Wine, Tarts & Sex

“Shelly always thinks everything’s about a man. It may be for her-she’s been dating a lot since her divorce-but it’s not for me.” Liv flashed Jake a rueful smile. “Present company excepted. You turn me on. What can I say?”

“Lucky me.” Apparently darling Livvi’s criteria tonight was just basic cock. Not that he took issue.

“Lucky us, I hope,” she murmured with a sidelong glance.

He grinned. “Are you going to be demanding?”

“Does it matter?”

“Fuck no.”

“I didn’t think it would.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means your reputation precedes you.” She smiled. “I know friends of friends of friends. Women always talk.” Like he was hung and knew how to use it. As for the National Enquirer story, she highly doubted it after feeling the size of his dick.

“I’m at a disadvantage. I haven’t heard anything about you.”

“There’s nothing to hear. I lead a simple life.”

“You haven’t always.”

“Yes, I have.”

“Even in the L.A. scene?”

“Even then. I’m careful in my friendships.”

“Like now?”

“Usually-I’m careful in my friendships.” That at least was true. “I must have been working too hard. And suddenly, you were here reminding me to take some time to play.” Lies, lies, lies; she hadn’t planned on touching Jake Chambers with a ten-foot pole.

“I can’t think of anyone I’d rather play with,” he said with a grin. “After you.” He nodded at the stairs. “I’m living mostly out of my suitcase; forgive the mess.”

She almost said: The mood I’m in, it doesn’t matter. But, opting for something less revealing, she said instead, “Not a problem.”

Six

Following her up the stairs, Jake took note of the flash of crimson soles on her spiky heels- Louboutin’s trademark. “Sexy shoes,” he said.

“They’re my fuck-me shoes.”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

She swiveled around enough to give him a grin. “I could say it’s just an expression, but under the circumstances, you might not buy it.”

“Sure I would.” He knew how to be polite.

“Let’s just say it’s part of the karma. I don’t feel like explaining. ” What could she have said, anyway? I don’t often do things like this. Like he was going to believe that.

“Karma-whatever…” He didn’t need an explanation or a road map to anywhere. Darling Livvi was one hot number, from her fuck-me shoes to her no-nonsense take on sex, and whether it was karma or good old luck, he was going with it, no questions asked.

Was there a note of equivocation in his whatever? Stopping on the step above him, Liv turned around. “Are you sure about this?”

“Unless you’re going to tell me you’re a man,” he said with a grin, “I’m sure.”

She smiled. “I thought I might have been too direct.”

“No way. Everything’s good. Lead on.”

Male certainty, she thought, resuming her ascent. Not that she was surprised. Nor would she have had even a moment of equivocation if any of this was even remotely normal.

Au contraire.

Her hots for Jake Chambers was unusual. She’d never been instantly turned on by a man-and she’d seen more than her share of handsome men on her world travels.

Although trying to figure out why this was happening wasn’t in the cards right now. Her carnal impulses were in charge.

And whether cause or effect was driving her, the goal was the same.

“Holy shit.” Arrested at the top of the stairs, she stared at a very large four-poster bed, its provenance India, if the voluptuous female nudes that figured as bedposts were any indication. The piece of furniture was set center stage in a large room that otherwise appeared to be a living room. “Some of Chaz’s usual subtlety, I see.” She shot a glance at Jake, who had come up beside her.

“You got that right,” Jake said, drily. “Is it too much? We could go somewhere else.” He liked that she hadn’t seen it before, her surprise obvious. That it mattered that she hadn’t seen it before, he chose not to consider.

She glanced at her watch, thinking, could she wait if they went somewhere else? Easy answer: no. Then her friends were waiting, too, so time was a factor.

“Are you on a tight schedule?”

“No,” she lied. “Sorry.” Although why was she even worrying about Shelly et al. at a time like this? Her mother’s courtesy-to-others mantra drilled into her in childhood was to blame.

“So-do you wanna go somewhere else?”

Back in the real, more selfish world, her gaze flicked down to his crotch, then up again. “I vote to stay here.” She smiled. “How’s that?”

He would have been happy fucking her on the dining room table downstairs, but ever courteous, he said, “I second the vote. Come on.” He took her hand. “Let’s see if this Kama Sutra bed has any good vibes.”

The magenta satin duvet cover and pillow shams had the same over-the-top bawdiness as the bed, the fabric not only embroidered in gold but befringed and betasseled with reckless abandon.

“I feel as though I should charge you,” Liv teased as they reached the bed. “Is this from a bordello, or is it some decorator ’s idea of camp?”

“Let’s hope it’s camp. Although in my current lustful mood, I want you to know, money’s no object.”

“Cute.” She smiled. “Not that I wouldn’t be willing to open my checkbook at the moment if I had to.” She glanced at his erection. “For that.”

They were both experienced enough and past gorgeous enough to know that neither of them had ever had to pay for anything when it came to sex. They didn’t belabor the point.

“Sit down.” He kicked off his sandals. “Let me help you with your shoes-and don’t look at me like that. I don’t have a fetish. I’m just being polite.”

“In that case”-Liv smiled as she sat on the shockingly pink satin-“I’d be delighted.”

“Louboutin has the sexiest shoes on the market.” Kneeling at her feet, unbuckling one black ankle strap, he glanced up and winked. “Merely an objective observation. I won’t ask to lick your toes.”

She laughed. “I’m relieved. As for Louboutin, the man knows women. I have a closet full of his shoes; they make me feel good.” Like the touch of your hands, Liv thought, her senses on full alert, superheightened, as if she’d inhaled an aphrodisiac, and the love potion was kicking in big time.

Any talk of feeling good definitely struck a chord, although Jake’s feel-good senses had nothing to do with shoes or Christian Louboutin’s expertise in interpreting female psyches. He didn’t even believe in karma, although an experience like this could make him a convert. It wasn’t every day a sexy woman like Liv Bell walked into his kitchen. He’d give fate a nod on this one.

And maybe an obeisance or two as well.

Or ten or twenty, he decided, deeply appreciative of the scene unfolding before his eyes.

Once sans shoes, Liv had tumbled back onto the bed and was in the process of stripping off her lacy panties,