On their second date arranged by the dating service, Garrett couldn't eat his dessert. He was only conscious of the Pacific Ocean breeze blowing strands of streaked blonde across Elena's face. He leaned across the table and ran his fingers through her silken tresses. Her pink-painted lips parted as he slid his thumb across her bottom lip.

He couldn't resist her, and he realized that if he sat there a moment longer, he'd want to lie on the blanket with her and then--

"Elena, do you want to go for a swim?" he suggested, hoping the ocean water would cool down his body.

"Sounds great," she said, grabbing her bag and taking out a towel.

Wearing his swim trunks under his clothes, he removed his pants and shirt. The ocean sea breeze hit his bare chest and legs like a rush of air conditioning. His gaze became suddenly riveted to Elena as she began to undress.

She unzipped her skirt, and the fabric fell to the blanket. His eyes lowered to the skimpy royal blue bikini barely concealing her bottom. Her long, shapely, bare legs winked out at him, almost asking to be stroked.

He felt like he was in her bedroom, and she was taking off her clothes to go to bed with him.

He took a deep breath of sea air, trying to disengage his sensual fantasy. But then she peeled off her blouse. Her ample breasts overflowed from the top of her bikini. As she turned and bent over to put her clothes away, his gaze caught the faint strip of fabric between her legs concealing her femininity.

"Elena, I'll race you to the water!" he choked out, unable to handle his desire for her another second.

In the next instant, she dashed ahead of him toward the expansive sea which was glowing with the rays of the silver moon.

"Slow poke!" she called out, laughing.

"Oh, yeah?" he responded.

He chased after her, and his feet splashed against the cold evening ocean. "The water's freezing!" she squealed as she dove into a wave to get away from him.

He jumped into the swell after her. When he surfaced, he grabbed her around the waist and spun her around to face him.

"I got you," he said, laughing.

"That's because I let you!" she teased back.

Her golden hair was dripping. Her eyes were sparkling. Her wet bikini top was pasted against her heaving breasts. He could see her nipples protruding against the soaked fabric.

Garrett couldn't hold back. He drew her pulsating body to him. His mouth hungrily found hers. The salty water mingled with his kiss.

© 1998 Patty Salier

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"Becky, I got your letter," Jarrid said.

"My letter?" she asked, confused.

Becky's thoughts suddenly went into a frenzy. A letter? She didn't send-- Then she remembered her blinking answering machine. It had to be Pam. Her twin sister had said she was going to help her be more assertive with Jarrid. Had her twin sent a special delivery letter to Jarrid on her behalf?

Becky nervously fidgeted with her jingling car keys. "My letter, yes, of course. So what'd you think?"

"I don't know what to think, Becky," Jarrid said. "Your letter took me by surprise."

Her stomach was grinding. What did Pam put in that letter? "Did anything I say bother you?"

Jarrid held the envelope in his hand. "It's the way you said it."

The keys dug into her palm. "Exactly what way was that?"

Jarrid looked a bit surprised. "You want me to read it out loud?"

She swallowed and lifted her chin. "I'm not ashamed of what I wrote."

Becky held her breath as Jarrid pulled out her twin sister's letter from the envelope, dreading to hear the contents.

He cleared his throat. "When I lie in bed at night, I fantasize about being in your arms." He glanced up at her. "Do you want me to go on?"

Her legs suddenly felt weak, and she leaned against the stucco building for balance.

"Sure, why wouldn't I?" She was going to strangle her sister.

Jarrid read on, "I think about your lips against mine. I think about your hands caressing my body all over. I need you, Jarrid. I need you so much." He slowly slipped the letter back into the envelope. "Do you really mean that, Becky?"

She tried to catch her breath. "W--why else would I have written it?"

Jarrid's eyes searched hers. "Are you sure you want to start something between us again?"

"Yes. I'm very sure, Jarrid." She could see the doubt in his eyes. Doubt she knew she had to wipe away for her twin. "I'll be right here for you, Jarrid, no matter how long it takes for you to trust me again."

© 1998 Patty Salier

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Paul noticed that Mr. Harrington's private office door was closed. Mr. Harrington had told him many times to just walk in without knocking when he came by on a Saturday.

He wiped his perspiring hands on his shorts, turned the doorknob, and barrelled into the office.

"Mr. Harrington--" Paul's words caught in his throat.

Standing in front of him was a shapely female holding up her skirt with one hand and pantyhose in the other. His gaze landed on her tanned bare legs and pink bikini panties.

"What are you doing in here?" Danielle shrieked. She quickly yanked down her skirt. Her cheeks turned blood red with embarrassment.

Paul leaned against the door unable to take his eyes off her. Her black hair flowed down her shoulders like silk. "Exactly what are you doing in here?" he asked, glancing at the nylon hose in her hand.

She immediately stuck the pantyhose into her briefcase. "I--I have some work on the computer that I need to show Mr. Harrington when he returns," she stammered. "So if you will please leave."

"Leave?" Paul repeated, incredulously. "I'm here to see Mr. Harrington, too."

"You can wait outside."

"Are you throwing me out?"

She stared at him with bold turquoise eyes. "Listen, Mr. Whoever you are, if you don't get out of here in three seconds, I'll--I'll--" He was definitely intrigued. "You'll what?"

"I don't know, but I'll do something!"

Paul smiled. "I'm open to all possibilities."

"You're--you're impossible!"

© 1997 Patty Salier

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"Zane, I believe you neglected to show me your bedroom," Rachel began. The university sex questionnaire required it. But it was the room she most dreaded entering. The suggestive chamber that would surely tempt her wildest fantasies.

She lifted her chin determined to be strong and not emotionally vulnerable again.

That is, until she hit Zane's luxurious master suite. Her gaze settled on the exotic circular bed. The raven-black satin comforter and creamy vanilla pillows winked at her in greeting.

Zane rubbed a large palm across the softness of the glossy bedspread.

"Cool, huh?" he offered. "What does the bedroom decor say about me?"

"That you've got an excellent interior decorator."

"That's all?" he asked, disappointed.

No, it wasn't all. She envisioned herself tumbling nude with Zane in all that milky, silky satin.

She fought her fantasies and fumbled in her briefcase for her pad and pencil.

"Why did you choose a round bed?" she managed to ask as she steadied her quivering fingers to fill out the sex test she was conducting.

Zane sat on the bed and patted the spot beside him beckoning her to him.

"Why don't you find out for yourself?" he suggested in a velvet murmur.

"I'd rather hear your thoughts on it," she stated in her professorial voice. "I may interpret your bedroom accoutrements quite differently from the actual reason you purchased them. After all, what is sexy is purely subjective, isn't it?"

"You tell me. You're the lovemaking expert."

His intense gaze caught and held hers. She was super aware of being alone with him in his bedroom. Super aware of the closeness she felt toward him. Super aware of his circular satiny bed and wanting to make love with him.

Zane arose from the bed and approached her. "Are you afraid of me, Rachel?"

"Why should I be?" She struggled to ignore the charged currents shooting from his body to hers.

© 1996 Patty Salier

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