| "What would you like to
know?"
Can you make the earth move?
Got any fireworks in your pocket?
Pertinent questions, Jana thought. At least
in her painfully, uninformed opinion. Darned appropriate, too,
considering the sparks still skimming along the surface of her
skin.
Risk it. Those two words held more
meaning for her than Ben could possibly know.
"Well . . ." She drew in a deep
breath, gathering more gumption to risk it. "Are
orgasms really everything everyone says they are?"
She hardly thought it possible to surprise
him more than she already had with her earlier admission, but
obviously the feminine mystique was hardly in danger. Not if she
used the distinct hike of his eyebrows and the curiosity filling
his pale blue eyes as a barometer.
He took a long, slow drink from the amber
bottle of beer clutched in his hand. "You seriously don't
know?" he finally asked. A dark lock fell across his forehead
and he rammed his fingers through his hair to push it back in
place. His hand stilled at the back of his neck a moment before
dropping to the table.
She shook her head and twirled the stem of
her wine glass. "Nope."
"Not close?" His long fingers
flexed, tightening around the bottle. "Not even once?"
Did he have to sound so shocked? "Well .
. ." she considered her answer for a moment. "Maybe.
Once." She shook her head. "No. On second thought, I
don't think it was the real thing."
He stared at her with that intense, icy gaze,
as if she'd just spoken in a foreign language. Or tongues.
"You don't think?" He laughed.
Full, robust laughter that made her smile despite the
embarrassment of discussing her malfunctioning G-spot. "This
I do have to hear."
She held up her index finger and gave him a
look of mock sternness. "Hold it a minute. I thought I was
the one supposed to be asking the questions here?"
His grin deepened. "Yeah, but your
answers are very intriguing."
"More like embarrassing," she
muttered, then took a sip of her wine.
His expression sobered. "Don't be
embarrassed, Jana. Inexperience is nothing to be ashamed of."
She set her glass on the damp napkin. "I
never said I was inexperienced. There's a difference."
"Not if you've never had an
orgasm," he said as he leaned forward. "Your lovers
must've been damned selfish."
She cleared her throat, so not wanting to go
there. A sharp stab of self-consciousness pierced her, then she
quickly chastised herself for being so silly. Ben was absolutely
right. Why should she be embarrassed, by their conversation or
because she'd had lousy lovers -- she hoped? Tonight, she could
say or do anything. It wasn't like she'd ever see him again.
"A source of entertainment, then,"
she amended.
The color of his eyes deepened to the color
of the ocean. "I have a feeling you'd be a very entertaining
woman."
The air practically crackled with electricity
around them at his quietly spoken words. A sharp tug of desire
grabbed hold and refused to relinquish its grip. "I was
wondering the same thing," she said brazenly, unable to look
away. "About you."
Oh good grief, why not just write "take
me now, stud" on her forehead in bright red lipstick? It'd
certainly be direct, but nowhere near as fun and liberating as
flirting so outrageously with such a gorgeous hunk.
A slow, lazy smile curved his mouth. He had
such a great looking mouth, too, with a full bottom lip she was
dying to taste.
Her breath caught, then came out in a rush.
If just the thought of kissing him nearly stole her breath, she
couldn't wait to see what would happen if -- no, when --
she took a shot at reality. |
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