Sweet and Sinful. Jodi Lynn Copeland

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      “What could one little naughty videotape hurt?” Gail Taeber’s voice was a cross between disbelief and outrage. Hands on her shorts-clad hips in the middle of the living room of the downtown Grand Rapids apartment they shared, she gave Courtney the evil eye. “What, are you nuts?” She waved a slim hand dismissively. “Never mind, don’t answer that. It’s clear what you are, what you’ve become. A slut.”

      They’d been friends since their freshman year in college eight years ago; far too long for Courtney to be offended. And truthfully, before taking control of the more pleasurable aspects of her life, she would have felt the same way.

      Now Courtney knew the value of letting life’s daily stresses fall to the wayside by way of a hunk to do.

      “Mmm…Guilty as charged.” Hoping to get a laugh out of her roomie, she licked her lips exaggeratedly, then segued into a little bump and grind hip action that reminded her how tight the red leather pants were. She’d intended to come home and head straight to her bedroom to slip into something literally more comfortable, but then Gail had been up watching a movie and, from the instant Courtney stepped through the door, had started in with the grilling.

      Without a hint of amusement, Gail scraped her fingers through her hair, pulling back the naturally white-blond, mid-back-length locks. “I don’t get you anymore.”

      “You don’t get ‘it’ at all.” Courtney regretted the words the instant they left her mouth. Just because she was living her desires didn’t mean she felt everyone had to do the same.

      Hurt passed through Gail’s eyes. Then her hands returned to her hips and her expression became one of aversion. “Is that all you think about these days? Sex?”

      “Of course not!” Assuming an impish smile, Courtney gave a last attempt at humor. “I think about all the places I’ve yet to pick a man up.”

      Gail’s eyes narrowed. “You’re unbelievable. Not even close to the girl I used to know.”

      Accepting she wasn’t going to get to her bedroom and comfy clothes anytime soon, Courtney dropped down on the blue and beige striped sofa. “I was kidding,” she assured soberly while removing the killer stilettos and tossing them aside. “I still take plenty of things seriously. You are right about one thing, though. I’m not the girl you used to know. She was average. Boring. Afraid to take a chance for fear of failure.” A country bumpkin who’d nearly let the best years of her sex life flash before her eyes.

      “Now you’re a woman who leaps into bed with every guy she meets without a thought to looking beyond if his equipment appeals to her.”

      “I don’t do every guy I meet. There have been a few this month and, yeah, a handful last month. But so what? I’m happy. And I leave them happy.”

      “So you think. What happens when you hook up with a guy who wants more than a single night and is ready to do anything to see that he gets it?”

      “I hook up with guys who want the same thing I want.” If they changed their mind after the fact, the way Mr. Hot Buns had tonight, that was hardly her fault. Even so, Courtney was a good enough judge of character to spot a lunatic. And smart enough to know that when she did dare to walk the line, as in the case of the promised videotape, to send her package “signature required” lest it end up in the wrong hands. “That doesn’t include stalkers or rapists, if that’s what you’re implying.”

      “I’m implying,” Gail started sharply. Then all the bluster came out of her on a whooshing breath and a muttered, “Oh, hell.”

      Wearing a contrite smile, she dropped down next to Courtney on the sofa. “I don’t really think you’re a slut. You know me better than that. I just worry—there’s always so much crap on the news about some woman being beaten, or shot to death by an ex-lover.”

      “Thanks for your concern,” Courtney said sincerely, “but I’ll be okay. We took that self-defense class in college, and I have pepper spray in my purse, if there ever comes a point when I need it. I’m not going to live in fear of such an unlikely event. This is my time for fun, for pleasure, to be more than average. No psycho man is going to ruin it for me.”

      Seriously, there was nothing to worry about. Courtney was behaving just like Candy, and Candy had been behaving this way for darned near a decade without incident. She would be fine. Better yet, she would be well sexed and purring like a kitten whenever the urge to get laid struck.