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 them, 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 was 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 ended, 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 a 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 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 the 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 in 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 the edge of the bed next to her and reached over 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 those, 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. 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 inside her, 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 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, 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 at 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 with 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 a 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.