It Happened in L.A.: Ms Match / Shockingly Sensual / Playmates

He let her down gently, moaning as he slipped out.

IT OCCURRED TO GWEN that they should leave the shower, but the task was too daunting. Her heart was pounding, her legs felt like rubber, and she never wanted to move from this spot, from this man.

“You okay?”

She nodded, trying to work up the energy to smile. Screw it. He’d have to take it on faith.

She’d never done it in a shower. Not like this, anyhow. It was just like one of her fantasies, the kind she’d never thought to ask a man to help her play out.

Holly was right. All she’d needed to do was stop thinking. Let herself be with him. He would continue to amaze and delight her, if she only let him.

He turned away after he got the soap, and she washed up a bit before aiming the water in his direction. Motivated, thinking about her bed with him in it, she got out of the shower to grab her towel. He was right behind, and they grinned at each other like kids as they dried off.

With his hair all spiked and his body so stunning it seemed unreal, he nodded toward the other room. They hung up their towels and headed over to the bed, him getting there first to toss pillows in the corner.

As she pulled down the bedding, she wondered what he saw when he looked at her. She knew it had to be pleasurable, but she wondered all the same. Did he see her the way she saw herself? Probably not. When she looked at his face, what she saw was filtered through her life experience, just as hers would be for him. Which confused her, given what his life experience had been. Whoops, that was enough thinking. She’d sworn off it, and she wasn’t going to spoil the night by using her pesky brain for anything more taxing than rudimentary speech.

He sighed as he got under the covers, adorably wiggling his feet as he yanked the comforter up his chest. She followed suit, grabbing a cold water on her way. “You want?”

“I think I’ll take that Heinie now,” he said.

When she stretched to get the bottle, he reached under the covers and pinched her butt.

“Hey!”

“I wasn’t talking about beer.”

“Oh, that is so lame.” She got him his beer, debated touching his chest with the icy bottle, but kindness prevailed. “I expect so much more from you, Mr. Bennet.”

“Do you? Bummer. And I was just gonna ask if any of the movies you had in mind were dirty.”

She opened her water, sighing as she sat back on the pillows he’d left. “Not a one.”

“Damn. So what are our options?”

She listed as many as her poor brain would give her, and he stopped her at Bull Durham.

“Really? Excellent. Don’t you just love his long-wet-kisses speech? And painting her toenails?”

He had his beer inches from his mouth. “I had no idea you were such a girl. I mean, come on. It’s a baseball movie. Yeah, Sarandon’s hot, but it’s about baseball. And just for the record, what’s with all the pillows? Don’t you have to take them off every single night, and put them all back every single day?”

“Pillows are what define a civilized society. That and the banishment of the designated hitter.”

“Wow,” he said, lowering his beer. “That was impressive. Pillows and baseball, together. It’s all starting to make sense.”

“Plebeian. You probably hired someone to decorate your house. A woman, right?”

“No. It was a man. And he wanted to put a pile of pillows on my bed, too, so what does that do to your fancy hypothesis, huh?”

“Actually, it proves it.”

Paul looked at her, slowly raising his right eyebrow. “I wish I’d had more to drink. It would have been awesome to belch right now.”

She laughed out loud as she shook her head.

The moment, however, was interrupted by a growl from his tummy.

“I need to feed you.”

“Don’t go,” he said. “I’m fine. I’m not hungry.”

His stomach protested. Loudly.

She put her water bottle on the nightstand. “I’m going to get snacks. Then I’ll put on the movie. You don’t have to do anything but think wonderful thoughts.”

“You don’t want a hand?”

“Nope. I’ll be back in a flash.” She got out of bed and took her robe from the closet door hook. It was more of a kimono than a robe, and it felt wonderful on her naked skin.

She put together a quick fruit and cheese platter. It wasn’t all that miraculous a feat as she’d prepared everything that afternoon. Oh, and she didn’t want to forget the chocolate. It had been too expensive and way too many calories, but she’d wanted to take her decadence in one giant swallow. She even grabbed the bottle of champagne from the fridge.

It felt silly, how she’d been too embarrassed to have the champagne in the ice bucket. Another thing she refused to dwell on.

With a full tray, she headed back to the bedroom, anxious about what would happen next. He’d been an animal in the shower. So hot. Remembering made her nipples hard, which was actually pretty neat.

Right before her bedroom door, she paused. She’d barely given herself a moment to relax all day. Because if she’d thought things through, they would have watched the movie on the couch.

She might have been the one who suggested this next step, but there was still so much that made her anxious. Not that she hadn’t tried. She’d been vigilant about her thoughts. But he was in her bed. This wasn’t a couch quickie. This meant something. It pointed toward a future, and that future couldn’t just be him in her world.

Stop it! she told herself. It would all work out. Or it wouldn’t. Tonight? Bull Durham and sex.

He was on his side, head resting on his hand, watching her as she came into the room.

“Whoa,” he said as she put the tray on the bed. “You did all that just now?”

“Of course. We pillow women know our snacks.”

“I’m impressed. I’d have had to order out.”

She felt a little guilty about the lie. “Want to open the champagne, or should we wait?”

“I’m still working on my beer. Let’s put it in ice until we’re ready.”

She did, and then she got the DVD ready to go. By the time she was back in bed, he was sitting up, eyeing some smoked Gouda.

WHEN THE MOVIE WAS HALF-OVER, the tray was already on the dresser, they each had had some champagne, and Gwen was curled up in the warm cocoon of Paul’s arms. She listened more than watched, preferring to toy with the body so conveniently positioned for her pleasure. Her fingers sneaked through his dark hair, curling it, stroking it.

She also played with his nipples, using not just the pads of her fingers but her nails, her lips, her teeth, her breath.

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