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The corner of Ander’smouth quirked up. “Sorry about that.”

His expressioneased some of the discomfort in her chest. So she sustained the mood. “Don’tbe. It was really hot. I wouldn’t have thought I’d like that.”

“A little paincan go a long way,” he said, in the voice he always used to give her advice orinstructions.

“I guess so.I’m not sure I’d want much more than that, though,” she added honestly, mullingover memories of her own physical responses to stimulation. Following thattrain of thought, she asked idly, “I guess some people do though. Do you lose alot of clients by only doing the romantic thing?” At his questioning look, sheexplained, “What we talked about last week—about not doing all the S&Mstuff.”

“Oh,” he saidwith an enlightened look. He shook his head. “No. I don’t think I’ve lost any.”

Relieved tofind a subject—however unusual—that felt more like their normal interaction, Loripursued it. “So it’s not all that popular?”

“It depends onwhat you mean by popular. There’s a small percentage of the population that’sinto that lifestyle, but there’s a whole industry built around it. And, ingeneral, those who participate in that lifestyle want to engage in the cultureas a whole rather than using the occasional services of someone like me.”

“Huh.” Lorithought about it for a minute. “If recent erotic romances are to be believed,most women are really into stuff like that.”

Ander chuckledand shook his head. “But that’s the stuff of fantasies. Most women who getturned on reading about it wouldn’t actually want to live it out. It might turnthem on in fantasies, but it wouldn’t in real life. Tell me the truth. Whatwould you do if I tied you up, muzzled you, and started to whip you?”

Lori thoughtabout all the hot sex scenes she’d read featuring such activities. Then shehonestly examined her own nature. She snickered. “I’d have you arrested forassault.”

He returned hersmile. “Exactly. I know I’m making a generalization and everyone is unique andhas their own needs, desires, and expressions of feeling. But, in my experience,the majority of the women would still rather be genuinely loved than justfucked.”

For somereason, at his final words—as matter-of-fact as they were—she felt a stab ofaching knowledge shoot through her heart.

She didn’t knowabout the rest of the women in the world, but for her at least his words weretrue. She would rather have a man she could love and who really loved her thanjust be fucked, no matter how skillful the man who was doing the fucking.

She didn’tregret her sessions with Ander, but she finally had to admit her herself thatthey couldn’t last forever. Already, it was starting to feel a little strangeto her—as if it wasn’t as impersonal and professional as it should be.

Now that shehad a potential relationship with Phil, was this thing with Ander what shereally wanted?

When she lookedback at him, she saw he’d been studying her closely. “Shall we set anotherappointment?” he asked.

Put on thespot, Lori was slammed with a wave of confusion. She had no idea what shewanted to do. “Um, I’m not sure what my schedule will be.” That was true. Shedidn’t know if Phil would ask her out again. “Why don’t I email you and let youknow?”

Ander nodded,no expression on his face. “Sounds good.”

He showered anddressed after that. And she gave him the cash and walked him to the door likeusual. Their goodbye seemed to be more final than usual, and Lori couldn’t helpbut wonder if she’d ever see him again as he walked away from her, down thehall.

She felt weird.And disturbed. And upset. And kind of sad.

But she knewshe needed to face reality. She couldn’t pursue a serious relationship and fucka gigolo on the side. Maybe some men did it, but she couldn’t. Shewouldn’t.

If given thechoice, she would rather have a man to love than pay a man to fuck her.

***

Two days later, Lori sent along, rambling, apologetic email to Ander, explaining she would no longer needhis services. Phil had asked her out again, and she was going to focus on thatfor the time being.

Ander sent hera brief, impersonal reply, saying he’d enjoyed working with her and to keep himin mind for any referrals.

And that wasit. Lori inexplicable experiment with a male escort had come to an end.

She had anotherdate with Phil on Friday night, so at least she could look forward to that.

Seven

“Here’s to no more assholes,” Sabrinasaid, raising her half-drunk bottle of beer in an enthusiastic toast.

They were bothslouched against the couch on the floor of Lori’s living room, an empty pizzabox between them. “Here, here!” Lori echoed, clinking her bottle loudly againsther cousin’s.

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