Sensual Secrets. Jo Leigh

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      He holds out my bag. “I didn’t know if you were hurt, or I would have gone after him.”

      “It’s all right. In fact, it’s extraordinary. You could have been killed, and you don’t even know me.”

      He grins at me. “Oh, but I do know you, Amelia.”

      My heart pounds. Is this some trick? Some con?

      “I’ve seen you in the café. And I know what you do on that computer.”

      “You do?”

      He nods as he takes a step toward me. “I know all about you. What you like, what you want. What you need.”

      I can barely breathe. How is it possible? “What I write is private. Anonymous.”

      “I don’t need to read anything,” he says, as he reaches his hand to cup my cheek. “I read you, Amelia. I see past all your defenses. I know how remarkable you are. I know how hard you’ve worked for your education. How much you care about your aunt. I know everything, Amelia. But mostly I know that you’re the most incredibly sensual woman I’ve ever met. Every other man on earth is a fool, because they don’t see it. They don’t see you like I do.”

      I can’t speak. How can he talk to me like this? We don’t know each other at all…or do we?

      He touches my cheek. Holds me captive with his gaze. Then his lips touch mine, and the rest of the world disappears. I’m drowning in his kiss as he folds me into the safety of his arms. His hands run down my back. He touches my waist. Then below my waist. He cups my behind and pulls me tight against his body. I feel his erection. It’s huge!

      Jay coughed, nearly choking on his beer. She thought he was huge? He looked down at his jean-covered half-hard cock. He’d never been ashamed to walk around in the locker room, but huge? Damn.

      He went back to the story.

      His kiss deepens, and then he pulls back. “Come with me,” he whispers.

      “Where?”

      “To my bed.”

      “But—”

      He puts his hand gently over my lips. “Don’t be afraid. You know you want this. Almost as much as I do.”

      I nod slowly, knowing it’s foolish to fight the truth. He—

      It ended. Boom. Just like that. Jay scanned the next several pages, but the rest of the fantasy wasn’t written down. What the hell? Why’d she stop just when she was going to come to his apartment? When she knew it was foolish to fight the truth—

      He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head at his own stupidity. It was a fantasy. Not a promise.

      Yet.

      AMELIA PUNCHED the time clock on her way out of the library. Almost four, and she was done for the day. She worked in the stacks, shelving and dusting. It was a quiet world, perfect for her, even though the pay was dreadful. She should go work on her term paper, but all that was left to do there was a proofread, and it might be wiser to wait for a day before she did that.

      Or was that just an excuse? Either way, she wasn’t going home. Not yet. She headed down Bleeker Street, toward Washington Square and the café. Would he be there? Her heart raced at the thought. Just like it always did.

      Her crush on him was ridiculous, she knew that. But it was also the only thing in her life she was truly passionate about. Except for her studies, of course, but that was a totally different kind of passion. Jay made her skin tingle, her stomach clench. She’d read a word somewhere, limerance. It meant that state of deep, addictive infatuation that happens when someone falls in love. She was absolutely there. Unequivocally. Shamefully.

      Unfortunately, the man she was in limerance with didn’t know her name. Thought she was a joke. And yet, as she neared the café, her pace quickened along with her pulse. She said her “Jay mantra.” Please, oh, please.

      Once she was at the door, she hesitated. Pushed her hair back, moistened her lips. Then she remembered how he’d almost touched her. Perhaps if he’d had a reason? She loosened a strand of hair by her cheek.

      She walked in, instantly certain he wasn’t there. The air was just air. Brian was at the bar, joystick in hand, making shooting noises as he destroyed enemy ships or some such. What an odd fellow he was. One would never guess his true age. He spoke like a teenager and played teenage games. On the other hand, he owned the café—and from what she could tell, it was a very successful venture. Two people were at computer terminals—the girl she’d seen before and a new guy. Young. A freshman, probably. They didn’t look at her.

      She walked over to her favorite workstation, but before she booted up, she took a couple of deep, calming breaths. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t here. Why should it? Even if he were, so what? He was out of her league, and she was out of her mind.

      Her aunt Grace had told her many times that her imagination was going to be the death of her. She shouldn’t waste her time on daydreams. On wanting what she couldn’t have. Aunt Grace might be a little extreme in her attitudes, but she had a point about the woes of an active imagination.

      All of Amelia’s problems were a direct result of wanting more than she could have. On the other hand, her aunt had been certain Amelia would never get accepted into the graduate program, or get financial aid. It had shocked them both when she’d won the fellowship. Full tuition, including books. It had been a miracle.

      So who was to say there couldn’t be a miracle here? Right?

      She turned on the computer and logged in. She typed in the URL for TrueConfessions.com, and went directly to her journal entries.

      What if I dropped something? And he picked it up? And our fingers touched. Sparks, electricity. Magic. Our eyes would meet and he’d smile, but not his regular smile. This one would hold surprise, would ask a question. I’d smile back in answer. Yes. My interest is real. Then he’d ask me my name. Sit at the edge of the table. See me. Not the blush, not the fear, but me. The part of me that is desire. That is passion. He’d touch my cheek and the caress would last, and it would stoke the flames inside us both. He’d lean over. Kiss me gently on the lips.

      The front door opened, and her heart leapt. Only, it was the other guy from the motorcycle shop. The one with the glasses.

      She sighed, already feeling the foolishness of her fantasy. The loneliness.

      Maybe I could say hello. That’s all. Just hello. Would that be so earth shattering? Would the heavens fall and the oceans rise if I just said a simple hello?

      Amelia stopped her fingers, stopped her thoughts, too. She didn’t want to wallow in self-pity. Nothing bothered her more, and yet she found herself going there with alarming frequency. Again, it was clear that her problems were about expectations. Dreams that were too big for her little life. Quiet desperation.

      No. That wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted serenity. Satisfaction. Passion. Romance. Sex. Lots of sex. Mind-blowing sex.

      She focused on the computer monitor once more.

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