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  before looking back at me. "I'm glad you liked it."

  "It's a classic. What's not to like?"

  Eric shrugged and leaned back against the couch, one arm

  stretched out along the back. His fingers could have

  touched my shoulder if he'd stretched half an inch more.

  Neither of us moved.

  "Some of the women I've known…most of them, actualy,

  don't get Monty Python. Don't like it." He shook his head.

  "So when you said you loved it, I wasn't sure you meant

  it."

  I studied him. Many things had brought us to this point.

  Too many to discount as coincidence or chance. There

  was a reason I was here, I believed it in my gut.

  "You thought maybe I was lying?" I didn't ease myself

  closer to him, but I turned my body in his direction. "Why

  would I do that?"

  He laughed, self-conscious, and scrubbed the back of his

  head with a hand. "I'm not saying you're lying, no. Just that

  maybe you were—"

  "Lying." I laughed. "To impress you, maybe?"

  Eric ducked his head but shot me a glance. "Something

  like that. I don't know."

  Today you will know you are strong and beautiful.

  Advice meant for him, but I'd taken it, too. The difference

  was, I knew something of what he'd been doing and living

  the past few weeks, and he had no clue about me.

  There was such power in that.

  "You have an awfuly high opinion of yourself, Eric." My

  "You have an awfuly high opinion of yourself, Eric." My

  voice came out different. Lower and sultry. It was the

  voice of a woman who had never believed she was

  anything but strong and beautiful, and I saw how he heard

  it.

  He sat up straighter. It was subtle, but I noticed. "You're

  right. I shouldn't have assumed."

  I wasn't sure what I saw in Eric's eyes, only that I wasn't

  ready for it. I made it different with a laugh and a pat to his

  arm. "It's okay. I'm just teasing you."

  "Right." He laughed, too, but I glimpsed something like

  disappointment on his face, so brief I couldn't be sure it

  had been there.

  I made a show of looking at the clock and getting up. "This

  was great, but it realy is getting late."

  He was up, too, seconds after me. "Right. Yes."

  He walked me to the door, al prim-and-proper-like, and

  there I stopped and turned to face him. "Thanks for inviting

  me."

  Now would have been a good time to kiss me, but he

  Now would have been a good time to kiss me, but he

  didn't do it. I didn't lean to kiss him, either, though I could

  have. I wanted to. I didn't believe for one second he'd turn

  me down. And I didn't choke, either, dithering at the last

  second about what he might think of me or whether he'd

  cal me the next day if I gave it up to him tonight.

  I didn't kiss him because I had the power to decide which

  way this went. Hours before I'd lain on my bed and

  touched myself, thinking it might be his hands. I thought of

  doing that now, when I went upstairs. How I'd undress

  myself and make myself come pretending it was his fingers

  and mouth on my tits and clit, my cunt and ass. Or maybe

  I'd think of Austin.

  Hel, maybe I'd think of Brad Pitt.

  I didn't kiss Eric because he was waiting for me to do it. I

  saw it in his eyes and the part of his lips, the cock of his

  hip as he leaned against the doorway with one hand up

  high and the other hooked in his belt loop. He wanted me

  to kiss him, but I knew about him what he didn't know

  about me.

  I knew he wanted to be told what to do.

  "Good night, Eric," I said.

  And I didn't give him what he wanted.

  Chapter 19

  There was an actual voice-mail message waiting for me on

  my cel when I got home.

  "Paige. It's me. I'm bored. Why don't you come over? Cal

  me."

  The cal had come in only ten minutes ago, and I wasn't

  sure if I wanted to laugh or curse at Austin. It was after

  10:00 p.m. on a work night.

  "Your booty-cal skils need improving," I said before he

  could do more than say helo.

  "I knew you'd cal."

  "You know shit, Austin."

  "What were you doing?" He sounded sleepy, and I hoped

  I'd woken him.

  "I was on a date." It was only half a lie. It hadn't been an official date, but it had been with another man. It would

  infuriate him to hear it. He didn't have to know we hadn't

  even kissed.

  even kissed.

  "Couldn't have been a very good date if you're home

  already."

  He had a point. "How do you know I'm home? Maybe I'm

  just only now answering my phone."

  "Couldn't be a very good date if you're talking to me."

  He had another point, but I wasn't going to concede it.

  "Why do you want me to come over? It's late."

  "Is it?" He yawned. "I hadn't noticed. Anyway, you're stil awake. And I'm up. Come over."

  "I'm not coming over."

  "You're not hanging up, either."

  I gave him enough silence to make him think otherwise, but

  damn him, Austin knew me too wel. He'd discovered

  patience, it seemed, whereas I'd lost mine. "If you were

  realy that interested, you should've caled me before now."

  "I was giving you your space."

  Phone clamped to my ear, I was halfway to my bedroom

  when his words brought me up short. He sounded sincere,

  and it kiled me that without being able to read his face, I

  couldn't tel if he was putting me on. "How very Lifetime

  Channel of you."

  "What are you wearing?"

  "How very Playboy Channel," I said, and my breath

  hitched.

  By the time I reached my bed I was already unbuttoning

  my jeans. When I lay back I cradled the phone against my

  shoulder to slide the denim over my hips. My panties came

  down, too, and I kicked them off. The comforter was

  chily under my skin at first, but warmed quickly. I roled,

  reaching for my nightstand drawer, and stopped with my

  hand on the knob.

  "Are you naked? Tel me you're naked."

  I found the smal bottle of lube and my bulet vibrator, not

  the one that could land aircraft. I sat on the edge of the

  bed to pul them from the drawer, and I stared down at the

  evidence of what I meant to do in my palm before I

  evidence of what I meant to do in my palm before I

  answered. "I'm not naked."

  "Liar." Austin's low laugh perked my nipples and parted

  my legs.

  "I have a shirt on."

  "I'm hard, Paige. And I'm naked."

  I closed my eyes to see him better. "What makes you think

  I care?"

  This stumped him for a second. In the past I'd been al

  about the phone sex. Sometimes we'd fucked more often

  on the phone than with our bodies. Before he could

  answer, I said, "Are you jerking your cock, Austin?"

  "Y-yeah."

  "Wel. I want you to stop."

  "Aw, Paige—"

  "You can't just cal me up and expect me to run right over

&nbs