What She Needs Read Online Free PDF Page A

it—overtop the larger plates already on the table. Glancing down at hers, Jenna saw chicken cordon bleu and didn’t remember choosing it from a menu at any time, despite it being one of her favorites. Unless it had been on some questionnaire she couldn’t remember—she’d filled those out weeks ago.
    By the time Rico departed, Jenna’s irritation finally superseded her nervousness with Mr. Hottie Sexologist and allowed her to look him squarely in the eye, ignoring her food. “You think you know a lot about me, don’t you?”
    She was beginning to get the picture here. He not only thought he knew about her in sexual ways—he was also showing her he knew what she liked to eat, to drink. Were they meeting here because he’d somehow discerned that she found gazebos quaint and loved sunsets? She felt . . . utterly invaded.
    “You told me a lot about you, Jenna,” he reminded her matter-of-factly. “In the questionnaires.”
    “I told Mariel ,” she corrected him.
    “And I’ve apologized for not having another female guide available right now, but that’s not really what this is about.”
    “What what is about?”
    “Your anger.”
    “I’m not angry,” she snapped—then realized that she, indeed, sounded pretty angry.
    “We consider it a large part of our job to learn as much about you as we can, in order to provide the experience you need here. And you freely gave us the information necessary to do that,” he pointed out.
    Which pissed her off even more, because he was right. She’d stu pidly filled out the forms, not thinking anyone was going to analyze them that closely—simply thinking it would be fun to find out if she was more type A or type B, more creative or analytical, that sort of thing. “True, I did. But you keep using the word ‘need,’ and I assure you I don’t need anything. If I needed it so badly, why would I be turning it down?”
    “Because you’re afraid of it, Jenna,” he answered without missing a beat. “Which is perfectly understandable, considering your profile.”
    She lowered her chin derisively. “So just what is it you think you learned about me? What is it you think I need so badly?”
    Her sexy guide simply tilted his head, the move making him appear almost arrogant. “If you don’t know, then I can’t tell you, Jenna. You have to find out along the way.”
    “Along what way?”
    “By experiencing the sexual fantasies we’re going to create for you here over the next two weeks.”
    “That’s another thing,” she said, her dander rising even more. “You and your brochures call them fantasies—yet you design them? That doesn’t make any sense.”
    “Sure it does,” he claimed. “We use only data you give us to design your fantasies. Many people tell us that what they experience here mirrors their own fantasies exactly. Others say we help them live out fantasies they weren’t bold enough to create in their own minds. Either way, we feel the term ‘fantasies’ is a good way to describe the experiences.”
    Jenna simply gave her head a short shake. She couldn’t believe this. Getting out of the sex part had sounded so easy. But Brent Powers was making it pretty challenging—and upsetting her in the process.
    Until she suddenly remembered: It didn’t matter what he said, or what he thought he knew, or even if some little part of her wondered if, or feared, he could be right—she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to. So that’s what she told him. “I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to.”
    “Of course you don’t,” he said smoothly. “But you will want to, Jenna.”
    She sat up a bit straighter, unnerved. “What makes you so sure?”
    “Because I’m going to make you want to.”
    For a second she couldn’t breathe. Because she was pulsing in her panties again. Just from looking into his dark eyes and listening to his seductive voice and oversure words.
    But then she pulled herself together—again. Damn it, this man