Entice - By Ella Frank Page 0,12

even give things another try. Not having any other interesting offers available, she hadn’t seen the harm in giving it one last shot, even though she had a rule about repeats. Never repeat bad words you hear, never repeat bad dates you had, and never ever repeat a bad sexual experience.

In all fairness, Paul hadn’t been bad at anything. He just never followed through. He’d told her over and over that he wanted to wait so it would be special. Wait for what? Marriage? It wasn’t like I was saving myself since those days were long gone. So, what was he waiting for?

Before she talked herself out of the date, she slicked her lips with gloss, tugged down the hem of her black dress, and made her way to the front door. Pulling it open, she found Paul standing with his back facing her.

He was dressed in a dark brown sports coat and cream-colored slacks. When he turned, his green eyes shined as he smiled at her, looking her over. She reciprocated, looking at the blue button-up shirt that was tucked neatly in at his waist. She finally pulled her gaze up to land on his.

“Paul, it’s so nice to see you again.” Reaching out her hands, she watched as he took them and squeezed her fingers.

“You, too, Shelly,” he told her as he moved into the condo. She turned away to grab her bag and coat as he said softly, “You look fantastic.”

Smiling over her shoulder at him, she took his hand in hers. “So do you. Ready to go dancing?”

He tensed a little, and Shelly got the impression that he was not looking forward to it at all. Ahh, prayers answered—a boring suit, a nice man, and a personality that I can predict. That’s what I want, right?

***

The music was pumping through the club and bodies were gyrating when Rachel dragged Josh through the doors. The dim lights were a welcome relief from the bright floodlights outside where they’d been waiting in line. His eyes scanned the sea of people, looking for his friend, but he was coming up empty. Man, I could use a beer, he thought as they pushed through the crowd. When they got to the bar, Rachel turned and rested her back against it.

“Man, I love this place!” she shouted over the music.

“Really?” he queried, looking at her as she scanned the crowd.

Josh was starting to get the impression that Rachel’s outlandish hair and outfits were all part of some kind of bigger picture that he and everybody else may be missing, and he wanted to see if she would confirm it. She turned her head, facing him, and grinned.

“Yeah, really.” She paused, and then looked back out at the dancing crowd with that same almost sad look on her face from the other day. Then, she brightened again and nodded as if confirming her first thought. “You can totally lose yourself here. I love it!”

Josh looked at her, smiling. Now, that statement is completely Rachel.

She was dressed in a tiny pink PVC tank top and leather pants tonight. She looked like a tiny little dominatrix that had been spray-painted with Pepto-Bismol.

The bartender came down and took their orders. Josh watched the crowd as they shifted and swayed to the throbbing of the music.

Rachel turned around when the bartender came back and grabbed her drink. Josh was about to ask when Mason and Lena were supposed to meet them when Rachel started waving her hand in the direction of the door. He turned around and that was when he saw her walk in.

Even from where he was standing, he could see every curve of her spectacular body, but that probably had something to do with the skintight black dress she’d painted on herself. She had her perfect blonde hair pulled up into a tight high ponytail. As she stepped forward through the crowd, he noticed her feet were flaunting a wicked pair of heels that looked so sharp they could be deadly.

Josh took a deep breath in, letting his eyes follow her naked legs up to the long stretch of creamy white thigh that was then cut off by the black dress. It hugged her thighs, hips, and all the smooth lines between before tightly clinging to her spectacular breasts. The sexy little dress ended in a halter fashion, held up by two strips of material tied around her neck.

The woman looks fucking amazing. No matter what his brain had told him the other