“I’m telling you,” Lori insisted, trying so hard not to laugh she almost slopped her champagne. “He wasn’t leering at my cleavage.”

Phil Rothe—lean, dark, sexy, and rugged with his five o’clock shadow and deeply tanned face—gave her a rakish grin. “Deny it all you want. I know where his eyes were lingering. And it wasn’t on your necklace. And he perked up even more when I told him you wrote sexy romances under a penname.”

Lori moved an unconscious hand to her jade pendant on a gold chain she’d paired with her deep green evening gown. “Phil, he’s about a hundred years old! And the chair of the museum board!”

“Even prestigious museum boards boast pervy old men,” Phil murmured, moving an arm around her waist as they strolled out of the elegant ballroom, clustered with well-dressed, affluent guests, and into the wide hallway that led to rooms with the artwork being showcased tonight. “He was definitely sneaking a peak at your cleavage. And, since you chose to wear that dress, I can hardly be surprised.”

Sniffing disdainfully, Lori gave him a pseudo-cool look. She and Phil had gone to lunch a few days ago and had a great time. So far their date to the museum fundraiser was a success as well. Phil was smart, funny, and handsome, and she liked his blunt manner and quick humor. She even liked his books. “This dress shows only a perfectly respectable amount of cleavage.”

Phil’s eyes lingered obviously at the deep crease and shadow at the neckline of her gown. While it wasn’t so revealing as to be crude, the dress was sexier than anything she’d ever owned before. He lifted his dark eyebrows and drawled, “Yeah.”

She chuckled and came to a stop in the middle of the hallway, next to a huge mirror with an elaborate, gilded frame. A quick glance in the mirror showed her to be looking quite nice this evening, with upswept hair and more makeup than she usually wore. She twisted her neck slightly to make sure there was no longer any hint of a bruise from where Ander had bit her the week before.

She was a little surprised that Ander hadn’t asked permission before he’d marked her, but she hadn’t minded the bruise, really. It evoked very pleasurable memories. She was glad it had faded in time for this evening, though.

She slanted a teasing look over at Phil. “Obviously, elderly chairmen of museum boards don’t hold exclusive rights to perviness.”

Phil took a step closer to her. “Who exactly did you have in mind?”

Feeling a little thrill of excitement at his obvious attraction, Lori took a step back. “I had in mind a certain younger, smug lawyer who has recently taken a turn at being a writer.”

With a low laugh, Phil pushed her gently against the wall in the hallway. Most of the guests were still in the ballroom, where the welcoming address had just been made. “Guilty as charged,” he said in a gruff voice.

Then he took her face in his hands and kissed her.

Lori didn’t have much experience, but she suspected that Phil was a very good kisser. His mouth moved with ease and confidence against hers as he gently licked the line of her lips.

He’d kissed her very briefly after their lunch date on Wednesday, but this kiss quickly became something else. She opened for him unconsciously and wrapped her arms around his neck while he pressed the hard line of his body against hers.

They kissed for longer and deeper than was probably wise in the middle of a hall at a stuffy museum fundraiser. While Lori didn’t feel any urgent sexual desire, she was jittery and breathless when she heard voices at the other end of the hall and pulled away.

An older man and woman promenaded through the hall, giving the flushed couple still entwined against the wall a very disapproving look.

Lori stifled a giggle and shared a guilty look with Phil, who still had one hand at her waist and the other cupping the back of her head.

Then her eyes drifted toward the ballroom again, to see who else had spotted her in such a disgraceful position.

Her giggle died a sudden death.

Ander stood about halfway down the hall, frozen in place, staring at her with a blank intensity that took her breath away. He held two glasses of champagne in his hands, but his eyes were fixed on her face.

Lori froze too, feeling like a weight of shock and disorientation had slammed into her from above. She’d done a really good job of compartmentalizing her sessions with Ander—allowing them to have nothing to do with the rest of her life, enjoying them as one would a harmless indulgence.

But the barriers between her interactions with him and the rest of her life had been abruptly, brutally ripped away.

She was on a date with Phil. A good date. Something she hadn’t experienced in a really long time. And she had fucked Ander exactly a week ago in a plush hotel room. Fucked him twice. He’d made her come over and over again. She had paid him at the end of the night.

And both men were now in the same hallway.

Her cheeks burned so hotly she knew her skin had flamed. She shifted restlessly until Phil dropped his arms and stepped back. He was looking over at Ander curiously. “A friend of yours?”

Lori had absolutely no idea what to say.

She was saved from answering by the arrival of the woman who must be Ander’s date for the evening. Lori had met the Sarah Jacoby a few times in the past. They weren’t friends but they had done some work together in New York for a national charity that raised money for local literacy programs.

Sarah was in her mid-thirties and had recently gotten divorced from a New York business mogul. She must be visiting Seattle this weekend.

She’d obviously found a painless way of getting a date for the fundraiser.

“Michael,” Sarah said, hurrying over to take Ander’s arms. “Sorry. I got waylaid by Amelia Bernard.” She glanced over toward Lori and Phil. “Lori! How nice to see you again. I saw you earlier across the room, but couldn’t say hi.”

Lori steeled herself, took Phil’s hand, and led him over to the other couple. “Hi, Sarah. Getting bored with New York?”

Sarah flashed a dimple. She was Lori’s height but about twenty pounds heavier and ten years older. She wasn’t unattractive, with curly dark hair and a cherubic face. “Actually, just trying to annoy the ex by maintaining the position on the museum board that he pulled strings for me to get. He thought I would just slink away after the divorce. Silly man. This is my date. Michael Blakely.”

Lori shook hands with the man she knew as Ander Lourdes. She supposed he probably used whatever name his date wanted him to use when he escorted a woman to a social event. “Lori Addison. This is Phil Rothe.”

Although Ander had obviously been taken by surprise at the sight of her tonight, he’d recovered with remarkable composure. His expression was cool and neutral as he shook hands with Phil and they made some innocuous small talk.

Lori was relieved that her voice was natural and friendly, although she was horribly distracted by the way Ander kept his arm around Sarah’s waist, his fingers occasionally giving a little caress.

Finally, Sarah said, “I guess we should go check out some of that art.” She smiled besottedly up at Ander. “You’ll have to explain it to me, I’m afraid.”

“I’ll be happy to,” he murmured, his eyes resting on her face in such a way that Lori could have sworn he was in love with the woman. Then, in a voice she could barely hear, he added to Sarah, “Although no piece of art on the wall could be as exquisite as you.”

Lori almost gagged.

He was doing his job. Playing a part. This was what his services entailed. Acting the romantic escort, making a woman feel like she was the most important person in the world, whether or not the evening ended with sex.

She managed to mumble out a farewell as Sarah and Ander walked on. She’d known—she’d known—that this was what Ander did. He was a male escort. Among other things, he fucked women for money. She was hardly his only client. He had a very busy schedule.

It was just that knowing was different than seeing.

“Ex-boyfriend?” Phil asked, studying her face.

Lori couldn’t possibly tell him the truth—not on a second date—so she accepted this as the easiest of excuses for her reaction. “Yeah. Something like that.”

“Maybe you’ll tell me about him sometime,” Phil murmured, slipping his hand around her waist as they strolled more slowly toward the galleries.

She shot him a sharp look.

“I’m not blind, you know,” he explained, giving her a little smile. “You could cut the intensity between the two of you with a knife. But there’s no hurry. We have lots of time.”

Her smile up at him was genuine—made up of relief and affection. What a great guy he was. “Maybe I’ll tell you sometime.”

She thought she’d gotten over the worst of the hurdles in her initial encounter with Ander. But she kept seeing him and Sarah for the rest of the evening. And Ander always seemed to be whispering intimately into her ear, or stroking her back, or discreetly holding her hand.

And the truth was it bugged Lori. A lot. However irrational, her encounters with Ander had felt isolated, cocooned, cut off from the rest of the world. They’d been special to her. Not because she thought they shared romance or a real emotional connection. But because she’d learned so much about herself and about human nature from her interactions with him. Plus, she’d just simply enjoyed it.

And seeing him at his job with another woman made the whole thing feel...tawdry.

Maybe it was.

***

Two days later, Lori arrived at the familiar hotel room a little later than normal. She had just enough time to bathe, shave, apply lotion, and dress before seven o’clock.

She’d seriously considered canceling. All day yesterday, she’d begun to compose an apologetic email to Ander, saying she didn’t need his services anymore. She just wasn’t sure she could continue as they had, after being slapped in the face with reality on Saturday night.

Plus, Phil had asked her out again. Obviously, things were just at the beginning—casual and non-exclusive—but she felt like they had some potential and paying for sex on the side seemed like it might not be the best way to begin a relationship.

Lori had finally decided to keep her engagement with Ander, mostly because she felt bad about backing out at the last minute. She genuinely liked Ander, and it felt kind of heartless to blow him off with an email, after they’d had such a long-standing professional relationship. She’d give it a try. If things felt weird or uncomfortable, she just wouldn’t schedule another appointment.

She was just putting on the little cashmere cardigan—a weave so fine it was almost transparent—over her dark blue silk lounge set when she heard the knock at the door.

As she swung open the door with a smile of greeting, she was greeted to a sight that was like a kick in the gut.

Ander stood—as cool and handsome as always in all black. On his face was a practiced smile. Urbane and sensual and so fake Lori wanted to scratch it from his skin.

Definitely not a propitious beginning.

“Hi,” she said, stepping aside to let him into the room.

Ander murmured a greeting, and she followed him to the table where he always left his case. The ubiquitous envelope of cash was lying on the table as usual.

Feeling more awkward than she had since the first couple of engagements, Lori lowered herself into a chair. Figuring they might as well get it out in the open, she said, “So it was kind of weird, huh?”

Ander seated himself in the other chair and arched his eyebrows at her coolly. She wasn’t a big fan of that expression either.

“Seeing each other on Saturday,” she said in response to his silent question. “Wasn’t it kind of weird?”

“I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable. You handled it fine.”

Lori’s jaw dropped slightly as she stared at Ander. She hadn’t thought the discomfort had only been on her side. He was definitely acting prickly tonight. Not at all like his normal self. “You didn’t find it a little weird too?”

Ander’s eyes were bland and unrevealing. “No. Not really. But I’ve had years of experience in this. I can understand why it might be awkward for you. In fact, I wondered if you might cancel our engagement tonight.”

She swallowed, knowing how close she’d come to doing just that. It was a little unnerving to learn that their encounter at the fundraiser hadn’t bothered Ander at all. She knew it had surprised him. His expression had revealed at least that, but apparently it hadn’t affected him otherwise.

She was determined to not pretend anything, not add any other layer of unnaturalness to her relationship with Ander. “I thought about it. A lot. It just seemed kind of...I don’t know. It would have made me feel shitty.”

Ander cocked one eyebrow, looking slightly amused, albeit not in a warm way. “Why would you feel shitty? About my losing a client?”

She shifted uncomfortably, wishing Ander wasn’t being so cool and standoffish tonight. If he would just be himself, they could have gotten through this with less awkwardness. “No. I mean, not really. But we’ve been doing this for a while now. And it seemed kind of rude to just cancel your services over email.” She stared down at her hands. “I don’t know.”

“Do you want to cancel my services now? Face to face?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I don’t know.” Tired of feeling like a fool, she raised her eyes and scowled at him. “You don’t have to be snotty about it, anyway. It’s not that strange. I feel bad if I have to find a new hairdresser.”

Ander met her eyes evenly. “I believe you. But if you have someone at home who can do your hair to your satisfaction, you have no reason to pay a professional.”

Lori felt a little flicker of amusement at the way he’d stretched the analogy, but she understood what he was saying. “Yeah. I guess so. That’s not the case with me. Not yet, anyway.”

“So you haven’t yet had the chance to practice your new experience?” Despite the smooth, indirect question, for the first time she saw something other than coolness in his eyes. “I had assumed, from what I saw—”

“It was a first date,” she explained. “A second date, actually. Obviously, if things become more serious, I’ll have to...to discontinue our engagements.”

“Of course.”

“It’s nothing personal. You know how much I respect you and your...your talents. It’s just that...”

“There’s no need for an explanation, Lori. We have a business arrangement, and it can be terminated at any time. I hadn’t expected you to be a long-term client anyway.”

She sucked in a breath, feeling oddly insulted by his impersonal words. “What does that mean?”

“It wasn’t an insult. I just meant that, of course, you would like to move on to a permanent relationship with a man you could love.”

His words were true. She wanted a healthy, committed relationship with a man she loved and who loved her. But something about the way Ander had worded his comment caused her belly to twist. “Oh. Yeah.”

Ander was silent for a minute, sitting perfectly still in his chair. Then he cleared his throat. “Did you want to proceed with our engagement tonight?”

She stared at him, wondering what had happened, why he had turned into this poised, detached stranger instead of the Ander she’d known for the last few months. He’d never been emotional or open or vulnerable, but he’d seemed real. In a way he didn’t tonight.

“Well?” he prompted, raising his eyebrows again. “I would have guessed you weren’t in the mood, but maybe my charms are simply too irresistible.”

Then he smiled at her. That smile she couldn’t stand.

“What’s wrong with you?” she snarled, nearly snapping her teeth with frustration.

Ander blinked, the smile fading abruptly. “Excuse me?”

“Why are you acting this way tonight? Totally fake.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lori. We were having a conversation. Obviously, I behave differently when I talk than I do when I provide other servic—”

“Don’t give me that crap. That’s not what I’m talking about. You’re not acting like yourself. You’re all cold and...and fake.”

“I am myself. This is me.” He met her eyes with a look that was almost a challenge.

“No, it’s not. I mean, this isn’t how you’ve been with me before. And I don’t like it.” She stuck out her chin and glared at him, wishing he’d just break down and get mad at her like a normal person.

“My apologies.” He stood up and picked up his case. “In that case, I’ll just—”

Lori stood up too with a gasp. “I didn’t say you should go. I just wanted you to act like yourself again.”

Ander shook his head and started to walk toward the door, still perfectly polite, perfectly cool. “Obviously, this isn’t what you want anymore. I think it’s best if we just call it off. I wish you the best.”

And then the bastard just walked out the door.

Lori had been expecting an argument. She’d actually kind of wanted an argument—since then at least Ander would have been genuine. She certainly hadn’t expected him to just leave.

She suddenly realized that she didn’t want him to leave. She wasn’t ready for this to end yet.

She went after him, catching him just as he stepped onto the elevator. She made it onto the elevator too before the doors slid shut.

“Why are you leaving?” she demanded, glaring at him heatedly. “You’re acting like a jerk. We were having a conversation. There’s no reason for you to walk out on me.”

He lifted the eyebrows again. “The conversation was going nowhere. I understand that you feel uncomfortable about seeing me when you were with your boyfriend Saturday night. It’s perfectly natural. And you needn’t feel any guilt about discontinuing my services.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” she snapped, beginning with the most irrelevant of her objections. “And none of that is the point. You’re not acting like yourself. That’s all I wanted.”

“Lori, you’re presuming too much.” He wasn’t looking at her now. He’d pressed the button for the ground floor and was staring at the numbers light up as the elevator started to descend. His voice was still cool and controlled, but his jaw and shoulders had tensed. “We’ve never had a personal relationship.”

“I’m not saying we did!” Her voice was loud, and she wished he would just get angry, show some real emotion instead of the impersonal mask he put on. “I know it was professional. But I thought we ...we worked well together. And I told you I didn’t want to pretend anything, so I thought you were...were basically being yourself when we talked.”

“You presume too much.” His eyes never left the lit numbers, but she noticed that his hand was clenched around the handle of his case.

“Stop saying that,” she bit out. The hotel was built in the forties, and the elevator was one of the old fashioned ones with a thick brass rail running across the middle of the walls and an emergency stop that didn’t require a key. Afraid the elevator would reach the bottom before they could finish this conversation, Lori pulled the emergency stop button, relieved when no alarm went off. “I’m not making this up. I’m not imagining things. I know how you normally act with me, and I know that’s not how you’re acting now. What the hell is wrong with you? Did I offend you somehow?”

“You didn’t offend me.” He reached for the emergency stop, but she planted herself in front of him to keep him from starting the elevator up again.

“Well, then why are you acting like you’re mad?” she demanded.

“I’m not mad.” His expression was still controlled, but a little muscle was twitching on one side of his jaw and his voice sounded slightly impatient. “Lori, can you please get out of the way?”

“No.” She was starting to understand now. He was mad. This coolness must be some sort of instinctive cover to mask his real feelings. She had no idea why he would be angry with her, however, and the idea really bothered her. “If I offended you in some way, I’d like to know how. I never wanted to. I’ve always tried to...to be nice.”

Finally, he met her eyes again. “Lori, you don’t have to be nice. You pay me for my services.”

She almost sputtered in outrage. “What the hell does that mean? Of course, I have to be nice. You’re a human being, aren’t you? What the fuck did your father do to you to make you think you don’t deserve to be treated with dignity and humanity?”

She hadn’t really meant to voice that last question. Her volatile feelings and confusion got the best of her. But she had voiced it. Almost spit it out in his face.

It finally broke the iron control Ander had been using to rein in his feelings.

He turned on her abruptly, stepping forward, pressing her back against the wall with his intense presence rather than force. “Lori,” he began, his voice thick and low. He planted one hand on the wall next to her head. “I fuck you. You pay me. That’s our arrangement. That doesn’t entitle you to invade my privacy, demand to see the ‘real me,’ or pry into whatever motivations I might have for doing what I do.”

She gulped. She’d never seen him like this before. His blue-gray eyes held hers imprisoned. He was almost pulsing with some sort of intense emotion, and the force of it left her trembling and boneless. “I didn’t mean ...” She had to start over when her voice cracked. “I didn’t mean I wanted you to spill your guts. I just didn’t want you to act so hard and cold. You’re mad at me, and I don’t know why.”

“I’m not mad,” he said again, although his entire body belied his words. He was coiled so tightly he was practically shuddering. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and his eyes had ignited.

Absurdly, Lori felt her body respond. She knew it was entirely inappropriate. They were in the middle of a very bizarre argument, and sex should be the last thing on her mind. But he looked so intense, almost passionate. For once, he seemed to be expressing something real—with his body language if not with his words.

Her inner muscles clenched, and she felt her nipples tighten. Hoped it wasn’t visible through the slinky silk of her camisole.

“You’re sure acting mad,” she snapped back. “You look like you want to rip my head off.”

“Lori.” His voice was even thicker than before, and it ridiculously made her think about sex. He leaned his face toward her and gritted out against her ear, “Lori, give this up. If you want to keep our appointment, we can go back upstairs. But my private thoughts are none of your concern.”

She shuddered. He wasn’t even touching her, but she felt him all over her skin. Blazing with heat and desire, she still managed to hold up her end of the argument. “I told you I don’t want you to spill your guts. Keep your private thoughts to yourself. Just tell me how I made you mad.”

“For the fourth time,” Ander rasped, still speaking into her ear. “I’m not mad.”

She shifted restlessly against the wall, dying for some sort of friction against her skin. Her squirming caused her to brush up against Ander.

She felt something. Something that shocked her so much her mouth fell open. Her lower belly had brushed against the front of Ander’s trousers.

He was hard.

He must have seen her reaction. He must know that she knew he was aroused. He didn’t acknowledge it in any way, though. He’d pulled back enough to look her in the eye and ask hoarsely, “Tell me why you’ve continued to schedule engagements with me.”

She was too confused and overwhelmed and turned-on and shaky to even begin to make up a lie. So she gasped out the truth. “Because I like having sex with you.”

He nodded, as if he’d known she would say that. “So why do you keep making this more complicated than it is?”

A home question. Lori had no answer for him.

His hand was still planted next to her head, trapping her against the wall. He was hard. Aroused. As aroused as she was.

Unable to hold herself back any longer, she reached out and grabbed him by the hips. Pressed his pelvis against her. Rubbed herself against the bulge she felt and almost moaned at the resulting sensations.

Then she realized how shamelessly she’d groped him, when it wasn’t clear they were in the midst of one of their sessions, and she dropped her hands abruptly with a gasp. “Sorry!”

Ander put down his case, which he’d been holding in one hand all along. Then he planted his second hand on the wall on the other side of her head. “Lori?”

“I didn’t mean ...” she began, her cheeks blazing. “I mean, if you didn’t want to keep the appointment tonight, I shouldn’t have—”

“We can keep the appointment,” he rasped, his eyes raking over her face. “Do you want to do this here?”

In the elevator. In between floors ten and eleven in an expensive, old-fashioned Seattle hotel.

“Yes,” she breathed, arching against the wall so she could rub her aching nipples against his chest.

Without another word, he buried his face in her neck, mouthing and nibbling and kissing in an urgent pattern she couldn’t begin to follow. His arms went around her, pressing her body tightly against his. Then he began to make small, rhythm thrusts, rocking his erection against her middle.

She knew he was really turned on. He couldn’t possibly have done any sort of mental thing to get himself ready, since he’d assumed they wouldn’t be having sex today.

He must be aroused by her. Genuinely aroused. By her. Lori. The knowledge sent a wild thrill up her spine that intensified her body’s sensations.

She moaned in his arms, grabbing at his back, trying to yank his shirttails out from his trousers. Before she could get very far, Ander had bent down farther, mouthing one breast and then the other through the silk of her camisole.

As he suckled, one of his hands dipped in at her waistband and slid down between her legs. She bit down on her lower lip as she felt his fingers stroke her intimate flesh.

He would feel how wet and aroused she already was. As aroused as he was.

Without waiting for her permission, Ander freed his hand from between her thighs and then, with one smooth move, pulled her silk lounge pants down over her hips. As he did so, she fumbled with his belt and the zipper.

They were in a public elevator. For the moment, it was stopped, but they both knew they had no time to dally.

Ander straightened up and released her for just long enough to pull a condom packet out of his case. Once he’d rolled it on, he cupped her bottom with both hands and heaved her up so she was propped on the brass railing that spanned the middle of the elevator walls.

It wasn’t much support, but Ander used his body to hold her in place. He spread her legs and sank into her, pushing her back against the wall on his initial in-stroke.

For the first time, he hadn’t used any lubricant. He hadn’t needed any.

Lori gasped in pleasure as he penetrated her, the full substance of his cock filling her completely. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist to brace herself more securely, and she clung desperately to his shoulders.

“Fast,” she said on a taken breath, tossing her head restlessly against the wall as her body screamed for friction. “Hard. Please.”

He began to thrust, his motion limited by their precarious position. His hips pumped against flesh, his cock pushing into her slippery passage with the urgent speed and force she needed to feel.

“So good,” she breathed, the words barely audible. She squeezed him with her thighs and with her intimate muscles. “So good,” she breathed again, on every one of his drives inside her.

Ander had bent his neck to bury his face against the side of her throat again. She felt his hot breath on her skin. His lips and tongue and teeth. He moved his mouth along her neck, shoulder, and up to her jaw.

His mouth was so close to hers now that all it would take was a slight shift of her neck for them to kiss.

They didn’t kiss though. Ander’s thrusts grew shorter and faster, and Lori dug her fingers into the skin beneath his collar. Her position wasn’t entirely comfortable but everything felt so incredibly good. She didn’t think she would come. She hadn’t had enough clitoral stimulation. But she didn’t even care.

Something about the intensity of their coupling felt as good as any orgasm she’d ever experienced.

Ander’s pelvis pistoned against her, and he shifted his neck again so his mouth was almost at her ear. Their cheeks were almost pressed together. His was as hot as hers felt. “Lori,” he rasped.

She didn’t know if it was a question or an expression of pleasure. She answered instinctively. “It feels so good. You come,” she panted. “I want you to come.”

His breathing accelerated even more as his whole body started to shake. She’d never experienced anything like it. All the shuddering angst that he’d been trying to stifle earlier seemed on the verge of imploding in her arms.

Her eyes blurred over and her nerve endings buzzed with pleasure. She wasn’t working up toward any climax, but the whole thing felt like one long high.

Ander arched his neck forward again, lowering his mouth once more to the crook of her neck. She cried out loudly when she felt his teeth bite down into her flesh. Then his whole body pulsed and jerked as he came with an extended guttural sound.

They held the position for a few moments as his body slowly started to soften. Lori’s legs felt stiff and her feet were losing circulation, but she didn’t want to unwrap her legs. Ander hadn’t yet lifted his head. He just kept panting against her skin.

And then a scratchy voice sounded in the quiet elevator without warning. “The emergency stop was pulled. Is everything all right?”

Lori nearly jumped in astonishment, and Ander pulled back, gently extricating himself from Lori’s legs and pulling his cock out of her while taking care with the condom. When he’d set her back on the floor and she’d started to pull on her pants, he found the call button and spoke into the speaker. “Everything is fine.”

He pulled the emergency stop, and the elevator jerked into motion. They got off on the ninth floor so they wouldn’t have to face security or maintenance or whomever was probably waiting for the elevator on the ground floor. Instead, they took the second elevator back up to Lori’s room.

There, they got into bed and Ander attended to Lori with slow, leisurely foreplay. He brought her to climax with his hand three times before he put on another condom and entered her again.

He rested most of his weight on her and taught her how, if he slid upward slightly and they made a gentle, rocking motion, they could stimulate her clit with the base of his cock. After the urgency of their fuck in the elevator, both of them could go slow, and Lori found the new position deeply enjoyable.

Their faces were close again, their cheeks brushing against each other. And the mingled texture of their breathing was the only sound besides the soft, rhythmic shaking of the bed.

Once again, she had to tell him to come, and she came just before he did, releasing a low moan as her hips rode out her orgasm.

When he got up to take care of the condom, she pulled up the covers, feeling chilly at his absence.

She reflected about how strange it was that he always waited for her permission before he came. He was always so in control.

Although he hadn’t really felt controlled in the elevator tonight.

She shifted restlessly under the covers, feeling a strange twisting of her belly. The comfortable professionalism of their encounters didn’t feel quite so comfortable anymore.

Ander returned from the bathroom wearing his boxers and he went over to pour two glasses from the bottle of wine she’d ordered from room service.

He handed her a glass and then he sat down in one of the chairs to sip his.

She wondered if it was significant that he didn’t get back in bed with her.

“I never expected to do it in an elevator,” she said, mostly for something to say.

He gave her a half-smile. He didn’t look tense and coiled anymore. He looked drained. Kind of pale. And really tired. “We were lucky not to get caught. I’ll have to check with security to see if they have us on tape.”

Lori gulped and covered her mouth with one hand.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”

She wouldn’t be surprised if he had some sort of contact in every important hotel in Seattle. “Thanks.” She paused. And then found the courage to ask, “Are we...are we okay?”

Ander smiled again. It wasn’t the smile she despised, but it wasn’t that irresistible twitching of his lips either. His smile was slight and half-exhausted. “Yes. Of course.”

“I didn’t mean to pry into your privacy or anything,” she began, remembering what he’d said in the elevator. “I just—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said again, with a dismissive gesture. “We’re fine.”

Things didn’t feel exactly fine to Lori. There was an odd tension in the air between them that hadn’t existed before. She wasn’t sure if it was coming from her or from Ander or from both of them. But she knew she wasn’t mistaken about it.

Searching for something casual to say, she rubbed the sore spot on her neck with one hand. “Now I’m probably going to have a bruise again,” she complained, making sure it was clear she was teasing. She craned her neck to see in one of the mirrors. “Thanks a lot.”

The corner of Ander’s mouth quirked up. “Sorry about that.”

His expression eased some of the discomfort in her chest. So she sustained the mood. “Don’t be. It was really hot. I wouldn’t have thought I’d like that.”

“A little pain can go a long way,” he said, in the voice he always used to give her advice or instructions.

“I guess so. I’m not sure I’d want much more than that, though,” she added honestly, mulling over memories of her own physical responses to stimulation. Following that train of thought, she asked idly, “I guess some people do though. Do you lose a lot of clients by only doing the romantic thing?” At his questioning look, she explained, “What we talked about last week—about not doing all the S&M stuff.”

“Oh,” he said with an enlightened look. He shook his head. “No. I don’t think I’ve lost any.”

Relieved to find a subject—however unusual—that felt more like their normal interaction, Lori pursued it. “So it’s not all that popular?”

“It depends on what you mean by popular. There’s a small percentage of the population that’s into that lifestyle, but there’s a whole industry built around it. And, in general, those who participate in that lifestyle want to engage in the culture as a whole rather than using the occasional services of someone like me.”

“Huh.” Lori thought about it for a minute. “If recent erotic romances are to be believed, most women are really into stuff like that.”

Ander chuckled and shook his head. “But that’s the stuff of fantasies. Most women who get turned on reading about it wouldn’t actually want to live it out. It might turn them on in fantasies, but it wouldn’t in real life. Tell me the truth. What would you do if I tied you up, muzzled you, and started to whip you?”

Lori thought about all the hot sex scenes she’d read featuring such activities. Then she honestly examined her own nature. She snickered. “I’d have you arrested for assault.”

He returned her smile. “Exactly. I know I’m making a generalization and everyone is unique and has their own needs, desires, and expressions of feeling. But, in my experience, the majority of women would still rather be genuinely loved than just fucked.”

For some reason, at his final words—as matter-of-fact as they were—she felt a stab of aching knowledge shoot through her heart.

She didn’t know about the rest of the women in the world, but for her at least his words were true. She would rather have a man she could love and who really loved her than just be fucked, no matter how skillful the man who was doing the fucking.

She didn’t regret her sessions with Ander, but she finally had to admit to herself that they couldn’t last forever. Already, it was starting to feel a little strange to her—as if it wasn’t as impersonal and professional as it should be.

Now that she had a potential relationship with Phil, was this thing with Ander what she really wanted?

When she looked back at him, she saw he’d been studying her closely. “Shall we set another appointment?” he asked.

Put on the spot, Lori was slammed with a wave of confusion. She had no idea what she wanted to do. “Um, I’m not sure what my schedule will be.” That was true. She didn’t know if Phil would ask her out again. “Why don’t I email you and let you know?”

Ander nodded, no expression on his face. “Sounds good.”

He showered and dressed after that. And she gave him the cash and walked him to the door like usual. Their goodbye seemed to be more final than usual, and Lori couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever see him again as he walked down the hall, away from her.

She felt weird. And disturbed. And upset. And kind of sad.

But she knew she needed to face reality. She couldn’t pursue a serious relationship and fuck a gigolo on the side. Maybe some men did it, but she couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

If given the choice, she would rather have a man to love than pay a man to fuck her.

***

Two days later, Lori sent a long, rambling, apologetic email to Ander, explaining she would no longer need his services. Phil had asked her out again, and she was going to focus on that for the time being.

Ander sent her a brief, impersonal reply, saying he’d enjoyed working with her and to keep him in mind for any referrals.

And that was it. Lori inexplicable experiment with a male escort had come to an end.

She had another date with Phil on Friday night, so at least she could look forward to that.