2007-03-04 - 9:06 p.m.

What is the most seductive thing a man can hear? Could it be a description of himself through the eyes of a woman?
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�You don�t believe me, do you?�

Clay looked around, embarrassed. He stepped closer and whispered. �Look, it�s not that I don�t believe you, it�s just that�� A loud woman pushed by them, nearly making Clay spill his drink. �Can we maybe find a table? I don�t know how comfortable I am talking about this right here.�

A fairly quiet table against the back wall suddenly became available. She ran to claim it as he followed behind, his head down. Normally the last thing he wanted would be to be recognized. Tonight, the last thing he wanted was to be seen in a Las Vegas hotel bar having that conversation.

�Okay, you were saying?� She winked and drummed her fingers on the table.

He smiled shyly. �I don�t remember.�

�You�re so full of crap.� She had only just met him, but she was already good at making him laugh. �You don�t believe what I told you before. About how I want you so bad. Go upstairs and bump uglies. You and me. Make furious zug-zug.�

He laughed and put his hands over his cheeks, noticing their warmth as he blushed. �Oh my God, you are, like, totally brazen.� He hunched his shoulders as he wrapped both hands around his glass. �Okay, I don�t know if I don�t believe it. I think I just don�t get it. You know, like�why.�

�Why what?�

�Why me. I mean�� He glanced down at himself. �Seriously. Me. Skinny, nerdy me. Come on.�

She knocked back the last of her drink. �Okay then, who should I want to have sex with? Who�s hot in here? Pick someone for me.�

He looked back towards the bar, where he noticed a bunch of young women giggling as they surrounded a man wearing a tight shirt that showed off his freshly-pumped biceps. �I don�t know. That guy, maybe?�

�Oh, barf.� She laughed and kicked him under the table. �Those bimbos can have him. Nothing attractive about him at all.�

�Really?� Clay turned to look again. �Isn�t that what you�re supposed to like?�

�You�re gonna tell me what to like? You�ve got some nerve.�

He shook his head. �No, I mean�that�s, like, what women find sexy. The way that guy looks. And that one. And those over there. All those guys are surrounded by women. Don�t look at me like I�m making this up. I�m just reporting what I see�and I don�t look like any of those guys.� He was having so much fun playing with her, he didn�t want to let up just yet. He raised his eyebrows at her as he brought his glass to his lips with a wicked smirk. �I�m thinking about getting calf implants.�

She picked up a coaster off the table and threw it at him. �You do and I�ll never speak to you again!� Dipping her finger into her glass to push the ice cubes around, she sat back and looked him up and down. �As for all those guys being surrounded by women�uh�I don�t know if you�ve noticed, but you�re surrounded by me. Or you will be, as soon as you give the green light.� Clay nervously fidgeted with the coaster. �I don�t look like any of those girls, do I? Like those Paris Hilton wannabes and Olsen twin-looking things getting trashed over there��

He didn�t look up. �I hadn�t noticed them.�

She laughed knowingly. �Good answer. But I�m nothing like them, and that isn�t stopping you from wanting me, right?�

His mouth dropped open. �Did I say I wanted you?�

�Ah. Touch�.� She crossed her arms haughtily, her smile letting him know that she was kidding.

�I didn�t say it. Not even once.� He shot her a sly grin and leaned forward. �I don�t say things like that to someone I just met.�

�Oh yeah?� She leaned back and crossed her legs, nudging her skirt up her thigh.

�Nope. It�s not gentlemanly.�

�Gentlemanly. I see. And you�re a gentleman, then, I take it?�

Clay cocked his head at her. �I�m a nice guy. I thought everybody knew that.� His brow furrowed. �Wait�you�re not one of those people who...oh, never mind.�

�Who what?�

�Oh, just some people, like in tabloids and stuff, they kinda want to paint me as a jerk. Like I�m all diva-ish and mean to people�stuff like that.�

She adjusted her silver anklet and ran her fingers up her calf, smiling at him. �I don�t read tabloids.� He sighed with relief. �I didn�t mean to imply that I didn�t think you were a nice guy. I mean, the few times I�d see you on TV or something, you seemed pretty cool. I guess it�s not uncommon that people want to say a celebrity is something he�s not, but to just go around saying Clay Aiken is mean to people is kinda pathetic. They can�t come up with something juicier than that?�

�Well�if you�d pay more attention to gossip about me like everybody else,� he joked, �you�d think I was gay.�

She snorted. �Oh right. Like I�d think that after the way you were looking at me when I first walked in here!�

He put his hand on his chest. �Me? Never. You didn�t see a thing.�

�Oh, you weren�t checking me out?�

�I didn�t say that. I said you didn�t see it. A gentleman is discreet.�

She pulled herself up to kneel on her chair, grinning and reaching towards him to touch the tip of his nose. �Well, this gentleman couldn�t stop discreetly staring at my tits.�

�Okay, you caught me. But I�m hardly to blame. When women walk around looking like you do, a guy like me is never gonna stand a chance.�

She raised an eyebrow at him. �You�ve got way more than a chance, honey. Good lord, the runway lights are on, you�ve gotten clearance from the tower�land already!�

Clay cleared his throat and took another sip from his drink. They�d been flirting with each other for nearly an hour, and he�d never had such an easy time getting an attractive woman to respond to him. Especially not this strongly. He knew she wasn�t a fan of his, but obviously she recognized him. And she�d shown no signs of being interested in his celebrity. So where was this intense interest in him coming from?

�Okay, maybe I�m cute. A little. To you.�

She rested her chin against her fists and sighed. �At least.�

�But this�� He pointed at himself, up and down. �All this? I don�t work out, I�m all pasty white, I�ve got a zit on my chin, I can barely dress myself. Not hot.�

�Okay, here�s where you�re all screwed up. You don�t get to decide if you�re hot or not. That�s my job. You just focus on whether or not you think I�m hot. That�s your job. And besides,� she said, leaning to the side to get one more look at his reasonably-matched shirt and pants combo, �you dressed yourself just fine tonight. Except for that awful hat.�

He glanced up at the brim of the hat he�d put on before leaving his hotel room. �What�s wrong with my hat? I wear this sometimes to keep from getting noticed.�

�There�s a lot wrong with it. First off, you�re indoors. You don�t wear your hat indoors. And didn�t your mama teach you to remove your hat in front of a lady?�

He reached up and pulled the hat off, running his fingers through his hair. �Which makes you the lady, then.�

�Close enough. Oh, and if you seriously wear that thing on your head to keep people from noticing you�uh�you don�t think they notice the one guy in here with a hat on? And a goofy, floppy one at that. I know this is Vegas and people sometimes dress like major tourists, but this is a nice place you�re in.� She reached across the table to muss his hair. �Much better, Hat-boy.�

He smoothed the top of his hair down again. �Like I said. Not hot. I�m a dork and you know it. Nothing sexually attractive about a guy in a dumb hat. It�s a good thing I have my personality and good manners to fall back on.�

She mockingly collapsed onto the table. Even with her lack of subtlety, he wasn�t getting it. �This isn�t about you being a good person, Clay.�

�It�s not?�

�Well, that factors in, I guess. Like, I would feel comfortable falling asleep next to you because I don�t think I�d wake up to find all my stuff stolen. And I wouldn�t expect you to surprise me by pulling out a little razorblade and mirror and cutting yourself a rail on my nightstand��

�Oh my God. That doesn�t happen, does it?�

�Live my life for a while. You�ll see some weird shit go down. I�ve had to learn to spot those guys so I can stay away from them.�

�Wow. I�m sorry.�

�And you being a good guy means you�re more likely to be good in bed, because you�d actually maybe care about me enough to make sure I was having a good time...you know, like I�d be more than just a warm place to stick it, so that�s a plus. But I was attracted to you before I knew anything about you. And the more I saw you, like on TV and stuff, the hotter I got for you.�

He looked down at his empty glass, too embarrassed to look her in the eye.

�And your face�you know, I love your face, it�s really beautiful. Your eyes, your nose, your lips�everything about it. But when it comes to wanting you like I do, your face is�well, part of it is how it feels when you look me in the eye, but most of it is wondering how it would look when you�� He looked into her eyes, challenging her. �I want to see if I can give you the expression I see in my mind. I want to see beads of sweat dripping off the end of your nose. I want to see you trying to catch your breath. And I want to hear that voice of yours when you�ve lost control of it�and all that comes out is pure pleasure.�

Clay swallowed hard. �You�re good.�

She winked at him and whispered, �You�d better believe it.�

He quickly glanced around the room, making sure nobody was near enough to listen in on their conversation, then turned his full attention to her again. She had positioned herself so that her elbows were close together on the table, her arms pressing her breasts together in a way that gave her what seemed to be a mile of cleavage. Her long hair tumbled over her shoulders, looking incredibly soft. Her eyes sparkled as they picked up light from a distant bank of slot machines. But, for all of that, he found himself staring at her lips as she spoke.

�There�s just something so sexy about a tall, skinny man. The long, lean torso. Those legs that go on forever. Feeling like I could wrap myself around you�twice. You skinny guys are so much hotter than you realize.

�The way your neck and shoulders come together. The lean muscle and taut tendons, those collarbones with the little valleys behind them. Most guys don�t have all that. You�ve got so much�landscape�so much to spend time enjoying. You probably have no idea how much of your sweat�your scent�collects in those little hollows you�ve got there. But women do. Women who love men to smell like men�we go straight for those sweet spots every time. Start at your neck and jawline, go down to your shoulders and upper chest. My God, you�d be done with round one before I even touched you below the waist.�

Clay squirmed in his chair, trying to adjust himself without her noticing. But she noticed. She noticed everything. Round one might be over before we leave the table!

�Then I�d want to lay you down on your back and work on your chest and stomach. My fingers, my mouth, exploring that soft, pale skin�looking for freckles like the ones you have on your face. Your ribs. All those muscles showing through, feeling them tense and move as you react to me. Your stomach sinking in like a shallow dish. Maybe starting to get a little sweaty itself. Maybe I�d tease you with my tongue, lapping the sweat off your stomach like it was a saucer of milk.�

He leaned towards her, shifting his hips. He placed his hands gently on top of hers, and she brushed her thumbs along his knuckles.

�Don�t think I haven�t looked at your hands. Don�t think I haven�t noticed how long your fingers are. And how great it would be to look down and see those fingers touching me. And feeling them in places where I can�t see. How do you imagine your hands would look against my skin? Tracing my curves? Lifting my breasts to your mouth?� She took gentle hold of his fingers and pulled them closer, so that the tips of his fingers were softly touching the low neckline of her shirt.

�I can�t look at you from behind without imagining my nails digging into your back. Or my heels digging into the backs of your thighs. Or higher. Which reminds me�� She let go of his fingers to open her hands, cupping them slightly to illustrate her point. �Not only do you have this perfect tiny ass that would fit so beautifully in my hands, but you have hips that take my brain to places that keep me from being a productive citizen.�

Clay let all of his fingers relax and drop to the table but one. He outstretched his index finger to lightly stroke a small area of smooth skin on her breast. He tilted his head to the side, watching her eyes drift shut.

�Narrow hips like yours�oh God, do you know what those say to me? Ride me. Such a comfortable place for me to sit for a while. Not gonna over-extend my hips by straddling yours, not gonna get worn out. I�ve got loads of stamina, but I need to be in a comfortable position to really work it. But with your hips, I can stay put, doing my magic as long as it takes to get the job done.� She sighed and opened her eyes to gauge his reaction.

His tongue briefly sought out the corner of his mouth. �What kind of magic do you do?�

She dropped her head, letting her hair fall over her face for a moment as she laughed. �Uh�I guess it�s the kind where I make something disappear. And then kinda reappear. And then it disappears again��

He pushed her hair to the side and behind her ear, giggling along with her. �That sounds like a good trick.� Then, trying to regain his composure, �Would you like me to tell you what I think of when I look at you?�

She smiled, settling back onto her seat, and pulled her room key from where she�d tucked it into her bra. �I think I�d prefer it if you showed me.�

Clay bit his lip with a smile and raised a finger into the air to signal the nonexistent waitress.

�Check please!�

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