Six Weeks to Sensuality

She looked good in his lair.

Marc propped his elbow on the battered rolltop desk and covered his smile with his hand. He knew better than to stretch and relax like a smug tiger. He had just started the hunt, and if Amy knew what he was thinking, she would bolt like frightened prey.

He supported his chin with his hand and studied his quarry. Amy sat primly on the tattered burgundy settee, erasing madly on the questionnaire.

She didn't exactly blend in, he decided as he cast a look around the turmeric-yellow room. The weakening sunlight seeped through the window. Fat leafy plants bumped against the vivid watercolors scattered across the walls and trailed down the glassed-in legal bookcases.

Marc had been acutely aware of every move Amy made since she stepped into his small office half an hour ago. They agreed to meet in the evening after everyone went home, but now they were alone in the building and Marc wished he had a distraction before he did something stupid.

Amy wasn't a disruptive force of nature, but she possessed a quiet power that drew him in. She held his attention while giving his office the peace he had tried hard to achieve in the eclectic design.     

Amy leaned back against the soft suede and glared at the survey. "Okay." She took a deep breath. "I'm done."

He reached for the pages that she offered. His fingers grazed hers. Every muscle in his body twanged like the soft sitar music in the background as his large fingers crimped the paper.

Marc drew away with great precision and studiously ignored the tension arcing over them. He swiped his eyeglasses off his desk and jammed them on his nose, hoping the wire rims wouldn’t bend under his grip.           

"Sit back and relax," he suggested to Amy, wondering if he could practice what he preached. He leaned back in his wooden office chair, which creaked incessantly. "Once I review this, we'll get started."

"Wait!" Her eyes bulged as her hand went up like a traffic cop. "You're going to go over that now? While I'm sitting here?"

"Yes." She looked stunned. Horrified. Any minute now she was going to curl up in a ball and hide. If she felt that way after answering questions, he didn't want to know how she was going to handle practical applications. "It will only take a moment," he promised.

She folded her arms across her chest and hunched her shoulders. "Don't you have a machine to take the score and spit out an analysis?"

"No." Why would she prefer a machine's opinion over his? He wondered about that as he scanned the questionnaire. Did she still feel that shy around him? He was determined that by the end of this sensuality project, she would find it no longer necessary to be wary of him.

She tapped her foot against the worn Persian carpet. "Nice office you have here. It's very … exotic."

He didn't glance up from the paper. "I spent a lot of time on the subcontinent researching polygamist marriages," he murmured as he skimmed through the biographical information that he already knew.

"Ah."

Her voice sounded faint to Marc as he reread the sensory section. Amy enjoyed public displays of affection and indulged in them often? Marc frowned at the box she checked. Since when? In the three years he had known her, he couldn't remember anyone touching her. And that included her ex-boyfriend.

Maybe she didn't know herself. He tugged off his eyeglasses and considered the possibility. Amy might think she indulged in public displays. Although how could someone make a mistake about that?

He glanced at her and watched the hectic color flush her cheeks. Her gaze skittered away. Amy nibbled the corner of her bottom lip.

Hmm... Marc bit the tip of his eyewear. Curious.

He flipped the page and reviewed the section designed to see how she chose her clothing through style, color and fabric. She checked the "bright eye-catching colors" box.

Marc blinked and read it again. He looked up and noted her gray T-shirt.

Uh-huh. Okay. He continued reading.

Fabric? Slinky

His forehead pleated into a deeper frown. Since when was durable cotton slinky?

Style? Body conscious.

His eyes flicked to the faded blue overalls that threatened to swallow her small form completely.

The only thing her body was conscious of was his suspicious looks. The pen she tapped at rapid speed was going to snap in half.

His annoyance blossomed as he scanned the remaining questions. "Interesting."

The pen stopped in midair. "It is?" Amy asked hesitantly.           

"Yes." His clipped tone muzzled his irritation. "I had no idea I had a budding nudist in my midst. According to this" – he gave the paper a crisp snap – "you sleep in the nude year round, skinny-dip if there is so much as a puddle in the vicinity and would rip off your shirt at the first sis boom bah."

Amy swallowed as her face grew pink. She opened her mouth and closed it again. "I, uh…" She shrugged. "I must have misunderstood the questions."

"Did you also misunderstand the food section? It says here," he read directly off the survey, "you frequently consume ice cream, cheese and chocolate for its thick, luscious texture."

"Yes." She gave a brisk nod. "What about it?"

His eyebrow rose a notch. "You and I both know that you are lactose intolerant."

Amy's eyelashes fluttered with surprise. "How did you know that?"

"When attendance is required at institute events, you learn a lot about your coworkers." Now was not the time to mention that he had noticed every little thing about her. "Explain this answer."

"What can I say?" She splayed her hands at her side, frantically looking around the room for inspiration. Her face relaxed as she came up with an answer. "One always wants what they can't have."

Marc straightened in his chair. She wasn't going to fess up, huh? He was going to have to play hardball. "Then can you explain your answers in the sexuality section? Particularly the question in which you were supposed to check the scenarios you've participated in."

Her blush darkened. "I don't remember it offhand."

He looked at the questionnaire. "Some of the choices were anal, bondage, domination, exhibitionism, female-female sex, foot worship, male-male sex, leather, oral, orgy, solo, submission, tickling, threesomes, voyeurism and water sports."           

"Mm-hmm?" The tips of her ears were beet-red.

He held out the paper and pointed at her answer. "You checked 'all of the above'"

Amy's complexion turned scarlet but she said nothing. Her eye contact wavered. Her need to break away was almost tangible.

"I'm trying to figure this out," Marc said in a slow, gentle voice, "so maybe you can explain it to me. How did you manage the male-male sex?"

Her pause clung endlessly. "I checked the wrong box."

"You think?"

She winced at his biting tone. "Can I have a do-over?"

End of excerpt. Like it? Order it.

Read the excerpt to Code Pink
Read the excerpt to Fantasies Are Forever

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The excerpt on this website is an expanded version of my entry that finaled in the 2003 Lori Foster Brava Novella contest.

Do you know how hard it is to come up with a sorority name? Very! It feels like every combination of the Greek alphabet has been used. Since I didn't want to use any names of an existing sorority (or fraternity, for that matter), it took some time to come up with Delta Delta Alpha. And if that combination has been used – I don't want to know about it!

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