What She Needs - Lacey Alexander [28]
Sliding her finger under the pink envelope flap, she drew out a card of white vellum printed in formal black script, like a wedding invitation. Only this was a different sort of invitation altogether.
You Are Invited to a Fantasy
Where: Room 222 (map enclosed)
When: Today, 5:30 p.m.
You have always been an apt student,
but you’ve just enrolled in a tantalizing new subject.
Wear the lingerie provided.
Put anything you like over it to walk to the room.
More directions await you in the bathroom—follow them exactly.
Remember, obedience is key in the classroom.
(Your safeword is Marie Antoinette.)
Jenna would have smiled about him choosing the topic of one of her books as her safeword if she hadn’t been so eager to reach into the bag and see exactly what kind of lingerie Brent had selected for her. And—oh my!—she couldn’t have been more pleasantly surprised to find a sexy yet utterly classy white lace bra and thong set. It was exactly the sort of thing she would buy if planning a romantic evening that might lead to the bedroom.
So . . . wow. Did this change things? Her decision? Because if Brent had indeed designed some sort of simple, sexy, white-lace fantasy for her, then . . . hmm, that might be nice. She wouldn’t have thought so yesterday, but given that she’d already had sex with him and that it had been freaking amazing . . . would it be so awful to indulge once more?
Sure, it meant risking a deeper attachment to a guy with whom she had nothing in common and certainly no hope for a future, but . . . maybe this would be good for her. Maybe the whole experience would help her get better at casual sex. Not the kind he surely had planned for later in her stay, but . . . maybe the kind Kevin and Shannon had been pushing her toward. In one sense, it still sounded unappealing, but in another . . . well, last night had proven, if nothing else, that casual sex wouldn’t kill her. And in reality, it hadn’t even left her suffering any real regrets.
Still holding the lacy bra in her hand, she checked the tag: 34C. Yep, right size. Just like the right wine and the right chicken.
And, of course, if she went through with the sex tonight, Brent would surely be pissed when she announced it was the last time after all, and he’d try to cajole her into more—but the decision would remain hers. She could do what she wanted here—take none of her prize, or part of it. And if she desired one more—and only one more—night of hot, knee-weakening passion with the sex doctor himself, then that’s what she would have.
“Wow,” she murmured, her cheeks flushing with heat. Because apparently she was doing this—entering into one of the fantasies. She’d never imagined she could be so bold, and despite lingering fears, she found herself peering down at the lace in her hands with a mischievous smile.
Now, to get ready for her white-lace evening. Dropping the bra on the bed, she stripped off her bikini on the way to the spacious bathroom. Stepping inside, she reached to turn on the water in the marble shower—then spotted some items on the wide countertop. Again, not things the maid had left—she’d been so enraptured by the lingerie and her decision that she’d completely forgotten more instructions waited here.
She was unsettled enough to see a feminine-looking can of shaving cream and two pink disposable razors, but she nearly fainted when she picked up the card propped next to them and read the words printed in more fancy black script:
Shave your pussy completely smooth.
Oh boy. Feeling light-headed, she pressed a palm to the sink top for balance and tried to catch her breath. She knew guys liked that. She knew Shannon did it for Kevin—although she got the area waxed instead, making Jenna cringe every time she thought about such pain. But she’d certainly never done it herself. No guy she’d ever dated had asked her to. And why else would a woman do that?
She saw several choices before her. She could just ignore this part. Or she could change her mind altogether and refuse the fantasy.
Or she could shave.
She bit her