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  “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.”

  Two

  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 edg
e 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.