Page 18 of Sex Coach

But my answer? Yes, he was yummy. It was in his voice, in the way he framed the air with his hands as he talked. It was also in his body language and the way he listened .

Yes, Jake King was yummy, and I doubted that would change even if I looked at him and found a man with average features looking back at me when I was finally able to see him .

Assuming he letme .

"Let me. Shoot. You know what, I think I'll make a stipulation of my own," I said to my reflection in the shower's plain white tile. "I'll tell him that his hiding in plain sight isn't necessary. I know how to protect my sources." Not that I'd ever had any. He didn't need to know that though .

We could meet, talk, get the interview out of the way and I could see him. Just see him .

Because I was too much a coward to do more .

Part of me wished that wasn't the case. These dreams that kept featuring him were enough to drive me crazy. I just wanted to see him – talk to him a little more .

"Quit lying to yourself," I mumbled, narrating my thoughts. "You want to know if he can really do what he talked about." I wanted to know what it was like to lie under a man and ...

My breathing hitched at the thought of lying under Jake .

The fantasy settled in, and since the dream had been interrupted earlier, I decided to just go with it. Reaching for the handheld nozzle, I adjusted the spray and directed it between my thighs .

Thank god for inventors of massaging showerheads and vibrators .

And my imagination .

I closed my eyes and imagined he was with me under the warm spray. He'd been the one to come to the door and tell me about the lovely news. I'd been pleased, but calm and casual, inviting him in. No telling how we'd ended up in the shower, I'd figure that out later .

But now, he was on his knees in front of me .

Not all women like oral sex, you know. But that's usually the fault of bad partners. I can tell you, every woman I've ever gone down on has loved it .

I had no doubt I'd be the same .

Feeling his tongue flick my clitoris before sliding lower to toy with the entrance of my body, his fingers sliding up the sensitive inner skin of my thighs .

He'd part my folds, then push inside me and I'd ride his hand, rocking against his mouth until I came. When I did, he'd catch me, holding me steady and secure –

I came with a harsh, hungry groan, my breath so ragged I could hear it over the pounding of the water .

Groaning, my head fell back against the tile wall .

"This is going to get out of hand," I muttered .

* * *

I t tooktwo cups of coffee and twenty solid minutes of the most sobering, unappealing thing I could think of before I was ready to talk to Jake .

I read the news .

All the hard stuff, the boring stuff, the gross stuff .

By the time I was off the phone, there was no way I wanted to think about anything remotely romantic, or even sexual – I avoided the news for a reason – and I felt confident that I could pick up that phone and make the call I needed to make without my voice going all sex-kitten on me .

The last thing I wanted to happen was for my voice to practically scream – or in my case, whisper – do me the second he came on the line .

He answered with a brisk, businesslike, "King here ."

The urge to quip, "The King of Multiple Orgasms?" leaped to my lips, and appalled at myself, I grabbed my coffee, about ready to drown myself with it. "Hi," I blurted out before taking a scalding swallow. Now my tongue hurt, my throat, my professionalism – but at least I hadn't blurted out anything about the big O to him .

"Yes," he said, drawing the word out .

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