Escorted Free Preview

Chapter 1

Lori Addison sat in a crowded coffee shop in downtown Seattle, nursed a caramel mocha, and tried to pretend she wasn’t nervous.

She was nervous. So nervous she literally jumped when her cell phone buzzed from her purse. She fumbled to pull it out and gave a silly giggle of relief when she heard Sabrina on the other end.

“Is he there yet?” Sabrina asked.

“No. I told you. We’re not supposed to meet until three o’clock. Not for fifteen more minutes.”

“I thought he might be early.”

“Then why did you call?”

“I’m dying here! You have to call me the minute you’re done.”

Lori laughed, relaxing a little in the face of Sabrina’s characteristic, pestering impatience. “I will. I told you I would. Who else would I call?”

“Definitely not any of your other acquaintances. I can’t believe you’re really doing this. You get to have all the fun.”

Shifting in her seat restlessly, Lori tried for tartness as she asked, “You call this fun?”

“Well, you’re going to be paying him a lot of money. It sure as hell better be fun for you.”

To her infinite mortification, Lori blushed hotly, even sitting alone at a table in a crowded coffee shop. She mumbled something incoherent.

Sabrina cackled. “What was that?”

“Shut up. I’m embarrassed enough. I’m still not sure if I’m going to go through with this.”

“Well, definitely don’t go through with it if he gives off any creepy vibes. I mean it. The slightest twinge of weirdness and you get out of there.” Lori’s cousin’s voice had altered. She was serious now.

“I know that. I’m twenty-six years old and not a fool. I have a pretty good man-sensor. But I can’t imagine he’ll be creepy. I mean, you got about fourteen referrals for him, didn’t you?”

“Sixteen,” Sabrina corrected. “The man must be a god. I’ve never heard such raves. Some of these women are frigid, middle-aged harpies, but get them started on this guy…”

Lori cleared her throat and felt the nervous jitters in her belly again. “Um, yeah. So that’s good anyway. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to make sure it’s with the right guy.”

“You sound nervous.”

“Of course, I’m nervous,” Lori snapped, lashing out as her anxiety started to rise.

Sabrina’s voice changed again. “Lori, you don’t have to do this, you know. There’s absolutely nothing weird or unnatural about you—”

“I know that. But I’m sick of still being a…” Lori lowered her voice so the other patrons couldn’t hear her. “Still being a virgin. It’s ridiculous. And I’m sick of waiting around hoping some man will sweep me off my feet and take care of this inconvenient little detail.”

“Lori—”

“We’ve been over and over this,” Lori interrupted again. “Do we have to rehash it all?”

Lori had made it through high school and college without having sex, mostly because she’d been futilely in love with her best friend for all those years—an sweet, adorable soccer player who’d never been into to her that way. No one else she found remotely attractive was interested in her at all.

She’d dated on and off, but it had never gotten as far as the bedroom. In the years since, even after she’d realized that her friend just wasn’t the man for her, she’d grown gradually more and more self-conscious about her sexual inexperience. And it just got worse as she got older and everyone assumed she had a typical social life. Because she was so self-conscious, she kept pushing men away. She felt caught in a ruthless cycle and didn’t know how to break free of it.

“I’ve been thinking about it for months. It’s kept me from getting close to anyone—even the few men who’ve seemed mildly interested.” Lori shook her head and took another long swig of her coffee drink. “Besides, the irony is becoming bitterly painful. I’m lauded as the Goddess of Romance and looked to for swoon-worthy love scenes. And yet I have no experience at all.

For the fourteen-zillionth time, Lori wondered how she’d somehow become a bestselling romance novelist, when she was a complete failure at love.

“Well, it is pretty remarkable how hot your sex scenes are,” Sabrina ventured, an edge of laughter in her voice.

Lori gave a little huff. “Anyone can write good sex scenes. All you need is some basic knowledge of anatomy, the right vocabulary, and some choice reading material. Experience has nothing to do with it.”

Sabrina cackled again on the other end of the line.

“Anyway,” Lori said, noticing a particularly attractive man enter the coffee shop alone. “I better hang up. He’ll be here in five minutes.”

“Call me immediately afterwards. Immediately! Do you hear me?”

After reassuring her cousin that she’d waste no time on reporting about the infamous meeting, Lori slid her phone back into her purse. She noticed that the attractive man she’d seen enter had gone directly up the counter without looking around like he was meeting someone.

She drooped slightly in her chair. It would have been nice if he were the man she’d arranged to meet. Even with the incongruously bald head, he was one of the handsomest men she’d ever seen.

Lori glanced around the shop to make sure another lone man wasn’t looking for her. Seeing no one, Lori turned to discreetly observe the bald man again.

He was far too young to be so completely bald. Mid-thirties at the latest. Maybe he shaved his head. His tall, lean form moved with both power and grace, and his black trousers and gray dress shirt looked expensive. A businessman, maybe, although he didn’t carry a briefcase. There was something about him that appealed to her—beyond his physical appearance. His eyes roamed the room idly as he waited for his coffee, and his expression was coolly confident.

He seemed experienced, she realized. Like he’d lived a full, complex life before he’d even reached thirty-five. She wondered what it would be like to marry such a man—to have the weight of that experience at the kitchen table every morning, in bed with you every night.

She decided the hero of her next novel would be burdened with that sort of deep experience.

And he’d be completely bald.

Glancing at her watch, she noticed it was just after three o’clock. Surely this guy wouldn’t be late for a potential new client.

She was looking at the entrance with a slightly peeved expression when a voice startled her out of her impatience.

“Lori.”

She jerked her head around and inexplicably saw the compelling, bald man standing next to her table with his cup of coffee. She blinked up at him, wondering vaguely if he’d noticed her leering at him.

“Is it Lori?”

She nodded mutely.

The man smiled—an urbane, sensual smile that ignited even his blue-gray eyes. He reached a hand out to her in greeting. “I’m Ander.”

Lori’s mouth dropped open and she gaped at him.

While she was normally a friendly, outgoing person who handled social situations with ease, she was already insecure about this meeting. And her shock at having the random man she’d admired turn out to be the one with whom she had this particular appointment left her speechless and completely discombobulated.

Ander’s elegant eyebrows lifted slightly. “Ander Lourdes. We were scheduled to meet, right?”

She had to assume the name was a professional appellation. Surely no loving father would have saddled a little boy with a name like that. The boy would have no choice but to go into the profession Ander had obviously chosen.

“Yes,” she said at last, belatedly pulling herself together. She stood up and shook his hand. His grip was warmer than she’d expected. He looked so cool and polished that she’d thought his hand would be a cooler temperature. “Sorry. It’s nice to meet you.”

He nodded politely and smiled again. “Do you want to talk here?”

Lori glanced nervously at the other seat at her table. She definitely wanted to meet with him where there were plenty of people around, but the kind of conversation they’d be having wasn’t one you wanted to carry on with dozens of ears within range.

“We could walk over to the park,” he suggested with easy courtesy. “Still a public place, but not so crowded.”

She agreed and grabbed her purse and mocha. She’d made a point of not dressing up for this meeting, so she was wearing her favorite pair of jeans and a dark green vintage jacket of crushed velvet that matched her eyes. She’d pulled her shoulder-length brown hair back in a low ponytail and wore no make-up except mascara and lip-gloss. She’d instinctively known that dressing up would make her even more nervous.

As they crossed the street, Lori asked her companion, “So what kind of name is Ander?” She wanted to make casual conversation and she’d genuinely wanted to know the answer since Sabrina first put this man’s name in front of her as a suitable candidate.

Ander’s mouth tilted up on one side. “It’s short for Alexander.”

“So it’s your real name?” It might be too personal a question for this context, but she’d always been overly curious.

“Ander is. My last name has been changed.” He gave a huff of dry laughter that she found remarkably appealing. “To protect the innocent.”

She snickered a little, instinctively drawn to wit in any form. His answer had been particularly clever—as it remained ambiguous as to which party in question was innocent. “So were you named for Alexander the Great or Alexander Graham Bell?”

He gave her a curious look, as if he were mildly startled at her nosy questions. But before she could start to feel self-conscious about what might be inappropriate behavior on her part for meetings such as these, he said, “The Great. My father would never have named a child after someone as innocuous as an inventor, however brilliant the inventor happened to be.”

“Ah,” she replied, “So your father liked the warriors.”

“Exactly.” Idly, Ander put a hand on her back to guide her over to an empty bench in the city park.

Lori sat on the bench and looked up at him, noting that he was ridiculously handsome in the sunlight, with a breeze blowing against his dark clothes. “I suppose your father must be especially proud of you, then,” she said wryly.

Even she knew—as soon as she spoke the words—that the comment was far too presumptuous for first acquaintance. She bit her lip and felt a pang of guilt and embarrassment.

To her relief, Ander didn’t look offended. He just looked off in the distance and murmured, “Oh, he’s proud all right.”

The note of bitterness told Lori something about this man’s feelings for his father. There was a whole story here, a mystery to unravel.

But it was none of Lori’s business and wasn’t at all what she was here for. Pulling herself back to the purpose of this meeting, she felt a new wave of self-consciousness.

What the hell was she doing here?

Ander sat down next to her on the bench and sipped his coffee, his expression becoming professional again. “I always meet with prospective clients to ensure we’re on the same page before we schedule an engagement.”

Lori nodded, dropping her eyes to stare at her hands in her lap.

“Did you have any questions about the prices your friend explained to you?” Ander asked. “You’ll pay for an entire evening. That’s the base price. I offer nothing lower than that.”

She looked up at him, frowning. He didn’t have a website like some escorts, instead relying on personal referrals, but details Sabrina had gotten from the women she’d talked to were quite clear. She was a professional woman. Not an idiot. “Yes, I was able to understand the services you offer and what you charge for them,” she said, her tone a little snippy.

His mouth twitched, so slightly she almost didn’t catch it. “Good. I just wanted to make it clear that you pay for the entire evening, whether or not you use it. I don’t hire myself out by the hour.”

So some reason, his dry tone made her want to snicker again. She stifled it, in case he’d mistake it for mockery. “Understood.”

“We can do whatever you like for the evening. I can act as escort, play a part if you want, provide general companionship. If you’re interested in anything sexual, that will cost extra.”

Lori couldn’t believe she was sitting here, in the middle of a park in downtown Seattle, having this conversation. Her cheeks burned involuntarily, but she wasn’t as mortified as she’d expected. Ander was so business-like and matter-of-fact about the situation that it helped Lori feel that way too.

“I thought I made my interests clear when we talked on the phone,” she said.

Ander nodded. “Of course. The prices differ for oral on you, oral on me, and full intercourse.”

A nagging question that had been bugging her for a few days prompted her to ask, “Who would pay you that much money for you to get the blow job?”

Again, that slight twitch of his mouth. She wasn’t even sure it meant anything—his expression was generally so calm as to be stoic. But she found that occasional little quiver of his mouth the most appealing thing about him. “Women have different desires when they make use of my services. Some find giving more thrilling than receiving. Some simply want the practice.”

Lori thought about that for a moment. It was something she’d never even considered before.

Ander cleared his throat, bringing her attention back to him. “Perhaps you can give me a little information about your goals for this engagement.”

She nodded. “Right. Well, I sure as hell wouldn’t pay this much money for a date.” She took a breath. Summoned all her fortitude and courage. “I want to have sex.”

“Yes, but what are your goals for the sex? Are you looking for a particular mood or brand of excitement? Do you just want to relieve tension? Get something you can’t get from other partners? I’m not trying to pry into your personal motivations, but I need a little direction if we’re to make this a successful engagement.”

“Right.” She shifted on the bench. Told herself she would be paying this man a lot of money a few days from now so she had nothing to be embarrassed about. And surely he’d encountered a lot of stranger things in his line of work. “I want to have sex because I haven’t had it before. Yet.”

To her infinite relief, Ander didn’t even bat an eye. “I see. Did you have any specific details you wanted to play out? A particular fantasy?”

“No fantasy. I just want to get it over with.” When she realized how that must have sounded, she shot him a rueful look. “That came out worse than I meant it. I’d like it to be good, of course. As good as possible, I mean. I don’t have any unrealistic expectations. No romanticizing or anything.”

He nodded, his brows pulling together like he was reflecting. “Do you have oral experience?”

She shook her head with a long sigh. She seemed to have gone past embarrassment now to a weird state of restless resignation. “No. Nothing really. I’ve had some make-out sessions, but they weren’t very good and I couldn’t really get into them. I can’t even get myself off very well.” She slanted a sharp look over at his face to check his expression, but he still showed no signs of surprise.

“In that case, it might be a good idea to start with oral. There’s a better chance of your reaching climax that way.”

Despite the bizarre situation, Lori couldn’t help but give a little snort. “And I suppose that doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that that service is more expensive than intercourse?”

This time, there was no mistaking the slight twitch of his lips. His eyes glinted briefly with amusement. “Just a suggestion.”

“Why is it more expensive?” she blurted out, her curiosity once more taking over.

“It’s more intimate,” he murmured, for the first time glancing away. “On my part.”

Lori wrinkled her brow as she mulled that one over. When she realized he was waiting for a response to their previous discussion, she pulled herself back to the topic at hand. “Well, you’re probably right about starting with oral.” She added glumly, “I would like to have a good orgasm at least once in my life.” Money wasn’t an issue for her. After four bestselling novels in three years, she had more than enough of that.

“We’ll do the best we can,” Ander said matter-of-factly. “Friday still works for you?”

“Yeah.”

“The evening starts at seven o’clock and goes until midnight—unless other arrangements have been made in advance. Did you want to do anything beforehand? Dinner perhaps?”

To Lori, that sounded absurd. She wasn’t trying to trick herself into believing this was a real date. She had no delusions about what she was about to do, and trying to romanticize it would only make things more confusing. But because she was starting to feel really nervous again, she quipped to break the tension, “I suppose I’d have to pay for dinner too.”

Ander arched an eyebrow.

She snickered. “Right. I know. Sorry. That was on your handy list of prices and terms. I don’t want to waste time doing anything beforehand anyway.”

“We can meet at your place or at a hotel.”

“A hotel. I can email you the details tomorrow after I’ve made a reservation.”

“Excellent.” Ander stood up and smiled down on her—once more that urbane, sensual smile he’d mastered perfectly. “If you have any other questions or concerns, feel free to email or call me about them.”

Lori stood up too. She had to look up in order to meet his eyes. “Yes. Good.”

He extended a hand and she reached to shake it. Once again, his hand was startlingly warm. “I will see you on Friday at seven.”

“Right. Good. I’m looking forward to it.” As he started to walk away, she watched his lean, straight back and tight butt in his well-tailored trousers.

She gulped. “I think.”

Chapter 2

Lori checked into her room in an upscale Seattle hotel at about six o’clock on Friday evening. She wanted to get there early enough to relax and prepare before Ander arrived.

She’d started to change her mind about this encounter about twenty times over the last three days. But she’d never done things the conventional way, and she was determined to go through with this. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t the traditional way—or even a likely way—for a woman to lose her virginity.

It made sense to her, given her situation. She was going to do it this way.

After putting the appropriately counted wad of cash in an envelope on the table, she took a half-hour bath in the jetted tub, making sure to shave carefully and ensure she was presentable for sex. While she had no need to impress Ander or try to attract him, she didn’t want to embarrass herself with excess hair. The bath helped to relax her, as did the second glass of white wine she poured from the bottle she ordered from room service. She’d turned off her cell phone when she’d arrived, knowing that pestering calls from Sabrina would only make her more nervous at this point in the process.

She wasn’t sure what she should wear. She’d feel stupid in sexy lingerie. But her street clothes hardly seemed appropriate. So she’d brought her favorite pajama set with her—camisole and flowing pants in soft lavender cashmere. They were comfortable and flattering, and it was the best she could come up with.

For the moment, she covered them with a long, belted sweater so she wouldn’t feel so silly when Ander arrived.

She put on some melon-scented lotion. Combed out her hair. Brushed her teeth. Decided to go without makeup.

Then she took her half-drunk glass of wine and sat stiffly on a chair by the window. Recounted the cash.

Hoped she wasn’t going to be sick.

Before she could work up any truly debilitating nerves, there was a knock on the door. Ander. Five minutes early.

“Good evening,” he said with that same urbane, sensual smile he’d showed her before. He wore black and gray again—this evening a thin charcoal gray sweater with a sleek black jacket over it.

“Hi. Good evening. Thanks for coming. Come in.” She cringed at how stupid she’d sounded, but made herself push through her discomfort. She was paying a lot for this evening. It was a business transaction. She had no reason to worry about whether she sounded stupid or whether Ander knew how nervous she was. This was her deal, and she was in control of it.

All the same, she hurried back to her glass of wine.

Ander glanced around the room as he walked in, apparently making note of the king-sized bed with white duvet, the clean lines of the sofa, and the large entertainment center against the wall. When he turned back to her and saw her taking a long sip, he asked, “How much of that have you had?”

It was an unexpected way for him to begin this encounter, but it actually made Lori more comfortable. She smiled dryly. “This is just my second glass. I didn’t want to be schnockered, but I thought a very mild buzz might help.”

He nodded with another smile, this one a little less practiced.

“Do you want a glass?” she asked, sitting down on the edge of one of the chairs beside the small round table.

“Thank you.” Ander sat down in the other chair and put the black leather case he carried on the floor at his feet.

Lori peered at it curiously as she handed Ander a glass of wine.

Noticing her look, he opened the case and pulled out a couple of DVDs. “Since you weren’t interested in any particular fantasy or role play,” he explained, “I thought it might be helpful to bring these.” He slid them over on the table so she could see the covers. “They’re female-oriented erotic films. I don’t think you’ll find them tacky or vulgar. And the more aroused you are, the better this evening will go. Does this sort of thing work for you?”

“I don’t know. All I’ve ever seen is porn with big bouncing boobs. I hope that’s not what this is like.”

The corner of Ander’s mouth did that appealing little twitch. “No big bouncing boobs. Why don’t we try one of these, if you don’t have other ideas?”

Lori nodded, ridiculously relieved that she wouldn’t immediately have to get naked and spread her legs. She took her wine and went over to sit on the sofa while Ander walked over to the DVD player.

“Do you prefer business-types or manual laborers?” Ander asked, looking at her with cool courtesy over his shoulder.

“Business-types.” She curled up her legs to get herself comfortable and idly started to imagine how she would describe this to Sabrina tomorrow morning. It was certainly better than pretending to be out on a romantic date with Ander before having sex. But still…watching porn with a male escort was definitely an atypical experience.

Ander slid the appropriate DVD into the player. “The film is just under two hours, so we can watch the whole thing and still have plenty of time to move on from there. But let me know if it’s not working. And if you decide you want to move on before the film is over, just tell me that too.”

Lori nodded, swallowing an overly large sip of wine. She couldn’t imagine herself so overwhelmed with desire that she’d want to jump up and hit the bed in the middle of an erotic film. While her body reacted the way it supposed to when exposed to sexual stimuli—particularly the smutty parts of well-written romance novels—she’d never felt particularly urgent about physical arousal.

She’d read thousands of love scenes in books. Some hot and some laughable. After reading one of the purple-prose variety in college, she’d vowed she could write a better one, even without any real-life experience. So for fun she’d written a sex scene. Then she’d written a novel to go with it. Not a very good novel. She’d tried and failed to get it published. But it was a start. She wrote two more unpublished novels in college. But it wasn’t until the year after she graduated, working as a copyeditor at a local paper, that she actually made progress toward publication. She’d met a literary agent who’d asked to look at the fourth, and best, novel Lori had written. That novel ended up, by one of the unpredictable flukes of the publishing industry, becoming a romance bestseller. As did the three that followed.

Sometimes, when Lori wrote her own love scenes, she became aroused. She was emotionally invested in her characters, and she responded physically to the pleasure she gave them.

One more irony of her inexplicable life.

As the movie started to run, Lori looked over at Ander, who’d taken off his jacket and then taken his seat again next to the table. “Are you all right over there?” she asked, “Did you need anything? You can sit on the sofa—it’s got to be more comfortable than that chair.”

Ander said he didn’t need anything, but he did move to sit on the other side of the sofa, slouching down a little and stretching out his long legs.

“How many times have you seen this movie?” Lori asked, giving him a sidelong glance.

“Don’t ask.”

She chuckled, feeling more relaxed than she’d expected. She stiffened a little when the film jumped right into a love scene, complete with naked, panting people. But it was unlike any piece of porn she’d ever seen before. An actual storyline soon developed, and the actors and director were good.

And the sex…the sex was very sexy.

Less than a half-hour into the movie, Lori was aroused. But by that time she was actually kind of into the movie, and she figured the more aroused she was the better. At one point, Ander looked over at her and asked if she was enjoying the movie or whether they should try something else. She told him the movie was good—although she was tempted to shush him for interrupting a particularly good scene.

Otherwise, they watched in silence. Lori was mostly absorbed in the storyline, and pleased and relieved by her body’s responses to the erotic activities on screen. But occasionally she thought she sensed Ander’s gaze on her—like he was watching her. Every time she turned to check, however, his eyes were focused on the television. Eventually, she told herself she was imagining things out of nervousness and self-consciousness. So she put it out of her mind.

When the movie finished, she was extremely turned on. Her body felt restless and squirmy and she was wet and hot between her legs.

“How do you feel?” Ander asked, narrowing his eyes to scan her face after he switched off the DVD.

“Fine,” she said, her voice a little hoarse. “I think we can go ahead and, uh, get going.”

“You’re aroused?”

Her cheeks warmed. “Yes,” she admitted.

He leaned over and picked up his case. After replacing the DVDs, he pulled out a packet Lori didn’t recognize. She stood up and took off her sweater. Then she walked over to peer at what he had.

Ander looked over, his eyes automatically scanning her body in her cashmere tank and pajama pants. But his gaze didn’t linger. He handed Lori an unopened packet. “Dental dams,” he explained. “For oral sex. I don’t have unprotected sex of any kind.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t be using your services otherwise.” She’d never seen an dental dam before so she studied the packet with interest, glad for any sort of distraction from what would be coming next.

“These are the best quality I’ve been able to find. Very thin and the texture is good. It will still be very enjoyable for you.”

She swallowed hard. “Pretty smug about your skills, aren’t you?”

He made a brief choked sound, as if he’d smothered a surprised laugh. Pulling out a tube of lubricant, he carried it with two dam packets and a couple of condoms to the nightstand. “I’ll guess we’ll have to wait and see whether I’m smug or simply realistic.”

His dry response made her giggle a little, and she walked over to join him next to the bed. When she looked from his slick, sexy good-looks to the large bed draped with a fluffy down comforter, her giggle changed to a nervous gurgle.

“You’re in control of this,” Ander said, holding her gaze with a cool expression. “We do whatever you want to do. I can act however you want me to act. Just tell me.”

“I don’t want you to pretend to be romantic or hot for me or anything. I want it to be…be real. I mean, don’t pretend we’re doing anything other than we are.”

“Understood. I can do that. Would you prefer me to stay in my clothes or take them off?” Ander replied smoothly, not appearing to notice her anxiety.

She thought for just a moment but knew the sight of his undoubtedly fine, naked body would be the end of her nerve. “Keep them on.”

“And you?”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, suddenly conscious of the way her full breasts were outlined in the clinging tank she wore and that her nipples were visibly tight from her arousal. “I’ll keep them on for now,” she said, “Until …”

He nodded. “Lights?”

“Off.”

“Is there anything else you’d like? Questions or requests?”

“Um.”

He waited patiently, watching her with an oddly quiet look of scrutiny. When she couldn’t manage to get anything said, he asked softly, “What can I do to make you less nervous?”

Despite the practical purpose of the question, it made her feel a little better. Like he was human and not just some suave sex machine. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she managed to say. “Obviously. And obviously you do. But one of things that has gotten in the way when I’ve tried to get farther than kissing with a guy is the thought of not knowing what to do. I mean, I know the logistics and the way it’s supposed to go, but it’s always felt a lot different than the over-blown stuff in books. And I get hung up on how clueless I feel, and then I can’t get into it at all.”

He nodded, as if he understood what she was saying, despite her somewhat silly babbles.

“It would help,” she added, “If you can kind of give me some directions.”

His eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

“Not boss me around or be some sort of dominant asshole. Just kind of guide me through it a little.” Her cheeks were blazing red and she peeked at him through her eyelashes. There were no signs on his face that he thought she was a freak or an idiot. “If that wouldn’t make you uncomfortable.”

He blinked. Although she didn’t know what would have surprised him in her last comment. “Of course,” he said, after just a moment. “That makes sense. I’ll do what I can. Why don’t you get into bed?”

While Lori pulled the sheet and comforter down, Ander turned off the overhead lights and took off his shoes and socks. Then she stretched out, breathing deeply and forcing herself to relax.

She smiled over at Ander as he sat down on edge of the bed next to her and reached to turn off the bedside light. He smiled back, and that was the last clear image she had of his face.

In the dark room, Lori felt less exposed and self-conscious. She was starting to think that this wouldn’t be too bad—that she’d worked herself up over nothing—when Ander’s form suddenly loomed over hers, the dark silhouette of his head directly above hers.

She jerked violently, having expected him to be a lot lower. “What are you doing?” she gasped.

He grew very still. “I was going to start with some foreplay if that’s all right. It will make things go more smoothly.”

“Oh. Okay. Sounds good.” She took a slightly ragged breath and lay beneath him, telling herself she was an intelligent, mature grown-up who was in control of this encounter. She had nothing to be nervous about.

When his face lowered toward hers, though, she put a hand up to stop him. “Are you going to kiss me?”

“I was,” he said, bracing himself above her on his forearms. Like his hand, his whole body felt warm, far too warm for his sleek, cool persona. “My clients usually like to be kissed.”

“Oh. Well, I’m not sure I want to. It just seems too…I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right. Like I’m taking advantage of you or something.”

There was a noticeable pause before he said, “Lori, you’re paying me for this.”

“I know.” She squirmed a little. “But it just feels weird. I’d rather not.”

“Of course. You mean on your mouth, I assume. I can kiss you elsewhere, as part of foreplay?”

“Yes. Elsewhere is fine.”

She really wished she were less nervous so she could enjoy the bizarre nature of this conversation.

Ander started by mouthing her throat lightly. She tilted her head to give him better access and was surprised by how nice the light touch felt. Then, before she knew it, he was stroking her body over the cashmere, his palm brushing over her hips, belly, and breasts.

She’d been very aroused a few minutes ago and had only been briefly distracted. So her body responded to his caresses. It was a relief. She still was breathing in uneven little pants, but she started to loosen her tense muscles.

“Take a few deep breaths,” Ander murmured, his mouth lowering to trail along her collarbone.

Lori was about to be annoyed with his bossiness when she remembered he was just doing as she’d requested. So she followed his instructions, took a long, unhurried breath and let it out. After a few more of these, her breathing had slowed and evened out.

“May I push up your top?” Ander asked, his fingers on the edge of her little tank.

“Yeah.”

He eased up her top to expose her breasts, although it was too dark in the room to see them clearly. Then he lowered his mouth to latch onto one nipple.

She gave a little whimper as he suckled it skillfully, and she felt the corresponding tugs between her legs. She shifted beneath him.

“Let me know what you like,” he said, raising his mouth from her breast briefly. “I can’t please you otherwise.”

“Oh. I like what you’re doing. What should I do with my arms?” It felt like her arms were in the way and she couldn’t figure out where to put them.

“Grabbing the headboard is an old favorite,” he said, the wry note in his voice comforting and familiar. “Or you’re welcome to touch me if you want. Just please don’t scratch my head.”

She tried the headboard and kind of liked the way the position lifted her breasts so they didn’t fall so weirdly to the sides. So she clung to the wood as Ander suckled at her nipple and then adjusted to fondle both breasts with his hands.

Lori arched up involuntarily as pleasure tingled from his touch and coalesced at her growing arousal. Realizing she was panting again, she tried to take a few more slow breaths.

“Is this working for you, Lori?”

“Yeah,” she admitted hoarsely, arching up again as he twirled both of her nipples between his fingers and thumbs. “It feels really good.”

Ander continued his caresses, kissing and stroking her breasts, and sometimes shifting up to her throat or down to her stomach.

He was cupping her breasts with both hands and had his mouth on her belly when Lori’s hands flew down of their own accord to settle on his head. Making sure not to use her fingernails, she stroked the tight skin of his bald scalp, amazed by how smooth it felt and how rippling the little bumps and ridges of his skull were. He’d either shaved his head before he came over or he was naturally bald. She felt not the slightest hint of stubble. The smooth sensations on her fingertips intensified the other growing sensations in her body.

When she unconsciously started pushing Ander’s head lower, instinctively wanting him farther down, he lifted up. “Ready?” he asked, reaching over to the nightstand to pick up a packet and the lubricant.

“Yeah.” Her nervousness was lessened by physical desire, and she started to push her pajama pants down over her hips.

Ander helped her slide them off her legs with her panties and then he settled himself between her thighs. Her arousal was hot, wet, and aching—and it made her want to wriggle her hips. But the logistics had given her time to get nervous again and she tensed up.

She felt one of Ander’s hands on her belly, stroking her gently. “Can you loosen up here?”

She tried to do as he said and relax her stomach muscles but she couldn’t seem to manage.

He kept stroking her. “Try to breathe again.”

She took four deep breaths before she managed to relax her clenched belly.

His hands stroked down to her thighs. “Now here.” They did the same thing—Ander massaged her tight muscles as she breathed until she was able to soften the tension. As she loosened up, he parted her legs farther.

She heard him rip the packet open and then squirt out some lubricant. “I’ll rub the lubricant on the back of the dam. It will make it more pleasurable for you,” he explained. “But I think I’ll use my hand first, if that’s all right with you.”

“Yeah.”

She kept concentrating on breathing until she felt his fingers parting her intimate folds and then stroking slowly along the flesh. The touch was warm and slick—so warm she gasped.

“The lubricant warms,” he said, apparently noticing her reaction and reading it correctly. “It will make it better.”

“Okay.”

She reached up to grab the headboard again, needing something to do with her hands, when he smoothly slipped a finger, and then two, inside her channel. She clung—her hands to the board above her and her inner muscles to Ander’s fingers.

“Is it too tight?”

“Um. I think it’s all right.” It didn’t hurt and wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, as he gently massaged her inner walls, the warming sensation and the skillful stimulation caused ripples of pleasure to spiral out from the touch.

“I’m going to use my mouth now,” Ander explained, his voice so calm and confident in the dark room it was absurdly reassuring. She could see no more of him than a dark silhouette and a faint gleam of his skin from the blue glow of the digital clock next to the bed. “If I do anything you don’t like or that makes you uncomfortable, tell me right away. I’m going to assume you want to do what we’re doing until you tell me differently.” He slid his fingers out of her channel. “To begin with, I’m going to test around to see what you like, so if something feels particularly good, it would help if you tell me.”

“All right.”

She felt him making adjustments farther down the mattress and heard rustling of what must be the dam. Then she gasped loudly when she felt something soft and slick touch her intimately.

“May I start?” His voice came from between her legs.

“Yes.” She clenched her fingers around the edge of the headboard so tightly her knuckles must have whitened. But she managed not to clench up the muscles of her pelvic area.

As soon as he began, she relaxed a little. It was weird but it wasn’t uncomfortable or horribly embarrassing. He must have been using his tongue, because she felt a light stroke rub up the range of her flesh and then flutter briefly at her clit.

“That’s good,” she choked out, as she felt the quick jolt of pleasure.

He played with her clit for a few moments, until it felt so good her muscles started to tighten involuntarily. Then he licked down to her entrance and probed and lapped. For several minutes, he tried out various techniques and the overall effect was quite good. Lori had been quite aroused to begin with, and soon her arousal had taken on an urgency she’d never experienced before.

She pointed out each move she particularly liked—the curl of his tongue into her channel, the circular flutter just at her entrance, the sudden pressure of his lips on one of her folds, and flickering or suction on her clit. As he progressed, he dropped the techniques she didn’t like as much and focused on the ones she did.

As the physical pleasure intensified, she bent up her legs involuntarily so she could press her feet down into the mattress, and she clutched the headboard so desperately her fingers were sore. He was spending more and more time at her clit. And, as he gave it a series of hard sucks, Lori’s spine arched up off the mattress.

She panted desperately, her unsteady inhalations loud and fast in the otherwise quiet room. She knew something was about to happen. The coiled tension below her belly couldn’t tighten much more without breaking.

Then Ander moved his mouth away, causing her to make a disappointed mew.

“I’m sorry,” he said, clearing his throat when his voice came out a little hoarse. “May I make a suggestion?”

“Of course. I told you earlier I wanted some directions. I thought I was about to come.”

“I think you were. But you’re clenched so tight that some of the pleasure is going to get swallowed by the tension. It will be better for you if you can relax a little more.”

She groaned and rubbed at her face with one hand. “How am I supposed to relax when everything starts feeling so good and you just know that something …?” She trailed off lamely, not quite sure how to describe it. In one of her books, she’d used the phrase “hot, breathless expectation” but even that didn’t quite capture it.

“Your instinct will always be to tense up. But if you fight the instinct, you can enjoy the climax more. I’m going to use my fingers again, and then I’ll use my mouth at the same time. Why don’t you try the breathing again?”

Lori reached up to grab the headboard once more. But her bone-deep irony prompted her to grumble, “You’re big on that damned breathing, aren’t you?”

She heard a brief, choked sound but she couldn’t see his face in order to interpret it. And when she felt his fingers, slick with lubricant and her own fluids, penetrate her again, she forgot to wonder about the sound.

Despite her words, she did as Ander suggested and started taking slow, deep breaths. The erotic pressure built back up with startling speed as he massaged her, and then he lowered his mouth once more to suckle at her clit through the dam. “Keep breathing,” he murmured from over her flesh.

As soon as the sensations had swelled up, she’d started her frantic panting again. But now she made herself inhale as slowly as she could, pushing down against the mattress with her feet. Then she exhaled, feeling a sudden, intense surge of pleasure as some of her muscles relaxed.

Suddenly understanding the purpose of the breathing, she focused on it even more, allowing the growing sensations from Ander’s ministrations to take care of themselves. She breathed deeply several more times, and on each exhale the pleasure leapt forward.

“Good,” Ander murmured, rubbing at her clit with something other than his lips. His fingers sustained a steady, stroking rhythm in her wet passage. “That’s perfect. Breathe one more time.”

Lori breathed in and felt all the carnal tension at its breaking point.

She breathed out and the tension finally broke.

It wasn’t a screaming, earth-shattering orgasm from a romance novel. She didn’t cry out in ecstasy or experience wave after wave of endless bliss. Her eyes blurred over and her back arched up. And she made no noise except a few thick, ragged gasps.

But it felt really good—much better than any orgasm she’d had before—pleasure pulsing out at the sudden release of pressure. Ander kept thrusting his fingers against the contractions of her channel, and she vaguely heard him murmuring, “Good. Ride it out. Just like that. That’s good.”

When she collapsed back onto the mattress, letting her arms drop down to her sides, she was astonished by how immediately relaxed she felt. She also felt a little embarrassed. And overly warm.

“Do you want a few minutes before we move on to intercourse?” Ander asked, straightening up. His voice sounded a little different—thicker or something—but she couldn’t connect a mood with the slight alteration.

“Yes,” she said, still breathless from her orgasm and feeling a jolt of raw fear at the idea of having intercourse right away. “Thank you.”

“I can hold you, if you want,” Ander offered. When she just stared blankly at the dark outline of his face, he added, “A lot of my clients like that afterwards.”

“Oh.” As she processed her feelings, she realized it would be nice to be held. But by someone who actually cared about her. “No. That’s all right. Thanks. I don’t want to pretend anything. I’m not trying to fool myself.”

“Understood.” He stood up off the bed. “I’m going to throw this away and clean up a bit then, if that’s all right.”

“Yes. Good.”

He turned the light on in the bathroom when he entered. She heard the water running in the sink. Realizing she was lying on the sheet half naked, she fumbled around until she found her panties and pajama pants and pulled them back on.

Ander left the light on as he returned, illuminating the room enough for her to see him more clearly as he returned to stand next to the bed. At his questioning look, she admitted, “I don’t think I’m ready for the rest of it yet.”

“Would you like another glass of wine?” he asked, smiling his urbane, sensual smile.

Jumping at this suggestion, since it might provide her a way to get past her strangely embarrassed afterglow, she said, “Yes, please.” She reached over to turn on the light beside the bed so Ander could see more clearly to pour the drink. “You have another one too,” she added. “If you want.”

She noticed he walked a little stiffly as he came back over to hand her the wine. “You’re really good at that,” she said, smiling at him with real appreciation. Despite her emotional discomfort at the moment, she was deeply relieved to know she was capable of having an orgasm like that. And Ander’s professionalism really had made the whole process as easy as possible and quite pleasurable. “The oral sex, I mean, not the wine. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said mildly. There was a slight sheen of perspiration on his face, and she wondered how much effort it had taken to get her off. The whole process must have taken almost forty-five minutes, since it was now nearing ten o’clock.

As he walked over the few steps to pour himself some wine, she studied him carefully. His clothes were barely even wrinkled, the expensive fabrics and tailoring standing up well to even this sort of activity. But he definitely was missing the cool grace that had always possessed him before. His shoulders looked a little tense.

As he faced away from her, standing in profile against the expanse of windows, Lori suddenly realized what it was. The sleek, urban cut of his trousers left little to the imagination, and she could see the bulge at the front of them quite clearly.

He was aroused.

Lori blinked and looked away quickly, her cheeks burning at the realization. It made sense, she supposed. He’d been engaged in an intimate activity. And maybe he had some sort of mental thing he did to get himself ready for intercourse. It wasn’t like with women—who could take it whether they were aroused or not. He had to be erect in order to do this part of his job.

It probably had nothing to do with her.

But still…the knowledge that pleasuring her had left him physically aroused made her feel kind of strange.

For once, she was able to hold back her wayward tongue. She didn’t mention it, not even to make the snarky joke that came to mind.

Ander seated himself on one of the chairs next to the table and they drank their wine in silence for a few minutes.

“That was a good orgasm,” she said at last, wanting to speak and shaping the first words that came into her head.

Lifting his eyebrows slightly, Ander said, “Good.”

“I mean, I had my expectations pretty low. I knew it wasn’t going to be like a hot love scene in a book. But still it was really good. I liked it.”

“I’m glad.” To her surprise, she saw the little twitch at the corner of his mouth. For some ridiculous reason, the unexpected sight of it was like greeting an old friend.

“You don’t think I’m weird or unnatural, do you?” she asked, “For having gone so long without having a decent orgasm before?”

Ander shook his head and answered with cool sobriety, “Not at all. It’s more common than you’d think. Some women are too self-conscious to let themselves climax. And others only have experiences with men who don’t know how to please them. With all the erotica in popular culture now, many women have unrealistic expectations about what sex should be like. So when their actual experiences don’t match with the fictional fantasies, they think something’s wrong with them. But the reality is it doesn’t happen magically, and a lot of men don’t know how to please a woman’s body—even if they genuinely want to. You might be surprised by how many women come to me for that very reason.”

Lori thought about that and decided it was very comforting knowledge. Not that so many women were unsatisfied but that she wasn’t the only woman who’d somehow missed out on the orgasm-train. “You should give lessons,” she said at last, glancing back over to him and catching him studying her closely. “Teach men how to do a better job.”

For the first time, she heard him laugh. It was just a low chuckle, brief and a little bit bitter. “I’ll consider it.”

“Maybe a seminar or workshop,” she added, kind of pleased that she’d managed to amuse such an unflappable man. “Or better yet a webinar. Stream it internationally.”

This earned her an even longer chuckle.

His laugh faded as he finished off his wine and glanced at his watch. “If you want to move on to intercourse, perhaps we should get started. We’ll want to leave time to try different things, if necessary.”

Lori swallowed and stared at the clock next to the bed. She’d just been feeling relaxed and kind of pleased with herself for the evening’s accomplishments. And the thought of having sex now made her stomach clench sickeningly.

And she realized that she’d done everything she was emotionally ready for at the moment. She knew herself well enough to know that if she tried to have intercourse now—having lost her resolve and erotic momentum—she’d be too scared and uncomfortable to have anything close to a good time.

As if he read her mind, Ander said mildly, “If you don’t think you’re up to it tonight, we can schedule another engagement and focus on intercourse then.”

Lori exhaled in intense relief. That was exactly what she wanted to do. And the relief mingled with her sense of irony to push her into spontaneous speech. “Ha! What a sneaky way to sell a second evening. You should have been businessman.”

When he arched his eyebrows at her, she bit her lip. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I know you are a businessman. I just meant at some big multinational corporation. But I didn’t mean…Sorry.”

Ander shook his head. “Lori, you don’t have to apologize.”

Despite his bland reassurance, she felt like an ass. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like you weren’t a professional. And I do think a second evening would be the best idea.”

“We’ll arrange it then.” Ander stood up. “Did you want to do anything else this evening? We still have an hour and a half.”

Since sex was off the table, she wasn’t sure what she’d do with him for that long. Some women hired male escorts simply for companionship, but that felt too weird and unnatural for Lori. She had friends. All she needed was sex.

She shook her head. Then she remembered his physical condition. “Oh,” she began, stiffening on the bed, “But you were…I mean, did you need to …” She waved her hand toward his crotch and reddened deeply again as she remembered she wasn’t supposed to know he was aroused.

Ander met her eyes evenly. “I’m fine, Lori. It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Oh.” She hated the thought of sending him on his way when he was still erect. “You can, uh, take a shower or something if you want.”

“Thank you. I might do that.” He hesitated, as if he weren’t sure whether she wanted him to take the shower now or not.

“You can go ahead. I’m not going to be up for anything else this evening.”

She stretched out more comfortably when Ander shut the bathroom door. She heard the shower running and she figured he’d take care of his erection under the spray. Then she remembered the pile of cash in the envelope on the table. She got up to recount it, pulling out the amount she’d included for intercourse and putting that back in her purse.

She was in bed again when Ander reemerged, looking composed, relaxed, and suavely dressed once more. To her surprise, he didn’t grab the cash and run. Instead, he sat down and leaned forward a little, clasping his hands. “Did you have any other questions I can help you with? Other concerns?”

She thought for a moment, taking the offer seriously. How often would she have the benefit of such an expert? “Do you have any suggestions for getting myself off more effectively?”

Ander frowned, but she could tell it was because he was reflecting on the question. “What have you tried?”

“Just my hand. Rubbing, mostly. I can get there, but it’s never all that good. I figured I was just doing it wrong.”

He gave her a few, detailed suggestions about techniques for manual self-stimulation. Then he added, “You should get a vibrator.” At her expression, he gave a half-smile. “They’re not nearly as tacky or embarrassing as you’d think. I can bring you a good one next time if you want.”

“Thanks,” she said, smiling in surprise at the offer. She’d considered buying one herself—she’d even found discreet websites through which she could buy one—but she’d been worried she’d be too self-conscious to actually use it. “How far in advance are you booked up?”

“Usually at least three weeks. Beyond that, it depends on the day.”

“Three weeks?” She’d been hoping to meet up with him again a lot sooner than that.

Obviously catching the disappointment in her voice, Ander tilted up one corner of his mouth. “I occasionally have cancellations. I can let you know. Otherwise, I think my first available evening is two weeks from next Wednesday.”

Lori thought quickly and couldn’t think of anything she had scheduled for that evening. And she figured she better snatch the day while she could, since obviously Ander’s time was a hot commodity. “I think that would work. Let’s schedule it then.” Feeling a prickle of curiosity, she asked, “Do you work every evening?”

He shook his head. “I keep certain days to myself.”

She made herself get out of the bed and walk over to the table. She slid the money over toward him without meeting his eyes. “It should be the right amount for tonight.”

He didn’t count it. Just slipped it into his pocket and picked up his case.

“Thank you for tonight,” she said.

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you on the twenty-eighth.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” she said as she watched him walk to the door—lean, upright, and infinitely cosmopolitan. Cool and competent. A quintessential businessman with a very particular business. She wondered why he was bald. And wondered how he’d gotten into this line of work to begin with. Wondered what was up with him and his father.

She hadn’t done everything she’d intended to do tonight. She hadn’t had intercourse. But she’d had a good orgasm, and that was excellent progress. She was fairly satisfied with herself.

As Ander closed the door behind him, she realized maybe she actually was looking forward to their next engagement.

Chapter 3

By the time two weeks from Wednesday rolled around, Lori had worked up a fair amount of excitement.

After her weird awkwardness immediately following her first session with Ander, Lori concluded that the encounter been a real success. She wasn’t looking for a fantasy. She was just looking for a way to rid herself of her virginity, a way that was easy and hassle-free. Ander was talented, accommodating, thoughtful, and very attractive. And his professionalism made the first engagement exactly what she’d been looking for.

She couldn’t imagine the second engagement would be a problem. It would likely go the same way, only with intercourse rather than oral sex. Because she had such a good impression of her first session with Ander, she began to anticipate the second one.

She was still nervous. But, as the days progressed, her excitement became stronger than her fear.

So Lori arrived at the hotel at six o’clock on the scheduled Wednesday. She followed the same routine as before: took a bath, shaved, applied lotion, counted cash, drank wine, and sat in a chair waiting for Ander. Her belly was fluttery with nerves.

But she was pretty sure she wasn’t going to be sick.

She’d been a virgin for twenty-six years. And she’d spent many of those years looking forward to not being one.

And now it was finally going to happen.

When Ander tapped on the door, she walked over to let him in without even the slightest impulse to hide in the bathroom.

Tonight, he wore all black—black trousers, black dress shirt, and very expensive black leather shoes. He smiled at her, exactly as she’d expected him to. Urbane, sensual. Infinitely practiced.

“Hi there,” she said cheerfully, leading him back into the room. “You look all cool and stealthy tonight.”

Ander blinked and looked down at himself. “Stealthy?”

She raised her eyebrows—in an expression that mirrored his own—and handed him a glass of wine. “All black. Do you do a lot of lurking in the shadows?”

“Not if I can help it.”

His dry tone in combination with that appealing twitch of his mouth caused Lori to snort. When he set his leather case in the chair, she moved to stand beside him. “What goodies have you brought today?”

The first thing he pulled out of his case was a slim, pink vibrator still in its original packaging. He offered it to her. “As promised.”

Her lips parting, she accepted the vibrator and stared down at it. “Thank you. It was nice of you to get it for me.”

“We can use it some this evening, if you want.” His eyes rested on her face, as if he were checking her expression. “It might help in foreplay, and I can show you some ways to use it.” When she just stared at him, he added, “But only if it won’t make you uncomfortable.”

Getting vibrator lessons from a male escort might make her a little uncomfortable, but it did sound like a practical idea. “No. That would be fine. A little weird, but fine.”

“Why is it weird?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Have you taught other women how to use vibrators?”

“Of course.”

“Oh.” A little taken aback by this matter-of-fact answer, she concluded, “I guess it’s not that weird after all.”

Ander smiled and reached into his case, pulling out a DVD. “This was the best I could find, if we want to start with erotica again this evening. Well-made, female-oriented erotic movies are few and far between. This is a series of short films, so each is just a half-hour. That would leave us more time, which might be smart if we want to practice with the vibrator before we move on to intercourse.”’

Nodding absently, Lori studied the DVD cover. “Is this as good as the one last week?”

“Not quite. It’s good—made for women and not tacky. But the stories are not as well-written. It’s the best I could find with business-type male leads. Manual laborers tend to be more popular—painters, carpenters, pool boys, you know.”

Lori sneered faintly at that inexplicable fact. Then she thought about the implications of what he said. “Did you look for this one particularly for me?”

“Yes. I thought it would be best to have a shorter film for this evening, but I didn’t have anything in my collection that would work.”

Staring up at his smooth, polished expression, Lori tried to imagine Ander rooting through shelves or online catalogs to find erotic DVDS. “That was awfully nice of you. Thank you.”

Ander gave a half-shrug. “It’s no problem. I can always use it again later.”

“Just exactly how big is your collection of erotic films?” Lori’s mouth wobbled with amusement as she imagined a secret room chock-full of sexy paraphernalia and DVDs in Ander’s doubtlessly slick, cool-toned apartment.

He chuckled briefly—with that same faint note of bitterness she’d heard in his laugh last time. “Big enough to do my job.”

He moved over to put the DVD in the player and asked over his shoulder, “Tonight, do you want to go about things the way we did last time?”

Lori lowered her eyebrows as she took her seat on the sofa. “I want to have sex this time. Intercourse.”

A tiny lip twitch. “Yes. I meant in terms of my behavior. Did you want to continue the same attitude or perhaps play out a fantasy tonight?”

“Oh. I get it.” Lori chuckled as she thought about how she’d misinterpreted him. It was very nice of him not to laugh out loud. “No, I like how we did it last time. Don’t pretend anything.”

“Understood.” He hit play on the DVD player and went to sit beside her on the sofa.

Ander was right about the movie. It wasn’t as good as the one last time. But it was basically well-made and still quite sexy. But the time it had run its course, Lori was plenty aroused.

“We can watch another one if you need to,” Ander offered.

“Nope. I’m good.”

Ander got up, turned the film off, and went over to the table. He pulled some batteries out of his case and then removed the vibrator from the package. As Lori watched him slide the batteries into the little tube, she couldn’t help but admire his long legs and firm, well-contoured ass. She wondered how often he had to work out a week to sculpt his great body.

Then she wondered what he looked like without clothes.

When Ander went over to the bathroom to rinse off the vibrator, Lori moved to the bed. She turned down the comforter and sheets and then sat down on the edge of the mattress. She took off the belted sweater she wore—the same one she’d worn last time. Under it, however, she was wearing a chemise in the same soft cashmere as her favorite pajama set. She thought it might be smart to wear something that could just be pushed up to have sex. And the graceful lines and little tie just under her breasts made her feel kind of sexy.

It wasn’t any sort of racy lingerie. Pretty tame in the scheme of things. It was sexy for her, though, and tonight she could use all the sexy she could get.

Before Ander came over to join her, he turned off the overhead lights. “Is it all right if we leave the light on in the bathroom? It will still be plenty dark, but it might help to have a little more light to work with the vibrator.”

“Sure.” She’d kind of liked the deep darkness of the room last time, but she wasn’t about to argue with what was obviously good sense.

Ander picked up the tube of lubricant and a couple of condom packets from his case before he returned to the bed. “Did you want to lie down?” he asked, putting the vibrator and other stuff on the nightstand and turning off the bedside light.

With a long exhale, Lori pulled up her legs and reclined back on the bed. She’d been doing so well—focusing on anticipation rather than anxiety—but now she was starting to get nervous. She was still aroused, but not so much she stopped thinking about what was about to happen.

“Do you want me to keep my clothes on this evening?” Ander stood, dark and looming, beside the bed.

Since she felt braver today, she replied, “Oh. No. I guess not. You can take them off.”

Ander started unbuttoning his shirt. His motion was slow, almost mesmerizing, as he gradually revealed his bare chest beneath. When he’d untucked the skirt, he let it slide with unhurried ease to the floor. His chest was toned and masculine. She could see the clean contours of muscle development on his abdomen and shoulders, even in the dim light of the room.

He slid his belt out of the loops. He moved naturally, not ostentatiously, but Lori suddenly realized he was giving her a little show.

It was effective. As she watched, her intimate muscles clenched in excitement and jitters rose up in her belly, but she also felt a gurgle of amusement. She had to press her lips together to stifle it.

Who would have thought that Lori Addison would be in the position to get such an elegant striptease from a bald man?

She must not have hidden her reaction well because Ander paused in the midst of unzipping. He arched his eyebrows. “Is something wrong?”

“Oh, no,” she said, keeping her eyes wide and trying not to stare down at what would be revealed when his pants came unzipped. “Everything’s fine. You’re doing an excellent job.”

Ander narrowed his eyes, a little suspiciously, before he let his trousers fall to the floor, revealing black silk boxers and a pair of very fine legs.

“Boxers?” Lori asked, working past the surge of visceral admiration at the sight of his near perfect body. “I was wondering what you wore.”

Ander took off his watch as he replied, “I didn’t know what you’d prefer. Since you’re American, I thought boxers were a better bet.”

Lori blinked up at him. “What do you mean?”

“American women tend to prefer boxers on men. If you were international, I’d have worn briefs. Obviously, once I know a woman’s preference, I accommodate it.”

“American women prefer boxers?”

“I have only my own informal assessment to go by, but, yes, I’d say three-fourths of them do. I try to pay attention.”

“Wow,” Lori breathed. “That’s what I call attention to detail.”

Ander gave her a half-smile. “It’s part of my job.” His hands lingered on the waistband of his boxers. “Shall I?”

Lori gulped, torn between nerves and carnal interest. The silk was thin and slippery, and she could see evidence through the fabric that he was already half-erect. “Why don’t you wait on that?” she finally decided.

Ander nodded and came over to sit on the edge of the bed. “Like last time? Some foreplay with no kissing?”

She scooted over toward the middle of the bed to make room for him. “Yes. Thank you.”

He slanted her an odd look before he moved into bed beside her. Then he moved over her. Like last time, he started with some light kisses on the side of her neck, but then he moved up to brush his lips along the line of her jaw.

Lori sucked in a breath. Then a sharper breath when he trailed his mouth down to the pulse in her throat. She felt his teeth on her skin, very gently.

Without any conscious thought, her hands settled on his head, irresistibly drawn to the smooth scalp. Again, no signs of bristles.

It was silent in the room except the rustling of the bedding and Lori’s accelerating breathing. He was warm above her, generating heat she could feel even where he wasn’t touching her, and he slowly pushed up her chemise to bare her body to him.

Ander took his time—stroking her body, fondling her breasts, teasing out spots that made her gasp or squirm that she’d never imagined before. This time, she was too distracted by the sensations to point out the things she liked best, but he found them anyway. Eventually, Lori was flushed all over and writhing shamelessly from the need for friction.

Ander’s mouth was on her side, on a sensitive spot just above her hip. He mouthed it hard and fluttered his tongue against her skin. At the same time, he was rubbing the back of her knee in a gentle massage and occasionally flicking at one of her erect nipples with his other hand.

“Ander,” she finally rasped. When he raised his head, she continued, “Can we…can we try the vibrator?”

Nodding wordlessly, he reached for it and for the lube on the nightstand. He knelt between her splayed legs and squirted lube out onto his hand. She could see everything much more clearly tonight from the light from the bathroom. “I’ll use my hand first, like last time,” Ander explained.

Lori gave a nod and then stared at him, hypnotized by her physical desire and by the sight of the mostly naked man reaching his hand down to her groin. Ander stroked her open and wasted no time in sliding two fingers into her wet, pulsing channel. She arched her neck and parted her lips at the feel of the penetration.

Rhythmically, Ander fucked her with his fingers for a few minutes, causing her to twist in pleasure and reach up to grab the headboard. He seemed to be stretching her, pushing against her inner walls. He avoided touching her clit, though, which is where she really wanted him.

Finally, she managed to choke out, “If you rub my clit, I think I can come.”

“I know,” Ander said in a low voice. “But when you come, you’ll get tighter. That might make intercourse more difficult. I know everyone says that orgasms relax you beforehand, but you get a lot tighter after an orgasm. You’re tight already and you don’t need to get any tighter. I’d suggest we wait, but I can do whatever you’d prefer.”

It made sense. She certainly didn’t want to make intercourse any more uncomfortable than it had to be, but the logic didn’t help ease her urgent, wriggling body.

“The vibrator?” she prompted.

Ander picked up the vibrator and slicked it up with lubricant. “You see how it’s curved?” He cleared his voice before he continued. “It’s made to easily reach your g-spot.”

He gently inserted the slim, pink device into her channel and she felt pressure on her upper wall. He thrust it slowly, and it moved easily with the lube and her own moisture. “Do you feel your g-spot? There?”

She felt a tingling pressure from the press of the vibrator. “Yeah.” Despite her intense arousal, she felt curiosity prompt her. “I thought from the way it’s described in love scenes that hitting your g-spot would cause this huge jolt of pleasure.”

Ander shook his head, still pumping the vibrator slowly inside her. “It can get that way, but it’s a cumulative effect. Most women need to be aroused before they can feel it at all. Then it takes some building up before you can get the best sensations.”

As he continued pumping, she started to feel the tingling pleasure intensify.

“Do you want to try it,” he asked, “To make sure you can find it yourself?”

Lori reached down between her legs to take the vibrator and slide it in and out like Ander had. It was a little embarrassing, but his lessons would do her no good if she couldn’t find it on her own. She angled it until she felt her g-spot again and parted her lips at the renewed stimulation.

“Good?” Ander asked, his eyes moving from her face to the device that was penetrating her intimately, wet now and making a faint, embarrassing sucking sound as she moved it.

“Yeah.”

She let Ander take over the vibrator again, and she gasped as he turned it on. The sensations swelled up so intensely and so quickly that she arched and clawed at the sheets.

“Too much?” he asked. She couldn’t see his eyes in the dim room. Couldn’t read his expression.

She fisted her fingers in the sheets. “Really, really good.”

He kept pumping the pulsing vibrator against her g-spot until Lori’s body tightened brutally and she panted loud and frantic.

Then he pulled it out. “Sorry. I better stop now or you’ll come. You should be able to get a really good orgasm that way. If you can’t get all the way there, try rubbing your clit at the same time.”

Lori nodded in acknowledgement of this advice. Her cheeks blazed, and she could feel herself perspiring. Her arousal was a throbbing ache between her legs. “I really need to come,” she admitted, tempted to sneak her own hand between her legs.

“Are you ready for intercourse?”

“Yeah. Please.”

Ander returned the vibrator to the nightstand as he climbed off the bed. She watched as he slid his silk boxers down over his hips. His erection sprang free and bobbed a few times. He was big—at least as far as Lori could tell—hand even in the low light she could see that his shaft was a slightly deeper color than the rest of him.

When he picked up a condom packet, a clench of anxiety tightened in her throat. To distract herself, Lori asked, “What happens if you aren’t able to get it up?”

Ander slanted her another odd look. “No worries. I have it up.”

Lori snorted. “I can see that. It’s very impressively up. I was just wondering in general. I mean, obviously you won’t be attracted to all of your clients. And maybe sometimes you find them very unattractive. Do you have some sort of mental thing you do to make sure you’re up for the job?”

There was a pause as Ander rolled a condom down over his erection. “Yes,” he said at last. “I do. When people say the brain is the most important sexual organ, they’re not making it up. With some practice, you can think yourself into arousal.”

Lori considered that as Ander slicked up his condom-encased cock with a good amount of lube. A weird impulse prompted her to quip, “But you didn’t have to do any mental acrobatics to get hard for me, did you?”

His lips twitched. “Of course not.”

She fought a smile and asked, “You say that to all the girls, don’t you?”

“What do you think?” He actually smiled at her. It wasn’t broad and it was half-ironic, but Lori loved how it changed his whole face. “You ready?”

She nodded again, gulping as he got back into bed and settled himself between her legs. He was big. And she tried not to envision how tightly he would fit.

“I think we better start with missionary,” he said, propping himself up above her. “There’s good reason it’s the old favorite.”

“Sounds good.” Lori was washed with waves of heat—it seemed to radiate off his body.

“The pressure is going to be uncomfortable at first. There’s no help for it. You’re very aroused, so that will make it easier. The pressure will get a lot better once I’m all the way in. Try to breathe through it and not clench up—just like you were doing last time. If it’s too bad, tell me and I’ll pull out.”

“Okay.” Once again, her arms felt awkward and in the way. She ended up putting her hands on Ander’s shoulders. “I’m ready,” she said, breathing deeply and forcing her pelvic muscles to stay relaxed.

She felt the tip of his cock nudging at her entrance. Then about an inch of penetration. It wasn’t bad. She took another deep breath. As she released it, he eased himself in a few inches more. More pressure now.

“All right?”

“Yeah,” she gasped. Her fingers had tightened on his shoulders.

Ander’s eyes never left her face as he pulled back slightly and readjusted. “Take three more deep breaths. When you let out your breath the third time, I’m going to go in a lot deeper.”

She nodded, tossing her head back and forth on the pillow for a moment as she fought against her instinctive reactions. Then she focused on breathing as Ander had directed.

On her third long exhale, she felt a significant increase in pressure. His slide into her channel was careful, and at one point he pulled back and re-angled before he pushed into her again. The discomfort was momentarily so intense she choked out a pained mew.

She heard Ander breathing above her, and he held himself very still, his cock sheathed in her body. “All right?”

Lori nodded mutely. The worst of the pain was already easing, but the discomfort remained. She felt too full, too tight, too much.

“Just tell me when you’re ready.” His voice was a little hoarse, which was unusual enough to cause her to look up at him. His expression was neutral, however. Just as professional as ever.

She lay for a minute or two, breathing, shifting a little beneath him, and trying to adjust to his size. Finally, she said, “Okay. I think I’m good. Thanks for being so patient.”

Ander stared down at her, his eyebrows drawing together slightly. “You can take as long as you need.”

Lori shook her head, a few strands of hair sticking to her hot face. “I feel pretty decent. You’re going to help me, aren’t you? Show me how to do this?”

With a small smile, he said, “Whatever you want.”

He eased his cock out halfway, then pitched his hips forward in an experimental thrust. “All right?”

“Yeah.” She felt overly stimulated but her nervousness was nearly gone. Instead, a surge of excitement coursed through her. She was doing this. She was having sex.

Ander began a slow, gentle rhythm, his cock sliding inside her in an increasingly pleasurable way. “You can move your hips,” he said after a minute. “See if you can match my rhythm.”

She did as he instructed, still clinging to his shoulders. It made the friction inside her feel even better.

“How is it?” Ander asked. It was hard to see in the darkened room, but she thought he might be perspiring a little.

“It’s good,” she admitted, “Still a little uncomfortable but nothing too bad.”

Ander adjusted above her, getting more leverage with this knees. “Let’s see if we can get you to come. I’m going to rub your clit, if that’s all right.”

“Yeah. Good.” Her excitement was rising up now even more, now that the worst was over. And her previous arousal was building back up. She wanted to come. Really wanted to come. “Can we go a little faster?” she asked, starting to get breathless again.

“Of course.”

Ander adjusted his weight onto his knees, using one straightened arm to brace himself above her. He accelerated his rhythm, his pelvis pumping quickly against hers. Then he squeezed his free arm between their bodies, down near where they were joined.

Lori gasped in pleasure when she felt firm pressure on her clit.

“Try to keep moving with me,” Ander said when she began to wriggle shamelessly in response.

She adjusted her motion, making sure she met each of his thrusts. The erotic momentum inside her was now climbing quickly. Her body tensed and her breathing disintegrated into urgent pants.

Ander’s head jerked slightly, his eyes cutting to the right. But his voice was low and soothing as he murmured, “That’s right. Good. You’re getting tighter, but remember not to clench up too much. You’ll enjoy it more if you relax.”

Lori didn’t want to relax. She wanted to snatch at the coiled pressure and force it to finally let go. Her body started to shake as waves of heat and cold washed over her. Ander’s rhythmic thrusts and the skillful press on her clit trapped her in erotic urgency. The only sounds she made were thick drags for air, and her fingers dug into Ander’s strong shoulders.

“You’re almost there, Lori.” Ander’s voice came as if from a blurry distance. “Try to breathe.”

She sucked in air. Then let it out in a slow exhale. Her body bounced desperately with her feet planted on the mattress and her legs bent up.

“Almost there,” Ander murmured, “One more breath.”

He was right. On the next exhale, all of her tension broke in pulses of rippling pleasure. Lori’s mouth opened wide in a silent cry as her body tried to bend backward.

Ander’s cock suddenly felt so much thicker and harder inside her. He slowed his thrusting until he was just making little pushes into her tightened channel. And he stopped moving completely when Lori’s body began to relax.

A little giggle escaped her.

Astonished, she tried to bite her lip over the silly sound, but another one rippled out without warning. She released Ander’s shoulder so she could clamp her hand over her mouth as she kept giggling.

It was an absolutely absurd thing to do. But she was overcome with dizzying relief, pride and accomplishment. She’d had sex at last. And it had been good. And she’d even managed to come.

Ander’s eyebrows went sky-high.

“Sorry,” she choked out, managing to get herself under control. There was more discomfort between her legs now—since the rising pleasure had faded and his cock was still stretching and filling her.

“Is this a good thing?” Ander asked, his eyes scanning her face.

“Yes,” she admitted. “It’s good. It was good. Thank you.” Before Ander could reply, she added, “Aren’t you going to come?”

“Only if you want me to.”

“Oh. Why wouldn’t I want you to come?”

“Some of my clients don’t. And some of them want to delay it for as long as possible. Women are often able to climax more than once. If you want, we can try…”

Lori made a face. “I think I’m going to be sore already. No need to push my luck. Why don’t you come now?”

“It might take a few minutes,” he said, his eyes oddly searching.

She shrugged. “That’s fine. I can practice some more.”

“Tell me if I’m too hard,” Ander shifted his position, bringing both of his arms down to brace himself. “Or if you change your mind.”

As Ander built up a new rhythm, fast and just a little harder than he’d been thrusting into her before, Lori tried to imagine what kind of selfish, heartless bitch would expect a man to fuck her to orgasm and then pull out without coming himself. Like he was nothing but a tool, nothing but a dildo.

Then she realized that was exactly how a lot of men had been using women for centuries—as objects designed only for male pleasure. Lori knew why most women ended up in prostitution. Odds were the woman had suffered some sort of abuse or victimization.

Lori wondered with a weird little clench if men were different. Or if Ander had been victimized in some way, physically or emotionally, in the past.

“Everything all right?” Ander asked thickly, mid-thrust.

Realizing she’d let her mind wander at an inopportune time, she blinked up at him. “Yeah. Sorry. Everything’s good. Keep going.”

He hesitated, so she began to pump up her hips, trying to match his earlier tempo. This appeared to convince him, so he began to thrust again. This time, she watched him, fascinated by the tension on his face and the focused look in his blue-gray eyes as he stared down at her.

They moved together well, she thought, and she did her best to synchronize the rocking of her pelvis with his. She could already feel a soreness in her channel, but it wasn’t bad. Ander was taking it pretty easy on her.

“Should I do anything else?” she asked, feeling a little breathless again. She knew she wasn’t going to come, but there was something exciting about watching the tension coil tighter and tighter in Ander’s face and body.

“You’re good,” he muttered. “You’re good.”

She was clinging to his shoulders, and she acutely felt something tickling her wrist. Shifting her eyes, she saw one of her brown hairs tangled in her hand. She clenched unconsciously in response to the tickling and wriggled her fingers, trying to brush the hair away.

“That’s good,” he grunted, jerking his head to the side abruptly. “You can keep doing that.”

Lori blinked once, keeping her expression blank. She couldn’t imagine how her little hand jiggle on his shoulder had pleased him. Maybe men really were different than women. He’d done a remarkable job of pleasing her, though, and if he liked it she would do it. So she rippled her fingers lightly along his shoulder, as she’d done before.

Ander blinked once, almost exactly as she had. Then he made a choked sound in his throat. Then another.

She gasped in shock and bewilderment as his weight suddenly lowered on top of her. His elbows had buckled and he was abruptly much closer than before. His face buried in her neck, he made more of those choked sounds and his body shook against hers.

Nothing, not even her orgasm, had felt as good as this did—the inexplicable, uninhibited collapse and his shuddering body against hers. His hips jerked with a few, clumsy, unpracticed thrusts as he huffed, his hot breath blowing against her skin.

For one dazed moment, she thought her little finger wiggle had snapped his control. But it only took a few seconds for her to process what was happening.

He was laughing. Trying desperately to hide and to stifle it, but he was definitely laughing.

“What’s so funny?” she demanded.

“Nothing.” With impressive restraint, he grew still and straightened his arms, pulling himself off of her again. “I’m sorry. Nothing was funny.” Only his eyes and his faintly twitching lips belied the word.

She narrowed her eyes. “You were laughing at me.”

“I wasn’t laughing,” he said, eyes wide now and mouth relaxed. “Sometimes, no matter how hard to try to control myself, something feels so good that I—”

Lori gave an outraged huff and interrupted, “What a load of crap! I know laughing when I hear it.” Then she realized suddenly why he was lying to her. Accidentally laughing at a client during sex must be a nightmare scenario for him. His job was to please her, no matter what. So her voice softened as she said, “I’m not going to get mad. I mean it. But if I did something stupid, I’d like to know about it.”

Ander let out a breath, and his mouth gave one more little twitch. “I was laughing, but not at you. You didn’t do anything stupid .It was my fault. My directions were unclear. When I said you could keep doing that, I didn’t mean the hand. You’d squeezed around me at the same time. That’s what I meant.”

Lori processed this. “Oh, I get it.” She choked on a laugh herself. “No wonder you lost it.” The more she thought about it, the funnier it got. As she laughed softly, she gasped out, “And I thought you were some weirdo who got off from a little tap on your shoulder.”

Ander had himself fully under control now, but he smiled as she giggled. “Sorry about that.”

“No, don’t apologize,” she said. “I told you I don’t want to pretend. Did you want to keep going, or have you lost your momentum?” He still felt very hard inside her, but the interruption must have distracted him.

“That’s up to you.”

“I said I’d like you to come, if you think you can.”

“I can. I’m almost there.”

Logically, she had trouble believing him, since surely laughing at her silliness would have been a turn off. But when he began to thrust again and she tried to pump her hips and squeeze her inner muscles around his cock, he was clearly not as controlled as he’d been earlier. His features twisted slightly and his breathing became louder. His thrusts got faster, then a little jerky.

She was definitely going to be sore afterwards, but there was something oddly pleasing, oddly compelling, about having a hot, hard, focused man about to lose it between her legs.

As silly as it sounded, she couldn’t help but feel a little proud of herself.

Ander jerked his head to the side and froze abruptly, the tension transforming on his face. He took a few ragged breaths and pushed against her a few final times.

He pulled out before she could fully process the alterations of his body—the softening muscles and relaxing tension. He carefully secured the condom as he slid his cock free, and the move made an embarrassing sucking sound and rubbed her raw inner walls painfully.

“Are you all right?” he asked, rolling over to swing his legs over the side of the bed. His eyes scanned her closely.

“Yeah,” she said honestly, “A little sore, but it was really good. Thank you.”

He gave her a little smile. “I’m going to take care of this, if that’s all right.”

At her affirmation, he picked up the vibrator and went into the bathroom to dispose of the condom. She heard water in the sink and figured he was cleaning up the vibrator while he was there.

Lori pulled down her chemise and stretched her stiff legs. Then she had a private giggle over her successful devirgining.

She knew it would have been better had she had an emotional connection with the man. She knew there was something missing in doing it the way she had. The sex had been good, but she knew it wasn’t a lie that sex was better with someone you loved. She wrote romance novels. As silly or high-blown as some of them were, romance writers at least understood the importance of love.

She’d done this on her own terms, though and the heavy weight of anxiety that had always been part of her thoughts on sex had now completely dissipated.

Ander returned to the room with a wet washcloth, which he used to gently clean between her legs. When she’d thanked him and he’d returned the washcloth to the bathroom, she invited him back to bed.

She had him until midnight, and she intended to take advantage of it. He stretched out beside her, rolling on his side and propping his head up on one bent arm. He was completely naked, and he was showing the long lines and rippling muscles of his body to their best advantage.

Lori stared at him in admiration for a minute until she realized he was posing for her. As always, the act was very subtle, sophisticated—nothing crude or gaudy about it. But he knew what he was doing. Women must leer at him all the time.

Because she wanted to talk to him and not get distracted, she leaned over and grabbed his boxers off the floor and tossed them over to him.

“Did you have questions for me?” he asked, pulling on his boxers. “Did you think it went well?”

“Yes. It went very well. Thanks so much being careful and taking your time. I can’t imagine it going better.”

Ander’s eyes narrowed as he studied her face. “There’s something you want to ask me.”

There was. A foolish, nagging question at the very back of her mind.

“Ask me.”

So Lori blurted it out, “Do you think I’ll be any good at it? I mean, I seemed to mess up a lot. And there was the stupid thing with the hand. If I don’t have you there guiding me through every step, do you think I’ll be any good at it?”

To her relief, Ander didn’t brush the question off. He paused as he considered it, and then he met her eyes soberly. “I don’t think any of that reflects your sexual capacities. You were nervous at first. And, even when you got over that, you were still a little self-conscious, I think.” He slanted her a look, as if checking her expression. Maybe to make sure she wasn’t offended. “When people are self-conscious, they tend to fall into a defined role, something that will make them feel safe. You took on the role of learner, which might be why you kept wanting directions. But once you’re past that, you’re going to be just fine.”

She let out a breath, oddly comforted by his matter-of-fact answer. He hadn’t been flattering her or trying to delude her into believing she was some sort of sex goddess. He’d told her his honest opinions.

Rubbing her belly absently, she thought about his words. She thought about them for a long time. The she finally said, “You know, I think you’re right about that self-consciousness thing. I never thought about it before, but that is what people do. How did you get so smart?”

Ander cocked an eyebrow at her. “My job provides me with a wide variety of experiences with human nature.”

She snorted. “I guess so.” Still thinking about Ander’s comments, she put a few more pieces together in her mind. She mused, “You know, I think maybe I intuitively knew that about self-conscious people even before you mentioned it. In one of my books, I had the heroine feel really self-conscious about her appearance. And she always acted—” Lori broke off, noticing a distinct expression of curiosity on Ander’s face.

For some obvious reasons, she wasn’t planning to tell Ander about her bestselling alternate identity. She used a penname for a reason, and she was very careful about keeping her private life private—especially something like this.

“You’re a writer?” he asked. He appeared genuinely interested.

“Yeah,” she admitted, figuring it was all right as long as he didn’t know her penname. “I write novels. Romance novels.” She snickered. “Pretty funny, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think one needs vast experience with sex to write a love scene in a romance novel.”

“Hey,” she said, immediately bristling at any apparent slam on her genre. “Don’t be snide about romance novels. Some of them are silly, but there are novels in every genre that are silly.”

“I’m not slamming romance novels,” he assured her with a half-smile. “I’ve read a lot of them myself. Most women who come to me want to have their romantic fantasies fulfilled. It’s emotional as much as sexual for them. Romance novels are one of the best expressions of those romantic fantasies.”

“Wow,” she breathed, eyeing him with faint awe. “You really do your research.”

He lifted his shoulder in a half-shrug. “Of course.”

Irresistibly compelled, she asked, “So who’s your favorite romance writer?”

Ander thought for a moment. Then he made a face. “I guess it will sound clichéd, since she’s everyone else’s favorite too. But Claire Kent is probably the best I’ve read. She gives her characters a humanness that pushes them beyond the average. Plus, she has a great sense of humor.”

With effort, Lori kept her face perfectly bland. Claire Kent was her penname. And she was thrilled beyond measure by the casual, thoughtful compliments Ander had just given her writing. He obviously didn’t know he was talking about her. He looked leisurely and reflective.

Which implied he really meant what he said.

“I like her too, of course,” Lori said. “But everyone can’t write bestsellers. Some of the rest of us are pretty good too.”

Ander chuckled. “If you give me a couple of titles, I’ll be happy to read your books. Maybe I already have.”

“I doubt it. But who else do you like?”

Ander told her about some of the romance writers he liked, and Lori had a fabulous time quizzing and arguing with him about his opinions on one of her favorite topics. Before she knew it, she glanced at the clock and saw it was eleven forty-five.

She gasped. “Wow. It’s almost midnight.”

Ander glanced over, and she could have sworn she saw a faint flash of surprise on his face too. “Did you want to do anything else in the last fifteen minutes?”

“No. I’ve definitely had all I can take for tonight. You can take a shower, if you want.”

Ander thanked her. Then picked up his clothes and went into the bathroom. Lori pulled up the covers, deciding she felt a little chilly.

When Ander returned, fully clothed and characteristically cool and polished again, he picked up the lube, extra condom, and the DVD and returned them to his case.

Lori got up and joined him by the table. “Thanks again. I mean it. I can’t imagine anyone else making it as easy for me as you did.”

“You’re welcome. I hope you feel fully satisfied.”

“Definitely. You’ll get another glowing referral, if anyone asks me about you.”

He flashed her a quick smile, and she slid the envelope of cash toward him. As he put the money in his pocket, he said, “You can always schedule another engagement. There’s plenty more we can do.”

“No, thanks,” she said mildly, stifling her urge to snicker at his excellent business skills. “I just wanted to do this. I’m good now.”

“All right. Just email me if you change your mind.”

She walked him to the door, where they looked at each other for a minute. Then Lori asked one final question. “How many virgins have you had sex with?”

Ander glanced away, and she could tell he was trying to compose the best answer.

“The truth,” she said. “No pretending. How many.”

He let out a breath and met her eyes. “Just one. You’re my first.”

“Oh.” She swallowed. “You’re my first too.”

They said goodbye then. And as Lori watched him start down the hall, she acknowledged that he was probably one of the most fascinating people she’d ever met.

And really, really good in bed.

She’d done what she wanted to do. She was a virgin no longer. Now she could approach the rest of her life without the burden that had been troubling her for years.

Getting Sabrina to research male escorts for her had been an excellent idea.

***

The next week, Lori emailed Ander asking if she could schedule another engagement.

He replied within the hour, saying he’d had a cancellation for the following Thursday.

She’d decided she might as well get a little more experience while she was at it, since he was available.

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