And heat. Lots and lots of heat.
She’d been generous, too, and kind. Like tonight when she’d bought his book and stood in line for him to sign it—a gracious gesture he’d been too dazed to duplicate. Book-signings and their attendant rituals were a new and mortifying experience.
Kathleen sighed a rich sigh and wiggled into the seat, as if to get comfortable, then turned her head on the headrest and looked at him. “I love fabric seats, don’t you? I have black velvet in my car. Pimpish, I know, but it feels so good against bare skin.”
Bare. He didn’t want to think of that word around Kathleen, let alone hear it come out of her silky lips. Her wiggling around had shifted her skirt up a bit. Nothing obvious and she was clearly unaware of it. He wondered if she was wearing panties.
Ouch. “I never really thought of it that way.” The over-warm car seethed with her perfume. He watched her pulse throb softly in her neck, wanted to press his lips there, taste her skin with his tongue. “Stuffy in here,” he mumbled and rolled down his window.
Rhonda barreled into the front seat beside the driver, slammed her door and looked at them over the seat. “That was fabulous. Great turnout. You two were a hit. Everyone was there.” She rattled off the news outlets in attendance, practically bouncing in her seat.
“Sounds good,” Dan said. He was used to speaking at small workshops, so he’d been rigid with tension at the crowd.
“We sold tons of books,” Kathleen said. “Good job, Rhonda.”
“Thank you, Kathleen. You were a joy to work with.” Rhonda beamed at her. “You, too, Dan. Absolutely.” She cleared her throat. He’d been tongue-tied and sluggish, he knew.
Kathleen had gleamed like a jewel as she bantered with reporters and with him when they were formally announced and invited to speak. She’d been lively and engaging and he’d been awed by her performance.
My advice is to buy both our books and decide which makes you feel better, she’d said. Of course, my books come with a coupon for a sample of imported chocolates. She’d turned to him then. I don’t suppose you supply any coupons, Dan? That would be too indulgent, correct? She’d offered him a bonbon, eyes twinkling with mischief and delight.
He’d declined, awkward as a kid at his first dance…which pretty much nailed his whole performance. He’d sold far more books than Kathleen—hers had been out for a while, after all—but she’d ruled the event, start to finish. Somehow, that seemed right.
“You need to loosen up, Dan,” she said to him now. “Next time, take the chocolate I offer you and say something about falling off the wagon.” She leaned into his shoulder, then pulled away. The tiny moment of pressure lingered on his skin. He was such a fool.
“If you’d like, I can do some prep with you, Dan,” Rhonda said. “Some Q and A rehearsal for media? If that would help?”
“Sure. That would be fine,” he said, though he instantly had second thoughts, knowing Rhonda’s penchant for chatter.
“So, Dan, can I ask you a question?” Rhonda said.
“Sure.” He was grateful for the distraction from the claustrophobia he felt sitting so near Kathleen.
“In your book, there’s a self-control checklist. What if a person scores high except when they’re in a relationship? What would you say to that person?”
“I’d say that’s good self-awareness,” he said, glancing at Kathleen, who wore a half smile. Make it good, Dan.
“The person would need to determine whether the immoderation came from within—fear or insecurity—or without—the partner’s behavior or attitude.”
“Oh, yeah. Use that Insecurity Meter in your book?”
“Yes. But if the immoderation is external, a discussion would be needed with the partner, who’d have to change.”
“But what if the, um, partner, won’t change?”
“Some relationships are emotional landmines and must be sidestepped.”
“Oh.” Rhonda was not happy with the answer. No one ever was. Love was the biggest danger zone for most of his clients.
“Or,” Kathleen said sharply, “you could go with your feelings, Rhonda, and not catastrophize. Worrying doesn’t fix tomorrow’s problems. It only zaps today’s joy. The point of life is to live it. And where can you feel more alive than in the arms of someone you love?”
“Good point,” Rhonda said with a heavy sigh.
I feel alive in your arms. Kathleen had used those exact words on the afternoon he realized he was losing control of his life. He’d blown off an important meeting with his advisor, frantic to see Kathleen, waited for her to emerge from a news-writing class, then pulled her into a nearby soda-machine alcove and kissed her until he was blind with the need to be inside her.
I love when you want me so much, she’d said, tugging him with her into the narrow space between the machine and the side wall, where anyone close enough to buy a Coke would hear, if not see, them. The machine had been new, the space clean—perfect for two people desperate to make love now—and when she’d unzipped him and offered her warmth, he’d slipped inside before he knew it, helpless with lust and lost to her. He’d gripped her thighs as she rode him, her eyes flashing with need and demand, and they’d both moaned with pleasure.
Footsteps approached, but she held on. We’re almost there.
He’d lunged into her faster, as hard as she could take, caring only about her sounds, her needs, her climax and his release. They’d shuddered to an orgasm seconds before the person dropped coins into the slot. They’d grinned at each other, listening to the tinkle of quarters, the clunk of the soda, the snap and fizz of the can being opened, then feet shuffling away.
I love you like this, Dan, she’d said, while they leaned against the warm machine catching their breath. I love that you lose control with me. Her eyes were tender and he’d let that be enough. He’d refused to see that he’d lost all sense, narrowed his life to Kathleen alone.
Abruptly, Rhonda thrust her arm over the seat between them. “Will one of you please pinch me?”
“Excuse me?” Dan said.
“So I know this isn’t a dream. I can’t believe I get to hear your ideas up close and personal.”
“This isn’t a dream,” Dan said. This was real, all right. Too real. Kathleen was really beside him, her heat and scent and voice and body all he could think about.
Kathleen, on the other hand, seemed completely self-possessed tonight. Last night she’d been nervous. That didn’t surprise him. She’d been far less bulldozed by their affair than he. Too restless to stay with anything long, she would have ended it soon, if he hadn’t acted when he did.
Right now, he wished he could end this tour, fly home to Vermont for some peace and quiet on the lake, take whatever professional fallout came of it. Just get away from her.
He was a man of his word, though, and he could surely master this. If he couldn’t, what did that say about his theory that practice and focus could conquer extreme appetites?
When the driver stopped in the hotel portico, Rhonda suggested a nightcap, but they both declined.
“Oh.” Rhonda’s smile dimmed for an instant, then clicked back into high beam. “No problem. We’ll have lots of drinks over the next ten days. I have such a good feeling about this tour.”
“It’ll be great,” Kathleen said, sounding as weary as he felt.
He climbed out of the