needed to know was whether he was involved with another woman. For her, adultery was taboo.
My name is Suzanne, she typed. I live in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada, and I’m single. How about you?
She clicked SEND before she could have second thoughts, then shut down her computer. “All right, Mouse, the keyboard’s all yours.”
As she tumbled back into bed, she wondered how caveman would react to her garbled message, such a peculiar mix of sexuality and practicality. Of outrageous69 and boring-girl. On Monday night, Jax got home from the office around eleven. He shared the apartment with Tod, a visual merchandiser—i.e., window dresser—at Saks Fifth Avenue, and Levi, an accountant with Rothstein Kass. One thing you had to say for him and his roommates: They worked in some of the classiest businesses in town.
Another thing you had to say: They weren’t exactly homemakers. He cleared Chinese takeout containers off the rickety coffee table in front of the wide-screen TV, and crammed the empties into the overflowing garbage bin under the kitchen sink. Then he opened the fridge door, and grinned. Someone had remembered to buy beer. He cracked open a can and headed through to his bedroom, where he stripped off his suit jacket and tie and glanced at his computer.
Since Saturday night, he’d monitored his new caveman e-mail account obsessively. By now he was figuring it wasn’t really his blonde. Still, he wished she’d reply, so he could stop wasting his time this way.
Oh, what the hell, just once more. No way would he get to sleep until he did.
And there she was.
He grew hard as he read her words. Yeah, he sure as hell remembered his fingers threading through her golden curls, teasing the moist, swollen flesh below. This time he ignored his hard-on. Instead, he began to type. Suzanne. What a perfect name for such a beautiful, sexy woman. My name is Jaxon. I’m single too. And as it turns out, we’re almost neighbors. I’m in San Francisco. It would be easy to come visit you—or you could come here, if you wanted. What was he doing? Wasn’t he the guy who never took time off work? And yet . . .
Come. God, I want to come again, with you. I want to hear you come, feel you come around me. To caress your lovely breasts, see the pleasure on your face as I touch you. Just the thought of it . . .
He stopped typing. Should he be saying this stuff? Would she be offended? No, of course not, not outrageous69. He resumed: . . . makes me hard. I want to taste you again, Suzanne. Everywhere . . .
He broke off again, so aroused he felt like he was going to burst.
He stared at the screen. A first draft. He should edit it; he always edited things before he sent them.
But that was the lawyer side of him. Tonight he was just a man. A horny man. Quickly he typed, Say you’ll see me. I want more sexy memories.
He clicked SEND and stared at the screen.
Suzanne. Her name was Suzanne.
Suzanne couldn’t get back to sleep. After an hour of trying, she flicked on the bedside light, tossed back the covers and again evicted Mouse from the keyboard.
Even knowing the odds were slim, Suzanne’s breath quickened as the computer started up. She accessed her outrageous69
account and found three new e-mails, but none were from caveman. Idly, she skimmed, shaking her head in bemusement. Cave sex sure seemed to turn a lot of guys’ cranks. Damn, she hadn’t cancelled the personals ad. She found the instructions Jenny had given her, and deleted her ad. Just as she was about to exit from e-mail, a message popped up on her screen. From caveman! She gripped the mouse with a shaking hand and clicked the message open. Jaxon. What a striking, unusual name. And he was single. Suzanne started to read on, when a thought occurred to her. Was he still on-line?
Hurriedly, she clicked REPLY, then typed, Are you there, Jaxon? and clicked SEND.
Then she went back to his message and read it, feeling her nipples bead. She pressed her legs
My name is Suzanne, she typed. I live in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada, and I’m single. How about you?
She clicked SEND before she could have second thoughts, then shut down her computer. “All right, Mouse, the keyboard’s all yours.”
As she tumbled back into bed, she wondered how caveman would react to her garbled message, such a peculiar mix of sexuality and practicality. Of outrageous69 and boring-girl. On Monday night, Jax got home from the office around eleven. He shared the apartment with Tod, a visual merchandiser—i.e., window dresser—at Saks Fifth Avenue, and Levi, an accountant with Rothstein Kass. One thing you had to say for him and his roommates: They worked in some of the classiest businesses in town.
Another thing you had to say: They weren’t exactly homemakers. He cleared Chinese takeout containers off the rickety coffee table in front of the wide-screen TV, and crammed the empties into the overflowing garbage bin under the kitchen sink. Then he opened the fridge door, and grinned. Someone had remembered to buy beer. He cracked open a can and headed through to his bedroom, where he stripped off his suit jacket and tie and glanced at his computer.
Since Saturday night, he’d monitored his new caveman e-mail account obsessively. By now he was figuring it wasn’t really his blonde. Still, he wished she’d reply, so he could stop wasting his time this way.
Oh, what the hell, just once more. No way would he get to sleep until he did.
And there she was.
He grew hard as he read her words. Yeah, he sure as hell remembered his fingers threading through her golden curls, teasing the moist, swollen flesh below. This time he ignored his hard-on. Instead, he began to type. Suzanne. What a perfect name for such a beautiful, sexy woman. My name is Jaxon. I’m single too. And as it turns out, we’re almost neighbors. I’m in San Francisco. It would be easy to come visit you—or you could come here, if you wanted. What was he doing? Wasn’t he the guy who never took time off work? And yet . . .
Come. God, I want to come again, with you. I want to hear you come, feel you come around me. To caress your lovely breasts, see the pleasure on your face as I touch you. Just the thought of it . . .
He stopped typing. Should he be saying this stuff? Would she be offended? No, of course not, not outrageous69. He resumed: . . . makes me hard. I want to taste you again, Suzanne. Everywhere . . .
He broke off again, so aroused he felt like he was going to burst.
He stared at the screen. A first draft. He should edit it; he always edited things before he sent them.
But that was the lawyer side of him. Tonight he was just a man. A horny man. Quickly he typed, Say you’ll see me. I want more sexy memories.
He clicked SEND and stared at the screen.
Suzanne. Her name was Suzanne.
Suzanne couldn’t get back to sleep. After an hour of trying, she flicked on the bedside light, tossed back the covers and again evicted Mouse from the keyboard.
Even knowing the odds were slim, Suzanne’s breath quickened as the computer started up. She accessed her outrageous69
account and found three new e-mails, but none were from caveman. Idly, she skimmed, shaking her head in bemusement. Cave sex sure seemed to turn a lot of guys’ cranks. Damn, she hadn’t cancelled the personals ad. She found the instructions Jenny had given her, and deleted her ad. Just as she was about to exit from e-mail, a message popped up on her screen. From caveman! She gripped the mouse with a shaking hand and clicked the message open. Jaxon. What a striking, unusual name. And he was single. Suzanne started to read on, when a thought occurred to her. Was he still on-line?
Hurriedly, she clicked REPLY, then typed, Are you there, Jaxon? and clicked SEND.
Then she went back to his message and read it, feeling her nipples bead. She pressed her legs
Similar Books
