What She Needs - Lacey Alexander [129]
“It means I assumed . . . you were there. Somewhere. Or watching through a hidden camera or something. Are you telling me you weren’t?”
He stayed silent for a moment and Jenna’s chest hurt so much she feared it would burst. “No, honey, I wasn’t.”
“I see.”
“It’s not customary for your guide to be at or observing all your fantasies.”
“You always have before. Even at the Grotto,” she reminded him.
“I was at the Grotto to see how things went, to gauge your progress. I never actually meant for you to know I was there—I just fucked up and didn’t stay out of sight well enough.”
“Hmm,” she said. Because it was all she could say. Other words completely eluded her, trapped in her throat by the anger beginning to spread all through her. He’d done this on purpose. He’d just reminded her last night, after all, that she’d only agreed to all of this on the condition that he would be part of her fantasies—it was very clear to them both that she wanted, needed, him there. He’d done this to remind her she was only a job to him, a project.
“Jenna, are you okay?”
She suddenly found her voice. “Other than the fact that I feel completely betrayed and abandoned? Sure—I’m just fine.”
She heard him blow out his breath on the other end of the line. “Jenna, please don’t feel that way. This was the same as any other fantasy—meant to bring you pleasure and expand your horizons in a new direction. Nothing more, nothing less. If it brought you the intended pleasure, then mission accomplished and you should be happy about that.”
“Don’t tell me how to feel,” she snapped. Then, as the full measure of his betrayal hit her, she simply pushed the disconnect button.
She couldn’t bear to talk to him any longer if he was going to argue with her about it, tell her she was wrong to have the emotions she did. She’d done something sexual with Courtney that she wouldn’t have—plain and simple—if she’d known Brent really wasn’t involved in any way. It made the experience feel . . . empty. No, worse. She almost even found it a little repulsive.
Because she just wasn’t like the other people here. Try as she might, she hadn’t come here for the sole purpose of getting off. After all of this, sex, to her, still meant more. At the very least, it meant sharing something intimate with someone she trusted. And she’d trusted Brent so, so much. She’d trusted him with . . . everything, with all of her—her emotions, her thoughts, her past, her body, her pleasure. She’d trusted him and he’d just . . . abandoned her.
I hate him.
No, that was a lie—she wanted to hate him, but she couldn’t, because she loved him.
Yet she hated what he’d done to her, and she was going to make damn sure it didn’t happen again. She was done with this, done with him! And she was getting the hell out of the Hotel Erotique, once and for all.
Chapter 14
Jenna marched up the sunny beach. Because the moment she’d decided to end her experience here at the resort, she knew she needed to see Brent one more time. To finish this.
Her heart pounded against her ribs as she trudged through the hot sand toward his house. When she reached the bungalow, she didn’t bother knocking; instead, she yanked open the door and barged right in.
She found him standing in his living room, cell phone pressed to his ear. He looked fairly frantic. “I’ve been trying to call you back—why did you hang up on me?”
She didn’t answer, though. Instead, she said, “Susan B. Anthony! Marie Antoinette! Cleopatra!”
“What?” he asked, shaking his head in confusion.
“Oprah Winfrey!” she continued. “Amelia Earhart!”
Then he stood up a bit straighter, his expression telling her he suddenly understood.
“That’s right,” she confirmed. “I want out of this—now!”
He simply met her gaze for a moment, and she kind of wanted to cry—because seeing him again made her chest contract, because she was so crazy about him and only wished he hadn’t misled her. “Tell me why,” he finally said, his voice gentle.
“You know why. I just engaged in a sexual act under false pretenses.”
“How false could it have been if you came?” he protested.