip club,” Audra guessed, sounding as animated as Natasha heard yet. “I’ve been wanting to check one out, but some people have been total bores.”
“Now that would be a treat, wouldn’t it, L’il Darlin’?” Ruf said with a dirty little laugh. “And I’ve heard of a few clubs around here where the patrons can join in.”
Natasha cringed.
“Don’t tell me you have issues with nude bodies, Sweet Thing. You design that lingerie to cover it up, is that it?” Ruf asked. Then he turned to Audra, who sat on the seat next to him and patted her blood-red fishnet covered knee.
“If I had an issue with nude bodies, I’d hardly be in Vegas, now would I? After all, it seems that billboards like that are the norm here, hmm?” Natasha gestured out Ruf’s window so he had to let go of Audra’s knee to twist and see what she was referring to. A nude woman, covered only by a strategically placed logo, lounged on a bearskin rug, inviting people to experience a new line of skincare product.
“Besides,” Natasha continued when Ruf turned back to find Audra had shifted her knees toward the door, out of his reach, “Lingerie, if designed right, is made to complement the nude body, not hide it.”
“Interesting concept,” Audra said in that husky lisp of hers. The woman rarely spoke, so when she did, Natasha was always taken aback. Not by how sexy she sounded, but by the inklings of intelligence in her words. Natasha would think herself a snob, except that Audra really didn’t come across as being anywhere near intellectual. “What about people who argue that lingerie is just another layer of clothing?”
“I suppose it could be considered that,” Natasha agreed. Then, when Drew’s hand surreptitiously slid up the back of her jacket to trace a tiny design over the bare skin of her back, she swallowed and forced herself to focus on the conversation. “But in that case, I think it should be labeled underwear and not lingerie.”
“Semantics,” Audra said in a dismissive tone. “Do labels really make people feel safer?”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Not bad, just wussy. You know, like slapping a description on something, or someone, forces them into that tidy little box. Into something everyone can comprehend. And dismiss.” Audra’s sneer made it clear what she thought of labels.
“But even you’ve bought into it,” Natasha couldn’t resist pointing out. “You’re the epitome of a bad girl. Isn’t that a label?”
“No.” Audra denied with a shake of her head. “That’s your label for me. As long as I don’t own that label in my own mind, I won’t stagnate.”
“People don’t stop growing just because they’ve found their own definition of themselves,” Natasha protested.
“Really? What about the woman who finds a style, oh, let’s say something demure and ladylike. She picks her fashions to fit that style. Her mellow hairstyle, tame accessories. It all ties in together, right?”
Even though she knew there was a trap in there somewhere, Natasha slowly nodded.
“So that demure, ladylike style starts out as a fashion choice, but pretty soon it’s a car choice. You know, ‘cause it’s hard to ride a Hog in Chanel. Then it ends up being a job choice, a friend choice, all that. It leaks into everything. Before long, that label defines this chick so much, she hasn’t got a clue how to step outside it.”
Natasha’s back went up.
“Isn’t that a little deep for a discussion about lingerie?”
“Maybe. But you’re the one who started talking labels.” Audra shrugged and inspected her red fingernails before giving Natasha a long, inscrutable look. “Actually I did a paper on it in my psych class once. ‘Man’s helpless suppression of himself through the chains of descriptions’.”
And Natasha had spent her entire life struggling to fit the description put on her by her parents. Heck, the label she’d put on herself.
But Audra? The woman talked trash with the best of them, dressed like a stripper and appeared to be fascinated by psychology. The girl refused to be categorized. And that, Natasha supposed, was the real difference in bad and wanna–be bad. The real bad just didn’t care.
Ruf gave a hearty laugh, apparently oblivious to the undercurrents and rubbed his hands together. “Ladies, I have to tell ya, you are making my week. You have a way of taking any ole subject and turning it on its ear with your opposing opinions. I like that.”
Natasha didn’t. She felt like she was on an improvisati
onal debate team, never quite sure when she’d be called on to take a stand on something she knew little about. And what the hell did any of this have to do with getting a manufacturing and distribution contract that would solidify Sensual Supports future and settle her aunt’s fears?
Not a damned thing. Which meant she should quit playing this game and stand up to Ruf, tell him if he wanted to discuss the contract with her, he knew where her booth was, but in the meantime, she had other things to do. Things that didn’t involve strip joints. This was just a waste of time.
She glanced at Drew. Well, not entirely a waste. Reconnecting with him had been a dream. The hot, sweaty moan-filled type dream. And she wasn’t ready to give that up yet.
But she didn’t need to keep playing Ruf’s games to continue her fling with Drew. If it wasn’t for her obligation to her aunt, she’d spend the rest of the week having incredible sex in his bed.
“So are we hitting a strip club or what?” Audra prodded. She grinned at Natasha’s grimace and asked, “What’s the matter? You don’t like strip joints? Do they make you uncomfortable?”
“I have no issue with sexuality, Audra,” Natasha said in a clipped tone. “But, contrary to what you apparently think, subtle sensuality can be much sexier than having some large breasted woman rubbing herself in your face. Compare the art of the belly dancing, the sensuality and promise in the moves, to watching some woman grind herself against a pole.”
“Sure. Sometimes. But other times, it’s that willingness to put yourself and your sexuality out there that is a lot more powerful. A hint of lace is just that, a hint. Like a tease. But a slinky dress, something that shows the goods, I think that’s sexy.”
Natasha fingered the bit of lace peeking out from beneath the hem of her skirt, then eyed the younger woman’s mesh and leather dress.
“Lingerie is more than a flashing neon light screaming easy pickings,” Natasha said calmly. “To truly entice, sexuality has to come from within. Lingerie gives a woman that soul deep belief that she’s beautiful, that she’s alluring. She doesn’t have to prove it. She simply needs to embrace it and she’ll attract others.”
Audra leaned forward, her face intent, her elbows on her knees. For the first time since she’d met the younger woman, Natasha saw her resemblance to Drew. It was that intensity in her gaze, that fervent furrow of her brow.
“Lingerie is an important tool,” Audra said. “One of many a woman should learn to use if she wants to get ahead in the game. And if she uses it right, she’ll not only attract others, but she’ll be in control when she does.”
“That isn’t a tool,” Natasha corrected. “That’s a weapon.”
“Weapon?” Ruf interjected with a nervous laugh, obviously picking up on the undercurrents. “You say that like there is a battle.”
“Well, yeah.” Audra gave him a ‘duh’ look. “It is a battle.”
“Between men and women?” Ruf asked, obviously confused.
“No,” Natasha corrected quietly. “Between women themselves.”
Audra shot her a considering look, apparently surprised at the insight.
“Oh, hoh, cat fights and all that, huh?” Ruf made an X with his index fingers.
“Hardly,” Audra said with a roll of her eyes.
“I don’t think Ruf realizes that a woman is always the harshest judge of herself—and of other women,” Natasha told Audra. She gave the guy a patient look and explained, “While men might comfort their egos by thinking a woman dressed to get their attention, the reality is women dress to impress other women. After all, few heterosexual men outside the design industry can tell the difference between Manolo’s and Massimo’s, but women stress their arches and their credit limit to have the finest.”
“What’s that, some kind of make up?” Drew asked.
Audra snickered, Natasha patted his knee and even Ruf shook his head pityingly. Before she could explain the beauty of expensive shoes, Ruf glanced out the door and clapped his hands together.
“Well, as fascinating as this insight into women’s inner workings might be, we’ve arrived.”
Natasha sucked in a breath and pulled back her shoulders. She might have no interest in checking out a strip joint, but damned if she’d be a wimp about it. Dammit, she’d prove she wasn’t repressed.
She took Drew’s hand and slid from the car. Then stopped in confusion. This didn’t look like a strip club. It looked like... well like a normal club. No flashing neon breasts, no burly tattooed guys at the door. A group of women in business suits gathered by the entrance, and the parking lot was filled with high-end cars with local plates.
“Ruf?” she asked.
He gave a hearty chuckle as he assisted Audra from the car. “Well, to be honest, Sweet Thing, I never said I was taking ya’ll to a strip joint. This is a spa. There are some exotic dancers, just to entertain the customers while they’re waiting. But this place is all about massage, facials, mud baths and things like that. Someone mentioned it in passing at the convention today and it sounded interesting. I understand there is any variety of things to do. And it’s my treat, so go for the works and have a good time.”
* * *
Any variety was right. Drew looked over the cleverly presented menu of services and entertainment with a grimace. This was not his kind of gig. Give him a sporting event, the casinos, even one of the shows on the strip and he’d be fine. This over-the-top spa was ridiculous.
He breathed in the female scent of lotions and oils, and wished like hell he were somewhere else. With Tasha, preferably. He was sure he’d be having a much better time right now.
“Oh, hey, they do couples gigs here,” Audra said, glancing at the brochure she’d picked up.
Drew gave her a sharp look, then scanned the menu again and ground his teeth. Was his sister trying to piss him off? He’d tried talking with her, hoping to get her to chill on the sex-kitten act, but she’d blown him off with a smart comment and a roll of her eyes. It would serve her right if he left her to deal with Ruf on her own. Except, he knew Ruf Randall was a walk in the park for his precocious sister.
The only real benefit to all this nonsense was getting to spend time with Natasha.
“And have you all selected your entertainment for the evening?” a heavily made up woman in a white smock asked.
“I want the body facial,” Audra told her. Ruf leaned closer to whisper something to her, but Audra just smirked and refused with a little shake of her head. “And maybe the light therapy facial? I’m not sure yet, can I add more later?”
“Of course,” the attendant murmured.
“I think I’m going to go for the full spa treatment,” Ruf said. “Since the lovely lady here has chosen to go solo, I want to add the a la carte option number five.”
Drew watched the ladies scan their menus and Natasha’s eyes shot to Audra’s face, as if she were worried Drew’s sister was hurt that her supposed date for the evening was getting his full spa treatment given by two naked women. Drew knew if Audra had cared in the slightest, she’d have made a stink. But she just snickered and tossed her menu on the counter.
“And you two?” the attendant asked.
Natasha bit her lip, looking as if she couldn’t decide between a seven layer chocolate cake and a hot fudge sundae. “Can you give me a few more minutes?” she asked. “Maybe get Audra and Ruf started. And Drew, if he’s ready?”
Drew shook his head. Oh, he knew what he wanted, but it’d be a hell of a lot easier to talk Tasha into it if they didn’t have an audience.
“What are you interested in doing,” he asked Natasha as a too-tall-and-tanned woman led the others off to their treatments.
“I can’t decide,” she admitted. Drew eyed the faint pink washing over her sharp cheekbones and grinned. Maybe she’d be easier to convince than he’d thought. Anticipation tightened in his gut at the possibility.
“What about this one,” he asked as he stepped up behind her, and wrapping one arm around her to point to a s
election. She subtly leaned back into him and with half-closed eyes, Drew breathed in the rich scent of her silky hair. With his other hand, he lifted a few of the loose strands up to his nose and inhaled before holding her hair aside so he could brush an open mouthed kiss over the delicious length of her bare neck.
He felt her breath catch and smiled.
“What do you say,” he whispered in her ear, nibbling softly at the delicate lobe. “Want to go for the Couples Ecstasy Extravaganza with me?”
“I’d be smarter to get the body facial, like Audra did,” she said softly. Drew slipped his hands down to her hips and pressed her back against his growing erection. Natasha sighed. “But it’d be a lot more wild to go for the Extravaganza, wouldn’t it?”
There was something under her words, some deeper meaning that Drew didn’t get. He wasn’t going to waste time asking though. Instead he turned her to face him and brushed a soft kiss over her lips. “Wild. Exciting. Pure pleasure,” he promised.
They heard the attendant returning and Natasha pulled away. Drew had no idea what choice she’d made. With other women, he’d take the obvious arousal on her face as a guarantee he’d be enjoying the promise of the Extravaganza, but he knew Tasha didn’t put her wants first. At least not the ones he understood.
“And have you decided?” the tanned woman asked with a bat of her baby blue eyelids.
Natasha shot him a look and took a deep breath. Then she handed the menu to the woman and ordered, “We’ll have the Couples Ecstasy Extravaganza with option number two, please.”
Awesome! Drew hadn’t even let himself dream she’d go for an option. His erection, already hard from pressing against Natasha, stiffened even more at the images that flashed through his mind.
He was a lucky man. And about to get even luckier.
Chapter Seven
This was it. A surefire end to her curse. Natasha had thought sleeping with Drew the previous night was enough, but she it couldn’t be. Sex, regular sex, even as great as it was, wasn’t enough. For her to get over him, to let go and free her sexual wild child once and for all, she had to do more.
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