Escorted by Claire Kent Read Free Book Online

than anxiety—but now she was starting
to get nervous. She was still aroused, but not so much she stopped thinking
about what was about to happen.
    “Do you want me
to keep my clothes on this evening?” Ander stood, dark and looming, beside the
bed.
    Since she felt
braver today, she replied, “Oh. No. I guess not. You can take them off.”
    Ander started
unbuttoning his shirt. His motion was slow, almost mesmerizing, as he gradually
revealed his bare chest beneath. When he’d untucked the skirt, he let it slide
with unhurried ease to the floor. His chest was toned and masculine. She could
see the clean contours of muscle development on his abdomen and shoulders, even
in the dim light of the room.
    He slid his
belt out of the loops. He moved naturally, not ostentatiously, but Lori
suddenly realized he was giving her a little show.
    It was
effective. As she watched, her intimate muscles clenched in excitement and
jitters rose up in her belly, but she also felt a gurgle of amusement. She had
to press her lips together to stifle it.
    Who would have
thought that Lori Addison would be in the position to get such an elegant
striptease from a bald man?
    She must not
have hidden her reaction well because Ander paused in the midst of unzipping.
He arched his eyebrows. “Is something wrong?”
    “Oh, no,” she
said, keeping her eyes wide and trying not to stare down at what would be
revealed when his pants came unzipped. “Everything’s fine. You’re doing an
excellent job.”
    Ander narrowed
his eyes, a little suspiciously, before he let his trousers fall to the floor,
revealing black silk boxers and a pair of very fine legs.
    “Boxers?” Lori
asked, working past the surge of visceral admiration at the sight of his near
perfect body. “I was wondering what you wore.”
    Ander took off
his watch as he replied, “I didn’t know what you’d prefer. Since you’re
American, I thought boxers were a better bet.”
    Lori blinked up
at him. “What do you mean?”
    “American women
tend to prefer boxers on men. If you were international, I’d have worn briefs.
Obviously, once I know a woman’s preference, I accommodate it.”
    “American women
prefer boxers?”
    “I have only my
own informal assessment to go by, but, yes, I’d say three-fourths of them do. I
try to pay attention.”
    “Wow,” Lori
breathed. “That’s what I call attention to detail.”
    Ander gave her
a half-smile. “It’s part of my job.” His hands lingered on the waistband of his
boxers. “Shall I?”
    Lori gulped,
torn between nerves and carnal interest. The silk was thin and slippery, and
she could see evidence through the fabric that he was already half-erect. “Why
don’t you wait on that?” she finally decided.
    Ander nodded
and came over to sit on the edge of the bed. “Like last time? Some foreplay
with no kissing?”
    She scooted
over toward the middle of the bed to make room for him. “Yes. Thank you.”
    He slanted her
an odd look before he moved into bed beside her. Then he moved over her. Like
last time, he started with some light kisses on the side of her neck, but then
he moved up to brush his lips along the line of her jaw.
    Lori sucked in
a breath. Then a sharper breath when he trailed his mouth down to the pulse in
her throat. She felt his teeth on her skin, very gently.
    Without any
conscious thought, her hands settled on his head, irresistibly drawn to the
smooth scalp. Again, no signs of bristles.
    It was silent
in the room except the rustling of the bedding and Lori’s accelerating
breathing. He was warm above her, generating heat she could feel even where he
wasn’t touching her, and he slowly pushed up her chemise to bare her body to
him.
    Ander took his
time—stroking her body, fondling her breasts, teasing out spots that made her
gasp or squirm that she’d never imagined before. This time, she was too
distracted by the sensations to point out the things she liked best, but he
found them anyway. Eventually, Lori