Rock my world - By Cindi Myers Page 0,11

to take breaks,” she said. “I mean, you can get up and walk around.”

“Right. To go to the john. I guess I ought to be grateful for that.”

She stretched her arms over her head, a movement that brought her breasts into sharper focus against the flannel. “Well, I’m going to find a way to have a good time with this. I mean, how many people get paid to basically have fun in bed?”

There his mind went again, reading more into her words than she probably meant. He could certainly think of a few ways to have fun with her in bed…. He tried looking away again, but his gaze insisted on wandering back to her. She was unbuttoning her top now. “What are you doing?” he asked, alarmed.

“It’s a lot warmer in here than I thought.” She stripped off the shirt and tossed it aside, revealing a red tank top underneath.

Only when his vision blurred did he realize he’d stopped breathing. He turned his back to her. “Can we get some coffee over here? And some ice water.” If all else failed, he could dump the water in his lap.

“That was Maroon 5 with ‘This Love,’” she said, right on cue. “If you’re on your way into work this morning, stop by and say hi. The Hawk and I are broadcasting from Mattress Max’s Furniture Gallery at East Six and Wadsworth.”

“If you bring us a donation this morning, we’ve got free T-shirts and CDs to give away.” Adam checked his clipboard and saw that it was time for a plug for Mattress Max. “And while you’re here, try out Max’s own line of Therapedic bedding—the most comfortable mattress you’ll find anywhere.”

“This one certainly is comfortable.” Erica bounced up and down and grinned at him.

He couldn’t help but notice that the mattress wasn’t the only thing bouncing, and almost forgot his lines. The engineer hissed in his earphones, reminding him to avoid the broadcasting sin of dead air. He forced himself to focus on the clipboard. “Max is running a special right now. Buy a mattress during the K-Rock bed-in and he’ll throw in a frame and two Therapedic pillows absolutely free.”

“The pillows are definitely very comfy.” She smiled at him and beads of sweat popped out on his forehead. He’d have to talk to someone about getting a fan or something.

Was she deliberately flirting with him? Maybe she thought that was what was expected of her. Later, when they were off the air, he’d explain to her that she didn’t have to act that way with him. He wasn’t Naughty Nick. They would just do the show the way he always did, ask for donations and forget about all the flirting and sexy talk.

If only he could convince his body to do the same.

AT 9:00 THE MORNING show ended and Erica and Adam were off the air. Now their job was to talk to the people who stopped by to donate, take turns answering the phones for people who wanted to make pledges, and do the occasional live call-in throughout the day.

In between times they were free to take a break to eat or freshen up in the bathroom, though they weren’t supposed to get too far from the bed.

Erica watched as Adam signed autographs for a trio of smiling women. She didn’t really blame them for smiling. Dressed in rumpled pajamas, his hair tousled, he looked like a man who’d just rolled out of bed. And one who hadn’t spent his time there working or sleeping.

Flirting with him had come naturally. But then she’d decided to try turning up the heat a notch. Why not? There was no way he could pretend she was just another co-worker when they were so close together—both in nightclothes and in a bed. Why not take advantage of that to let him know how she really felt? And if she was lucky, one thing might lead to another and they’d never be “just friends” again.

She was busy reviewing the schedule on the clipboard when Carl stopped by. “How’s it going?” he asked.

“Good. How did I sound?”

“Great. You got everything you need here?”

Adam turned away from his admirers and joined them. “We could use a fan,” he said. “It’s too warm in here.”

Carl looked at Erica. “She said she was cold earlier.”

She coughed, recalling the excuse she’d made up for wearing the flannel. She wished now she’d packed sexier clothes. She’d had to settle for the tank top but it had served the purpose

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