What She Needs - Lacey Alexander [115]
“I just got out,” she reminded him.
“But looking at you in that leopard print got me all hot and bothered. Come help me cool down.”
And when Brent pushed to his feet and held his hand out to her, it was invitation Jenna couldn’t resist.
As Brent prepared for the elaborate fantasy that night, he couldn’t get Jenna off his mind.
Maybe that’s because you spent the whole damn day with her.
He really hadn’t planned it—he really had gone to the pool only to catch some rays and relax. And it would have seemed pretty shitty, all things considered, to see her there and not hang out with her. Never mind the instant joy that had come over him when he’d spotted that Civil War book and realized she was there.
But why the hell did you tell her the whole melodrama about your family?
Hell, he had no idea. He could only attribute it to a lack of sleep. And that it was October, which meant Christmas was coming, and sometimes he got a little lonely at that time of year. But he handled it fine—he had plenty of friends here to spend the holidays with; the Hotel Erotique was good for turning people into adult orphans, it seemed.
Now he regretted opening up to her because, like so much else he’d done with her, it was just a bad idea—it reinforced the escalating emotions between them. Idiot, he chided himself as he selected another period dress for her to wear tonight, this one a more elaborate ice blue brocade trimmed in ivory lace.
Of course, he’d also told her about having had sex with other men—since she’d asked. Even upon realizing it wasn’t as easy for him to talk about as other sex. There, at the resort, it was commonplace—sex was sex was sex and there was no judgment. But with her, maybe he’d feared there would be. Still, given how much honesty and openness she’d shown him, he’d felt he owed her the same.
When she’d been surprisingly cool about it, even wanting to see it, the reaction had shocked him—and made him like her that much more. It seemed he uncovered new layers of Jenna with each passing day.
So hell—who knew?—maybe that was why he’d spilled to her about his family. Maybe it felt good to share it with someone so nice, so sweet.
Turning to a large chest in the historical section of the wardrobe building, he located a pair of ivory fishnet stockings with a satin bow at the top of each. They weren’t totally period, but they’d look delectable on her—and he found himself getting a little hard already just thinking ahead to what would take place in a few hours.
Damn, he loved her newfound appreciation for sex. He loved how trusting she’d been about letting him in her ass last night. He loved everything about her.
Except—shit—love wasn’t a word he should have on his mind with Jenna or any other Hotel Erotique guest. So he pushed the thoughts aside and found a corset that would give her some insanely hot cleavage—then laughed at himself for being in a position to know so much about women’s clothing.
Tonight’s fantasy would be the grandest she’d taken part in—with more than thirty participants. Most would be facilitators, but this was a rare occasion when seven guests would enjoy the same highly structured fantasy. He’d not originally planned on her being involved in the masquerade, but it fit well with where she was on her journey.
In one sense, he saw it as a reward for her, for all the trust she’d put in him this past week. But it would also serve a greater purpose. The goal moving forward was to give her more power, more choices, to slowly retract and reverse the submissiveness he’d created in her. Before her time here was through, he would even prod her toward the other extreme, pushing her to be dominant, aggressive, to take what she wanted. But tonight’s fantasy was simply about giving her options and opportunities. And he was growing impatient—both professionally and personally now—to see what choices she made.
Of course, giving her