the fantasy they might be good together as more than just friends?
“Don’t say no, Eric. I know you want me. Don’t you?” Did she look hopeful, or desperate? God, did it
matter?
“A favor…” He repeated the words as he dipped his head into the space between her neck and
shoulder. He took in the alluring scent of her skin and thought about planting his lips on the pulse point
below her jaw.
“I need you, Eric. I need you to make love to me tonight.”
“You’re a little drunk, aren’t you?” asked the good Eric Reynolds,
the corporate security consultant who
spent his days building computer firewalls and tweaking virus protection software. Drunk and horny ,
thought the bad Eric, the one who hated being the guy all the women turned to for moral support because
he was always honest and trustworthy.
Women liked bad boys. He’d been reminded of that time and time again when his girlfriends left him for
ex-cons, compulsive gamblers and rock musicians with coke habits.
Good guys finished last. That was his motto.
“I had one frozen margarita with the girls. I’m not drunk, but I took a cab here since Tara was driving.”
As she spoke, Lauren lowered her lips to his chest, to that little hollow at the base of his throat, and
licked him there. He groaned as his balls went tight.
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Instant hard-on. Bad Eric grabbed her ass and squeezed, pushing her pelvis against the growing bulge of
his erection.
Lauren smiled up at him, letting him know she had him right where she wanted him.
The good Eric demanded to know what brought this on. Lauren James was one of those nice girls. She
wasn’t loose or slutty. She didn’t bang every guy she met just for kicks. Therefore there had to be a
reason for her sudden…attack.
They’d met at one of Roxy’s legendary Christmas parties four years ago and, like ninety percent of the
women Eric met, she’d immediately turned to him for advice on how to deal with her current boyfriend.
The Neanderthal hadn’t wanted her to have any friends he hadn’t picked. She’d dumped the guy on
Eric’s advice, and they’d been friends ever since. Up until this moment, that meant Sunday afternoon
matinees, lunch when his job took him to see clients in her office building, and all the requisite birthday,