Operation Sex Kitten

by Tess Summers

  Rich, gorgeous, successful, and virile meant he was quite the catch. From what Ava had gathered, Travis was the elusive Great White Whale of the dating world. Everyone desired him but no one could reel him in. He was linked to everyone from heiresses, to models, to successful businesswomen.

  What on earth did he want with Ava? She hadn’t felt at all embarrassed or ashamed about what happened between them, but after learning who he was and realizing all the beautiful, sexy women he’d been with, she felt very inadequate. She wasn’t putting a lot of stock in actually seeing him tonight, or ever again, other than maybe at a social function—and definitely not as his date. While she was suddenly very self-conscious about her performance last night, she was still tingling from his. Yet remained with no regrets, whether she saw him again or not. He had opened her eyes to what it meant to have passion and desire in bed, and she was glad for that.

  The doorbell to the Ericson home rang around ten-thirty that morning. Grace and her friends had been up and cleaning since around nine-fifteen, and they were struggling. Being hungover was not conducive to bending over a lot or mopping up old beer. They had a long day in store, and Ava was not about to help. Serves them right. Besides, she had to meet with clients later today. Ava answered the door, bagel in hand. There stood a professional cleaning crew of three men and three women, clad in jumpsuit uniforms with patches that said their names. Their company’s van was parked in the drive.

  “Can I help you?” Ava asked Sandy, the woman who appeared to be in charge, as she was the only one of the six holding a clipboard.

  “Mr. Sterling sent us,” the lady replied, and handed Ava an envelope addressed to her.

  Ava pulled out a notecard with TS embossed in black at the top. The letters intertwined.

  Good grief, the man has his own brand.

  On the card in neat, handwritten block letters it read:

  Thought Grace could use a little help today.

  Hope you are still able to show the house this afternoon.

  Looking forward to this evening.

  -TS

  Seriously? First he plunges my parents’ toilet, then he has mind blowing sex with me, and now this? She had to give it to him; he was pretty impressive.

  Suddenly, she was glad she was wrong—apparently she was going to see him again.

  He included a card that had his personal cell number on it and call at your convenience on the back in the same handwriting as the card.

  She had to fight the urge to rush in and call him immediately. Play it cool, Ava. He didn’t seem the type to like clingy or needy women, although he certainly liked coming to their rescue. But she got the impression that definitely had to be on his terms and as he saw fit.

  * * * *

  Ava was able to hold out calling Travis until after she met with her clients. At around two p.m., she was finally back at her condo—free of distractions and noise—and dialed his number with trembling fingers, sitting down on her bed. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until he answered and when she began to speak, was embarrassed to be out of breath.

  “Hi, it’s Ava.” She held the receiver to her ear but lifted the speaking portion over her head and took a deep breath.

  “Hi there. I’m so glad to hear from you!” He genuinely sounded glad. “Are we still on for tonight?”

  “I hope so,” she replied in her best flirting tone. “What do you have in mind?”

  He chuckled. “I thought we’d start with dinner at Evangeline’s and go from there.”

  She started to ask him how on earth he thought he was going to get a reservation at Evangeline’s on such short notice, but then remembered who she was talking to. Of course he can get into Evangeline’s without a reservation. Either that or he has a standing one.

  “That sounds nice. What time were you thinking?” She was trying to sound sexy, yet nonchalant, but even to her own ears, she wasn’t buying it.

  “Seven o’clock too late? I’ve got some work to finish up before I can head out.”

  That means I have to wait five more hours!

  Instead, she replied, “Seven works great,” this time trying to use a husky, seductive voice. Except she thought her voice came out like an eighty-year-old woman who’d smoked all her life. She swore if he asked her if she was coming down with something, she was going to die from embarrassment.

  Luckily, all he asked was, “Do you want me to pick you up or do you want to meet at the restaurant?”

  Well yes, I want you to pick me up. But since he offered an alternative, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to choose. She didn’t understand the rules of whatever this was that was happening between them.

  She must have hesitated too long because he made the decision for her. “Should I pick you up at your parents’ or at your place?”

  “My place.” She’d swing by her parents’ house later to make sure Grace wasn’t up to any mischief tonight. “I’ll text you the address.”

  “See you then.” He wasn’t the type to chitchat.

  “Yes, see you then,” Ava replied, having given up on trying to conjure up the voice of a siren.

  She was about to hang up when she heard him say her name.

  “Ava?” He didn’t wait for her to answer him. “I am looking forward to seeing you.” He hung up the phone.

  That made her almost giddy. The man was charming. Dangerously charming. She knew she needed to keep things light between them and remember what she was doing this for: to get Brad back. Besides, Travis was the Great White Whale. Unobtainable. So she was just going to have fun and enjoy tonight, and hopefully a repeat performance of last night.

  What the heck was she going to wear?!

  * * * *

  Ava ransacked her closet looking for just the right thing to put on. Classy but sexy, revealing but not too slutty. She had nothing that fit that description. Time to call in reinforcements.

  She dialed the phone to Face Time her best friend, Anne.

  Annie answered with, “What’s up, Buttercup?” Her friend had an old sweatshirt on and her hair piled on her head in a very messy bun. It looked like she was eating ice cream; she had one of the long plastic red spoons in her mouth.

  Ava tried to look as desperate as she could so her friend would take pity on her. “I need help. I’m having dinner at Evangeline’s tonight and I have nothing to wear. Really. Nothing.”

  She wasn’t lying. Her closet consisted of conservative clothes for work, sensible shoes—it didn’t make sense to wear ridiculously high heels when taking people out to look at homes—jeans, yoga pants, sweatshirts, T-shirts, her lab coats from when she worked at the university, and gowns she had worn to formals in college.

  “Evangeline’s, huh? Ooh la la. Who’s the lucky guy?”

  “Just a client.”

  “Meet me at the mall in twenty!” Annie giggled and sat up on her knees. “We’re going to find something hawt for you to wear on your Saturday night date with your client!” She gestured air quotations when she said client, and with that, signed off.

  Ava knew she hadn’t fooled her friend, but she wasn’t ready to divulge she was going to dinner with Travis Sterling. Not yet. Besides, that would lead to more questions, which would lead to her breaking down and spilling her guts about last night. Her friend would freak out if she knew she had slept with him after just meeting him. Ava should be freaking out. Last night had been completely out of character for her.

  Isn’t that the point of OSK? To become a sex goddess and win Brad back?

  Even in college, she had the reputation of being the square in her sorority. Guys dated her, thinking they would be the one she would sleep with. When it didn’t happen after a few dates, they moved on. The longest boyfriend she’d had before Brad lasted seven dates. She met Brad at the end of the third year in her doctoral program. She was twenty-six years-old and still a virgin. He was a typical California boy—tan, bleached blond hair, and athle
tic with boyish good looks and a happy-go-lucky attitude. He was a law student at her university and she had seen him around campus, while he noticed Ava at a graduation party for one of their mutual friends and immediately began pursuing her.

  Her naïveté and inexperience was something Brad used to his advantage. He wined and dined her, pulling out all the stops with flowers, cards, thinking of you texts and calls, and he didn’t push her to be intimate. He had been a perfect gentleman, up until almost the end of their relationship. He thought their pairing was ideal. He was a future lawyer from a respectable family, she was educated and the daughter of a judge and a socialite—a real socialite, not the trampy definition that has become associated with the term.

  Ava thought his persistence was charming and the fact he stuck around after their seventh date was telling. Eventually she found herself in love with him and one night, when he tried to escalate their make-out session on the couch, she surprised him by not pushing him away like she normally did. His perseverance had paid off.

  He started hinting about marriage after he graduated from law school and was studying for the bar. She had graduated from school and foregone going into the corporate world, where the money was—much to her father’s chagrin—instead jumping into academia and started earning a modest living so she could help support her future husband during the lean years of being a new lawyer. Brad had taken the bar a second time and was waiting on the results when he suggested they move in together. It wasn’t exactly the marriage proposal she was hoping for, but she knew that was just around the corner. She told herself it was the natural progression of things in this day and age.

  On a sunny Saturday afternoon, Ava was unloading boxes at their new apartment when Brad arrived with a group of friends on their way to a baseball game. He had told her the day before when they signed their lease he needed to blow off steam with his friends, something he had been doing a lot lately. Ava chalked it up to being nervous about the bar results; once he learned he’d passed, he’d settle back down. She was standing at her open trunk when the carload of people pulled up next to her—Brad’s roommates and some girls she knew, some she didn’t. She waved to the group as Brad got out of the car, thinking it strange his friends didn’t wave back and yell something obnoxious about her not wanting to go with them, like they always did. Instead, they looked away, almost seeming embarrassed. Brad took the box she had retrieved from the back of her little sedan and started walking toward the new apartment. Following behind with a lamp and admiring his tan, athletic legs as he walked quickly up the steps, she didn’t understand why he was there, but as she looked at the back of his bleached blond head, she smiled at the thought he wanted to stop and see her on his way to the stadium. She soon discovered why he was really there when he stood in their practically empty kitchen and announced, quite matter-of-factly, he wasn’t going to be moving in after all—he had received the results from the bar exam, and he had passed. Learning he was now officially able to practice law created some opportunities he didn’t know were available, and he no longer wanted to be tied down. As he put it, he had “a lot of living to do before getting married.” She didn’t remember much after that, just him kissing the top of her head and walking out the door.

  Almost in a trance, she showed up at her parents’ door, finally breaking down when she was trying to explain to her mother what had just happened. Her mom let her stay curled up in her childhood bed for three days before opening her blinds one morning and declaring it was time her daughter got on with her life. Ava sighed and agreed; she didn’t have any tears left to cry anyway. First thing they did was finish packing her old apartment up. Her lease was expiring and the management company had already rented her apartment so she needed to be out. Unfortunately, when she walked into her new apartment, tears instantly started to stream down her face. She still didn’t understand why Brad had chosen to end their relationship, although the more Ava thought about it, the more she suspected it might have had something to do with the short-haired brunette in the red, white, and blue sequined bikini top that was sitting in the back seat next to him when he showed up at the apartment. She had never seen her before that day.

  Mrs. Ericson stopped her daughter from putting down the box she was carrying. “There’s no way you can live here,” her mother told her gently. Before Ava could protest—she had signed a lease after all—her mom continued, “Don’t worry about the lease. You’ll be able to get out of it. You can stay with us until you get your bearings. We’ll put your things in storage.” Her mother, although gentle and beautiful, was not one to take no for an answer.

  They boxed what little had been unpacked at her new apartment before going to the rental office to argue with the manager about what he was going to charge her for breaking her new lease. He said he was only charging her for her half, but it was an exorbitant half. Her mom tried appealing to the man’s sense of decency. “She hasn’t even moved in! You won’t even need to clean it!” Followed by, “You need to be charging Brad Miller for the entire amount, he’s the one who has caused this. This girl is broken hearted! Look at her!” At first, Ava was a little offended at the insinuation she looked pathetic, but then she had to admit, she’d looked better. When that didn’t work, Mrs. Ericson gave him the card of her well-known real estate lawyer and informed him all future correspondence would be done through her attorney. With that, she turned, head held high, and summoned her daughter. “We’re leaving.” Two weeks later, when Ava opened her mail and found a check for her full deposit, she thought, “He is one amazing attorney.” She secretly hoped the apartment manager still went after Brad for his share.

  * * * *

  It took all of twenty seconds after seeing her friend in person for Ava to confess she had slept with someone new.

  Anne squealed and wanted every horny detail.

  “All I will tell you is he’s older and…”

  “Ew, how much older?” her friend interrupted.

  “Not old like that. Gross. Late thirties, maybe forty.”

  “Okay, I can work with that.” Anne gestured for Ava to continue.

  Ava shot her a look and continued. “All I can say is in addition to being older, he’s freaking gorgeous, makes a lot of money, and…”

  “Is he big?” her friend interrupted again.

  Ava hadn’t really thought about that. She liked how his dick looked and how it felt and what he did with it but if she had to assess size…

  “I think the length is average and the girth above average.”

  Anne nodded. “Nice.”

  “But you have to remember, I haven’t had a lot to compare it to.”

  “You’d know if it was too small,” her friend stated like she was an authority on the subject. “Or too big.”

  “Ouch.” Both girls winced at the thought of being with someone whose penis was too big.

  “Anyway, you were saying?”

  “He’s got a really nice body.”

  Anne narrowed her eyes and asked suspiciously, “What’s wrong with him? Nobody is that perfect.”

  “Nothing is wrong with him. At least not that I know of.” Ava thought about it and added, “Well, he can be a bit of a prick, I suppose.” She paused. “And I’ve heard he takes no prisoners at work.” She paused again. “Like, you don’t want to cross him kinda thing.”

  “Oh, so he’s a bully.”

  Ava shook her head. “No. At least I don’t see that.” She gave it a little thought. No, she wouldn’t classify him as a bully.

  She continued, “Besides, it’s not like I’m interested in him. He is simply part of my plan to get Brad back.”

  Anne glared at her. “Ugh. Okay, number one. Why would you want Brad back? Number two, how is sleeping with someone else going to get him back? Number three, why aren’t you interested in the mystery man?”

  “It’s part of my Operation Sex Kitten, or OSK for short. I’m going to get some sexual experience, then be seen with th
is other man out in public so Brad knows I’m dating him and gets jealous. When he tries to get me back, I’ll play hard to get before giving in and then—bam! Knock his socks off in bed with my new skills! There’s no way he wouldn’t want to be with me after that!”

  Anne shook her head, dumbfounded. “You truly are just an inexperienced little school girl at heart, aren’t you?” Getting serious, she continued, “Again, even if this hair-brained ‘operation’ worked, why would you even want him back, Ava, after the way he treated you?”

  “I don’t know. I guess because he was my first love? And maybe to prove there’s nothing wrong with me. I am desirable.”

  “Okay, let me get this straight. You’re boning this gorgeous, rich guy who just happens to be a jerk with a nice body but yet, you don’t think you’re desirable? Sister, what more do you want?”

  Ava shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  “Yeah, well I think you’re being greedy. And stupid. But what do I know? I haven’t been laid in five months.”

  Yes, she could always count on Anne to be straight with her, but she was wrong this time. Keep your eye on the prize.

  Ava wouldn’t let Anne come home with her to help her get ready. She knew her friend was only trying to catch a glimpse of her mystery man and had no intention of actually helping her prepare for her date. It didn’t take much to convince her to go home once Ava lied and told her she was meeting him at the restaurant.

  “See ya later, gorgeous! I want the deets tomorrow!” her friend yelled as she walked to her car in the mall parking lot.

  “I don’t kiss and tell!” Ava called back as she got into her car.

  “Then I’ll beat it out of you!”

  Earlier in the mall, they had found not one, but two perfect dresses. Ava bought them both. She had purchased her attire for the evening, complete with four-inch heels—CFM shoes she called them, short for Come Fuck Me (her date was almost a foot taller than she was, it was a justified buy!)—and sat in the waiting area of the dressing rooms while Anne tried on a couple of outfits herself. Ava passed the time while her girlfriend changed clothes by picking up the city’s daily paper and was happy to find it was that day’s issue. They still actually print these? At the moment, she was glad they did and started flipping through the pages looking for the gossip section on page six. It was fun to see if there was anyone she knew now that she was a grownup. She used to read the Out and About section religiously in college, and they had usually included a photo or two. She didn’t read it much anymore, but recalled the first time she actually knew someone featured. It was a girl she went to high school with, Sharon Edison. Sharon had hosted an event the ambassador of Finland attended. There hadn’t been a picture, but the write-up sounded like it had been a fun evening. She’d also seen Travis’ name on occasion; that’s how she knew he’d been linked to models, socialites, and powerful women. There was one reporter in particular, Tom Jensen, who seemed to write about the various conquests of Travis Sterling. In his paragraphs, the writer would discuss where the couple had been spotted and if they appeared romantic. If there were even the slightest bit of touching, it would send Jensen into a speculation frenzy, often asking if this one was, in fact, the future Mrs. Sterling. So far, the reporter was about 0 for 50.