Bedding the Wrong Brother(3)
“Passion,” Lucy fired back.
Of course. Passion. Lucy's favorite word. “And by passion, you mean…”
“Pure, animalistic chemistry. The kind that makes you want to rip each other's clothes off and do it against a tree if you have to. The kind of passion you don't feel for Jamie.”
The kind of passion she'd never felt for any man, Melina thought. Any man except Rhys, that is. But thinking of Rhys only made her sad, and being sad while she ate Ben & Jerry's was just wrong. “Ahh,” Melina said softly, trying not to sound too bitter. “You mean the kind of mutual passion that leads to love and lifelong happiness and is about as real as unicorns or flying dragons.”
“Rarity isn't the same as fantasy,” Lucy exclaimed. She stood, her face all flushed and her hands gesturing wildly. “That's what women have been taught nowadays. That passion and true love and friendship, all rolled into one, is impossible. So they settle.”
“Lucy does have a point,” Grace admitted. “Passion must be a basic female need. Otherwise, why would such a huge percentage of women be craving it?”
“Maybe,” Melina said, trying to be the voice of reason, “because 98.9 percent of guys aren't the throw-a-woman-on-the-ground type.” Her eyes automatically shifted to the pictures of Max and Rhys on her bookshelves. She had a feeling they were the exception, but they didn't exactly represent the average male. “Women want passion, but if it's not in a man's true nature to give it to her, then what's the point in wishing for it? Compatibility. Respect. Even love. That's what matters.”
“So then what's with all these?” Lucy pointed to several books on Melina's coffee table. The Joy of Sex rested prominently on top of the stack.
Melina shrugged prosaically, pretty sure Lucy already knew the answer. “Guys like sex. Jamie's a guy. Thus, part of getting and keeping Jamie is giving him sex.”
And not just any kind of sex, Melina thought. Mind-blowing, can’t-live-without-it, I'll-never-look-at-another-woman-for-fear-you-won't-give-it-to-me-again sex. The kind of sex she apparently didn't know how to provide, but was going to master this time even if it meant renting every porno she could find on the Internet.
“You like sex, too,” Grace pointed out. “Do you factor into this equation at all?”
“Of course, I do. I have no doubt that Jamie can give me what I want.”
Lucy harrumphed and narrowed her eyes at her. “Well, I'm glad your wants are still in the picture. At least Brian didn't totally squash your sexual confidence when he hooked up with his little co-ed.”
No, Melina thought, he’d squashed her confidence long before then. Every time he’d hinted she needed to lose a few pounds. And he hadn’t been the only one of her boyfriends prone to doing that. But insecurities aside, she knew she was healthy and reasonably attractive. That just wasn’t enough for some men. The key was finding the man who’d love her for who she was.
And who she could learn to be in bed.
“True passion isn't about technique, Melina,” Lucy insisted. “You can't manufacture it by reading about it.”
Melina nodded. “I get that. But I've never been overly passionate, anyway. After Brian, I was sure I was through with men for good. But then Jamie approached me. He's smart and kind and funny. I think I could be happy with him.” She heard the hesitation in her voice but charged on. “I just need a little extra insurance that I can make him happy, too.”
Snorting, Lucy shook her head. “If you're talking about making him happy in bed, there's no such thing as insurance. You'll just have to take the plunge, so to speak.”
“Not necessarily,” Grace drawled. “As my mama always said, practice makes perfect, right?”
Lucy's brows furrowed, while Melina gave an internal groan. She recognized the challenge behind that drawl. For a woman who was so contained, Grace could throw down a challenge like nobody's business. Worse yet, she'd be the first to take one up, which made Lucy and Melina hard-pressed to turn one down themselves.
Melina turned to Grace, whose impish smile was unmistakable. “And just who are you suggesting I practice with?” she asked.
In sync, all of their gazes moved to the same shelf of pictures. Melina's stomach clenched even as she zoomed in on the most recent addition. Max and Rhys both looked impossibly handsome in black tuxedos. She'd taken it at the IBM Magic Convention in Vegas last year, right after they'd beat out Chris Angel and Lance Burton for Best Stage Magician of the Year. Of course, in the picture each had an arm around his date: Max, a tall, leggy redhead, and Rhys, a stacked brunette whose boobs were almost spilling out of her plunging neckline.