Regina Sommers was not having a good day. She was supposed to be on her way to Yosemite for a four day getaway with Sam, her long term boyfriend. Instead she found herself still in Los Angeles--dumped, miserable, and sitting in a bar at four in the afternoon, trying to drown her sorrows in Long Island Iced Teas. And just when she thought her day couldn't get any worse she ended up making a total fool of herself in front of the bar/restaurant's owner, Jack Caper.
Jack was very nice, very hot, and--strangely enough--very invested in Reggie's woes. He suggested "sex therapy" to help Reggie get over her asshole ex-boyfriend. Was this simply the offer of an opportunistic player, or could there be something deeper behind Jack's interest in her?
Excerpt:
"Sex-therapy," Reggie said, voice bone dry. "Literally."
He shrugged. "Why not?"
She snorted. "That sounds like so much--" Bullshit. But suddenly her brain caught up with her mouth and stopped it. Because why not? So what if it was bullshit? It didn't mean it wouldn't help her get her game back, so to speak. Help her find out who she was now post-Sam-the-asshole, help her rediscover herself--as cheesy as that sounded. Could it end badly? Yes of course. But as Reggie considered the gorgeous man in front of her, she was honest enough with herself to admit that she didn't care if she cried later. At least she'll be having fun now. "So we'll schedule weekly sex appointments to work on my issues?" she asked, one brow raised.
"Or as often as you'd like," he confirmed. Reggie wasn’t stupid enough to believe that this was going to be anything more than a fun night or two, but whatever. She was still willing to give this a shot.
She grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. "Come here," she said, and opened her arms to him.
Jack was very nice, very hot, and--strangely enough--very invested in Reggie's woes. He suggested "sex therapy" to help Reggie get over her asshole ex-boyfriend. Was this simply the offer of an opportunistic player, or could there be something deeper behind Jack's interest in her?
Excerpt:
"Sex-therapy," Reggie said, voice bone dry. "Literally."
He shrugged. "Why not?"
She snorted. "That sounds like so much--" Bullshit. But suddenly her brain caught up with her mouth and stopped it. Because why not? So what if it was bullshit? It didn't mean it wouldn't help her get her game back, so to speak. Help her find out who she was now post-Sam-the-asshole, help her rediscover herself--as cheesy as that sounded. Could it end badly? Yes of course. But as Reggie considered the gorgeous man in front of her, she was honest enough with herself to admit that she didn't care if she cried later. At least she'll be having fun now. "So we'll schedule weekly sex appointments to work on my issues?" she asked, one brow raised.
"Or as often as you'd like," he confirmed. Reggie wasn’t stupid enough to believe that this was going to be anything more than a fun night or two, but whatever. She was still willing to give this a shot.
She grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. "Come here," she said, and opened her arms to him.
