Between The Sheets (8 page)

“Go on, Bonnie-Jean,” he was saying as he leaned over the bed to reach for a pillow. “Please follow that thought. You're telling me your interest in this sheet set depends on what position you're sleeping in?”

An attractive woman in her early fifties with bright blue eyes, Bonnie-Jean gave Rex a smile. “It would definitely factor into my decision whether or not to buy them.”

April stepped back in front of her computer, recognizing a cue in the sound of Rex's voice. There was a note of interest that told her he was on to something. She typed
S-L-E-E-P-I-N-G P-O-S-I-T-I-O-N
into the appropriate cell in the spreadsheet, her attention focused back on the conversation in the main conference room.

“So you're saying that you sleep differently on different nights?” Rex asked.

“It's not the nights really, but my husband and I definitely go through phases. If we're in our
intimate
phase…” The woman smiled. “This sheet arrangement would work out fine. But if we're in our butting-heads phase, my hus
band would wind up hanging off the edge of the bed to get away from me. All that stuff on the side of the sheets would annoy him. You know, the apparatus.”

April chuckled. With the click of her mouse, she pulled up the file with the respondents' profiles.

Bonnie-Jean Hickman, 50, business owner—floral shop.

While April had never been involved in a relationship long enough to warrant
phases,
she knew Bonnie-Jean's claim was valid when several women around the table nodded their agreement.

“So couples have styles of sleeping,” Rex said. “Ladies, you're nodding. You all know what Bonnie-Jean's talking about?”

More nods.

“Let's explore this. Tell me about how you sleep, Marina.”

Marina Torres, 38, elementary school teacher.

“My husband and I spoon in the middle of the bed so the pockets on the sides of the sheets won't bother us.”

“Would you think about sleeping like spoons when you were considering whether or not to purchase these sheets?”

Marina shrugged. “Not when I was buying the sheets, but it would make a big difference whether I left them on my bed all night.”

“So you may put the sheets on and remove them before you sleep. Treat them as a specialty item rather than conventional bedding. How would your sleeping position factor into this decision?”

“It wouldn't.”

“What would influence your decision then?”

Marina smiled. “How well your sheets worked and whether or not I was too tired to get up and strip the bed.”

Several women around the table laughed. Rex only nod
ded, but even through the window April could see the spark of amusement in his dark eyes.

“How about you, Carolyn?” he asked. “How do you sleep and would your position affect your decision to buy these sheets?”

Carolyn Rogers, 42, legal receptionist.

“My boyfriend and I start off the night facing each other like we're hugging.”

Rex reached for his notebook, made a notation before he looked up and asked, “So far we've got hanging off the bed, spoons and hugging. Any others?”

When one woman tried to describe how she and her significant other slept, Rex looked stumped. He finally asked her to illustrate the position on paper.

While April may not be very comfortable around people, one area she excelled in was research. With just a few keystrokes, she'd pulled up close to a thousand hits on Web sites featuring information about sleeping styles. A few more strokes and she narrowed her search specifically to couples' sleeping styles.

She visited the Web site of a psychologist who'd based his twenty-five year career on the study of how couples' sleeping language indicated the emotional well-being of the relationship. Scanning the pages, April scrolled through the photographs that demonstrated each sleeping position in full color.

“April,” Matthew said, dragging her attention from the computer screen. “You're on.”

She glanced up to find him pointing at the window and Rex and the respondents in the room beyond. “What?”

“Mr. Holt wants—”

“April,” Rex's voice resounded over the speaker. “Please join me.”

“Oh, thanks,” she said to Matthew then slipped from the
observation room, trying not to allow too much light in through the opening door.

She popped her head inside the conference room a moment later and Rex motioned her in. Smoothing her hands over her skirt, April entered and greeted the respondents with a smile.

“Ladies, this is my assistant, April. She comes directly from the client who is sponsoring our focus group today. She'll help us clarify the positions you're talking about.” He turned to her and she saw a smile in his dark eyes. “April, you've been following our discussion?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Circling the table, he motioned to the bed. “Come on over here. Ladies, gather around. I want you to talk us through these positions.”

It took a moment for April to realize what Rex intended, another to comprehend that he expected her to lie down on that bed with him. Direct contact. Exactly what she didn't need with Rex Holt in front of an audience….

“Take off your shoes, April.” He toed off his own butter-soft leather slip-ons.

Then he climbed into bed.

The sight shouldn't have been erotic, given the logistics—an audience, an observation window, a video camera—but there was no way watching this man climb into a bed
couldn't
be erotic. That he was fully clothed didn't minimize the effect of his long, sculpted body unfolding as he spread out over the sheets, a fact apparently evident to every woman in the room if the way they all watched was any indication.

His dark hair and tanned face looked striking against the pale pink pillows, his button-up shirt and knife-creased trousers a silent invitation to be removed piece by piece.

“Come on, April, join me.” He extended a hand and she had no choice but to accept it.

Smoothing her skirt, she slipped into bed and stretched out, careful not to brush against him. Her heart began to race. A voice in her head warned over the alarm bells that had started peeling wildly…
calm down, calm down, calm down.

She breathed deeply, surprised that lying beside him left her with a curious feeling of déjà vu, which made no sense at all given that she had never even seen the man lying down.

Unless she'd been fantasizing about him.

As she'd slept so restlessly last night, she couldn't discount the possibility. Just knowing Rex was in the room on the other side of the wall, in bed, perhaps naked…

“All right, Bonnie-Jean,” Rex said. “Let's start with the butting-heads phase.”

Rolling to his side, he draped his knee over the mattress. “Like this?”

“Hang your arm down,” she directed.

“And where are you sleeping when your husband is hanging off the side of the bed like this?”

“On my right side with my hands tucked beneath the pillow.”

April mimed the position and Bonnie-Jean nodded.

“I sleep the same way all the time. My husband's the one who changes. But see how the pockets with all that stuff in them are in the way.”

“I'm catching one with my arm and the other with my knee.” Rex shifted around to illustrate his point.

“It's a wonder your husband doesn't fall out of bed,” Marina commented. “I couldn't sleep like that.”

“Actually, he has.” Bonnie-Jean laughed.

“So you sleep like spoons during your…” Rex hesitated. “Intimate phase, isn't that what you called it?”

Bonnie-Jean nodded.

“With your husband on the inside or outside?”

“Outside.”

Rex rolled over and suddenly he was pulling April against him, much too close, much too
male
for her peace of mind. She actually tingled when his warm strength cocooned her, molded every solid inch of him around her.

His chest pressed full-length against her back. His crotch pressed against her bottom so she could feel the slight bulge nestled between her cheeks. His thighs slipped beneath hers, knee-to-knee, and if that wasn't enough, he hooked an ankle over hers to pin her beneath him.

She wanted to ask if it was really necessary for him to take the closeness so seriously. They were only supposed to be
demonstrating
sleeping positions, after all. But she couldn't come up with a way to phrase the question that wouldn't make her sound stupid in front of their audience.

“Does this sum up your sleeping arrangement, Marina?” His breath came in a warm burst against her ear and to April's utter mortification she actually shivered, a head-to-toe vibration that she sincerely hoped Rex hadn't felt.

Marina approached the side of the bed to orchestrate their arrangement. “My husband's leg crosses mine over the thigh. Like this.” She patted Rex's knee to motion him to slide his leg upward.

April felt every inch of that warm weight dragging a trail up her calf, her silk hose and his trousers sliding sleekly against each other.

“Like this?”

Marina clapped her hands. “You got it. Nothing fancy, just really close.”

Really, really
close. April's temperature rose by slow degrees, a dizzying combination of nerves and awareness.

“All right, Carolyn. Your turn.” Rex clearly was as comfortable conducting business on these pale pink sheets as he was sitting at the head of the conference table. “Show us what you were talking about.”

Carolyn Rogers was an attractive divorcée in her early forties, a receptionist who'd recently gotten involved with a partner from her law firm.

“We face each other,” she said. “My boyfriend lies on his left side and I lie on my right.”

Rex turned over, and encouraged April to slide into his arms with a dashing smile. Meeting his gaze squarely, a bravado that was absolutely, positively all show, April rolled against him.

“Now thread your legs together with yours on top, Rex.”

He wedged a knee between hers and slid the other on top as directed. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he held her close.

“Well, this is cozy.” He laughed, a rumble she felt deep inside his chest, or more accurately,
her breasts
felt deep in his chest, because they happened to be the closest body part.

“Ah, to have such passion again.” Marina heaved a great sigh. “You and your boyfriend want to fuse together, eh?”

Carolyn grinned and the women nodded appreciatively, gathering around the bed as though proximity might pass along some of the magic.

April, however, felt far from magical. She was barely staving off the effects of Rex's hard body and her own case of nerves. The need to fidget was becoming torture.

“The Honeymoon Hug,” she squeaked out, needing to hear her own voice as a distraction.

His chest kept brushing her nipples so lightly she feared
she'd wind up with nipple erections for all these women to see.

And Matthew. And the videotape…

“The what?” Rex asked.

“This sleeping position. It's called the Honeymoon Hug. Couples sleep this way a lot when they're in the honeymoon phase of their relationships.”

“Or after lovemaking, eh,” Marina said knowingly.

“A sleeping-styles doctor calls this position the Rolls Royce of intimacy.”

She was babbling. Not a good sign. The alarm in her head was shrieking wildly now and she willed her thoughts away from how his thighs snared hers between their muscular strength, from how utterly and completely perfect their bodies fit together.

“A sleeping-styles doctor?” Rex unwrapped himself enough from her to prop up on an elbow to peer down into her face. “Who's he?”

“A psychologist who studies couples' sleeping language. I pulled some information up when you started discussing the subject. There are a lot of sleeping styles.”

“Really?”

She nodded, any headway she'd made catching her breath lost. She'd pleased him.

She was pleased that she'd pleased him.

This was not a good thing. But for the life of her she couldn't remember why at the moment. Touching this man had scattered her thoughts completely and April didn't have a chance to dwell on this unfortunate development because Rex chose that moment to turn the floor over to her by addressing the group.

“Okay, ladies, let's try these sleeping styles on for size,” he said. “Marina, my notebook is on the table. Will you do the honors.”

“Absolutely.”

“Tell us what other positions there are, April. Ladies, stop us when you recognize the ones you sleep in. Marina, write down the name and the style after it. Make sure you get yours and Bonnie-Jean's down there, too.”

“Got it.”

“First there's the Crab.” April scooted away so quickly the bed frame creaked loudly. “No contact. You sleep over on your side of the bed and I stay over here on mine.”

Worked for her.

“Any takers?” Rex asked their audience.

Several women shook their heads while Marina made notations in Rex's notebook.

“That one isn't so popular. I don't like it either.” Rex rolled back toward her. “What's next?”

“The Leg Hug.” Another position with limited contact. “Hook your leg over mine. That's it. Nothing else touching.”

“My boyfriend and I sleep like that,” Nikki, the career woman who worked on the road with a Fortune 500 company, said.

Then the Sweetheart's Cradle, which had April's thigh draped casually across his, just a hair's breadth below a bulge in his crotch…

The Buttocks Hug. Facing in opposite directions with bottoms pressed together. The perfect Zen position for giving each partner a sense of independence while still maintaining the intimacy through a physical connection.