Page 148 of Wicked Fantasies

Assume the Positions

When Rachel’s friend suggests she have an affair with a younger man, Rachel is tempted, yet terrified. To control her growing angst, she makes a list of eligible men then…Nothing. It’s been too long and her divorce was too painful. She’ll never be able to do this.

Ethan, one of Rachel’s physical therapy patients, is annoyed when he learns of the challenge. Not because he finds it silly, but because he’s not on Rachel’s list! So he does what any self-assured young stud would do. The luscious police officer gives her a copy of the Kama Sutra then asks her to make a new list.

It’s time for Rachel to assume the positions. With him.

Chapter One

Rachel Bridges stared at the computer screen and sighed. She was generally a happy-go-lucky kind of girl, but lately she couldn’t fight back the brief spurts of depression that plagued her.

Since her friend Monica had issued that ridiculous dare—a cougar challenge, she called it—more than a few of her online pals had actually gone out and found themselves younger men. Crap, a couple of the girls had actually hooked up withtwoyounger men. Her friends were turning out to be fearless and adventurous, and Rachel couldn’t help but be envious as she read about their sexual liaisons on the Tempt the Cougar Facebook group they’d created together.

She’d met all but one of the women at a conference for steamy romance novel fans. In one weekend, she’d formed a tighter bond with these women than with any friends she’d made in all of her thirty-seven years. Besides their shared love of hot books, they’d really connected personally as they shared their struggles to cope with the harsh realities of getting older. They’d been a godsend for Rachel at a time when loneliness and her own mortality had begun kicking her in the ass on a daily basis.

She clicked on her contacts and pulled up Autumn’s name. Since buying a ranch on eBay and finding the hunkiest cowboy in Texas, her friend had been on the group less and less. Having too much great sex all the time was clearly cutting into Autumn’s computer time. Bitch.

Hey.

What’s up, buttercup?

My life sucks.

Rachel was aware she was whining, but she didn’t care. She was PMSing and the damn vending machine ate her last three quarters without giving her the Milky Way she wanted. Now her hip hurt from beating the machine and the stupid son of a bitch was still dangling there, taunting her from across the room.

Why?

I’m never going to be able to complete Monica’s challenge. There’s no way I can find a younger man to sleep with me. Hell, I can’t find an old man to have sex with.

She’d never been into the club scene and she basically sucked at flirting. In fact, the entire concept of using her feminine wiles to attract the opposite sex struck her as downright silly. The few times she’d gone out to bars, she’d spent the entire time laughing at the antics of other women as they attempted to hook up. Her bizarre sense of humor clearly overshadowed every girly personality trait she possessed.

Her mother viewed her lack of relationships differently, saying she was far too practical for her own good and teasing her good-naturedly about the fact there wasn’t a romantic bone in her whole body. There was probably a basis of truth in both theories.

Men would love to sleep with you. You’re pretty, successful, funny. Oh hell…where are you, sweetie?

Rachel stared around at the empty physical therapy office where she worked and grimaced.

Work.

That’s what I thought. Get the hell out of there. It’s Friday night. Get dolled up and hit a bar.

I can’t. I have a client coming in.

Dammit, Rach. You’re not even trying to find a guy. I hate to break it to you, but you aren’t going to find Mr. Right by hiding out at work all the time. You’ve got to get out there and take some chances.

I know, but hitting the pick-up scene again is just too damn depressing.

I really think this lack of confidence is your ex-husband’s fault. You’re letting him win.

Voldemort already won.

LMAO. He’d shit himself if he knew that’s how you referred to him.

Truth hurts. Besides, can you blame me for being trigger shy? My whole life has been one big fucking cliché. Worked my ass off to support the shithead so he could attend medical school then dump me.

He didn’t deserve you.

No, apparently he deserved his twenty-something blonde nurse. You do realize the only way I’m going to get the image of them screwing in our bed out of my mind is to scratch my eyes out.

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