Read The Bare Facts Online

Authors: Karen Anders

The Bare Facts

From Fantasy #2—The Striptease…

He was dangerous, she thought

Haley's response to Dylan was overpowering. She'd just gone too far. She moved closer to him as he sat behind his desk, certain that none of his co-workers would interrupt them at such a late hour.

“You are a bad boy,” she scolded, smiling softly. She unbuttoned her blouse enough to let him get a glimpse of what was beneath. She unzipped the back of her skirt and let it fall to the floor.

Haley approached Dylan, then brushed against him, but whirled away when he tried to touch her. She faced him again and began to remove her blouse slow button by slow button, until she'd revealed everything.

Dylan moaned, and it fueled Haley's movements. He left his chair and the momentum carried them back against a wall. He took her mouth with a searing, seductive kiss.

Haley closed her eyes against the scorching desire building inside her. She knew it now. She'd gone there for more than her column. She'd gone there for him. For this. She needed him.
Actually, she wanted him
.

 

Dear Reader,

My critique group made me write this story. They told me that I had a special gift for writing sensual stories and that I should enter the Blaze writing contest. So I did, and here is the result. I'm glad I listened to them. I'm thrilled to be writing for the Harlequin Blaze line.

What could be
more
fun than writing about fantasies? Well, living them! That's what Haley, my heroine, does. She needs to make a splash with a spice-up-your-sex-life column that was dropped into her lap, and who better to
spice
up her life than my sexy hero, Dylan? Come along and discover how they overcome their obstacles to love while they learn about each other—body and soul.

After you've finished reading about Haley and Dylan and your heart stops racing, please let me know what you think. You can write to me at P.O. Box 1929, Centreville, VA 20122 or visit me at karenanders.com and drop me an e-mail. And check out the brand-new Blaze site at www.tryblaze.com.

Enjoy!

Karen Anders

THE BARE FACTS
Karen Anders

To Darlene, Diane and Lisa.
Thanks for the support, for the craft, for the laughter. I love you guys!

1

“Y
OU KNOW
,
Haley. You have to
have
a sex life before you can write about one….”

Haley Lawton slid a sidelong glance at her co-worker and best friend, Margo Grant. “I have a lot of dates, just not a lot of sex. But let's keep that between you and me. Our editor in chief, Kate Moore, thinks I'd be good at writing a steamy column.”

Six months ago, Haley had signed on as an editorial intern at
SPICE Magazine,
but had yet to be trusted to write copy. This golden opportunity to write a regular column that Kate had dropped in her lap would allow her to prove herself as a strong writer and hopefully lead into full-time feature articles. Haley had two she'd been working on.

Editing copy was not her lifelong dream, but getting hired at
SPICE
was only a stepping stone to feature writing. Here was her big break to show Kate what she could do with a column and she was without a sex partner.
SPICE's
editor in chief expected her to write a column on living out your fantasies entitled “Spice Up Your Sex Life.” The previous columnist had been a good writer and was guaranteed her job, but Kate felt there was something lacking—she hoped
Haley could find that something. She promised to consider Haley seriously for a writing position depending on how she did with the column.

Because of Haley's reputation, a reputation that had grown from a tongue-in-cheek remark about “her wild, wicked ways” in college and fueled by her voluptuous body and myriad dates, Kate thought she could do the job. But what did Haley know about fantasies? She had them, of course, but she thought experiencing the hot, the passionate, the forbidden would be extremely tantalizing, and make her writing leap off the page.

Margo scooted her chair closer to Haley so they wouldn't be overheard. “I hate to break the news to you, honey, but you're not a hot babe in bed. So you've had a lot of dates, but I think you're pining for that gorgeous-what's-his-name from college.”

“Dylan Malone,” Haley moaned softly, closing her eyes in embarrassment. “Don't remind me. I can't say it was hot and sexy because I don't remember a thing.”

“Except how you ended up at his frat house as soon as the ceremony was over, got a little carried away with all the excitement and drank way too much?”

“Never use alcohol to bolster your courage.”

“So you planned on seducing him?”

“I guess I had that in the back of my mind. I figured graduation night was a good time to make a move. We'd get together and there wouldn't be any of that awkwardness afterward since we wouldn't
have to see each other again. I'm out of his social class. But that night was so crazy. So many people were packed into that house there wasn't room to move. I was worried about being sick in front of all those people, so he took me to his room. I think we talked a while and then started kissing.”

“Well, something more than kissing must have happened, because you were naked, you said he was naked and you were in bed together.”

She'd never forget waking up in Dylan's arms, his gorgeous face inches from hers. The dark stubble on his chin and cheeks fascinated her. She remembered the hot, smooth feel of his chest against her breasts. A chest she didn't even remember touching, caressing, tasting.

When she woke, she'd been mortified that she couldn't remember a thing. She was sure he'd apologize and make excuses as to why he couldn't see her again, blah blah blah. Just what she had expected, but she'd hoped to remember the encounter to savor later on. Instead, there was nothing but a blank. She'd saved herself the humiliation of being dumped by the biggest skirt chaser on NYU's Manhattan campus. That had been a year ago.

“That's exactly why I bolted, to keep my dignity intact and to spare him the embarrassment. That's if guys get embarrassed about those kinds of things.”

“Haley, it wasn't like you were a virgin or anything. Steve Sheppard took care of that for you in high school.”

“But if you remember correctly, I liked Steve. A
lot. I never considered sex with him casual. I thought that I might marry him. It was a romantic idea.”

“Because your parents have been together since God was in short pants.”

“Well, yeah. They're my role models. While just about everyone around me was getting divorced, my parents were in love and still are. My dad and mom are faithful to each other. I think it's wonderful and I want that for myself.”

“Who doesn't? Haley, we're not talking about forever here. You slept with Malone and can't remember. Big deal. That was a year ago.”

“Look, Margo. Remembering Dylan is only making me hot and bothered and not helping with my current dilemma. I've got to figure out how I'm going to write four columns about living your sexual fantasies when the only one I've ever experienced I can't remember.”

“I could help you write the article, Haley, but I'm presently between dates. Hey, maybe you can call your mom.”

“What!” Haley rocked back in her chair. A passing co-worker looked at her curiously. Haley lowered her voice. “Are your out of your mind? I'm not asking my mother about her sex life. Jeez. Do you think I want a mental picture of my parents…never mind. That's out of the question.”

Margo was unperturbed. Nothing fazed the woman. “How about a book on erotica? They have some really sexy fantasies.”

“It still would be secondhand information, Margo.”

Both women were silent for a moment. Then Margo got a gleam in her eye. Yup, that was a definite gleam and could not be a good thing.

“Haley. What does a nice girl do when she wants to be tutored in naughty ways?”

Haley sat up straighter. “She recruits a bad boy?” she said softly, hoping she was wrong about what that ugly little gleam in Margo's eye meant.

“Bingo.”

“Are you suggesting…?”

“Well. Don't you want to know what really happened that night?”

“I had Dylan Malone in bed, naked, and I can't remember. What do you think?” Haley breathed the words with a soft undertone of awe in her voice.

The gleam sharpened. “You think about him all the time. Don't you?”

Haley took a breath, ready to deny it, but she heaved a sigh. “I try not to. You just agreed he was a skirt chaser. He'd be good for a fun time but not for anything serious.”

“What's wrong with a fun time?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all. The only problem is you don't hear me complaining about my phone ringing off the hook. It's not like Dylan's called me since that night. I'm out of his league. Probably why he hasn't called.”

“You
slunk
out without saying a word to him.”

“I did not
slink.
Besides, what could I say? The
earth moved? Margo, there could have been the mother of all earthquakes and I still wouldn't know if I had sex with the guy.”

“But you wanted to.”

“Are you crazy? Great hair, a face that would make a nun fantasize, a body with rippling, gorgeous muscles and a husky sexy voice. Yeah, let's not even talk about his mouth. And he's funny, sweet, intelligent, athletic, kind and a gentleman. Who wouldn't want to sleep with him?”

Margo looked frustrated, fanning herself vigorously. “Stop it, Haley. You're making me want to sleep with him.” When Haley narrowed her eyes at Margo, she put up her hands and smiled sheepishly. “But of course I wouldn't.”

“What if I call him, propose the idea to him and he laughs in my face?” Haley picked up a pencil and tapped it against her neat desk. Her face turned reflective. Haley knew she was bold, she was even adventurous, but could she explore this sexual side of herself? How could she ask Dylan to consider such a request?

“Then you're no worse off than you are now. Haley, you want to write more than anyone I've ever met. This is your chance to prove to Kate that you can handle the job. I know you have the talent, but you need the experience. Dylan has it. I say you don't have a choice, unless there is a Yellow Pages listing for 1-800-STUDMUFFIN.”

Haley rolled her eyes and laughed. “It wouldn't surprise me if there was such a listing in New York.”
She continued with the thread of the conversation. “He certainly isn't as shy and sweet as Steve was, but Dylan has a lot of charm and he's gorgeous.”

“Come on. Do you want to look back and say to yourself, ‘I could have been a success if only I'd taken a little risk?'”

Haley bit her lip, knowing that her friend was right, sort of. “Margo. It's not a
little
risk.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I had a major thing for this guy in college.”

“So?”

“Margo, it would be too easy to fall in love with the man. I don't want to get hurt. He had a flock of women in college. I'm sure nothing's changed. He wouldn't make a good, faithful partner. I can't settle for anything less.”

Margo rolled her eyes. “So you go in with your eyes wide open. It's just sex. That'll be your mantra.”

“This is not meditation, Margo. I'm not trying to seduce the Dalai Lama.”

“You want to sleep with him. Find out what you missed. Admit it.”

“All right. I admit it. He could be the answer to my problem. I don't even know if he's still in New York, but I think he was working for a New York advertising agency when he was in school. Westin, something, something.”

“Westin, Mayer and Martin? That's one prestigious agency. Donald Westin belongs to my country club.”

“I keep forgetting you run in those circles, Margo, because you never look down your nose at me.”

“People are people, Haley, but
I'd
even work for WMM because of their reputation. But breeding and status in society mean a lot to that stuffed shirt Westin. Dylan must have some pull. My guess is he's probably still working for that agency. It's not the kind of agency you leave,” Margo explained, leaning closer, clear interest brightening her eyes.

“It's a good place to start. No telling how fast he's risen up the corporate ladder by now.”

“Look, I could make some inquiries and see what I can find out among my friends. If he's still at WMM, I'll find out.”

Haley's heart felt as if it were caught in her throat. To see Dylan again and ask him something so outrageous…wow. Her body tingled. Her clothes felt too tight and restraining, her blood hot. It wasn't something Haley had ever contemplated doing in her life, but she would be confident, bold and, yes, adventurous when it came to going after her dream. Mmm…her dream. Now, would that be a writing job or finding out what she missed a year ago when she'd had all that hot, muscular, gorgeous man in her arms.

If Dylan agreed, she'd make sure her mind wasn't clouded with anything this time.

 

D
YLAN WAITED
and he fidgeted. He kept looking toward the door of the restaurant. Anticipation. It seemed like hours since he'd heard her sweet, sexy voice at the end of his receiver.

She'd caught him just as he was leaving his office. What a day he'd had. First he'd landed the biggest account of his life with the NAPTA, the National Association to Promote Teenage Abstinence, and second Haley Lawton had called him.

When she appeared in the doorway of the restaurant, Dylan sighed as if he'd been waiting to exhale for a year. Nothing about her had changed. She was still the beauty. Her honey-blond hair was loose, the crazy, corkscrew curls unchecked in a riotous mass around her arresting face. Waiters gaped, forks halted and women envied. Haley had those flamboyant movie-star looks that made heads turn. Yet, his world wouldn't accept her no matter how beautiful she was.

Dylan had always done what his father wanted except go to Brown. He'd wanted some normalcy in his life and had insisted on staying in New York. He knew his financially strapped father couldn't afford Brown anyway, so his refusing had worked to Dylan's advantage. Westin, Mayer and Martin was a prestigious agency and Dylan had risen in the ranks very quickly, but he liked to think his success had more to do with his creativity and drive rather than any strings his father pulled.

Dylan had been enthralled with Haley in college, and watching her walk across the floor he realized that his interest in her hadn't diminished. He had wanted to ask her out in college, but he'd resisted the temptation. He'd worried too much about subjecting sweet, middle-class Haley to his high-class barracuda friends and his class-conscious family.

Not much had changed. He still associated mostly with the “right group of people,” as his father would say, but that was solely by choice. It wasn't that all his friends were bad, but the majority was aware of their player status.

As she made her way across the restaurant, Dylan's eyes slid over her. She was wearing a demure red sweater and a short black skirt. He couldn't help wondering what she wore under them. He sought out her vibrant blue eyes and she flashed him that look, full of innocence and sin. A combination he could never get enough of. But what he'd always respected about Haley was the intelligence that shone in those sky-blue eyes. An intelligence that had kept him enthralled for hours on graduation night. That frustrating, cursed night when he'd found and then lost Haley Lawton.

All the better for her, he thought.

“Gee, I hope you haven't been waiting long.”

Dylan smiled and shook his head. “Waiting for you is no chore, Haley.” He stood and saw the pleasure in her eyes that made him feel as if he was the best man on the face of the earth.

In a soft voice that sent heat skidding across his skin, she said, “Ah. You're still Prince Charming, Dylan. How sweet.”

He pulled her chair out because he wanted to see that look again. The courtesy gave him an opportunity to lean over her and get a whiff of her hair. When she settled herself in the chair, he breathed deep. Sunshine and flowers. That fully described Haley.

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