What She Needs - Lacey Alexander [23]
Just then, a soft knock echoed through the door, and before Jenna could even react, a male voice said, “I’m leaving your breakfast outside, Ms. Banks.”
Breakfast? Was room service every morning part of the deal? She didn’t recall reading that anywhere. Still, giving the server time to walk back down the hall, she pushed back the covers, tried to move slowly to keep her head from hurting any worse, and eased out of bed. Quietly opening the door in just a cami and panties, she peeked outside to make sure she was alone, then pulled a bamboo breakfast cart inside.
Atop it, a covered plate sat next to a vase of fresh-cut tropical flowers with a crisp white envelope tucked amid the blooms. First, she lifted the lid to find pancakes—which, again, she didn’t remember placing an order for, but they were exactly what she was in the mood to eat. Recovering the plate to keep it warm, she turned her attention to the envelope, plucking it up from the flowers. Her first name was written on the outside—and ripping into it, she discovered a handwritten letter on Hotel Erotique stationery.
Good morning, Jenna.
I thought after last night you might enjoy a quiet breakfast in your room. I know what took place between us was a big step for you, so I wanted to tell you again how proud of you I am.
And if you’ve woken up this morning regretting anything that happened or sorry you agreed to my plans for your stay, remember what you told me last night. You wanted the decision taken out of your hands. Consider this my way of taking it. Last night you committed to experiencing the sex I think will be the most pleasurable and beneficial to you, so you’re going to experience it. You may recall, too, that I spoke of what’s to come as being a leap of faith for you. Rest assured that I fully intend to see you take that leap, even if I have to push you.
The events of the next two weeks will transform you, Jenna, and as your guide, I’m now invested in ensuring that happens. So there’s no going back—only forward. Take that leap of faith and keep making me proud.
Feel free to use the morning as you wish—at the pool or beach, or at the spa—but return to your room by 2 p.m. when more instructions will await you.
Brent
Huh. Jenna just stared at the piece of paper, the breakfast practically forgotten.
He was proud of her. He’d said that last night, too, and she’d liked it. She still did—even without quite understanding why. Maybe she liked the idea of being a bolder sort of woman, more like Shannon. Although she didn’t think even Shannon would ever have done anything like what Brent Powers was suggesting.
Or was that demanding?
She knew he couldn’t make her, of course. Yet he’d very firmly taken the lead she’d given him in that weak moment when she’d admitted she wanted the decision removed from her hands. Meaning—I want to have sex with you, but I can’t bear to want it or to admit I want it, so I want you to take over and make it happen—which he’d definitely read loud and clear. What a hell of a thing to confess.
And so he thought that confession stretched into today, too, and the rest of the trip, did he? The truth was, something about the way he took charge—both last night and now—turned her on a little. She’d never liked bossy or controlling men, but . . . somehow this appealed.
Because it does exactly what you need it to? Because it takes the accountability away from you? At least in a technical sense. And last night that seemed to have been good enough.
But today . . . well, to begin with, she wasn’t intoxicated.
And her body wasn’t humming with lust.
Well, not much anyway. Now that she was forced to think back on last night, and on Brent Powers and everything so hot and seductive about him, it was making her a little warm in the panties again. “Sheesh,” she scolded herself,