Private Confessions

“Devon’s been out of town and I’ve had to handle everything,” she added.

“No worries,” her father said. “I’m just putting on the potatoes. We won’t be eating for at least a half hour.”

“How is the Tyndale campaign coming?” her mother asked.

“Good. Logan seems pleased and I think we’ve got a solid shot at the account.”

She grabbed a wineglass from the counter and poured herself a glass of Bordeaux, ready to put the day behind her and relax in the company of her family. Despite their busy schedules, everyone still gathered twice a month for dinner with the folks. It was a ritual they’d shared since childhood.

Her parents both had hectic careers, her father, Phillip, an economics professor at U.C. Berkeley, and her mother, Monica, an executive for Sunwest Bank. But no matter how demanding their careers, her parents had always made sure the family sat down to a meal together at least once a week. The tradition had lasted through Trisha’s childhood, and even though the kids had grown and moved out, they all kept returning for the weekly meal that only recently had dropped back to twice a month.

Her parents had never insisted they make it, the dinners were simply an open invitation to whoever could come. But they always did. Her older sister, Cheryl, was a stay-at-home mom of two young toddlers and these dinners were her opportunity to get off her feet and let someone else do the cooking for a change.

Trisha’s younger brother, Mark, was still in college working toward a doctorate in psychology and he never turned down the chance to come home, laundry in tow.

For Trisha, the visits were her way of staying grounded, the frequent reminder of what she wanted from life. Watching her parents work together was her way of staying real, the scene before her reflecting everything she hoped to find in a marriage someday. Her mother and father loved cooking together and had perfected the task to an art. They bustled around the kitchen like two lovers in a dance and it was a symbol of how they shared their lives. Juggling careers and three children wasn’t an easy task, but Phillip and Monica Bain had always made it look easy, their deep respect for each other and unyielding camaraderie working together to make a success of their lives and their family.

They had become the litmus test Trisha used when evaluating a current lover. If a man didn’t treat her like her father treated her mother, he wasn’t long in the arms of Trisha Bain. Though she admitted her parents were a hard act to follow, she always believed she could find that special someone who could work with her through life like her parents worked together.

Like she and Logan did at the office.

She blinked away the errant thought, insisting on keeping that subject on the shelf while she enjoyed dinner with her family.

“So, you’re just in time to help me,” Mark said as Cheryl took a seat at the bar.

“Help with what?” she asked.

“Valentine’s Day is coming up and I need some ideas on what to get Grace.”

“Getting serious about Grace, are we?” Monica asked as she snapped peas into a large glass bowl.

“Maybe. I’m not ready for the altar, but I think a woman who can handle me through finals deserves something nice.”

Cheryl chuckled. “She deserves sainthood.”

“Okay, so short of that, what should I get her?”

“That’s easy. Diamonds and gold.”

“I said I’m not ready for the altar.”

“I was thinking necklace, idiot.”

Mark mulled over the suggestion. “What do you think, Mom?”

“A necklace would be nice, or maybe a bracelet.”

He turned to Trisha. “Anyone give you jewelry for Valentine’s Day?”

Trisha tried to remember getting anything on Valentine’s Day, but none of her relationships seemed to make it to that level. Somehow, before things got serious, she’d always found some sort of deal breaker in a man that nixed their future together—a thought that left her wondering about the choices she’d made in the past.

She considered the question. “No jewelry, but Hal had taken me for a motorcycle ride up the coast. That was kind of sweet. He’d told me to bring my camera and we’d stop and shoot some landscapes along the way.”

Trisha had a passion for nature photography, and she’d remembered thinking how sweet it was that Hal had considered her hobby when planning their day.

“Although,” she recalled, “it didn’t turn out the way I’d hoped.”

“God, I remember that.” Cheryl chuckled. “You ended up in some dingy bar, didn’t you?”

“The place was a dive. I spent the whole time worrying my camera would get stolen.”

“What were you doing with that guy?” Cheryl asked. “He was so not you.”

Trisha took a sip of her wine. “I fell for his body and forgot there was a personality inside.”

“He was hot,” Cheryl agreed. “Tell me, is it true what they say about the size of a man’s hands? That guy had some big hands.”

“I’m not hearing this,” their father proclaimed.

Cheryl rolled her eyes. “Come on, Dad, we’re grown women. How do you think you ended up with two grandchildren?”

Phillip gasped and jokingly turned to his wife. “You told me that was divine intervention!”

“It was, honey.” Monica winked. “Cheryl’s just pulling your leg.”

“Can we get back to gift ideas?” Mark asked, that baby-brother whine still evident in his voice at the age of twenty-five.

“I told you,” Cheryl said. “Women are easy. Buy her a necklace. Grace will love it. Men are the hard ones to buy for. I never know what to get Steve.” She looked at their father. “Dad, what was the best Valentine’s present Mom ever gave you?”

“That’s easy. I got a lovely handmade card telling me we were going to have a baby. And eight months later, you were born.”

“Seven,” Monica said. “Remember? All my babies were early.”

Phillip chuckled. “You almost delivered Trisha in the middle of a business meeting. I remember the nurses saying you were the best-dressed screaming woman they’d ever seen.”

Monica groaned. “That was awful. My water broke right in the middle of a roomful of bankers.”

“If you ask me,” Mark chimed in, “I think Trisha just wanted to join the meeting.”

“I’m so sure,” Trisha scoffed.

“Get real. You were born in a business suit and your career is your red-hot lover. You’ve always been that way.”

Had she? Admittedly, she’d always aspired to be like her mother, showing up at dance recitals in those sharp business suits and her hair twisted in a perfect French roll. Trisha had been so proud to show her off, and at a very young age, had aspired to be just like her.

But was that the path she was on? Looking around the room, she realized she was the only one in the family who hadn’t found a serious relationship. Even her little brother had stumbled across that someone special, while Trisha had put her career before everything.

Is that what she really wanted?

Watching her parents together, the answer was a resounding no. Their careers were only a part of their lives, not the sum of it, and Trisha wondered if she’d been too focused on first things first. Admittedly, a woman didn’t make vice president at her age without making her job a priority. But that wasn’t what she’d wanted and the whole issue had her rethinking her priorities.

Her mother hadn’t become an executive until all the children were grown. For most of their lives, she’d just been a branch manager, a job that required little travel and half the responsibility she shouldered now. And as if to make it worse, Trisha had chosen advertising, a career with sharp deadlines and plenty of extra hours. Maybe the VP prospect wasn’t the greatest idea. Not only would it up the ante on the pressures at work, but the Tyndale account would have her on the road for weeks on end.

No wonder Logan had been so concerned about her home life. Maybe he’d seen what she hadn’t—that she’d set aside everything for a fast path to the top, and the thought that it concerned him left an ache in her heart. It was just another reason she needed a man like him, someone who could cut through the fog and remind her that life was about more than work and business.

And if she wanted that life, maybe she would need to set the VP job aside and look for work at another agency. Staying focused on what she wanted was hard enough without pining over a man she couldn’t have. Between her tendency to put her career first and this unending lust for her boss, she was blending a cocktail of misery that she might later regret.

“Mark, don’t be so hard on your sister,” their mother said.

“No, Mom,” Trisha replied. “I think that’s exactly what I needed to hear.”

3

Daily Love Horoscope for Pisces

Your usual intuitive nature is more analytical than normal today making this an ideal time to assess your romantic prospects. Consider all your options, take the ones that work for you and don’t be afraid to toss the ones that don’t.

“TAKE ME somewhere tropical.”

The words on the screen left Logan intrigued. Scorpio63 always preferred office fantasies, which was fine by him. When it came to Scorpio, he’d follow her anywhere she wanted to go. But the idea of a clear blue ocean, sparkling white sand and a warm salty breeze sounded darn good, too, just proving that Scorpio63 was an endless well of surprises.

“Mmm, I’m picturing you topless in a sapphire-blue thong,” he typed, and clicked Send.

“I’ve just come from the beach. My hair is wet. Droplets of water trickle down my back. As I step through the hotel suite, I toss away my bikini top. It was wet and the water cools on my skin as I cross the air-conditioned room. My breasts are tight and firm, dotted with goose bumps and the cold air hardens my nipples.

“It’s chilly in the room. I want to warm up, so I step onto the terrace and lean against the railing of the balcony, letting the warm breeze melt away the chill.”

This was good, he thought as a layer of warmth spread throughout his body.

“You didn’t see me enter the room,” he typed. “You thought I was still in town on business, but the meeting ended early. I’ve just come from a swim in the pool and I’m naked except for the towel draped around my waist.”

“I can sense you behind me, standing in the doorway to the balcony. A soft wind blows, I can smell the chlorine in your hair. It smells sharp, but fresh.”

“The sight of your ass makes me hard. It’s bare except for the band of blue fabric separating those silky cheeks. Water trickles down your back and trails into the crease. I want to be there, too.”

And, oh, did he ever. He closed his eyes and played the scene over in his mind, causing a wave of heat to spill through his veins and harden his loin. He raised his hands to the keyboard about to add more when Scorpio’s words rolled onto the screen.

“I’m leaning against the railing. The warm air feels good against my skin, but the feel of your hands gently covering my breasts feels better. Your lips begin to suckle the nape of my neck and I shiver from your touch.”

The image raised a tent in his sweats as he sank back into his leather den chair and let Scorpio take control.

“Your fingers pinch my nipples and the sensation snatches my breath. I hear your towel whoosh to the floor as it pools around our feet. While your hands continue to tease me, I feel your hard shaft against my back. It’s so big, so ready. I step my feet apart, so you can stroke your length between my thighs.”

Man, why hadn’t they left the office before?

As the pressure stiffened his cock, he joined in. “I release my hands from your breasts and smooth them down your waist until my thumbs tug against your thong. I latch on and pull the fabric down your legs. You kick it off your feet, and while I’m bent, I see your fleshy ass in my face and I can’t help but take a bite. I bring a finger to your sex and nearly come when I feel the slick heat, pulsing, ready for me.”

“I want you, Pisces. I want you to fill me from behind while I feel the breeze against my face. The air is getting hot and beads of sweat are glistening on my skin. My breath is heavy. I can feel the heat from your lungs as you clasp your mouth to my shoulder and nibble on my skin. I feel pain and pleasure all at the same time and it sears heat between my thighs.”

“Scorpio, you’re making me hard. My cock is so stiff and I ache to get inside you. I’m stroking it in the cleavage of your ass, but it’s not enough. I need that slick heat of your core.”

Logan grew harder, ready to put some action into this fantasy they’d started, but Scorpio took the reins.

“I grasp the railing. Your hands clasp my waist. You’re tall. You have to bend to place your cock between my thighs. My back is arched, my ass is pressing against your waist, waiting for you to take me.

“Are you ready, Pisces?”

He stared at the words on the screen, not quite believing what he was seeing. Scorpio had never been this bold before and he quickly began to wonder what she had in store for him.

He raised a hand to the keyboard and typed, “Yes.”

“You guide your cock to my entrance, and in one quick motion, you thrust inside, lifting my hips as you stand erect, pulling my feet from the ground.”

Damn. The blood rushed to his cock, bringing a searing ache between his legs. His mouth went arid, the room grew hot and his heart raced as he waited to see what she’d do next.

“My legs dangle at your sides and you wrap your hands around my thighs, using your fingers to tease between my folds. I’m at your mercy, Pisces. I wiggle against you, but in this position, I have nowhere to go. I’ve surrendered control and all I can do is watch the waves of the ocean and feel the pleasure you bring.”

Logan swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d never seen Scorpio so hot, so commanding, and her words sent sparks through his chest, speeding his pulse. Once again, he raised a hand to the keyboard, ready to take over the fantasy, and once again, Scorpio yanked it back.

“You’re holding me with your stiff length, caressing your fingers between my thighs. In this position, I’m tight. You can’t stroke inside me. You can only go deeper, using the weight of my body to sink farther inside.”

A sharp bolt swelled his already throbbing cock. They hadn’t done anything like this before and he quickly decided he liked it.

“I’m gasping, fighting for breath, Pisces. You’re deep inside me, but I want more. I want you to thrust harder, faster.”

“You cup your hands around my sex and heave into me. I cry out and my cries are a mix of ecstasy and awe. I clamp tight around you, the muscles between my legs are the only muscles I control and I beg you to use that spot to make me come.”

Logan’s breath grew short, his hardness ached beyond anything he’d ever known, and with Scorpio at the helm, he conceded to reach into his sweats and pleasure himself into release.

“Your fingers brush against my clit while you thrust against me from behind. You can feel me growing in your hand, just like your cock is growing inside me.”

Oh, heaven help me. He grabbed a towel and quickened the stroke of his hand.

“Sweat drips off your forehead and trickles down my back. My breathing has turned to heavy pants, each exhale mixed with a pleading cry. I’m close to the edge, Pisces. I’m ready, and this time, the orgasm is going to tear us apart.”

That was an understatement.

“You’re clasping your fingers over me, taking me hard and fast. My legs sway at your sides as you thrust against me. My hands clamp tightly to the railing, my cries are growing louder and with one final sweep, I gulp in air and clamp tight around your shaft. My body stiffens, my knees bend and my feet curl around your legs. The orgasm is ripping through me, fisting around you so tightly, you can’t pull back. I’m pulsing against your finger and you hear me exhale your name in a deep cry that echoes down the deserted beach below us.”

Logan stared at the screen as he neared the edge of climax, slowing his stroke to prolong the sensation. Never before had Scorpio turned him this hard, this fast, and he wondered what had happened to release this sexy siren.

“I buckle against you. I want you to pull your fingers from between my folds. The sensation is too severe. But with each brush of your finger, I clamp you, massaging your cock, sucking it in to the point where you’re about to explode.

“You cup your hand over me and squeeze until I cry out again, and with one more thrust, you burst, filling me, relieving us both.”

Logan closed his eyes as a heavy grunt escaped his chest with the orgasm ripping through him, curving his back, sucking the wind from his lungs. Through the rushing release, he could barely read the words on the screen.

“You’re bucking against me. You’ve lost control and now my knees are scraping against the hard wood of the railing. You pull your fingers from between my legs and clamp your hands to my hips, pulling me farther from the ground, pushing my body against the rail as you let go inside me.”

His heart beating wildly, he quickened his stroke and pumped the last of his climax—a climax that seemed to never end—until finally, his arms fell limp at his sides.

“My chin falls to my chest and my hair splays over the railing. You press your lips to my back and slip from my core, pull me into your arms and carry me to the bed. My sex still throbs. You stretch your body out next to mine and we rest on the bed as the warm ocean breeze flutters against the sheer curtains and dances across the room.”

Logan had no reply. He didn’t know what to do. This was the most intense session he’d ever had with Scorpio. He’d never seen her so filled with fire and his heart ached more than ever to know who she really was.

Oh, if only Scorpio was a woman who he could touch and explore in the flesh instead of through the cold keys of his computer. But a side of him didn’t want to lose the fantasy woman. For the last few months, Scorpio63 had been the one woman he could truly count on, truly trust, and despite his desire to taste her for real, he didn’t want to ruin what they’d created.

He raised a limp hand to the keyboard.

“Scorpio,” he typed.

“Yes, Pisces?”

“You’re amazing.”

There was a short pause before the words appeared on the screen. “Tonight is for you, Pisces. It’s our special tropical retreat. A secret place where just the two of us can go.”

“I like that, Scorpio.”

“Good night, Pisces.”

He raised his fingers to the keyboard, wanting to type the words that would keep her with him for a while longer. Often, they’d shared their thoughts and feelings before or after sex, and tonight, he wanted more. But Scorpio was cutting out, possibly because she had to, so he reluctantly let her go.

“Good night, sweetheart,” he typed. “And remember, whenever you need me, I’m just a click away.”

He pushed back from his desk and stepped through his flat on the waters of San Francisco’s marina to soak in the early evening scenery. The late January skies were unusually clear tonight, giving him a spectacular view of the bay that stretched past Alcatraz to the shores of Marin beyond. A lone jogger huffed along the Marina Green, his breath coming out as fog in the chilly night air. Beyond him, a vast cargo ship inched along the water on its way to the Oakland Harbor.

This was the view he paid handsomely for and he wished he were enjoying it with Scorpio in his arms instead of standing here alone.

He’d almost asked her for her name tonight, and if she’d given him time, he might have. But his better judgment had kept him silent. LoveSigns.com wasn’t a matchmaking site. The advertising was fully directed at anonymity, knowing the less couples knew about each other, the more freedom they’d have to express their sexual fantasies. And that’s what LoveSigns. com was all about. Fantasy. There were plenty of dating services for people looking for a mate. This site was marketed as purely entertainment, a place for people to go when they wanted to escape reality and relish in a thrill.

Though Logan hadn’t been looking for fantasies, he knew other subscribers were and given that Scorpio had never suggested sharing information, he was almost certain she wasn’t looking for anything more.

Moving from the large bay window, he grabbed his cell phone and turned it on to check messages, finding only one. His brother, Dane, had called twenty minutes earlier, and Logan dialed the code to hear the message.

“Hey, where are you? I’m dying here! Sonja’s been gone three days and I’m crawling out of my skin. You said you’d be home tonight. Call me. I’m bored. I need to get out of this house and I can’t find a solitary soul to hang out with. You’re my last resort.”

His last resort?

Logan dialed the number and waited for Dane to answer.

“Hello?”

“Nice to know I’m so high on your list of priorities,” he said flatly.

“Huh?”

Logan grinned. “Never mind. What do you want to do?”

“There’s open gym at the club tonight. Shoot some hoops? Loser buys beers.”

He looked at his watch. It was still early, and sitting here thinking about his love life didn’t sound like a plan. Between Scorpio and Trisha, he’d managed to work himself into a mood and beating his brother on the basketball court usually did wonders to lift his spirits.

“You’re on. I’ll meet you there in fifteen minutes?”

“Make it ten.”

“YOUR GAME WAS OFF tonight,” Dane said, sipping a beer at O’Malley’s, an Irish pub on Geary that was close to the gym Logan and Dane belonged to. “I actually won.”

“I’m feeling generous, figured I’d buy the beer this evening. Besides, you sounded pretty pathetic on the phone. I decided you didn’t need any more humiliation.” He slugged back a gulp of his pale ale and asked, “So what’s up? You said Sonja’s out of town?”

“She’s in Italy doing a shoot. And before that, she’d just spent a week down south.” Dane shook his head. “This schedule of hers is killing me. I may need to call in reinforcements or find someone who doesn’t travel so damn much.” He looked at his brother with all seriousness. “Don’t ever date a fashion model.”

Logan didn’t intend to, discovering after his divorce that the women in Dane’s address book definitely weren’t his type.

He glanced at his brother and asked, “Have you ever thought about finding a nice local girl and settling down?”

“No.”

Dane made the comment without the slightest flinch or hesitation, and Logan knew he’d asked a stupid question. His little brother was a consummate playboy with a black book full of beautiful women who preferred their men fast and noncommittal. Logan couldn’t understand the lifestyle. When it came to Dane’s type, the sex might be fun for a minute, but the moment you wanted to talk about something deeper than the weather, you got nothing but air.

To Logan, women were a package that included a body and a brain, and he’d never been able to appreciate the former if it wasn’t accompanied by the latter.

The thought brought him back to Trisha. Why the hell couldn’t she have been his real estate agent or dry cleaner instead of his employee? The hassle—he didn’t need, he’d just gotten past his divorce, restored his business and his personal life from the shambles they had become. He’d lived a life of celibacy for some time and that was quickly running cold. He was ready to seek out someone who might be able to offer a second chance.

And the first woman to tempt him had to be the ultimate in forbidden fruit.

How was that for fate?

“I’m fine,” Dane insisted. “You’re the one who needs help with the opposite sex.” He leaned back and propped his feet on an empty chair, giving him a better view of the bar and the dozen or so men and women sharing drinks over darts and pool. Dane was perpetually on the prowl.

“So have you still opted out of the dating game, or are you finally coming to your senses?” he added.