Guilty Pleasures Read Online Free PDF

reports.
    Serge actually liked the new assistant, Wilfred, and says he has a nose. Wilfred seems pleasant, but vaguely geeky, like Pee-Wee Herman on steroids! He has nice eyes, though, and a sweet smile. I hope he lasts.
    In other news, I had lunch with dearest Mum. She took me to one of those horrendous places where you pick out your food from a menu that lists the calories before the price.
    Mother looked splendid—perfection, as always. I’m happy to report she was in fine fettle and she weighed me to the last ounce, commenting I had gained a “little” weight.  
    She then proceeded to praise my perfect peach velvet skin with a distinct tone of sour grapes in her voice, then kindly advised me to be careful about my breath. But, of course, she was only telling me this out of concern for my well-being. Because she loves me, and doesn’t want me to go through the pain of rejection . . . again.
    Ugh! Being with her was really unpleasant.  
    Ah! I nearly forgot. Our visit wouldn’t be complete without her questioning me if I had met anyone, or tried to meet anyone. She also asked me if I had considered speed dating, or maybe tried the Internet. When I sighed, she told me that a woman like me, especially at my age, couldn’t be choosy.
    I told her I didn’t want anyone. But of course, she told me that the frigid facet of my personality must have been inherited from my father.
    It took everything in me not to throw my drink at her and walk out, so instead I ordered a nine-hundred calorie sundae for dessert. She sat in furious disapproval, biting at her augmented lips. I can’t tell you how good that sugar tasted.

Chapter 4

    Every woman is a world apart. Each speaks a different language; every word has a different meaning and every touch, a different reaction. What is paradise to one woman is hell to another. What makes you a fantastic lover for one woman will be your undoing to another. Forget pick-up lines and tricks. Get to know her, discover her, let her be your great adventure. Like any good explorer, draw up a map of your woman’s inner world. Respect her limits, write the cautionary phrase, “Here be dragons” in sensitive areas and don’t go there .
    —Sensual Secrets of a Sexual Surrogate

    That afternoon, at three o’clock on the dot, Lance bounded up the staircase at Guilty Pleasures, two steps at a time. His eagerness surprised him, and the fluttering sensations in his perfectly smooth belly announced excitement undreamed of in years.  
    The entire afternoon whirled by in a dizzying maelstrom of frantic activity. He found himself running from kitchen to pantry to wine store in an endless marathon of fetch and carry. At seven in the evening, a sudden calm descended on the kitchen.
    “All under control now, Willie. All that’s left is last-minute stuff.” Serge clambered up onto a barstool at the end of his workstation. “Be a good boy and go and get me a bottle of port, a key lime, and tonic water. Oh, and two glasses with plenty of ice.”
    Lance handed Serge the lime and watched him intently.  
    Serge rubbed the slices of translucent lime on the inside of the glasses, poured in a generous tot of port, and topped it up with tonic water. He bruised mint leaves and dropped them in. “Here, try this. Cheers!” The dwarf gulped his drink and sighed.
    “Cheers, Mr. Moreno. So what happens now?”
    “Well, now the crazies will be arriving at nine. Millie’s helping with the décor and the entertainment, the oysters are on ice, the stock for the she-crab consommé is done, the pâté, the tongue in aspic, and the chestnut bombe are ready, so we can relax for half an hour.”  
    “Do we get to see the guests at all?” Lance asked.
    “Hopefully not!” Serge squinted at him through his glass. “You’re doing okay for a dork, my boy. You’re willing, fast on your feet, and not overly stupid. We might get on.” Serge set out a round of cheese, sliced pears, walnuts, crusty bread, and a