Page 70 of Tease Me

He sat at my side. “Ladies first.”

I had to start with the prawns. I grabbed four of them and a dollop of pink seafood sauce from a small glass jar. Henry followed my lead, and we set about peeling the prawns.

“So, are you ready to talk to me?”

I yanked the prawn’s head off. “I am talking to you.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Ohhh, I’d hoped you’d forgotten about that.” Our day had been perfect so far, and the last thing I wanted to do was divulge my crazy challenge to him.

“Come on, Jane. There’s no need to hide anything from me.”

As I dunked my peeled prawn into the sauce and bit into it, I tried to unscramble the thoughts blazing through my mind. No, I didn’t need to hide anything from Henry, but did I want to ruin thespecialthing we had going on?

“Are you having an affair?”

“What?” I swallowed my prawn. “No! Is that what you think?”

“Yes, of course. You’re sneaking around pretending to be Memphis, and you get jittery and evasive when I ask too many questions. Don’t forget I’ve experienced a cheating partner before.”

“So have I. And I’d never do that to anyone.”

“Good. Then whateverit is that’stroubling you can’t be as bad as you think.”

“Pfft.” I rolled my eyes. “Okay.” I sighed. “I’ll tell you.”

“Good. Have another prawn.”

I wrenched the head off the prawn and tossed the scrap toward a seagull that’d landed off to my side. “After my fiancé cheated on me, I was so hurt by what he’d done that I couldn’t stand the sight of him or any of the dozen or so women who’d slept with him. In that small town, it was nearly impossible to avoid the daily confrontation. So, I moved to the Gold Coast.”

Henry sipped his champagne, silently listening to my sorry story.

“I spent the next three years consumed with my work and improving my fitness. But I didn’t find time for myself. No dates, no men, no sex. Not once.”

“That’s a shame.”

“There were two problems. One is my crazy night shift, which means it’s hard to go on dates.Believe me,my girlfriend tried to hook me up many times. But the second problem was . . .” I cleared my throat, “I don’t have sex with strangers.”

“Ahhh.”

“Ahhh what?”

“I assume this is where the costume came in.”

“Correct. On the 1st of January, I did the craziest thing. I put on a French maid costume that I’d bought for the fancy-dress staff Christmas party, and pretending to be someone else, I got myself invited into acompletestranger’s room and masturbated in front of him.”

He clapped his hands. “I love it.”

I blinked at him. “You do?”

“Hell yes. I bet it was one of the most erotic moments of your life.”

I nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“So, you just kept on doing it?”

“Uh-huh.”

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