Simply Sex (22 page)

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Authors: Dawn Atkins

BOOK: Simply Sex
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J
ANIE WAS ALMOST
relieved when the TV crew arrived. Seth looked so good to her she wanted to run into his arms. He wanted to talk about them. But they were all wrong for each other. Love could alter your perceptions, but it didn’t change who you were. She would have to explain it to Seth.
But first she had to save Personal Touch. The cameraman was setting up the lights. She felt as if she was waiting for the dentist to give her the injection, jumpy, breathless, her heart in her throat.

She looked at Seth, who smiled bravely at her, trying to encourage her, though he was plainly nervous himself. He kept clearing his throat and fidgeting and he sat on the very edge of his chair. His hair was newly cut and his shirt had fresh-from-the-package creases in it. And he was going to defend a dating service on television. Very against his nature. He was doing this because he cared for her.

How could she believe anything she wanted this much?

The cameraman gave her the mic cord to slide down her blouse, so she did that, her fingers trembling, her heart pounding so loud she was sure the man could feel it against his fingers as he clipped the device to her collar. She was so sweaty she felt as if she’d walked through a car wash.

“You’ll be fine,” he said, stepping back.

“She’ll be great,” Seth said, sounding annoyed the guy thought she needed reassurance.

She smiled at him. He could be so sweet.

“All set?” The reporter—a different one from the day before—smiled his fake smile at her.

Stay relaxed, speak warmly, be honest.
That’s what Kylie had advised her. Stay relaxed? With a light so bright it hurt her eyes shining down on her, a huge camera lens zeroing in on her every flaw, a smarmy reporter primed to trip her up? But she would do it. She had to. For Personal Touch. For herself. She took a deep breath from her diaphragm, sat up straight, smiled and said, “Ready when you are.”

The interview went like lightning and her practice paid off. One by one, she neutralized the loaded questions and delivered her message: The Personal Touch system works and no one tries harder to find love matches than Jane Falls. By the end, the reporter seemed almost annoyed. She hoped it was because she hadn’t given him anything to exploit. Kylie shot her a secret thumbs-up.

“That’s it, I guess,” the reporter said. “Who’s next?”

Seth, of course, who wiped his forehead with his sleeve. They shifted the lights, arranged his chair and set him up with the mic. As she waited, Janie’s gaze fell to the trash where she’d tossed his magazine story. What had he written exactly? She scooted her chair to the edge of her desk, found the folded pages and began to read.

The heart and soul of Personal Touch is owner Janie Falls, who tempers her starry-eyed romance with a steel-
spined practicality….
That was nice. She kept reading. Seth wrote about her inventory and screening process and people skills, even the skating party, listing her descriptions of the couples and predictions about their futures. He even described her reaction to the Jensens naming their little girl after her. He called her a marvel.

She read further.
Of course, a service this ambitious experiences setbacks—a disgruntled client who wants women all wrong for him, and a client base slow to build because of its careful screening requirements.

She looked up from the page as the interview started. Seth explained to the reporter how each of his suspicions about her business practices had been wrong. He even made a joke about Gail either making sex callers into clients or sending them to therapy.

Then he turned to the reporter and spoke dead-on. “Sure, there are scams and overpriced services and even hookers masquerading as dates, but Personal Touch is for real. Janie Falls, too.” He glanced at her, then stared back at the reporter. “She should be granted sainthood, not maligned by reporters too cynical to believe in love…myself included.”

“Okay. I get it,” the reporter said with a frustrated sigh. “That’s it.” He made a cut gesture at the cameraman and practically rolled his eyes. That sound bite, delicious as it was, would never make airtime, but she didn’t care.

Seth believed in her. And he wanted to be with her. Was that enough?

Sure, his face was warm and open, not skeptical and gloomy, but she could be under a spell, deluding herself again. Like always.

She was so troubled she was almost relieved when the TV crew stayed around, keeping her from her moment of truth with Seth. The camera guy had a newly divorced sister and needed an info packet. The reporter took her aside to inquire how many women “of his caliber” belonged to Personal Touch, and he, too, took a packet. In the lobby, she heard Gail handing out flyers for upcoming socials to post at the television station.

But finally she was alone with Seth in her office. “Thank you for what you did,” she said, her heart so full it hurt.

“I meant every word. And more.” He took a step closer. “Janie…I was so wrong.”

“I don’t know what to say, Seth. We’re a terrible match. I, um, did an inventory on us.”

“You did?” He blinked at her.

She nodded miserably. “And it’s a mess. I had to cheat like crazy to get us even on speaking terms, let alone in a relationship.”

“But you only guessed at my answers. Maybe it’s not as bad as you think. Show me what you’ve got.”

“I don’t know….” But her heart rose with new hope, and she led him to the video library and pulled their profiles out of the file cabinet where she’d stuffed them in despair.

She handed Seth the printout she’d filled in by hand, and he sat at the table to study the pages, his brow furrowed.

“Here’s your problem. I can be more positive than that.” He grabbed a pencil out of the holder, erased a mark, and bubbled in something higher.

“Seth, that’s not you. That’s Mr. Sunshine.”

“Or me when I’m around you.” He looked up at her, absolutely sincere. Was she seeing things? He bent his head and read through the next section. “Conformity is not my thing, true, but I’d consider some traditional options. A ranch house and an SUV, say, if it mattered a lot to you.” He glanced up at her, more convincing than ever, then down again.

She noticed the fresh red prickles on the back of his neck from where the barber had shaved him. A plastic price-tag holder stuck up from the collar of the brand-new shirt he’d bought to wear while he humiliated himself on television to help her. She felt such a rush of tenderness she wanted to cry. “You don’t have to do this,” she said, covering his hand to stop the pencil.

“I want you to believe in us,” he said, giving her a shot of his blue eyes. There was no shard of cynicism in their depths, just fire and commitment and…love. “I guess I lost faith in myself, but you brought it back. Sounds hokey, but…”

“Seth…I—I’m just not sure….”

“I thought you might say that. So I brought proof.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a VHS tape, which he slid into the VCR across the table. He pressed play and there he was on the monitor, saying how hard he was to get along with, his grin belying his words.


You
took the tape,” she said.

“I had to. Too incriminating.” His smile was teasing.

She watched as he explained that his favorite view would be her face. Again she saw how he seemed to stare right into her soul. The picture wobbled, then went slightly out of focus. Then she saw her back as she stumbled into Seth’s arms. And there it was—the kiss. They held each other tight, Seth’s fingers digging into her back as though he never wanted to let go. He pulled away to look into her eyes, then dug in for more of her mouth. It was impressive, but it could still just be lust and adrenaline.

Seth pushed pause, freezing them in each other’s arms. “See what I mean?”

She saw…and she didn’t see. The answer wasn’t in the fuzzy video really. Or in the mismatched inventory. She looked down at it and saw the answer—in the shreds of eraser, the twice-rewritten numbers—their frantic efforts to prove that what they felt in their hearts was enough. She looked up to Seth’s face. More answers…in the fiery determination in his eyes, in the stubborn set of his jaw, in the hope that softened the hard planes of his face.

Where was the inventory of this? Fire, determination, hope? The intangibles that held people together in love? She knew about them, counted on it with clients. That was why she interviewed them. For the extra intuitive leaps she needed to find the right matches.

She picked up the papers and, holding Seth’s gaze, slowly tore them in pieces. “Not everything fits on a chart.”

“Oh, yeah?” He smiled that darling half smile.

“I’ve been wrong so many times in my own life…I was afraid to trust myself.”

“Come on, Janie. You’ve got a crusty cynic wanting two kids and how-was-your-day blather over meat loaf on Tuesdays. And cognac in front of the fire and moonlit walks and frickin’ calico cats.”

She laughed and knew he was right.

“Oh, and you in your Saturday panties.” He said the words low and leaned over to kiss her, soft and slow. “We never got to the sex attitudes on your profile. How did they come out?”

“Synchronicity,” she breathed.

“Are you sure?” He kissed her again and every instinct in her soul told her this was right. She’d never before given her heart. Not all of it. She’d held back. Maybe she’d chosen men she knew weren’t really available to her. But Seth was here—all of him—for her. This was the compatibility of hearts. The compatibility that counted.

T
HEY WENT
to Janie’s place. Normally, she would offer him something to eat, put on some soft music, light some candles, don a sexy teddy and generally set the scene. But neither of them needed anything but each other. Seth took her in his arms and kissed her, and all she wanted was him and her together.
She didn’t need to fuss or fix or primp or hold in her stomach or turn the lights low. She was enough, just as she was, and she knew it, through and through.

“Are you okay?” he asked her, kissing her before she could answer.

“Fine,” she managed to mumble into his mouth. She broke away, took his hand and tugged him straight to her bedroom.

When they got there, he froze. “Condoms.” He patted his pocket. “I don’t have any.”

“I do, but I’m on the pill…”

“And I’m healthy as a horse.”

“Hung like one, too,” she said, surprising herself, but she felt so free with him that she could say anything.

“Flattery will get you laid,” he said, kissing her again, sliding down to her neck and working magic there for a few seconds. He held her backside in both broad palms. Oh, he did have the best hands.

Smiling into each other’s faces, they undressed each other, kissing every few seconds, as if for strength. Seth examined every inch of her as he uncovered it, studying her breasts like they were works of art, just the way he’d looked at her when he took her photographs. His looks were like touches, so intense, so vivid, she thought she might climax from that alone.

He squeezed her shoulders, then slid his grip down her arms. “I can’t believe I have you,” he said. He cupped both breasts in his fabulous hands.

“Oh, you have me,” she said, her legs turning to water. “Every inch of me.” She’d never felt this way making love to a man. She was offering up her entire being—body, heart, mind—and it was safe. Maybe because he was giving himself fully to her, too.
I’m yours. Take good care of me.
What could possibly be sexier than that?

He hugged her tight, wrapping his arms fully around her so she was completely enveloped in his embrace. The hard velvet of his erection was there, showing how much he wanted her, making her liquid with want. She slid her hips against him and he groaned, leveling his gaze, seething with new heat.

She backed up to her bed, threw back the covers and pulled him down with her. They lay face-to-face and explored each other’s bodies. This felt so new. Every inch of his skin, muscular and firm, seemed like a miracle. Every brush of his fingers set her on fire. He stroked her nipples, watching as they beaded with arousal. She rotated her hips toward him.

He reached down to cover her pubic area with his hot palm, sending a shudder through her. She ached for him, for all of him.

She grasped his penis and he pushed into her palm. Looking into each other’s eyes, they worked each other with their hands.

“I love how you feel,” she said.

“You, too. You’re soft and strong. I love that you’re both. Everywhere.”

She smiled, trying to focus on his words while his fingers were doing breath-stopping things to her sex. It confused her to feel so hot and so tender at the same time.

“I’m in love with you, Janie.”

“Me, too. With you.” That was all she could manage, with arousal prickling through her, rising in her brain like a hot tide. She wanted him inside her, wanted their bodies as close as bodies could be.

She shifted, put her leg over his, allowing space for him to enter her while they lay on their sides.

Seth eased slowly into her, watching her face, pushing in inch by inch, and she welcomed each tiny movement, which seemed like the gift of himself. The slick space she opened to him was her acceptance, the squeeze and release of her internal muscles her gift back. They clung to each other, arms wrapped tightly as they rocked their hips gently back and forth.

Wordlessly, they climbed the peak at a steadily building pace, their eyes fixed on each other’s, the blue of Seth’s smoky with desire…and love. Her orgasm warned her with a tingling rush.

“I’m about to…”

“I know,” he said and smiled that cocky smile. He watched until she had to close her eyes and cry out her pleasure.

“Janie,” he breathed in her ear and then he let go, too.

She’d had sex before, but not like this. Sex with love made all the difference in the world.

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