“Do you want me to turn the air on?” Jason Innis asks…for the second time today.

“No really, I’m fine.” I’m wearing one of Katie’s summer dresses, white cotton with little blue and yellow flowers. Casual seemed like such a good idea yesterday, calm cool and relaxing. Not, as Katie insisted, because the colors would accent my blue eyes and blonde hair. Today, I’d rather be wearing inch thick wool or chain mail….woops. This blasted dress doesn’t make it as far down as my knees and has straps instead of sleves. So no, I’m not hot, I’m just flushed…I’m remembering how the Jason in my mind spooned up behind me last night to nibble my ear while reaching both arms around to rub his palms across my nipples. All air conditioning is going to do is make that worse..the last thing I need is to have those self same nipples pressing against my…

“So, you were saying….”

Add blush onto flush…mental note, ensure all makeup from here on out works well with red cheeks. “Oh, yes….I was saying that I liked the idea for a series, but that I thought Anders just wanted the one magazine spread.” My mind heads off on a safari through all the possible bits of my anatomy I’d want spread right now.

“Well, that’s what they asked for. And we can still do that. But when they asked for ‘young couple in a beautiful location’, well, I just couldn’t make up my mind last night. I mean, it’s all well and good to say they want to bring back the romantic vacation for the DINK/Singleton market…but we’re just going to show one setting. And that can’t encompass everyone’s definitions of a romantic break. One person might get hooked by an image of Paris while another won’t stop on the page unless it’s a beach..right? So here’s my thought” Jason opened his briefcase and started distributing sketches across the meeting table.


With just the two of us there, there was no reason not to use all the space. I swear, usually I’d be looking at the pictures…but the way his back and shoulders moved as he stretched across to distribute the pictures had me mesmerized. I had mentally inserted myself beween his body and the edge of the table…my mind was constructing its own version of how his body would feel pressing against mine, the edge of the table sharp against the back of my thighs, my back slowly rolling onto the cool wood surface as my legs came up to wrap around his hips. I got particularly stuck on the feel of his stiffening (of course) cock against the inside of my thigh, cradled in the V between my leg and my body….when I heard the by then inevitable…

“Are you sure you don’t want the air on?”

I swear I could hear a smile in his voice, but there was none on his face when my eyes shot up to it.

“No really, I’m fine.” I squeaked…and bent over to look at the pictures.

“These aren’t bad” I heard myself say….and I meant it, they weren’t. Not professional level art, but not the cringeworthy things that you get from most of the writing staff…those members of it who think they’ve got the “hard” part of the
job, anyway.

“My mother was an art teacher” I hear him say, right over my shoulder. I pinch my leg, HARD, to get the image of Jason flipping my skirt up and pressing his thigh between my legs out of my mind before it can get well and truly planted there. “They’re not anything like what we’ll use, I know…but they get the point across. I want to pitch a broader campaign to the meeting this afternoon. Instead of just a single ad showing a young couple on a trip, we have them meeting somewhere exciting. It appeals to the singles, and, if the first one’s successful…we can follow them on all sorts of trips as their relationship progresses.”

Something about that man’s voice. Deep yet light, dancing yet rich. Makes my spine tingle, my head spin, and my vocabulary untrustworthy. “Like the coffee thing,” is my brilliant contribution to the conversation.

“Yeah, the couple on the Folgers ads, exactly!”

“So where do we start?” I ask, taking my eyes off the pictures and turning around…thinking: We could start with the table, the wall, the chair, the floor…or I could just wrap my legs around your waist and hang on for dear life….

“Start?” Jason’s already turned around and is heading for the air conditioner…

“This couple…whatever we wind up naming them. Where do they meet?”

“The first one we do might also be the last one, so let’s make sure the setting will stand on its own. Jamaica? We’ll make it clear it’s a first meeting to leave open the possibility for an extended series.”

Which is the moment the words “extended series” filtered through my erotic haze…an extended series of ads…and I didn’t know if I should laugh or cry. In either case, I should definitely buy stock in Duracel.