For tonight, anyway, Josie was going to assume that foreplay—really intense foreplay—was still okay.
“Josephine, would you please stop walking so fast?”
“Sorry.” She slowed to match her mother’s pace, annoyed with herself for being in such a hurry to see Trent.
“I’m surprised you can move so fast in those shoes. What are you doing dressed for a night on the town, anyway, when you’re just entertaining your mother?”
Darn it, she shouldn’t have been so obvious. “I need to make a trip to the cleaner’s. This is about the only clean dress I have left.”
“Well, you look fabulous in it. You should choose more outfits that accent your figure like that.”
Leave it to her mother to compliment her on wearing the sort of dress that would keep most parents up late worrying. Josie used to wish she had a normal mother who baked cookies and drove her to Girl Scout meetings, but now she more or less accepted that Rafaela wasn’t ever going to be normal.
“I had a meeting with Erika the other day regarding her future at the center, and I’ve decided that she should have more responsibility than she currently does.”
“Erika’s a smart girl,” Rafaela said. “I’ve been trying to think of better ways to use her recently.”
“She’s going to be our sex—er, sensuality—coach. We need to start advertising it.”
“A sensuality coach! That’s a fabulous idea.”
“Erika’s, not mine.”
“I’m sure you can handle the advertising,” Rafaela said, clearly finished with the subject.
Josie clenched her teeth to avoid making any comment. She had given up trying to get her mother more involved in running the center again, but she still found her lack of interest frustrating.
Even more frustrating was her lack of explanation for any of her recent odd behavior. She hadn’t returned any money to the business account, hadn’t shown the slightest worry about the shaky finances at the center, and now suddenly she claimed to be burnt out on a job she’d adored up until a few months ago?
Josie was beginning to suspect more and more that her mother had an ulterior motive. Rafaela was manipulating her somehow, but her reasons weren’t clear. And Josie was so overwhelmed with the day-to-day details of running the center that she didn’t have the mental or physical energy to figure out what was really going on with her mother.
She just had to hope that, eventually, everything would work out.
They found Trattoria Venezia and Josie tried to look nonchalant as they entered the small restaurant and immediately spotted Trent and his father sitting at one of the tables closest to the door.
Rafaela smiled and waved, and Josie let out a pent-up breath, relieved that her mother didn’t seem to suspect any foul play at Trent’s presence.
“Trent, dear, how nice to see you!”
“Hi, Rafaela. Back from Prague so soon?”
“Yes, I just couldn’t stay away from San Francisco a moment longer.”
She turned her attention to Trent’s father, a faint look of recognition in her expression. “Tony O’Reilly?”
“Rafaela Marcus, I haven’t seen you since—jeez, how long has it been?”
Her mother frowned. “Not since you gave up the sporting goods business, right?”
“Must be.” Trent’s father looked stunned and a little confused that his blind date had turned out to be not so blind, after all.
“We haven’t ordered yet. Why don’t you two join us?” Trent said, already standing and offering a chair to Josie’s mother.
“Uh, that’s okay with me. Mom?”
“If you’re sure you don’t mind.”
Trent’s father looked even more confused now, and he was eyeing Trent with mild curiosity. “We’d be happy to have you,” he finally said, catching on to the plan that Trent must not have informed him about.
One good look at Trent sitting there in a crisp white shirt and khaki pants, and all those fantasies Josie’d been indulging in throughout the day came flooding back. Somehow, she had to get him out of here. Fast. Even if, according to Erika, she couldn’t make love to Trent until he admitted his feelings, she could at least engage in a little extended foreplay.
All in the name of education, of course.
THEY MADE SMALL TALK while looking over the menus, and Josie calculated exactly how long she needed to wait before she and Trent could slip away to the rest room. Or the car. Or the nearest hotel room.
After the waiter took their order, Rafaela smiled and asked Trent a few questions about his store. She was watching Trent and Josie closely, too closely. Josie feared her mother suspected this was a setup, after all.
And if so, she’d never hear the end of it.
But then Rafaela surprised her with, “Why don’t you two give us old folks some time alone to get reacquainted? We can have the waiter box up your dinners for carry-out.”
Trent and Josie exchanged a look. Trent’s father, too, seemed a little taken aback by the suggestion.
“Uh,” Josie said, stunned. “That’s fine with me. Trent?”
He looked to Rafaela. “You sure you want to be stuck having dinner alone with this old coot?”
Her mother smiled and patted Tony’s hand. “It’s been a long time. We have lots to catch up on.”
“I’ve gotta warn you, get him started talking about his boat and he’ll keep you here until morning.”
Rafaela signaled the waiter. When he arrived, she explained the change of plans.
They sat awkwardly sipping their drinks while Josie wondered about the smug look on her mother’s face. And then, thankfully, their dinners came and Trent and Josie excused themselves.
Outside the restaurant they stopped and looked at one another in disbelief.
“What was that all about?” Trent asked.
“My mother’s up to something.”
“Do you think she suspects anything about us?”
“It’s possible. Even if she doesn’t, this might be her way of getting us together.” Josie felt herself blushing to admit, “She’s always insisted we’d make a perfect couple.”
Josie suddenly had the feeling that her mother’s odd behavior in recent months was connected to some kind of elaborate matchmaking plot. Would she really go so far just to get Josie and Trent together?
Trent frowned. “I wonder if she and my dad have some kind of history?”
“No way! My mother has never, ever shown an interest in a guy her own age. At least not since I’ve been old enough to tell.”
Josie ran through the possibility again in her head. The center had been located right next door to Anthony O’Reilly’s business, but so what? Back then he hadn’t owned the building where the center was located— Trent had bought it after taking over the store—so their contact with each other probably had been limited to passing on the sidewalk, exchanging hellos, maybe chatting about neighborhood business. But being attracted?
The possibility was just too weird to consider.
Besides, Trent’s father had been married back then. And Rafaela, many faults as she had, abided by a strict policy of never messing with married men.
Trent looked relieved by Josie’s assurance.
“So where should we go?” he asked, holding up their bag of dinner. “Your place or mine?”
Josie had left her car keys for her mother to take herself and Anthony home. “Your apartment is closer.”
“Which place would be more conducive to tonight’s lesson?”
“Oh, that.” With Trent so near, and the possibilities so endless all of a sudden, Josie was having a hard time remembering what tonight’s lesson was even supposed to have been. “I left the lesson plan at home.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Do you really need a lesson plan?”
“I like to be prepared.”
“Can’t you go by memory?”
“My memory tends to be, uh, a little shaky when you’re around.”
He slipped
one arm around her waist and pulled her close. She could feel his breath on her face now, and her entire body warmed instantly.
“Oh, yeah? Why is that?” he asked.
Josie tried to think of what Erika would advise her to say. Honesty was the best policy, right?
“Because you turn me on.”
10
EVER SINCE Trent had gotten a look at Josie in that formfitting little black dress and those strappy heels, he’d felt all his reservations about her vanish.
She sat on his lap, her pelvis firmly pressed against his erection, and the look in her eyes told him she meant to have him, one way or another. Something about Josie had changed, something fundamental. This couldn’t be the flirty tease he’d grown up lusting after. She never would have let his hand go as far up her dress as it just had moments ago, to confirm she wore not a scrap of underwear.
Damn if he didn’t want her more than he’d wanted a woman in years. Why did his lust always have to multiply by ten when Josie Marcus was involved?
She gave him a measured look. “Why don’t you tell me what you’d like to learn tonight?”
Hmm. Decisions, decisions.
Trent mulled over the options, then suggested, “How about a lesson in foreplay? I’ve been giving that subject a lot of thought lately, and I even have a sort of extra credit project on it.”
“You did a project for me?”
“You do accept extra credit, don’t you?” he asked, teasing.
Josie shrugged, the corners of her mouth down-turned in a suspicious little frown. “I’ve never thought about it, but I guess I can’t say no. My curiosity is certainly piqued.”
She bit her delicate pink lip, and the gesture was wildly erotic. He imagined those lips, swollen from teasing, tempting, tasting, kissing parts of him he’d bet Josie would never agree to kiss.
Well, the old Josie. This new Josie that had just hopped on his lap might have learned a thing or two in the past couple of years, may have even learned something from that ridiculous sex school.
Trent reached for the magazine on the end table and opened up the erotica short story collection. He flipped to the story he’d read at least twice since swiping the magazine from Josie’s waiting area.
“Hey, where did you get that?”
“I found it at the center. I didn’t think you’d mind if I borrowed it.”
“I didn’t realize you enjoyed women’s erotica.”
“It’s part of my research into the female psyche.”
“I bet.”
“Oh, I almost forgot the most important part.” He lifted her off his lap and stood, then went to the kitchen for matches and candles.
He’d bought just about every candle he’d seen at the store earlier. As he arranged them on the coffee table, Josie stared, wide-eyed.
“Okay, I’m impressed. You’re the first guy I’ve ever met who had one scented candle in his apartment, let alone fifty of them.”
“What can I say—I’m a Renaissance man.”
She snuggled herself into the corner of the couch and watched as he lit each candle.
Trent turned off the overhead light to maximize the mood created by the blaze of candles. Then he settled in at the opposite end of the sofa from Josie and pulled her bare feet onto his lap.
“Tonight,” Trent said, “I’ll be doing an erotic reading.”
She looked at him, then the magazine, then him again, her eyes wide. “Wow.”
“Why so shocked?” He could hardly resist cracking a grin. Her reaction was even better than he’d imagined.
“You’ve been listening, haven’t you?”
He shrugged. “To be honest, I got the idea from one of your students that day I dropped in on the elderly women’s sex class.”
“You have been listening.”
Trent found the spot where he wanted to begin reading.
“‘Sabine stretched out long upon the grass, her every sense on alert at the nearness of the stranger. Just as he had every afternoon for the past two weeks, he watched her. Watched as she disrobed at the edge of the lake, watched as she dipped her naked body into the cool green water, and watched still as she lay in the grass letting the sun dry her damp skin.’
“‘Sabine grew more and more curious about him each day, so that when he finally emerged from behind the bushes, she felt as if she already knew him. He was younger than she’d imagined, perhaps even younger than herself. His body was strong, graceful and unblemished by age—a body made for pleasuring a woman.’”
Trent paused to wet his lips. “Ready for more?”
Josie wiggled her toes. “Mmm-hmm.”
If he had to guess, he’d say she was loving every minute of it. Her attention was focused on him as if he were about to reveal a long-kept secret.
“‘She couldn’t take another moment of his watching. The distance between them had become a field of electric current…’” Trent continued to read, glancing up occasionally to see Josie getting more hot and bothered as the story went on. He was having a similar reaction, and it surprised him that even he found the candles to be a turn-on.
When he finished the story Josie smiled. “A-plus on the extra-credit project. That’s exactly the kind of foreplay women love.”
“Oh, yeah?” Trent smiled and began to massage Josie’s feet. “How about foot massage? Is that a good thing to do?”
She closed her eyes and moaned. “Definitely.”
He worked slowly, paying attention to each foot, then moving upward. Her calves, her thighs, her hands, her arms, her shoulders.
Josie went limp, fully enjoying the massage. He rolled her onto her stomach, then worked on her back until his hands ached. The rest of his body ached, too, for an entirely different reason. The experience of having full access to Josie’s body, without touching it in an overtly sexual way, was sweet torture.
When he stopped, she rolled over and sighed. “That was incredible.”
He was kneeling on the floor next to the couch. Josie reached out and touched his brow, traced the scar on his left eyebrow, one he’d gotten at a baseball game when they were kids.
“I remember when this happened. You bled all over first base and Jimmy Santiago passed out at the sight of all that blood.”
He laughed. “I forgot all about that. We teased Jimmy for years afterward.”
“Is that why he stole your prom date?”
“Maybe.”
He’d always told Josie that she had been his backup date. They’d argued over it a million times.
“Don’t start in on prom just because I mentioned it,” she said.
But he couldn’t resist. “You were such a tease.”
“Was not.”
“You wouldn’t even give me a good-night kiss. Other guys were losing their virginity, and I was going home to take a cold shower. What a prom date you were.”
“You didn’t deserve a kiss. I was your fourth-choice date!”
He grinned. “Well, that’s what I told you back then, anyway.”
She smiled. “Jerk.”
“What can I say—I was a dumb teenager.”
“Now there’s something we can agree on.” She laughed, pulled a pillow off the couch and walloped him with it.
Trent caught her arms and pinned them up over her head. “So, if I let you go, are you gonna get up and give me my massage now, or will I have to demonstrate my skill in the ancient art of tickling?”
Josie’s eyes narrowed. “There’s no such thing as a free massage, is there?”
His voice took on a husky tone as he whispered, “I can think of better things I could give you for free.”
A slow smile spread across her lips. “Yeah? I’m waiting.”
He secured her wrists in one hand and trailed the fingers of his other hand down her arm until he reached her breast. There, he lingered, tracing a slow spiral inward until he reached her nipple.
When he found her neck with his lips and sucked gently, she gasped and arched herself
toward him. She was so ripe, so sweet, so tempting… No way he could resist. But if he didn’t slow down, he’d never be able to act out the all-night seduction he’d started with the erotic reading and the massage.
He paused and flashed Josie a wicked look.
“What?” she asked, immediately suspicious.
“Oh…just this.” And he launched into a tickle assault, buying himself a few minutes to regain his cool.
Josie screeched and tried to fight him off, but she was giggling too much to be any real threat. Trent climbed on top of her and went for her ribs, realizing too late that his new position, straddling her, wasn’t exactly going to ease his desire. She wiggled and squirmed until the remaining cushions fell off the couch and her dress had worked its way up to reveal that she really wasn’t wearing any underwear. Trent feared his zipper would burst from his straining erection.
“Uncle! Uncle!” Josie cried.
He stopped tickling but kept his fingers poised to continue if need be, while making a concerted effort not to stare at the sexy thatch of curls peaking out from beneath the hem of her dress. “Does that mean I get my massage now?”
“Sure,” she said, fighting a grin.
Trent narrowed his eyes. “Why don’t I believe you?”
“Because you know me too well?”
Trent tried to ignore the heat where their bodies met, but it was impossible. He wanted Josie now—no more playing around.
“Not as well as I’d like to know you,” he blurted, unsure exactly what he meant by that, except that he wanted to know every intimate detail of her body.
Josie’s expression turned serious. “We shouldn’t…”
When her voice trailed off, Trent leaned over and kissed her—a slow, coaxing kiss.
“I need lots of hands-on practice, teacher. Lots and lots,” he said when he ended the kiss.
Josie’s answer was a kiss of her own, passionate and deep. Their tongues danced in a prelude to what their bodies would do together as they fumbled to remove each other’s clothing.
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