Amazon Goodreads
Chapter One
Carla
“Casual Sex,” I say, twisting the phrase so it sounds
like a bad thing. “There. I said it.” I look across the table and meet my best
friend’s dark, knowing gaze. “Happy now?” Unable to hold her penetrating stare
any longer, I reach for my tepid chai latte, grateful it’s tasty even cold.
“I know you think I’m being a shrewish bitch, Carla. But
it’s for your own good.” Heather picks up her favorite vanilla cappuccino and
takes a drink.
“And why is that, exactly?” Regret gnaws at my stomach. Why
did I let myself get dragged into this conversation during my lunch hour?
“Sure, you found your great ‘one-and-only’ guy, but I don’t think that’s going
to happen with me.”
Heather ignores me and taps her finger on the small sheet of
paper on the table between us. “Next one.”
Geez, this feels like a one-woman intervention, and despite
the jokes I could make over that realization, I’m really not enjoying
it. The pleading on her compassionate face has me glancing at the slip of paper
once more. “Friends with Benefits. Oh, come on, that too? I kind of like
that one. Makes it much easier to stay friends when the guy winds up being
dumb, but not bad in bed.”
Heather’s mouth sets in a firm line and I plow ahead to the
last item on her unhelpful “list” of what she sees as my love life faults. “Avoidance
of Intimacy. Seriously? You think I do all this crap?” A knot of anxiety
sits in my throat. “I’m not a fun-loving chick all the time, you know. I have
been searching for the right guy.” The right guy who’s perfect in the sack and
magically disappears before dawn. “Just haven’t found him yet.”
“Really?” she counters, showing a touch of backbone my
once-shy friend didn’t have a month ago. “And none of them were worthy
of your time after you slept with them, huh?”
A grimace twists my face and I try to smooth my features.
“It’s not like that—I swear.” Secretly I fear it’s exactly like that.
And what the hell does that say about me? That I’m a slut? I’m not. I like sex
but I don’t sleep with just anyone like her darned unasked for list of faults
implies. “They weren’t good matches for me.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.”
“Why are we discussing this…,” I gesture to the paper
between us, “list of yours? I’m a careful woman. I always make sure they
use a condom. My instincts are good. I’ve never been in a situation I couldn’t
handle. What happened to make you think I needed—no wanted—your input in
my love life?”
Heather’s strength deflates and I feel like I’ve kicked a
puppy. “It’s because I care about you, Carla, and want to see you happy. You
keep up with this casual approach to relationships and you’re going to be alone
for the rest of your life.”
A snort erupts from me. “Like that’s a bad thing? I’m not
afraid of being alone. In fact, I’m quite all right with it.” I resist the
urge, just barely, to throw her words from a few weeks ago in her face. She
was the one afraid of winding up alone and eating microwave meals-for-one her
whole life. Not me. Never me.
My goal has always been to find an exciting, independent
man—one who’s a great lover and wants nothing emotional from me in
return. I gaze out the window of our favorite coffee shop, staring at the
pelting rain washing the city streets. Maybe my relaxed attitude would be
better suited in Europe. Seems like the Puritanical ideals of America are still
going strong, no matter how much women struggle with equality. If I were a guy
no one would bat an eye at my desire for a lover with no emotional attachments
weighing us down.
An exciting man who’s good in bed. That’s not too much to
ask is it? We’re in “the city that never sleeps” for crying out loud. There’s
got to be a few guys who learned something in the sack since college,
right? Maybe I can find one who isn’t emotionally scarred from a long-term
relationship and where the woman taught him a thing or two. That would
be hitting the relationship lottery in my book.
Don’t forget good looking, great body, successful career, a
big dick…
Yeah, a girl can dream, right?
Aware I need to get back to work, I glance at my watch then
gather the remains of my meal. We say our goodbyes and I race into the rain,
pulling up the hood on my stylish raincoat for the three-block trek to the
office.
Heather likes to forget—I’m not like her. I’ve always known
what I want in my life and in my bed. She and Tony met at the exact time
she was ready to blossom. My sexuality bloomed a long time ago and I quickly
became disappointed with the unknowledgeable lovers I invited into my bed.
Hell, when the first few trysts were a let down, why go back for more?
It’s pretty sad, really. They all appeared to be so
promising during our initial dates.
Despite Heather’s list making me sound like a “good-time
girl,” a phrase I hear a lot from my mom, I actually practice a lot of decorum
when choosing a lover. They all have ambitious careers, their own apartments,
aren’t married, and know how to treat a lady with manners. I don’t have a set
laundry list of physical attributes the guy has to have, but I do want a man
who cares enough about his health and appearance to not be slovenly or obese.
Unlike Heather, I never sit on the sidelines waiting for
life to come to me—I actively seek adventure and always will. Who says a woman
needs a man to be happy? I’m happy as I am on my own. And I intend to keep it
that way—not hung up on a guy like my mom was with my dad. When he left us, she
was devastated and it changed her outlook on life forever.
Avoiding large puddles and dangerous sidewalk grating, I
wish I would’ve changed out of my heels before dashing off to meet Heather. A
short woman like me learns the benefit of being on equal eye level in the
advertising world. Doesn’t hurt that I look great in them, too.
The awning to my building appears and I gratefully step
under it and push back my hood. I unzip the coat and flap the sides, knocking
off moisture before entering.
“Hey, Carla,” a masculine voice calls from the doorway.
I look up to see one of the company accountants holding the
door for me. “Thanks, Andrew.” I step through, avoiding eye contact with him.
He’s tried to make casual conversation with me for months,
and I’m always polite but careful not to lead him on. I mean really, he’s an accountant.
Could a job be more unexciting? Just stick him in an IT position and buy him a
ticket to the next Trekkie convention in town.
One thing I’ve learned while shopping for an exciting man—I
won’t find one in a humdrum job like his. I’m not saying Andrew is boring, he
seems nice enough. But his job sure as hell is unexciting, which decreases his
chances of being a stimulating guy by eighty percent.
While we walk across the lobby to the elevators, I sense him
fidgeting beside me, perhaps too nervous to talk. I smother a smile at his
awkwardness. Honestly, he’s not bad looking—no beer gut and he dresses okay.
Maybe I should hook him up with Katrina from yoga class. She’s been on the
prowl for a decent man.
He clears his throat as we step into the elevator. “Do you
have time later to talk about the Stringer account?”
My ears perk at the mention of my largest client. “Of
course. Is something wrong?”
The doors whisk closed and we ascend to our floor. “No,
nothing’s wrong. I was looking over the latest numbers and think I’ve found a
way to free up some advertising money in their budget that isn’t working where
it is now. Might help you up-sell them to a larger ad space in the areas that
are working.”
“Sounds good.” I smile, the first genuine one to grace my
face since I met Heather for lunch. “Your cubicle or mine?”
His blue eyes crinkle at the corners as he returns my smile.
“Come to mine, I’ll show you the spreadsheets.”
Hours later I hang up the phone with Jennifer Stringer, the
owner of the largest independently owned fabric distributor in the legendary
New York garment district. She was thrilled with Andrew’s findings and eager to
pour fifty thousand more into the current advertising campaign. We helped to
increase her business twenty percent in the last three months. Satisfaction for
a job well done warms me, filling me with a sense of completeness like no
encounter with a man ever has.
A sigh escapes as I relax into my chair. Damn, talk about a
long week. It’s Friday and after five. I stifle the urge to chant TGIF
and log off my computer, eager to shake the stresses of the week from my
shoulders.
IMs flew around the office ten minutes ago and people are
gearing up to meet at the bar down the block for drinks. I freshen my lipstick,
straighten my desk, and grab my bag. Andrew stands the same moment I do and our
eyes meet across the cubical walls. “Are you going tonight?” I ask him.
Interest lights his eyes. “Yup.”
He runs a hand through his short brown hair, the gesture
making him appear more confident. Too bad he’s boring, he’s almost handsome.
“Great, I owe you a drink for that tidbit you shared after lunch.”
A small smile turns up his mouth as he walks down the
opposite aisle toward the door. “Just one? Could have sworn my ‘tidbit’ helped
you make your monthly quota a week early.”
I laugh at his ballsiness. “Maybe I’ll buy you two. But
don’t get your hopes up.”
A spark ignites in his blue depths as his gaze travels up
and down my length. An awareness tingles through me and I can’t deny, he looks different,
somehow. He’s only a few inches taller than I am in heels, which makes him a
couple of inches shy of six-foot. His shirtsleeves are rolled up to reveal
corded forearms with a light dusting of hair. With warm heat banked in his
gaze, his average looks jump a thousand points.
I brush off the sudden interest spiking in my gut. I can’t
let an office romance begin to brew. I told Heather I wasn’t doing any of the
things she accused me of. No matter how much I might wish otherwise, I highly
doubt a co-worker with benefits is much different than the friends
with benefits on her sheet.
As a large boisterous group of our co-workers join us in the
elevator, I resolve to steer clear of any temptation offered by Andrew at the
bar. No way in the world could he be a good match for me.
Review:
I am a fan of Ms. Ellisson and loved the first book in this series, Vanilla on Top. It sizzled and popped, giving me the hope that this book would be as spicy. It was, but in a different way. It was more of a general romance instead of the BDSM slant I was expecting and I got a story that was a bit different from what I was expecting.
Carla has some commitment issues stemming from her childhood. After sleeping with several men and finding them to be boring and useless, she has a fling with Andy, an accountant at work. He is determined to prove his worth to her as a lover, even as she is treating him in a less than decently. I like books where I can identify at least a little with the motivation of the main character and this time I found myself pretty much not liking her at all. She treats Andy terribly and while I loved his character-naughty and nice, I felt like Carla was kind of bitchy with not much in the redeeming value kind of way.
Overall, the story was fine but it was, unfortunately, one that I had a hard time connecting with. Identifying with the female character is key with me, and if she is too off the charts, I can't. It made me want to hug Andy and find him a nice girl who wasn't so high maintenance.
3/5
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)