Friendly Persuasion

Ross choked on his beer, set it down hard. “You’re kidding, right?” He laughed.

“It was Tina’s idea,” she said, wounded that he found it so hilarious. “She thought I should sleep with someone completely unsuitable, and of course you were the first person we thought of.”

“Ouch,” he said, wincing in pretend pain. “That’s not very nice.” He studied her, then seemed to sense her hurt. “It would be weird. We’re friends.”

“I know,” she said. “I feel the same way.” Except for the electric jolts she’d been getting since he sat down.

Being around Ross was so much fun, it made up for any bruise to her feminine ego his treating her like a buddy had given her. She loved watching a new idea hit him—like a pinball striking every bell and bar, making him light up and zing. And whenever she got upset about a client, she went straight to him and he’d have her blowing off steam playing darts or Nerf basketball or running up and down the fire escape singing Queen songs.

“I wouldn’t want to mess up our friendship,” Ross said.

“Right. And sex messes things up.”

“Not always,” he said. “It can be absolutely simple and carnal.” He gave her that look.

She faltered. “But we’d make a terrible couple. We’re opposites.”

“They say opposites attract.” Was he just teasing? “But there’s sexual incompatibility to consider, of course.”

“Wait a minute. Am I being insulted here?”

“Not at all.” He grinned. “You’re fine. We’re just different. You’re sort of buttoned up and pressed down. And I’m, well, never buttoned.”

“That’s because you’re always in a T-shirt. And I’m not always buttoned up.”

“Oh, yeah?” He gave her a mischievous look. “Twenty bucks says you’re wearing granny panties.”

To her chagrin, she remembered she did indeed have on her stretched-out elastic, full-size cotton undies today. “That’s not fair. All my fancy ones happen to be in the laundry right now.”

“My point exactly. My women don’t wear panties—fancy or otherwise.”

The thought of Ross contemplating her decidedly unsexy underwear mortified her, so she teased back. “Besides, I would never sleep with someone with so many notches on his headboard it probably looks like a saw blade.”

“Oh, no. The notches are from the handcuffs.”

She blushed again. Ross was definitely out of her sexual league, but he’d aroused her competitive instincts. Along with some others she’d rather not name. “Maybe you’ve underestimated me. I might be a maniac in bed. You never know about the librarian types.” Was she trying to talk him into this?

“I wouldn’t want to risk breaking your heart,” he teased.

“Get over yourself. I fall in love with likely prospects. And you’re the least likely prospect I know.”

“But I may have unplumbed depths.”

“That’s not the kind of plumbing I’m interested in, baby,” she said, affecting a sexy tone that came off stiffly.

“You’re trying too hard.”

She sighed. She hated that she wasn’t free and easy about sex.

“You always try too hard. That’s why I’m good for you. I help you ease up on yourself—and everybody else.”

“Well, you don’t try hard enough,” she argued. “If it wasn’t for me, you’d have—”

“Lost my job through tardiness alone, I know. We’re good for each other.” He saluted her with his ale.

“Yeah.”

“Just not sexually.”

“Right.” Another twinge of disappointment. “Besides, there’s no way I could do it,” she said. “Kissing you would be like, I don’t know, kissing…my brother.”

“You think so?” he said and then, with no warning whatsoever, he leaned forward and kissed her.

A jolt shot straight to her toes and back again, making everything in between tingle. Oh…my…God. She started to tremble and was afraid she might faint.

Ross broke off the kiss. “I know for a fact you don’t have a brother, but if you did, would he kiss like that?”

“I—I’m not sure.” Their eyes locked.

Then Ross smacked his lips. “Mmm, strawberry lip gloss.”

That killed the mood. To Ross, that had been just a kiss.

“Decent technique,” she said, covering for how overwhelmed she felt.

“Decent?” He lifted a brow. “Give me another chance. Maybe I was nervous.” He leaned in, beckoning with a crooked finger.

She shook her head. “You made your point.” Even as she said no, her entire body wailed for more. “The main thing is that we’re friends and we have to protect that. I’ll find some other unsuitable man to not fall in love with.”

He looked at her, his eyes full of wicked mischief. If anyone could teach her how to have fun with sex, Ross could.

Uh-uh. No matter what Ross said, sex made things complicated. Ross was her friend and that was better than sex any day—even sex with him. Besides, if one kiss could turn her into a quivery mass of need, just think what the whole experience would do. She might never be the same.

2

ROSS HAD ANOTHER black and tan after Kara left, but it didn’t wash away the strawberry kiss that had coated his mouth and lips with sweet promise. He tasted it all the way back to his apartment.

She’d actually quivered when he’d kissed her. Quivered. What responsiveness. Those crisp designer suits were wrapped around one sensuous woman.

He’d had thoughts about Kara when she’d first marched her serious little butt in the door at S&S, but she’d been so intent and dogged—and repressed—that he didn’t pursue her. Before long he’d gotten to know her and found her warm and open and funny and smart and they’d become friends. And friendship was a way bigger deal than sex.

He’d seen she was the type who put her heart on the line. And he’d never allow himself to hurt her. He couldn’t put pain in those eager, vulnerable eyes.

But Tina thought he could teach Kara how to separate lust from love…. Interesting. Could he? When he thought about that strawberry kiss, it seemed worth a try. On a purely physical level. Simple sex might be just what Kara needed. Could she keep it simple, though? Seemed unlikely. She was an intense woman. He, on the other hand, had simple sex down to a science.

Ever since college. Ever since Beth. That was when he’d learned it wasn’t a good idea to get attached. People changed. Or, more importantly, he changed. Beth had wanted someone stable and dependable. He’d tried to be that—taking the job her dad had lined up for him at a big graphics studio. But the work had been mere production—the replication of someone else’s creativity. He hated the daily routine, the repetitiveness, the tedium. He’d felt trapped. Then he’d started to get bored with Beth. He’d fought it, tried to hide it, but eventually all he saw was her anxious face, pale as pearlescent ink. What’s wrong, Ross? Is it me? What am I doing wrong?

It’s not you, it’s me. It’s me, really. A tired excuse, but, in his case, so true. He was a restless guy. He’d been young at the time and didn’t know himself well. Now he knew to stay away from women whose hearts he could break. Serious women looking for The One. Women like Kara.