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  Nancy groaned. “No one’s out of your league, honey.”

  “Wanna bet? You know how I am with guys, Nance.”

  Lara stepped back from Nancy’s shaking finger. “That’s your own fault. You have a lot to offer, you just don’t know it. You’re beautiful, intelligent, have a witty sense of humor and guys look at you all the time.”

  “Yeah, right. I’ve never seen guys looking at me. I only see them looking at you.” And what man wouldn’t? With Nancy’s perfect body, short, raven hair and stunning blue eyes, what man would notice Lara when the two of them stood together?

  “That’s because you don’t pick up the signals. You know, for someone who claims to have all this knowledge about the opposite sex, you sure suck at recognizing a man’s interest.”

  “You’re insane, woman. But I love you anyway. Now what am I supposed to wear to dinner?”

  Nancy’s lips curled in an evil grin that always made Lara wary. “Something hot and sexy.”

  “Business dinner, not prelude to a seduction.”

  “It could be, if you wanted it to.”

  “Forget it, Nance. He’s a reporter, here for a story on that idiotic masturbation-a-thon you forced me to enter, and then he’s outta here.”

  “Oh, but you’re so good at masturbation, Lara. I knew you’d be a shoo-in to win.”

  She couldn’t help it. One glance at Nancy’s innocently batting eyelashes and Lara burst into laughter. “Gee, thanks. I think. Remind me not to tell you so much about my personal life anymore.”

  Nancy pulled the purple sundress out of the pile and held it against Lara. “Hey, you’re the sexpert, not me. Can I help it if we’ve known each other since we were five years old and share every sordid detail about our personal lives, including sex? Or should I say, the lack of it?”

  Smoothing her hand over the sinfully soft material of the dress, Lara shook her head. “My lack of it. You get plenty.”

  “That’s because I recognize the signals men give off. You’d get more sex if you pulled your head out of your research and started focusing on the real thing.”

  Real thing? Sex? Bah. No such luck in that department. She’d already tried and failed miserably.

  Besides, she got plenty of sex. It just so happened to be the do-it-yourself variety. And she was good at it. Damn good.

  As if being an expert at masturbating was something to be proud of. How pathetic.

  An hour later she was dressed in silk that clung to her body much too closely. Did it have to be purple? She should have chosen another one. Mark had said he liked purple, although he had been referring to the panty incident at the time. She didn’t want him to think she’d worn the purple dress to impress him.

  Not that he’d be impressed anyway, regardless of what she wore.

  Nancy, who’d decided to hang around and get a peek at Mark, pronounced her sultry.

  Lara just felt stupid and overdressed. And Nancy had insisted she pull her hair up into a clip and let her long curls sail down her back.

  Ugh. She’d feel better having it braided so it wouldn’t annoy her, but there was no fighting Nancy once she got an idea into her head.

  When a knock sounded at the door, Lara’s heart sank into her stomach.

  “Don’t answer it,” she said when Nancy started toward the front door. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to go.”

  Nancy rolled her eyes and ignored her. “Coward. You’re going, so don’t bother trying to hide. I’ll just drag you out here again.”

  Nancy graced Mark with her most cheerful smile as she threw open the door, shook his hand and let him in. “Hey there, you must be Mark. I’m Nancy, Lara’s best friend.”

  “Hey there yourself, Nancy.” Mark grinned.

  Still in those jeans that looked as soft as a baby’s blanket, Mark had changed into a white shirt that showed off his great tan. The room temperature increased by at least ten degrees and Lara was thankful the dress she wore was sleeveless.

  Always comfortable around men, Nancy engaged Mark in an easy discussion that made Lara wish she had her friend’s gift for gab.

  Oh sure, the two of them hit it off like they were old friends. Maybe Nancy could go out to dinner with him instead.

  “You look great,” he said, finally noticing her standing there despite her best efforts to blend in with the furniture.

  “Thank you.” She cleared the squeak from her throat.

  “Well, don’t you two make a charming pair,” Nancy stated, looking as satisfied as if she’d personally set Lara up on a blind date.

  Lara glared at her and turned to Mark. “You ready?”

  “Sure. Let’s go. Nice meeting you, Nancy.”

  “You too, Mark. Have fun, honey,” she said to Lara as they approached the door.

  “Thanks, Mom,” she whispered to her friend, hugging her. “You sure you don’t want to come along?” Please say yes.

  “No way. I’ve got a hot date of my own tonight. Enjoy!” Nancy winked and slammed the door shut, then hurried to her car while Mark led her to his.

  Hot date, indeed. Mark would be so bored he’d have her back home in an hour.

  She suggested a steak place downtown, which Mark readily agreed to try. Once seated at a booth in the restaurant, she waited for him to drag out his laptop or notebook and resume the interview.

  “Nice place,” he said.

  “Yeah, it is.” Can I go home now?

  “Do you eat here often?”

  She shrugged. “Sometimes. I don’t get out much.”

  He arched a brow. “Why not?”

  Because I have no reason to go out, and no one asks me out anyway. “Um, too busy with research.”

  “Sex research?”

  Did he have to grin at her like that? His eyes reflected heat she was unprepared to handle. “Yes, sex research.”

  “Is all your research academic-related, or is there some, uh, hands-on?”

  She spit her tea back into the glass. Not very ladylike at all. Wondering how long before this so-called interview would be over and she could go home and hide, she said, “Obviously, there’s some hands-on research.”

  “So, that means you date a lot?”

  Lara couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “Not really.”

  “Steady boyfriend then?”

  “Sort of.” She smiled behind her glass.

  “Does he live around here?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  Mark shrugged his impressive shoulders. “Just thought we might throw his name in the article.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so.”

  “First name only, then?”

  “Bob.” Nancy would die when Lara told her what she’d admitted to Mark.

  “Bob’s a lucky guy, then.”

  Smooth talker, and as full of it as they came, too. “Thanks.”

  “Does he help you with the research for your books?”

  She really should tell him who Bob was, but she couldn’t bring herself to get any more personal than she already had. “Yes, extensively.”

  “Even luckier, then.”

  “So, do you have any more questions for the article?” In other words, Mr. Smooth, get your mind out of my gutter and back on your job.

  He knew it too. She could tell by his sly smile.

  They spent the rest of dinner talking about her background, education and books. Subjects Lara took an avid interest in. As opposed to her social life, which was nonexistent enough to cause a huge stop in conversation.

  By the time he’d paid the check, she was more than ready to head back to her little hovel and hide from the world again.

  She couldn’t get out of his car fast enough. Unfortunately, Mr. Sexy-and-Chivalrous felt compelled to walk her to the door. Really, this was small-town Pennsylvania, not the streets of New York. She hardly needed an escort to the front door.

  “Thank you for dinner,” she
said, rummaging through her purse for her keys and trying to avoid looking at him. As it was, his image would remain in her memory banks long after he was gone.

  She couldn’t wait to get inside and do what she’d thought about doing with him all night long. Too bad he wouldn’t be there for it.

  “You’re welcome. Thanks for agreeing to the interview.”

  Clearly he wasn’t going to go away until she looked at him. She turned, smiled and held out her hand. “Nice meeting you, Mark.”

  He tilted his head to the side and looked a bit confused. Then he leaned in, his face inches away from hers.

  Oh no. Oh hell no! He wasn’t going to do that, was he? Surely not. She wasn’t his type at all. He was hot and sexy and she was just plain frumpy. She fought back panic as her thoughts ran rampant. His breath sailed across her cheek as he bent his head toward hers.

  Then he shocked the hell out of her by brushing his lips against hers. His soft mouth teased and tormented.

  Her toes curled, her heart pounded so loud she was certain he could hear it thumping against her ribs. This kind of thing never happened to women like her. Men like Mark Whitman didn’t kiss boring, socially retarded professors.

  But he did. Right on the lips, his breath tinged with the sweet wine they’d consumed at dinner. His mouth was soft, gliding ever so gently over hers.

  She couldn’t breathe. How long had it been since she’d been kissed?

  Oh, hell. She’d never been kissed like this. One touch of mouth to mouth and she was heading for a coronary.

  As quickly as it started, it was over. Lara had to right herself because she’d leaned clean into him.

  He grinned and said, “Night, Lara. Good luck with your next book.”

  She watched him walk away and suddenly she felt like Ilsa saying goodbye to Rick in Casablanca. She was certain that wistful, I-wish-things-could-be-different look hung on her expression long after he’d driven off.

  She was such a dork!

  After slipping inside and tossing off her uncomfortable shoes, she headed straight for the bedroom.

  Cinderella night was over. She hung up Nancy’s sundress and returned to her ratty shorts and T-shirt.

  Thankfully, that ordeal was over. But Mark’s kiss still burned on her lips, making her feel hot, flustered and utterly foolish. How old was she, anyway? Fourteen?

  “You’re a moron, Lara. You really need to get out more. Your social skills are atrocious.” And now she was talking to herself, a habit brought about by spending way too much time alone.

  She plopped down at her desk and turned on the computer, blowing out a sigh of frustration. The computer wasn’t the only thing turned on.

  Why couldn’t she be like other women? She was approaching thirty. Well-educated, sexually knowledgeable, with the sexual experience of the average teenager. Less, actually, if her research was accurate. Her few forays into sexual escapades had been one bomb after another.

  Meanwhile, gorgeous, sexy men like Mark Whitman blew in and out of her life like a snowstorm.

  Another one bites the dust, Lara, and all you got was a little taste of what could be.

  Her work blurred on the screen, her body on fire from a simple peck on the lips.

  No sense in waiting while the urge was so strong right now. Time to go find Bob and get a little relief.

  She pushed away from the desk and headed into the bedroom, plopping down on the bed. Slipping off her T-shirt and shorts, she reached into the nightstand drawer. Toys of every shape, size and texture imaginable filled the drawer, making it look like an overstuffed toybox for the perverse. She giggled and wrapped her palm around Bob, the big boy.

  Leaning back against the pillows, she closed her eyes and imagined Mark, his face and body coming into view quite clearly. Only this time he didn’t just stand there and smile that sexy smile at her. This time, he stood at the foot of her bed and began to undress.

  She planted her feet flat on the bed and spread her legs, flipping Bob’s switch and smiling as he whirred to life. Just the sound of her favorite vibrator got her juices flowing.

  Not that hadn’t been flowing all night long at dinner. By the time Mark had dropped her off her panties were soaked. Talking about sex always turned her on. Talking about sex with someone as hot as Mark Whitman had her ready to explode.

  Snagging her bottom lip between her teeth, she slipped Bob between her legs, letting its soft vibration tickle her clit. She squeezed her buttocks together at the exquisite sensation, rocking her hips back and forth and moving Bob along her slit. Hot cream poured from her cunt and down the crack of her ass. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this wet or this excited.

  And she knew why. Visions of Mark standing naked before her crept into her fantasies. He arched a dark brow, crawling onto the bed and stopping between her legs. She watched in utter rapture as he bent down, pulled Bob away and planted his mouth firmly over her sex.

  She shrieked at the heat pulsing through her. When he licked the length of her, sliding his tongue inside her pussy and licking up the cream there, she moaned, thrashing around on the bed like she was on fire and trying to escape the heat.

  But she didn’t want to escape. Instead, she slid Bob between her folds, imagining Mark’s cock. Thick and long, it breached her tight entrance with one quick thrust, embedding him deep inside her.

  She knew he’d fuck like a savage. Exactly what she wanted, what she needed. Rough, determined, well-practiced in the art of pleasing a woman.

  His mouth captured hers, his tongue mimicking the movements of his tunneling cock. The knot of nerves at her clit exploded and she cried out, thrusting upward and against him, holding tight as she rode out cresting wave after wave until she collapsed, shattered and exhausted.

  Shutting off Bob’s switch, she closed her eyes and fought for even breathing.

  That was good. Really good. And for the first time, despite her amazing orgasm, having sex with her vibrator just wasn’t quite good enough.

  * * * * *

  Kissed her. Why the hell had he kissed her?

  Mark emailed the article to Total Man Magazine, then shut down the laptop and packed up his things. He’d spent the majority of the night writing and in his estimation it had come out damn good.

  Now to get the family stuff over with. It was a short drive to his uncle Roger’s house, anyway. Might as well stay there and save the money TMM had fronted for his expenses.

  It wasn’t that he was trying to get as far away from Lara McKenzie as he could. After all, she was an interview—a means to an end. The end being money and a contract with the top magazine in the country.

  No, he wasn’t interested in her. She wasn’t his type at all. He didn’t go for redheads with more mind than body. He liked willowy blondes who enjoyed fun and games with no commitment. Not brainiacs like Lara. The only stimulation he wanted from women was the physical kind.

  Lara stimulated him all right. Mentally and physically. In his book, that was bad news.

  His career was his number one goal. And if this article came out as well as he thought it would, he could thank Lara for getting him the in to TMM that he’d wanted for years.

  She’d been so out of her element last night it was painfully obvious. He’d nearly ended up apologizing to her for making her go to dinner with him. For a woman who claimed to be an expert in all things sexual, she didn’t have a clue.

  Yet there was something about her that drove him crazy. Innocence, maybe? God knows he’d met very few women as naïve as Lara. Miss Published Sexpert was not as experienced as she led people to believe. At least not practical experience.

  The kiss had been his way of atoning for making her uncomfortable. That had to be the reason he’d done it.

  The only reason. Except that innocent little brushing of lips had lit him up like a wildfire on dry tinder.

  Maybe he’d been the one out of his element, not Lara. He wasn’t used to women like her.

  Good thing
he’d never have to see her again.

  Chapter Three

  Slipping into the guest room to avoid the noise of his family, Mark pressed the cell phone to his ear. The call he’d waited two days for had finally come through. Jonathan Smitz, the senior editor for TMM, was finally calling about the article he’d done on Lara McKenzie.

  “Jonathan, could you say that again?”

  “The article is perfect, Mark. Fantastic job.”

  He grinned, smelling success. “Glad you liked it.”

  “I think we need to talk contract.”

  He pumped his fist in the air and tried to keep the excitement out of his voice. “Sounds great. I have a few ideas for a regular feature I think you might like. Like a monthly man’s opinion. What I thought I could do is—”

  “No, no, no. I already have an angle going.”

  Shit. Not what he wanted to hear. He’d had his own thoughts about a regular monthly article. But hell, if TMM was talking contract, he was listening. “What’s your angle?”

  “You and Lara McKenzie doing a monthly feature about opposing viewpoints on sexuality.”

  His excitement burst like an overfilled balloon. “Huh?”

  “I think it would be great. With her keen insights into female sexuality and your arrogant male perspective, you two could have a helluva hot argument every month. Kind of like two sides to the same coin. The readers will go apeshit over it.”

  The readers might, but Mark thought it was the worst damned idea he’d ever heard. “Look, Jonathan, there’s no way Lara McKenzie will agree to something like that.”

  He hoped. No, he knew it for a fact. It had been like pulling teeth just to get her to agree to the first interview. Even then it wasn’t like she was eagerly forthcoming with information.

  “Sure she will. Once you convince her. Think of the readership she’ll gain for her academic books.”

  “She won’t do it.”

  “She will, if you convince her.”

  “I’d have to lie to her, make something up, make this really appealing for her.”

  “Well, then make it appealing.”

  Right. And what would appeal to Dr. Lara McKenzie?