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Hot In Here. Susan LyonsЧитать онлайн книгу.

Hot In Here - Susan  Lyons


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advantage. A couple of times before, she and one of the obligatory dates had pretended to keep on seeing each other. It was a good ploy, keeping both sets of parents happy while their kids could get on with their real lives.

      “I remember him,” she told her mom. “He was okay.” For a dorky midget. “Yeah, if he wants to go out, I’ll do it.”

      “Good. Friday night, then. I’ll call his mother.”

      Tongue-in-cheek, Jenny said, “Fine. I’m sure the two of you will think of some nice place for us to go. Just let me know.”

      Then, family obligations temporarily satisfied, she beat a quick retreat to the sanctuary of her room, where she could put on her headphones and replay the sound of her and Scott almost having sex.

      4

      This week the Awesome Foursome’s Monday night dinner was at the Fish House on the southwest side of Stanley Park. Jenny was early, so she had time to take the Jeep for a spin all the way around the park.

      She started at the north side by the Vancouver Rowing Club and then drove past the cannon that boomed each night at nine. As she passed Prospect Point, she thought life just didn’t get any better. Sunshine beamed down, an Arctic Monkeys CD was in her player, the scenery was gorgeous and—best of all—she had hot stories to tell the girls.

      Singing along to the music, she drove under the Lions Gate Bridge then past the female swimmer statue. Who was she anyhow, and had anyone ever done a story on her?

      She continued past Second Beach to the par-three golf course, the tennis courts, the lawn bowling and on to the parking lots by the Fish House. As she hopped out of the Jeep, her tummy gave an anticipatory rumble. Mmm, she was looking forward to seared ahi tuna. And a huge helping of those fabulous mashed potatoes!

      And she couldn’t wait to see her three best friends. They’d be looking at her in a whole different light by the time the evening was done. Yeah, it was time for Suze to hand over the sex-goddess crown.

      The Foursome had first met almost two years ago, when they’d all signed up for a yoga class. Turned out, none of them were that into it. After-class groans had led to giggles over coffee, some serious girl bonding over martinis and finally to weekly get-togethers. Four very different women—Jenny the only Chinese-Canadian—yet they were alike in the ways that counted. Like believing in the power of female friendship. And, Jenny grinned to herself, in the absolute necessity of discussing all things sexual in intimate detail. Man, were the girls going to get an earful tonight!

      As she approached the restaurant, she was almost skipping, she was so excited.

      The Fish House, a sprawling old building with green and white paint, lattices and verandas, sat nestled under leafy old trees and was surrounded by a lush sea of green grass. It looked serene, a perfect setting for white-haired ladies having afternoon tea. Not for twentysomethings sharing sexcapades.

      “Jen!” A voice hailed her from behind.

      She turned to see Ann climbing out of her cute red Miata convertible, a little graceless in her tight-skirted navy business suit and pumps. Jesus, was she wearing panty hose? In August?

      That girl was truly whipped. Screw being a lawyer, if this was what it took.

      Jenny, comfy in her flamingo-pink tank and white cotton capris, waited for her friend to join her. “Hey, office girl. Nice uniform, I don’t think.”

      Ann pulled off her jacket and rolled up the sleeves of her ivory shirt. “I have to go to the ladies’ room and ditch the panty hose. And slather on some sunscreen. I think my nose burned, just driving the couple of miles from the office.”

      An associate at a huge law firm, Ann spent her days, and a good part of her nights, in a smoky-glass office tower in the heart of downtown.

      Jenny inspected her nose. “Pink, and you have freckles coming out. Cute.”

      Ann rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but I’m aiming for professional. Look, I’ll join you all in a couple of minutes.”

      “Don’t dawdle,” Jenny told her, “or you’ll miss my firefighter stories.”

      Ann grabbed her arm. “You really did it? I thought you were kidding.”

      “Would I kid about sex?”

      “Hold on a sec.” Ann glanced around, handed Jenny her purse and jacket, then hitched up her skirt, reached under it, and wriggled deftly out of her panty hose. She stepped out of her pumps, peeled the stockings off her feet and then got back into her shoes. All in no more than ten seconds.

      “I’m impressed,” Jenny told her.

      “Amazing what a girl can do when she’s motivated. Now let’s get in there so you can spill the good stuff.”

      Suzanne and Rina had already snagged a table at the far end of the veranda and were sitting beside each other, facing the entrance. They waved when they saw Jenny and Ann.

      Suze was golden and glowing, her fiery hair and light tan set off by a vivid turquoise tank with a V-neck. Rina, who always dressed in flowing gypsy clothes, wore a loose white shirt in some gauzy fabric, and today’s earrings were a cascade of sparkly rhinestones.

      Jenny reached out a finger to touch one. “Pretty.”

      When Jenny sat down across from Suzanne, Suze peered at her closely.

      Jenny couldn’t hold back a grin of triumph.

      “You did!” Suze squealed. “Woohoo!”

      “I thought you were kidding,” Rina said.

      “What is this?” Jenny grumbled. “No one believed me? Come on, I’m no liar.” She paused. “Okay, except with my family, but that’s for their own good. What they don’t know won’t hurt them. Or me.” Keeping secrets from her folks had been a habit for so long, she didn’t think twice about it now.

      “No, you’re not a liar,” Ann said, “but you’ve been known to exaggerate. Remember telling us about the Korean guy, in the Jacuzzi? I honestly don’t believe he had a ten-inch dick.”

      “Okay, I’ll give you that one.” Jenny laughed. “No Korean man has a ten-inch dick. A firefighter, though…”

      “You saw it?” Rina demanded, then flushed. “Sorry, I mean, you really had sex with him?” She leaned forward, elbows on the table. “How? Where? What was it like? Is he as good as he looks?”

      Jenny grinned, heightening the anticipation. “Wine,” she demanded.

      Ann reached for the wine bottle that sat in a ceramic bucket. She filled Jenny’s glass with something golden and a bit fizzy, and topped up Suzanne’s and Rina’s glasses.

      Jenny took a sip of wine—yum, a hint of summer fruit, maybe peaches—as Ann filled her own glass then went through the familiar ritual of shaking a couple of pills from a bottle.

      Did Ann ever not have a tension headache?

      “Come on, Jen,” Suzanne prompted. “Tell us.”

      Jenny, still watching poor Ann, said, “Don’t forget the sunscreen.”

      “What? Oh, right.” Ann pulled a tube out of her bag, dabbed her face, then offered the sunscreen around.

      Fair-haired Suzanne took some, olive-skinned Rina didn’t, and Jenny, too, waved it away. “I never burn.” Then she giggled. “Now, there’s a lie. I did a whole lot of burning this weekend. I’ll tell you, I’ve never gotten so steamy with a guy before.”

      “I thought you were just going to interview him,” Rina said.

      “He got me hot.” Jenny shrugged. “The whole evening got me hot, but especially him and that dance number. So I figured, it’d be more fun if I put out the fire with a firefighter than a vibrator.”

      “Hey,


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