Accidental Sex Goddess (2 page)

“How are Chicago’s favorite losers?” Mark asked when he made it to them.

“Good,” Ben said. “How’s Chicago’s favorite asshole?”

Mark grinned. “Oversexed, overfed, and overpaid. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He glanced around. “What are we drinking tonight?”

Mark Hawk, ladies and gentlemen. Highest paid morning drive-time radio host in the Midwest, and still the cheapest son-of-a-bitch around
.

“We’ve got a pitcher over there.” Luke waved to the four-top by the pool table. “Help yourself.” Luke typically let them drink for free at his bar, but tonight Mark’s assumption dug under Ben’s skin.

“Is it just us guys tonight?” Mark asked, pouring himself a beer.

“Reese is at Sex Goddess, Inc.,” Luke said with a meaningful wriggle of his brow. “She’ll join us later.”

Mark gaped, so Ben tossed him a bone. “For the masquerade ball.”
Which you’d know if you ever listened to anyone but yourself
. When Mark still blinked in confusion, Ben took pity on him, “Sex Goddess, Inc. might sponsor WJRK’s Charity Masquerade Ball.”

“Reese Regan? At Sex Goddess, Inc.?” Grinning, Mark shoved his fingers in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Good girl turns bad. Why do I like the sound of that so much?”

Ben gritted his teeth. “Because you’re a shallow fuck.”

Mark chuckled and raised his glass to Ben before taking a long drink.

The testosterone around the pool table shifted focus as a tiny blonde wandered over from the bar. She wore tight jeans and a tank that claimed she was TEAM EDWARD-AND-JACOB SANDWICH.

Mark took her in—big blond hair, tight clothes, strappy heels.

“Are you The Hawk?” The blonde gave Mark a shameless once-over.

“Who wants to know?” Mark asked.

The blonde giggled and flipped her hair. “
I
do.”

Raking his gaze over her, Mark made an appreciative sound at the back of his throat. The blonde stuck her chest out a little more in response. “Sweet thing, you’d make a weaker man drop to his knees.”

“Maybe you’re not as strong as you think.” Braver now, the blonde crooked her finger through Mark’s belt loop and tugged him toward her. “Let me buy you a drink?”

The smile on Mark’s face grew his gaze shifted to someone else. He took a step back, plucking the blonde’s hands off his clothes.

Ben swiveled his attention to see Reese. Wavy locks of dark hair had escaped the clip at the back of her neck. Her skirt suit hid every curve Ben had been trying to forget.

When she found their group, she immediately locked eyes with Mark, staring at him like a star-struck fangirl.

Mark winked at Reese over the blonde’s head. “Can’t do it,” he said to the blonde. “The sweetest, most beautiful girl in the city just walked in the door.”

Reese’s cheeks grew red and that insecure half-smile tugged at her mouth.

Mark abandoned the blonde and extended his hand for Reese, who sunk her teeth into her bottom lip.

Ben turned away, lava churning in his gut. He couldn’t watch this shit. Reese desperately smitten by Mark. Mark leading her on every chance he got.

Mark wrapped his arms around Reese’s shoulders. “Seeing you always makes me smile.”

“Said the spider to the fly,” Ben grumbled.

“You gonna take that shot or not?” Luke asked, sizing up the table.

Ben sighed. “Eight ball, corner pocket.” No need to brainstorm more reasons to keep his Reese-related thoughts in-check, not while Reese stood so close making eyes at Reason Three.

“How’s the beer treating you?” Reese dropped her purse on their table and came around to stand by Ben. Her hip brushed his and she grinned at him. Ben tensed, side-stepping to put some space between their bodies.

As he narrowed his eyes to line up the shot, Reese closed the distance between them again, oblivious. Ben drew back his stick. As he took the shot, she whispered, “If Mark keeps eyeing me like that, he’s going to trick me into thinking a girl like me could actually stand a chance.”

The black ball rolled toward the corner pocket then ricocheted. Ben winced.

Reason Three: Only a masochist would go after a girl who wanted his brother.

CHAPTER TWO

Reese was salivating. If she didn’t stop staring at Mark and start swallowing soon, Luke’s loyal patrons were going to drown in the flash flood.

Reese sunk her teeth into her bottom lip as she watched Mark line up a shot. The man was a walking advertisement for testosterone. Broad shoulders, dark eyes, that deep voice that she’d—maybe, once or twice—imagined saying some very dirty things to her. Mark might carry on with his asshole persona from on his shock jock radio show to keep up appearances, but in private, he was sweet, self-deprecating, and charming. Not to mention Oh. My. God. Sexy.

Seriously. Men like Mark should come with warning labels.

Caution: Prolonged exposure to this smokin’ bod will leave you hot and bothered
.

Ben nudged her and handed her his phone.

Ripping her gaze away from Chicago’s Most Eligible Bachelor, she frowned at Ben. “What’s that for?”

He nodded at Mark. “Thought you’d like to take a picture.”

She snorted and punched Ben’s arm, her cheeks warming. “I can’t help it. He’s eye candy.”

Ben grunted.

No, not eye candy, she mentally corrected. The Hawk was sex personified and stood for everything she wanted since Lance left her last spring. Years ago, as a sensible young woman, Mark was exactly the kind of man she steered clear of. Now, as a recovering doormat, he was the only kind she wanted.

“How was the meeting?” Ben asked.

“Mortifying.”

“In what way?” He tilted his glass to his lips.

“She wants me to take Sex Goddess 101.”

Ben choked on his beer. “She wants
you
to take Slut Hotness 101?”

Reese rolled her eyes at the guys’ nickname for the program that was, perhaps, more infamous than famous. “I know, ridiculous, right?”

On the other side of the pool table, Mark caught her gaze and winked. Lord have mercy, the man was delicious. It wasn’t like she wanted to be his girlfriend, but she’d led a really good, decent life, and
just once
she’d like a man like Mark to take her home and use her for hot, dirty, not-gonna-call-you-in-the-morning, drunken sex.

Maybe then women like Halie McCormack wouldn’t bring up her sex life in the middle of a business meeting.

Ben was staring at her as if waiting for her to speak.

Reese cringed. “Sorry. What’d you say?”

Ben frowned. “I asked if you were going to do it. The program?”

Laughter burst from her mouth, and then bubbled up again and again until she was breathless. Luke and Mark were staring now, so she did her best to compose herself.

“Oh, God. You’re hilarious.”

Luke shook his head and racked the balls for a new game. “Reese, you joining us for trivia tomorrow night?”

“I can’t, Luke. Sorry.”

“Why not?” Ben asked.

Reese grabbed avoided eye contact. “No reason,” she mumbled.

“Tell us,” the men chorused.

“I have a date,” she said quickly. She should have concocted a cover story ahead of time. Not that it would have made a difference. She was the world’s worst liar.

“Who’s the lucky guy?” Luke asked, stepping closer.

Ben narrowed in on her with that piercing gaze.

“Does he deserve a sweet girl like you?” Mark asked.

“Don’t know,” she mumbled, suddenly very interested in her nails.
Hmm.
That one was short and that one was shorter.
Fascinating
.

Luke chuckled. “You’re going on a blind date?”

Reese did her best to keep her expression blank. How had she let her love life become so pathetic that having a date made headlines among her friends? And worse, so pathetic she’d resorted to a blind date?

“Think you’ll get lucky?” Mark asked.

Ben didn’t say anything, but she could feel his eyes on her. He wanted the scoop. That was generally how that whole “best friend” thing worked, but she didn’t want him to know, not when he’d been witness to her
last
blind date.

“Just wish me luck,” but she was less concerned about having luck and more concerned about getting lucky.

Halie was right about one thing: She was overdue.

***

“Good morning, Sex Goddess.”

Reese settled into a seat across from Masey. “That’s me,” she said, waving a hand at her workout clothes. “Had to fight the men off with a stick on my way here.”

Masey grinned. “I don’t doubt it.” She flashed a smile over her shoulder to the suit paying for his drink.

At the counter, the man reached for his latte without taking his eyes off Masey. Just as he winked at her, he spilled the drink all over the barista.

Reese shook her head. Masey’s sweet smile, blond hair, and Marilyn Monroe curves had that effect on men. Sure, maybe that kind of attention became tedious after awhile, but Reese wouldn’t mind a taste of it.

“He’s cute, don’t you think?”

Reese snorted. “Sure. If you like those clean-cut, athletic types with good jobs and amazing smiles.”

Masey grinned. “Maybe I’m the one who should be enrolling in Halie’s program. She’s all about ditching the losers and finding good men. Maybe I could find a guy who doesn’t want me just because he thinks I’m easy.”

“Oh, Mase.”

Mason may have had more than her share of male attention, but she had a pretty bad track record of ending up with guys who wanted nothing from her but sex.

“You know, maybe you should go out with Ben,” Reese said. “You’re totally his type, and you know he’s no loser.”

Masey sipped her tea and avoided Reese’s eyes.

“What?”

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” She waved away the subject. “Maybe we could do the program together. What do you think?”

“You go right ahead. I’ll just watch.”

“Yeah, it’s probably not all it’s chalked up to be.”

“You’re already a goddess,” Reese said. “You just need to believe you deserve better.”

A barista changed the station of the radio overhead.

“You’re listening to WJRK,
The Jerk!
”

Masey grinned. “Maybe Sex Goddess 101 would give you the courage to go after Chicago’s most eligible bachelor.”

Reese looked at the ceiling where the intro to Mark Hawk’s nationally syndicated shock jock radio show played. “I doubt Halie McCormack, founder of All Things Feminine Power, would approve of The Hawk.”

“So I was at a friend’s bar last night,” Mark was saying to his co-host, “and you wouldn’t have believed all the great pieces of ass gathered in there—just waiting to be plucked.”

“Ah, yes, the end of fall brings the young ones back to college, and back to our bars. Sweet, nubile young things. Insecure and desperate for approval.”

“God bless them, every one,” Mark said.

Masey cringed and Reese shrugged. She’d known Mark long enough to know that The Hawk, his radio show persona, was different than the real man. She’d learned to appreciate his politically incorrect mouth.

“I should get going.” Reese took another sip of her latte while Mark waxed poetic about barely-legals in tight designer jeans. “I have a meeting with some of the bigwigs at the station this afternoon, and I have a long list of things I need to get done before then.”

“A meeting? Think it’s about a promotion?”

Reese bit back a smile. “I’m hoping, you know? I have been there for six years now, and my events are always strong. Besides, my current salary doesn’t exactly lend itself to easy living.”

Wincing, Masey said, “I feel guilty for letting you buy that condo. I just never thought you and Lance would split.”

Me either.
“Don’t give it another thought. I’m a big girl, and I take responsibility for my own decisions.”

“Well, let me know if you want to sell. I don’t think you’d make much, but the market is recovering and you could get what you paid at least.”

Reese shook her head. She liked her condo. Liked that it was
hers.
Liked that it was in the same complex as her sister and niece. “Let’s just wait and see what this meeting holds.”

They gathered their things and shimmied their way to the exit through the under-caffeinated masses. The second the door opened, the heat and humidity smacked her in the face, wrapping its damp fingers around her skin and seeping into her clothes. Summer was hanging on for dear life, and autumn couldn’t come soon enough.

“Have a good one,” Reese said to Masey, hefting her briefcase on her shoulder.

“Chin up, soldier,” Masey said. “I bet it’s a promotion.”

***

Every woman should get the chance to look her ex in the eye after her heart has mended. Every woman should get the chance to meet his gaze knowing her life was better without him, knowing she’d survived his heartbreaking, world-spinning asshattery and come out on top. In said scenario, the girl should be wearing a sexy little black number and have a gorgeous man on her arm.

Reese Regan had envisioned such a moment many times, and as she found herself living it, every essential element was missing. Even the weather was working against her.

“Reese? Is that you?”

Seeing no way out of it, she slowly turned and shielded her eyes from the rain. “Hi, Lance.”

Standing under an oversized umbrella, he sported gym shorts and tennis shoes, probably having emerged from the fitness center several yards away. He gave her a once-over, something like triumph gleaming in his eyes.

“Lose your umbrella?”

Jerk.
She smiled sweetly. “No, Lance. I was trying to save on my water bill by showering in the rain.”

He blinked.

“The rain took me by surprise,” she explained, sparing them both her cliché country song of a day.

But seriously. Worst. Day. Ever.

He looked her over again. “Well, even so, you look really—” He cut himself off with a shake of his head. “You know what? I’m not going to disrespect you by lying just to spare your feelings.”