“No, thanks.”
Good, because he wasn’t sure if his leg muscles could hold him up for a walk across the room, let alone a trek all the way to the kitchen. It was after midnight, and they’d spent the evening continuing what they’d started in the dressing rooms at the mall.
He could say for sure now that he was spent. At least for tonight. After a good night’s rest though…
He pulled Naomi closer, pressing himself against her backside. He may have been too exhausted for any more action at the moment, but still, the contact of her warm flesh caused him to stir.
He traced her belly button with his fingertip as he nuzzled his face against her hair.
“How did you get so damn sexy?” he said.
She laughed. “Don’t let my parents hear you say that. They raised me to be a proper lady. Nothing like I’ve been behaving with you.”
“Oh yeah? Would your dad chase me off with a shotgun if he knew what we were doing?”
“He’s a little more subtle than that. He’d probably force you to read his book about moral virtues, then lecture you on all the reasons you’re a bad influence on society.”
A sense of unease plopped itself down on Zane’s chest. “Your father wrote a book on moral virtues?”
“Have you ever heard of The Angel On Your Shoulder?”
Oh, hell. Her name was Naomi Tyler. It was such a common name, he hadn’t made the connection.
Zane’s mouth went dry, and he croaked, “Your father is Atchison Tyler?”
She rolled over to face him and propped her head on her hand. “The one and only. Do you want to stop sleeping with me now?”
Zane forced a laugh. “Of course not.”
Or did he?
“Most guys do when they find out.”
“Is that why you didn’t tell me you were Senator Tyler’s daughter?”
She flashed a guilty smile. “We just met yesterday. I usually make sure a guy likes me before I drop the Atchison Tyler bomb on them.”
Zane’s head was spinning. She’d dropped a bomb on him, all right, but she had no idea just what a big one it was.
“I can’t believe this,” he muttered, realizing too late that he’d said it out loud, that it wasn’t exactly going to soothe her insecurities about her father.
“I’m sorry. I wanted to have an exciting sex life—at least for a few days.”
“How could you not have an exciting sex life? You’re beautiful, hot, amazing in bed—”
“Stop. It’s really sweet of you to say all that, but I don’t have a great track record.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, happy to have a distraction from the whole Atchison Tyler news, which was threatening to make him lose his dinner.
“Of those few guys who made it past the news that they were dating the daughter of America’s unofficial authority on morality, none of them were ever able to, um, get me to a certain point of arousal, if you know what I mean.”
Zane blinked. “You mean they couldn’t make you come?”
She cast her gaze down at the sheets. “You’re the first guy who’s given me an orgasm.”
Zane blinked at the second bomb, careful to hide the fact that he was reeling.
She was twenty-nine years old, and she’d only yesterday had her first with-a-guy orgasm? Suddenly the weight of Naomi’s sexual future weighed on his shoulders, and he felt the way he had the day he’d found out his last lover was a supposedly virginal princess.
“It’s not your fault you were dating a bunch of idiots who didn’t know how to push the right buttons.”
She looked him in the eye, and he saw a vulnerability there he’d never seen before. “Thanks, but maybe I was just lousy in bed.”
“Baby, you’re an amazing lover.”
Naomi laughed. “Stop it—I wasn’t fishing for compliments.”
“You don’t have to fish. Not only are you sexy all over, but your enthusiasm is an incredible turn-on. There’s not a chance you were lousy in bed.”
He tilted her chin up and forced her to see the seriousness in his eyes.
“Guess I just needed to find the right guy,” she said.
The right guy. It was a big job, and Zane tended to avoid jobs that involved such heavy emotional baggage. But Naomi looked so different lying in his bed now, so opposite her usual perfectionist, confident self, he only wanted to hold her close, pleasure her until she forgot any stupid notions of not being good enough in bed.
Then he remembered the looming fact of her family name. She was Atchison Tyler’s daughter. He was about to break the story that would reveal America’s moral authority as a liar and an adulterer. No way around it—he shouldn’t be involved with Naomi.
And yet, if he stopped sleeping with her now, there wouldn’t be any excuse to make her believe she was the amazing lover he’d just claimed she was. She’d think he was ending their physical relationship because of her father, or because of her imaginary ineptitude in bed—or both. And she’d never guess the truth.
No, it was worse than that. When he broke the story, she’d hate him. She’d think he’d been sleeping with her to get more information on her father, and no amount of protesting would convince her otherwise.
Zane’s head-spinning turned into a pounding pressure in his temples.
How could he tell her the truth about her father? And when?
What would he say?
Hey babe, I’m working on a story now that’ll ruin your father’s career. No amount of image consulting will be able to save your dear old dad after I get finished with him.
Right.
He couldn’t tell her tonight. No way, no how.
Maybe tomorrow, once he’d had a chance to think of the right way to say it, when he was sure of all the facts, but even then, he knew what would happen. She’d shoot the messenger.
Maybe it would be better if she learned the truth along with the rest of America—when the story broke. Or was that the coward’s way out?
He couldn’t think straight, couldn’t quite recover from having two bombs dropped on him, one after another.
“So you’re not freaked out?” she asked, a smile playing on her lips.
“About what? How bad your ex-boyfriends must have been in bed? No way—it just makes me look that much more talented.” He assumed his best Rhett Butler expression, and she laughed.
“I meant about my father. Doesn’t it bother you even a little?”
“No,” he lied. “Maybe if I met him—and if he started issuing warnings about not defiling his pure, innocent daughter…”
She rolled onto her back, stretching her arms over her head in a feline movement. “That’s me, pure and untouched as the driven snow.”
The sheet had slipped down, revealing her breasts. Her nipples were dark, erect, begging for his attention. He slid his hand up her rib cage and cupped her breast, savoring the feel of her soft, hot flesh.
“I guess that makes me the defiler.”
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “That’s okay. I’ve needed to be properly defiled for a long, long time. So just put my dad—and that whole orgasm-impairment thing—out of your head. I’m sorry I mentioned any of it.”
If only he could put it out of his head. But now that he knew the truth about her father, he also knew it would be the thing that would drive Naomi out of his life just as quickly as she’d entered it.
And that should have made him happy. It really should have.
So why didn’t it?
11
THE PARK WAS CLUTTERED with people, all enjoying a beautiful Sunday morning outdoors. Naomi had to dodge other joggers, bicyclists, in-line skaters and pedestrians, but she was on enough of a runner’s high not to mind.
She was feeling rather virtuous for having jogged two entire miles without stopping at a single café. Swimsuit season, here she came. Svelte, toned, graceful…or not. But maybe at least a few pounds thinner. She could live with that.
With her heart pumping and her m
uscles protesting the exertion, she slowed her pace to a brisk walk as she neared her stopping point at the oak tree. When she was within a few feet of a nice grassy area under the tree where she intended to collapse, she spotted Talia sitting on a bench beside the trail.
“Hey, you missed my Olympic qualifying run.”
Talia sighed. “Long night. Sorry I’m late.”
“Another one? Who’s the lucky guy?”
“Ken, believe it or not.”
Talia was wearing her jogging gear but looked content to stay put, thank God, because runner’s high or not, Naomi was beat.
“I hope you’re not thinking I’ll do another few laps with you,” she said for good measure.
“Actually, I was hoping I could talk you into skipping any sweaty activities and having a latte with me.” She nodded at the spot next to her on the bench, where a cardboard drink carrier from their favorite coffee shop sat holding two large cups.
“Now you’re talking.” Naomi took one of the cups and settled onto the bench for a nice, long stay. “I should be stretching right now.”
“But then you’d miss the view,” Talia said as she eyed a couple of bare-chested college guys jogging by.
“True. So what exactly is the deal with you and Ken?”
“Oh God, he’s trying to court me or something. It’s so 1950s. He wants me to go on a date with him tonight.”
“You know, people still do sometimes date before having sex. It’s not an unheard-of thing.”
“I say, down with dating. If I have to suffer through a crappy dinner and some boring ‘so what do you do for a living’ conversation just to get laid, I’m going to start hiring gigolos.”
Naomi bit her lip to keep from laughing. If she accidentally encouraged her, Talia might actually do it. “Maybe I could run a gigolo service. That could be my next career, after I’m ruined by Zane Underwood and his disaster makeover.”
“It’s going that badly?”
Their gazes followed an Antonio Banderas look-alike as he jogged past, his brown skin glistening with sweat.
“It’s a fun sort of disaster, but still a disaster. Every time I try to work with him, we end up in bed.”
“This guy didn’t want to be made over in the first place, right?”
“Right. It’s a Mediacom-mandated thing.”
“Sounds like he’s just trying to distract you from your job.”
“Absolutely, he is.”
“And it’s working?”
Naomi got a sinking feeling. “Yes and no. I mean, I think I’ve got him under control, but I don’t know for sure….”
Was she just being played? And did it matter, when she had her own agenda for sleeping with Zane?
“Because your brain is clouded by sex.”
“He’s just digging his own grave, if that’s the case. He’s going to lose his job if he doesn’t let me do mine.”
Talia shrugged. “He’s a guy, after all. Maybe he considers the sex part of his makeover.”
“I really should stop sleeping with him. I know I’m not orgasm-impaired now, and I am getting a little distracted.”
“Sure, if you can give up the great sex, go for it. Be a professional kind of girl and stop screwing your client.”
“You’re not funny. I’ll be finished with him in a couple of days anyway, and this will all be moot…. If it isn’t already.”
She cast a glance at Talia, who narrowed her eyes. “Why would it be?”
“I told him last night about my father, and about the whole orgasm thing.”
“Ooh, two blows at once?”
“I didn’t plan it that way. I was just so relaxed, I sort of forgot myself.”
“How did he react?”
“Completely cool—suspiciously so. I have a feeling he was bothered more than he let on, but he was really sweet about the sex issue.”
Talia shrugged. “Hey, maybe you’ve finally found a guy who can not only make you come, but who isn’t intimidated by your father.”
“Doubtful, but we’ll see tomorrow. I’ve set him up with an appointment to get his hair cut, and I’m meeting him there.”
“I bet you’ve grown attached to the guy-induced orgasms. I told you they were more fun.”
“My orgasms have always been guy-induced. Now they’re just being induced by a real guy, live and in the flesh.”
“Speaking of the big O, I should mention that Ken treated me to several last night,” Talia said, not sounding as pleased with herself as she should have been.
“And? What’s the problem?”
“He did it on the condition that I’d have to go on a real date with him tonight.”
“Maybe you’ll find out he’s smart and funny and interesting, and then you’ll have a great sex partner who you can also talk to.”
“Right. And maybe he’ll be a master chef and professional housekeeper, too.”
“Your problem is you expect people to have only one expertise. You act like everyone is a specialist at something in life, and no one can have multiple relationship skills.”
“I’ve dated enough losers to know it’s true. Some guys are good for sex, other guys are good for fixing your car, gay guys are good for shopping, and women are good for listening.”
Naomi had heard Talia’s theory before, and she wasn’t buying it. “What about Zane? He’s great in bed, he’s intelligent and he’s fun to talk to.”
“He probably has some hidden flaw that negates his secondary talents. Like he secretly writes confession letters to Rump Rider magazine, describing warped versions of all his sexual experiences.”
“He does not!”
“He’ll call you Naughty Naomi in the letter he writes about you, and he’ll claim you spoke in tongues every time you climaxed.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
And why, Naomi wondered a second too late, was she so vehemently defending Zane?
Talia gave her a look. “You’re smitten, aren’t you?”
“No, absolutely not.” Was she? “It’s just like you said. I’m getting great sex for the first time in my life.”
And if she was smitten, why didn’t she want to admit it to her best friend? Or to herself, for that matter?
“Or is it that you know falling for a guy like Zane would be dangerous?”
“What do you mean?” Naomi asked, though she was afraid she already knew.
“Let’s see…He’s gorgeous, he’s a world-renowned playboy, he’s got this fabulous, interesting career, women plot to get his attention wherever he goes…. Is that dangerous enough?”
“That’s the beauty of sleeping with him. He’s clearly not serious dating material.”
“Except that you don’t approach guys in such a clinical way. You can’t help but let your heart get involved.”
Oh hell. Talia was right.
She had let her heart get involved. It had only been two measly days, and already she’d let her silly, traditional, marriage-and-children heart start hoping for something more.
“You’re the one who said I should make a booty call!”
“I said one night. You sleep with a guy for one night—you’re in, you’re out, you’re done. That’s a booty call. You stick around longer and you risk messy emotions spoiling all your fun.”
“So what if you’re right? What if I am a little smitten?”
Talia gave her a sympathetic look. “Don’t feel bad, sweetie. Zane Underwood is a world-class hottie. It could have happened to me, even.”
“That doesn’t really help.”
“Okay, what you do is, you finish your work as his image consultant as quickly as you can, and then you make a clean break.”
“Why wait until we’re finished working together?” Naomi asked, though the idea of making a clean break made her stomach bunch up in a knot.
“You can’t stop sleeping with him now if it’s going to create bad blood and make it too hard to finish your work with him.”
“Oh, right.”<
br />
“And no second-guessing! You can’t go around wondering what might have been, after the fact. Because common sense should tell you now that the only eventual outcome is a nasty breakup.”
Why, for heaven’s sake, was Naomi listening to Talia for relationship advice, anyway? It was like going to a Third World dictator for advice on how to run a democracy.
But as soon as the question formed in her head, she knew the answer. She was navigating uncharted territory here. Having sex without commitment, having sex with an inappropriate guy, breaking up to avoid emotional entanglements—this was Talia’s territory, and it was only natural to look to her for guidance out of it. Especially since following her advice had gotten Naomi into this uncharted land in the first place.
Well, except following Talia’s advice in any romantic matter generally was a bad idea.
And here she was, the queen of self-doubt again, so unsure what to do, she was looking to Talia for decision-making help. She needed help, all right. From a licensed professional.
“You’re sitting there second-guessing yourself, aren’t you?”
“No. Well, maybe. But thanks for the advice. I need to give this whole thing some more thought. What about your little Ken problem? What are you going to do with him?”
On the field across from them, a game of Ultimate Frisbee had started up. And now bare-chested guys were darting all over the field for the women’s viewing pleasure. Naomi couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen so many hot-looking guys at the park in one day. Maybe they needed to do Sunday-morning jogging more often.
Talia finally spoke up. “The thing is, I don’t care if he’s interesting, or a great cook, or anything else. I don’t want to get involved.”
“Then sounds like you’re in the same boat as me. I hope you can row better than I can.”
“Actually, I was hoping you could do me a huge favor.”
“If it involves sleeping with Ken, forget about it.”
“Nothing so complex. I just want you and your sex boy to show up tonight where I’m having dinner with Ken. You two can bump into us and act like you didn’t know we were going to be there, and I’ll invite you to join us for dinner.”
“Why?”
“So I won’t have to make small talk with him.”
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