Six Naughty Nights: Love in Reverse, Book 2 by Serenity Woods Page B

embarrassing ease time and again. She’d thought about it often since and had never been sure if it was because he was such a skilful lover, or if it was just because she’d been so lacking in sexual experience that the first guy willing to spend five minutes on her had seemed like an expert.
    There was no doubt he was an unselfish and generous lover. He’d always made sure she achieved orgasm, usually more than once, before he gave in and relaxed his tight control. In fact he’d always seemed to enjoy giving her pleasure almost as much as taking it himself, a fact she was sure not every guy could claim.  
    And yet now she knew that wasn’t the only reason why she’d responded so well to him. It wasn’t just because of the way he touched her—that he seemed to understand instinctively where her erogenous zones were, or that he pressed everything in the right order. Now she realised she responded to his generous spirit, to his warmth. She loved his sense of humour, his complete openness, as if he kept no secrets at all hidden in his heart. Back in Fiji, he’d been playful, sexy and, looking back, so, so young. Now he was quieter, more serious, but he was still as warm-hearted and generous as ever.
    Good job she wasn’t going to let her heart get involved in this, because she could get into some sticky trouble if that ever happened.
    “Found it,” he said, appearing back on the deck with the box. “I checked on Charlie too by the way—he’s out for the count.”
    She glowed at the fact that he’d thought to check on their son. “Yeah, he normally has about an hour and a half.”
    “Oh to be two again,” he sighed, gesturing for her to sit up, taking the seat beside her as she did. “I could easily sleep for a couple of hours in the afternoon.” He put the box on her lap. “There you go.”
    She scooted to the end of the swing seat and opened the box. “How are we going to decide? Randomly?”
    “I don’t mind. You choose.” While she flicked through some of the cards, he read the instructions in the accompanying pamphlet.  
    “What does it say?” she asked.
    “It suggests trying to stay in character as much as possible, because it makes it easier to try new things if you’re acting rather than being yourself.”
    “I suppose that makes sense.” Certainly some of the scenarios in her hand would be easier to carry out if she was someone else. Just reading them made her cheeks grow warm.
    He glanced up at her and grinned. “You’re blushing.”
    “Am not.”
    “Found a good one?”
    She had, and it featured…well, suffice it to say there was no way she was reading that one out. “Actually, I think I might go for the one I read to you in Christchurch.”
    “The hooker one?”
    “Yeah.” She pulled out the card.
    “Read it again.”
    “‘You’re a very expensive, high-class hooker, looking for customers in a bar. You see a businessman ordering a drink. Go up to him and ask him if he would like a companion for the evening. Get him to buy you a drink, and then let him take you back to his place. Ask what he wants, and tell him what it will cost. And if he wants anything extra, well, that’s up to you.’”
    Her heart beat a little faster at the thought of playing out the role. Could she really do it? Act like a prostitute and pretend he’d paid for her services for the night?
    “Do we have to dress up?” she asked nervously.
    “Of course.”
    “It’s all right for you—you only have to dress up like a businessman.”
    “That doesn’t come naturally, I assure you.”
    “I bet it comes a damn sight more naturally than dressing up like a hooker. I haven’t got a clue what to wear.”
    “Something revealing.” He grinned.
    “I haven’t worn anything revealing since I was about fifteen. I don’t have anything revealing.”
    “You’ll have to improvise. Ask Faith.”
    “I can’t ask Faith!” She stared at him in horror. “What would she say?”
    “I suspect she’ll