Dec lifted her up onto the edge of the kitchen counter and slowly teased at her nipple with his tongue. Rachel raked her hands through his tousled hair and smoothed her thumbs over his forehead, taking in all the details of his face. She’d grown so familiar with Dec that sometimes she forgot just how handsome he was.

Dec hooked his fingers in the waistband of her skirt and tugged it down, letting it drop onto the kitchen floor. Then he unbuttoned his shorts and they followed. He was already hard and ready and when he reached around and pulled her up against him, Rachel let out a soft cry of surprise.

He kissed her again, and his mouth ravaged hers, desperate to possess, to taste. Rachel drew his head back and looked into his eyes, but she could see only passion there. A thrill raced through her as she watched his desire build.

He leaned over and grabbed a bag from the counter behind her, then pulled out a box of condoms he’d purchased yesterday at the drugstore. Rachel laughed softly as she took them. “Did you leave these down here on purpose?”

“Maybe we should leave them all over the house,” he said, sucking on the skin below her ear.

Rachel opened the box of condoms, handing him one and he quickly smoothed it down over his stiff shaft. He pulled her to the edge of the counter and slowly entered her, the two of them watching as he buried himself to the hilt. A tiny sigh slipped from Rachel’s lips as Dec began to move.

If this was the way they settled all their arguments, then Rachel looked forward to having many more. It wasn’t difficult to forgive Dec anything, especially when he made her feel like this.

DEC SLOWLY PAGED THROUGH the catalog of sex toys, stopping every so often to examine a photo in closer detail. “You know, I’m getting pretty used to these little visits to Rachel’s House of Pleasure and Pain,” he teased. “I never know what I’m going to find.”

“There’s a really nice library on campus,” she said. “They have a wider selection of G-rated material.”

“No, no,” Dec replied. “I like the X-rated stuff. See, look at this. A life-size rubber doll for nine hundred dollars. Why would any guy need a real woman when he has a babe like this at home?” He tossed the catalog aside and picked up another. “Why do you have these? And don’t tell me you’re doing a study.”

“I have to keep up on all the trends in sex toys,” she said. “So I can talk about them on the radio. If my callers mention something I don’t know about, it hurts my credibility.”

“Nice,” he muttered. “What about these?” He held up another catalog, open to a page of vinyl underwear. “Would you ever wear something like this?”

Rachel shrugged. “If you wanted me to wear something like that. It’s only underwear. Some people find the feeling of vinyl very erotic. Like a second skin.”

A long silence grew between them as Rachel continued her work. He studied her from across the room, watching the way her hair fell across her face, the way she nibbled on the end of her pen as she read. “Is there anything you can’t talk about?” he finally asked.

“It’s my job,” Rachel replied. “It really doesn’t help my listeners to be bashful. They need an honest opinion and if I act embarrassed about the conversation, then that would be a judgment on my part.”

But he wasn’t talking about sex and her radio show. He wanted to know exactly how she felt about him, about what had happened between them yesterday. About what had been happening between them from the moment they’d met. After their fight the previous morning, he’d felt a very subtle shift in their relationship. It was like they’d both finally acknowledged they actually had a relationship.

Before the fight, they were having an affair. It had been all about sex and pleasure. But the fight had proved they were two individuals with different ideas and different goals trying to find a way to live in each others’ lives. If they wanted to continue to get along, then they’d have to work through a lot more conflicts.

And Dec knew there was another one coming up, starting right about now. “What time do you have to go to your group sessions?” he asked.

“We should leave here in about fifteen minutes,” Rachel said. “You can drop me off. I’m sure I’ll be fine. The office building is very secure.”

“I’m coming in,” he said.

Rachel glanced up from her desk. “If you’re sitting in the waiting room when my clients get there, you’re going to intimidate them.”

“No, I’m coming into the group session with you.”

She shook her head. “No, you can’t do that. The sessions are private.”

“Well then, I’ll just pretend to be one of them,” Dec said.

“You can’t,” Rachel said. “They have very specific sexual problems. You don’t seem to suffer from any, beyond the fact that you think about sex twenty-four hours a day.”

“Twenty-three,” he said. “The other hour I spend thinking about eating.”

“All right, twenty-three. They’d still spot you as a faker a mile away.”

“What kind of problems do these people have?” he asked. “Why are they coming to see you? At least you can tell me that. Are they perverts or something?”

“Pervert is not a recognized name for a person with a paraphilia,” Rachel said.

“You mean, these are foot people?” Dec asked. “Hey, I could be a foot person. After our night in the tub, I’m starting to develop a fondness for feet. Your feet in particular.”

“They’re not called ‘foot people’,” Rachel said. “They’re foot fetishists. And I don’t have a group for that.”

“What are your groups?”

“I start off with my Socially Repressed Gamers. They’re mostly computer guys who are approaching their thirties and have never had a girlfriend. After that, I have my sexual addicts. They’re mostly divorced guys who managed to screw up their marriages by screwing around. And then I have my furries and plushies. They’re a mixed group, men and women, who are sexually aroused by others in animal costumes and by stuffed animals.”

“So that’s the group that this Janice Krandall is in?”

“You can deduce what you must,” she said. “I’m not saying a word.”

“These don’t sound like people who are on the edge of a major meltdown here. Why can’t you just cancel until we catch the woman who’s been harassing you?”

“I can’t. I won’t,” she said. “I should be seeing them every day, but once a week is all I get. If we miss a session, then it takes another two to get back to where we were.”

“I’m going to come in with you,” Dec insisted. Though he knew he was pushing it, he needed to make it clear to Rachel that he wasn’t going to give up so easily.

“You can’t. Counselor-client privilege.” Rachel drew a deep breath. “Unless-”

“What?” Dec asked.

“Unless we go in, tell them exactly who you are and why you’re there and you ask permission to sit in. They’d all have to say yes before you can.”

“But that won’t do me any good. They’ll be suspicious of me right away. No one will open up.”

Rachel shrugged. “That’s the deal. You can take it or leave it.”

He considered the offer. At least it was a chance. “All right,” Dec said. “I guess I have no choice. But if they don’t let me in, then I’m going to stand outside that door until you’re finished.” He picked up the catalog again and stared at the cover. “Do you have dirty magazines at your other office too or do I have to bring these along?”

Rachel slammed her book shut and stood up. “Come on. We might as well get out of here now. I’m not going to get any work done with you sitting here watching me.”

Dec jumped to his feet and Rachel grabbed her purse, then opened the office door. To her surprise, Simon was standing just outside, as if he’d been listening with his ear pressed against the door. Rachel cleared her throat and Dec gave the young man a wilting glare.

“I’m going over to my group sessions, Simon. I’ll call in later this afternoon for my messages.”

Simon gave her an uneasy smile. “I thought we were going to work on the new journal article. I have all the citations ready and I’d like to go over them with you.”

“We have time on that,” she said. “It’s not due until September.”

“But you know how busy it gets at the beginning of the school year,” he said. “I think it would be best to get it out of the way now, while you have extra time.”

“All right,” she said. “Why don’t we plan to work on it tomorrow morning. I’ll come in at nine.”

Dec gently took Rachel’s elbow and steered her out of the office. “I don’t like the way that guy looks at you,” he murmured. “Your buddy Ellsworth might be right. Maybe Simon is in love with you.”

“Don’t be silly. Simon wouldn’t risk his job. He’s on to bigger and better things at the end of next semester.”

“I just have a bad feeling about him. He’s hiding something.”

“Are you suspicious of everyone?” she asked.

“No, just of clingy, over-protective graduate students who think they run your life.”

It was a beautiful summer day with a cool breeze blowing in off the Atlantic. They walked to Dec’s car, parked near Rachel’s space in the lot and he held on to her elbow, keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings.

He hadn’t told Rachel about the box that had been delivered to the radio station or about the message inside. Over the past few days, she’d begun to relax again. There’d been no new contact and Dec could only hope that her stalker had found something else to occupy her time. Yet, in his head, he knew that this might just be the calm before the storm.

He’d always taken his job seriously, but this had become more than a job for him. He actually was beginning to believe he and Rachel might have a future together and Dec was willing to do everything in his power to protect that future.

It was easy to imagine himself living with Rachel, having her in his bed every night and every morning, sharing breakfast with her, calling her to chat in the middle of the day. These were such simple things, things he used to believe were unimportant. But for the guys who had a woman to love, simple things made a difference. Dec could see that now.

He opened the car door for Rachel and she slipped inside. Bending down, he tucked the hem of her skirt inside and she turned and smiled at him. And at that moment, it hit him, like running full speed into a brick wall.

“Oh, God,” he murmured after he shut her door. He was in love with Rachel. He’d been so damn busy protecting her he hadn’t seen what was happening to him. The revelation, though quite sudden, wasn’t as disturbing as he thought it would be. He loved Rachel. What was wrong with that?

Dec tried to list all the reasons he’d always given for remaining single. He was free to date any woman who walked into his life. His time was his own. There was no one to tell him what to do or where to be. But he didn’t want anyone else but Rachel and he liked spending all his time with her. And she never really told him what to do or where to be. In truth, she was happy to have time to herself.

He got into the car and fumbled with the key in the ignition. Dec glanced over at Rachel, only to find her watching him, a frown on her face.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“Sure,” he said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. You look a little pale.” She reached out and placed a hand on his forehead. “Are you feeling sick?”

Dec shook his head. “Nope, I’m just a little hungry.”

“We can stop and pick up something to eat before group. I’ll be tied up from ten to two, so I’m not going to be able to catch lunch until afterwards.”

“Naw, I’ll be fine,” he said.

“We haven’t been getting a whole lot of sleep lately,” she said. “I hope you’re not coming down with something.”

Dec chuckled. Another benefit to having Rachel in his life-someone to worry over him when he was sick. It was just getting better and better, he mused. “Are you saying I can’t keep up with you?”

“Of course not,” she replied. “I’m saying maybe we should try to sleep when we go to bed, instead of spending the night in other pursuits.”

“Baby, as long as we’re in the same room together, sleep is always going to be the last thing on my mind.”

Rachel shook her head. “You’re incorrigible.”

No, Dec thought to himself. He was in love. And though he wasn’t ready to say the words out loud, there was a certain satisfaction in knowing they were true and that someday, very soon, he would say them to Rachel.

“I VOTE WE LET HIM STAY.”

Rachel smiled at Debbie. “All right. Are you sure about that?”

“No,” she said. “Kyle told me to vote that way.”

Rachel turned to Kyle. He held a fake fur blanket and stroked it as he glanced nervously around the room. “Did you tell Debbie how to vote?” she asked.