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  “That’s it,” he said, pulling his head out from under the sink. “Turn on the water.”

  She walked over to the sink and turned on the tap. “Very fast,” she said as the water swirled down the drain. “Nice job, Mayor.”

  “Yeah, well, we do it all.” He got to his feet. “Now, I’ll have some of that wine.”

  She poured him a glass while he washed his hands, and then sat at the table with him in uncomfortable silence while he took his first sip. “Interesting,” he said, looking at the glass. “Did you make this in the basement?”

  “We bought it at the grocery,” Sophie said.

  “The grocery here in Temptation?” Phin said, appalled.

  “It’s the only one,” Sophie said. “Of course, the grocery here.”

  He started to laugh. “What, you couldn’t afford the Ripple?”

  “Fine, don’t drink it.” Sophie reached for his glass, but Phin held on to it.

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine once I get used to it.” He took another sip and shuddered. “Never mind,” he said, and passed it over to her. “So tell me about the movie.”

  “No.” Sophie looked at him with naked exasperation. “That’s all you ever ask about, and I’ve already told you everything. What is it with you?”

  Phin shrugged. “Okay, tell me about your life. How did the therapist take the news last night?”

  Sophie raised her eyebrows. “You know he’s a therapist?”

  “This is Temptation,” Phin said. “Stay long enough, I’ll know everything about you. Of course, since you’re leaving tomorrow, you’ll get to keep most of your secrets.”

  “We’re not leaving tomorrow,” Sophie said. “We’re going to shoot some extra footage for the movie, so we’re staying over until next Sunday.”

  “Really.” Phin’s face was as impassive as ever. “And how did the therapist take that?”

  “I didn’t tell him.” Sophie sipped her wine and gathered her courage. “I told him I wanted to fuck you, and he told me I was trying to shock him with language.” There, that was the ticket, just say it really fast, like swallowing medicine or pulling off a Band-Aid.

  Phin frowned his disbelief. “You told him you wanted to fuck him, and he yelled at you for talking dirty?” He shook his head. “This guy is dead below the waist.”

  “No.” Sophie picked up his glass and moved to the sink to dump it. Then she swallowed and said carefully, “I told him I wanted to fuck you, and he said—” She stopped because this time he’d gotten it. “That wasn’t a pass,” she said, backing up a step. “I was merely—”

  “The hell it wasn’t.” Phin stood up, and Sophie thought, Oh, jeez, it’s working, now what do I do?

  “Well, not really.” She backed up again and bumped into the wall. “It was more...”

  He followed her to the wall and bent to look her in the eye. “Sophie.”

  “What?”

  “That was a pass.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe, subconsciously, a small one.”

  “Sophie.”

  She shut her eyes. “Okay, it was a pass, but—”

  He kissed her, and she didn’t have to finish the sentence, which was a damn good thing because she had no idea where she’d been going with it. She kissed him back, clutching at his shirt, and he broke the kiss to say, “Don’t wrinkle the cotton,” and pried her fingers off. She thought, Well, the hell with you. Then he pulled her close again, and she pressed herself against all that lovely muscle and bone and thought, As long as he shuts up, this is going to be good, and then his mouth was on hers again, and she stopped thinking at all.

  Ten minutes later, when her dress was unbuttoned and so was his shirt, and she was dizzy and tight with the heat and even he looked a little mind-whacked, he said, “Where’s your bedroom?”

  “What?” Sophie blinked at him, coming back from all that good lust.

  “Bed. Room,” Phin said distinctly, sliding his hand inside her dress. “Or we can do this on the kitchen table, but I’m pretty sure I just heard somebody pull up outside. I don’t care if Wes and Amy watch, but having Zane in the room would definitely put me off my stroke.”

  “Oh, no.” Sophie stepped back, and he followed her, his hand tightening on her waist. “That would be bad with people ...” She looked around vaguely. “... here.” She caught sight of the phone and said, “Oh, damn, I have to call Brandon.”

  Phin looked at her incredulously and took his hand out of her dress. “Now?”

  “I have to break up with him before I fool around with you,” Sophie said. “That’s only right.”

  “You’re a little late.” He gestured to her open dress. “The fooling-around is pretty much under way. Come here.” He reached for her again, and she ducked away to grab the phone. “I don’t believe this,” he said, and sat down on the edge of the table, disheveled and gorgeous, looking at her as if she were demented, while she dialed and then waited for Brandon to pick up the phone.

  “Brandon?” she said when it finally clicked, but it was his machine again. “Listen, Brandon, I did not want to leave this message on your machine, but since you’re avoiding me—” She looked back over her shoulder at Phin, who was shaking his head at the ceiling. “—I think we should break up. And see other people. So that’s what I’m doing. Seeing other people.”

  Phin put his head in his hands.

  “Of course, they’re not sensitive, understanding people like you,” Sophie said pointedly.

  “You want sensitive and understanding, stick with the therapist,” Phin said. “You want great, head-banging sex, get off the fucking phone and come with me.”

  “I have to go now,” Sophie said breathlessly into the phone. “I’m sorry if this hurts you but I don’t think it will. You always seemed sort of clinical anyway.”

  “Oh, yeah, that’ll soften the blow,” Phin said. “Remind me never to get involved with you.”

  “Um, have a nice life,” Sophie said brightly, and hung up. She walked over and boosted herself onto the table next to him, willing herself to stay cool, and reached for her wineglass again. “So you’re not getting involved?”

  He took the glass away from her. “No. I’m just going to .have cheap sex with you and then run like hell.”

  “Chicken,” she said.

  He stood up and put her glass in the sink, and then he came back to stand in front of her, parting her knees with his body. He said, “You bet,” and she lost her breath again.

  He kissed her, sliding his hand into her dress to cup her breast, and she thought, A semi-complete stranger is groping me, and smiled against his mouth.

  “What?” he said, and she gave in to the devil and wrapped her legs around his waist.

  “It feels good,” she said, and he said, “Well, that’s why I do it,” and kissed her again, running his hands down her back to lift her off the table.

  “Where’s the bedroom?” he said, and she said, “Second door on the left upstairs.”

  “Upstairs?” He put her back on the table. “Then you walk. And make it quick, before the therapist calls back.”

  She was going to argue, but she heard Amy and Wes on the porch, so she slid off the table and headed for the stairs and all that head-banging sex she’d been promised.

  Twenty minutes later, she was suffocating on top of him in the heat of her un-air-conditioned bedroom, the ancient box springs squeaking under them like a bad accordion, and her head was unbanged because the sex was lousy.

  It wasn’t Phin’s fault. He was as thoroughly competent at the Phallic Variation as he’d been orally the night before. So it must be me, she thought, as he moved under her, doing absolutely nothing for her. She felt embarrassed by the whole situation. Zane had been right. She just wasn’t the type for head-banging sex. She was too detached. She was too prissy and straight. She was doing this to write a sex scene for a movie she wasn’t even sure she wanted to make. She was hot and sticky and she could feel her hair kinking in the heat even as Phi
n breathed under her, so she knew she looked awful. She was unexciting. Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter, she was never going to get anywhere at this rate.

  She thought briefly about faking it, and then dumped the idea when she realized that Phin would probably see through it and make fun of her performance. That pretty much left her with no option except tapping him on the shoulder and telling him to play on through because she was out of the game. Sorry, she’d have to say. I’m not even close. Or she could let him figure it out on his own, except guys never did. They just—

  “You’re not even close, are you?” Phin said, breathless below her, and she refocused back on him.

  “What?”

  “Hi, I’m Phin Tucker, and I’m inside you. I know how these things slip your mind.” He didn’t sound annoyed, but she felt bad anyway.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, and he slid his hand down her back and rolled to one side so that they lay face-to-face on the damp sheets, the springs protesting under them.

  “Don’t apologize.” He brushed back a curl that was stuck to her forehead. “Thinking about the therapist?” He moved against her to bring her closer, and her nerves kicked into gear.

  “Who?” she said, trying to figure out what the hell he was talking about.

  “Well, at least you forgot us both,” Phin said. “That was very democratic of you.” He used a corner of the sheet to wipe sweat off her forehead. “Remind me to get you an air conditioner before we do this again. I’m dying here.”

  She wanted to say, What are you talking about, AGAIN? This is a disaster, but it didn’t seem polite. “Maybe we should just call it a night,” she said, and moved back from him, and he followed her to stay inside her, and that made her shiver under his hands.

  “Maybe we should give it another shot,” he said as she trembled. “That’s at least one nerve you’ve still got working.” He kissed her in the damp curve where her neck met her shoulder, and she took a ragged breath and moved against him again without thinking. “And that one always works. I noticed that last night.”

  “Last night was different,” she said.

  “Yeah, you came,” Phin said, and she laughed in spite of herself.

  “Not that. I’m distracted tonight. It’s not your fault.”

  “Do me a favor.” Phin slid his hand down her sweat-damp back again. “Don’t be understanding. There’s nothing worse for a guy’s ego.”

  “Your ego is in fine shape,” Sophie said crushingly. “Along with the rest of you. Really, this isn’t going to work. Could we go watch TV now or something?”

  “No.” Phin kissed her in the curve of her neck again, and she shivered and said, “Stop that.”

  “See?” he said in her ear, which made her shiver, too. “Progress. Now tell me your fantasies.”

  “What?” She tried to squirm away and he rolled again, trapping her under him. He was heavy and sweaty which should have been a turn-off, but her body rocked against his, independent of her mind, and she closed her eyes as he slid deeper into her.

  “I think it’s time we got to know each other,” Phin said, laughter in his voice. “What do you think about when you masturbate?”

  “Okay, I’m out of here.” Sophie tried to roll out from under him, but he pressed down on her with his hips, and she stayed just to feel him hard inside her.

  “What do you think about, Sophie?” he whispered in her ear, and she said loudly, “I don’t think about anything.”

  “You are such a lousy liar.” He rolled again, this time so that she was on top, his body sliding slickly under hers, and Sophie felt herself flush.

  “Bondage?” he said, his voice husky as he rocked against her, his hands on her hips, and she caught her breath and said, “You come near me with a rope, and I’m history.”

  “Okay, later for that,” he said. “Rape fantasy?”

  “Tacky,” she said, and he said, “Not if you do it right. You want to dominate?”

  “Oh, yeah. Like you’d let me.” She started to laugh, only to stop when she heard people in the kitchen downstairs. “Shhh.”

  “Why?” Phin stopped moving. “It’s just Wes and Amy.”

  “Yeah.” Sophie looked over her shoulder at the door.

  “Did you lock it?” Phin said in her ear, and he sounded amused.

  “I forgot.” She tried to pull away from him, but he rolled and trapped her again, sliding deeper inside her and making her gasp. “Stop it,” she said breathlessly. “I’m not even sure it’s closed all the way. Let me go lock it and I’ll come back.”

  “Bothers you, huh?” Phin started working his way down her neck again as he pulsed inside her, and Sophie felt the heat spread low as her blood pounded.

  “No,” she lied.

  “They could walk in anytime.” He nibbled on her shoulder, and she twitched under him and felt her breath go. “Walk right in and find us naked.” He slid his hand up to her sweat-dampened breast, and the heat rolled across her as she moved to his rhythm. “Find you naked. With me inside you. Nothing you could do about it.”

  She caught her breath and said, “Stop it,” and he said, “Nope, I think we’re getting somewhere.”

  She squirmed under him to get away, and their bodies slid together. He said, “Oh, God, yes, do that,” and she smacked him on the shoulder because he was so impossible, and arched into him at the same time because he was so hard moving inside her and he felt so good.

  “Maybe I can get... somebody else ... to open that door,” he said in her ear, and she said, “No!” a lot louder than she meant because it was part moan. She heard Amy say, “Sophie?” downstairs, and she tensed. Phin laughed down at her, his face as damp as hers.

  Beautifully moist, Sophie thought. Be careful what you wish for.

  Amy called her name again, and Phin said, “Excellent.” He rocked higher into her, and she bit her lip to keep from moaning and then moaned anyway. “Louder,” he said, and she shook her head as the heat built and his rhythm began to make her mindless.

  “Then it’s up to me.” He sounded breathless. “The guy always has to do everything.”

  He leaned over her to the bedside table, and she bit into his shoulder from the sheer pleasure of feeling him against her. Then he stopped, and she looked up to see him holding the alarm clock.

  “I’ll buy you a new one,” he said, and threw it against the wall.

  “What are you doing!” she screamed as it crashed and went off clanging. Amy called up, “Sophie?” and Phin moved again, rocking harder, and she shuddered under him and gasped, “Stop it.”

  “This close? Not on your life.” He was moving faster now, and she clutched at him and breathed hard as the pressure built. She said, “No ... no... we’re not... close,” and he rolled across her again, making her jerk against him. He picked up the dolphin lamp, yanking the cord out with it, and she realized what he was doing and shrieked, “No!” just as he threw it against the wall.

  It shattered and fell on top of the clanging alarm.

  “Sophie?” Amy called, and started up the stairs, and Phin said, “This is it,” and moved high into her, grabbing her wrists and holding them over her head, sliding hot on top of her, rocking hard inside her, whispering in her ear that Amy’d catch them, any minute, any minute, any minute, now, now, now, and Sophie twisted under him, caught in the heat and the slide and the panic and the throb he was pounding into her, and then Amy said, “Sophie?” and pushed open the door, and Sophie cried, “Oh, God,” and came so hard she almost passed out.

  “Oh,” Amy said, and shut the door.

  Sophie heard Amy go down the stairs, with only a fraction of her attention. The rest was consumed with how good she felt everywhere as the aftershocks made her twitch, how much she needed her breath back, and how she was going to strangle Phin when he let go of her wrists and she was done feeling incredible. And even as she had the thought, he shuddered on top of her and let go, collapsing with his face in her pillow.

  “You perve
rt,” she said minutes later, when she could talk.

  “You came,” he said, his voice muffled by the pillow.

  “I don’t believe you did that.”

  “I don’t believe you’re not grateful.”

  “Grateful?” Sophie struggled to sit up, and for once he let her slide out from under him, rolling to get rid of the condom as she moved away from him. “Look at this.” The alarm clock was smashed next to the baseboard, and the dolphin lamp was in a million pieces, and it was just a mess, but try as she might, she couldn’t work up any real indignation. Total satisfaction did that, she supposed, just sort of made everything else irrelevant. Still, he’d been impossible, so she concentrated on the carnage while she used the sheet to blot the sweat from her happily throbbing body. “I mean, just look at it!”