What She Needs

Table of Contents

 

 

“Lacey Alexander’s books bring out the good little bad girl in all of us. Unforgettable in an ‘Oh, yeah, do that again please’ sort of way.”

—Romance: B(u)y the Book

 

“Thoroughly tantalizing, with magnetic characters, a sizzling plot, and raw sensuality, this book will have you fanning yourself long after the last page!”

—
Romantic Times

 

“Ms. Alexander is an exceptionally talented author who, time after time, takes us on extremely erotic journeys that leave us breathless with every turn of the page. . . . This author pens the most arousing sexual scenes that you could never imagine.”—Fallen Angel Reviews

 

“Lacey Alexander has given readers . . . hot, erotic romance with no holds barred.”—Romance Junkies

 

“Ms. Alexander is probably one of the most talented, straightforward, imaginative writers in erotic romance today.”—The Road to Romance

 

“Lacey Alexander just ‘wowed’ me! Incredibly hot!”

—Romance Reader at Heart (top pick)

 

“Lacey Alexander is a very talented writer.”

—The Romance Readers Connection

 

“Lacey Alexander is an intoxicating erotic writer using sensual and sexual prowess to embrace your inner passions and desires. Sexual discovery at its best.”

—Noveltown

 

“Lacey Alexander’s characters . . . are so compelling and lifelike.”

—Coffee Time Romance

 

“Sooo romantic and sexy!”—Cupid’s Library Reviews

 

“Lacey Alexander takes blissful hedonism to a whole new level in this blazingly brazen, passionately erotic love story!”—Ecataromance

ALSO BY LACEY ALEXANDER

HEAT
Published by New American Library,
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First published by Heat, an imprint of New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

First Printing, November 2009

Copyright © Lacey Alexander, 2009 Excerpt from
Seven Nights of Sin
copyright © Lacey Alexander, 2008

All rights reserved

HEAT is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data:
Alexander, Lacey.
What she needs/Lacey Alexander.
p. cm.

eISBN : 978-1-101-15129-7

1. Hotels—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3601.L3539W46 2009
813’.6—dc22 2009023653

Set in Dante

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“S
eriously, Jenna, when was the last time you got laid?”

Jenna Banks looked up from the slice of pizza in her hand, across the room to her best friend Shannon’s husband. She loved Kevin—he was like a brother to her—but when she’d been invited over for pizza and a movie, she hadn’t expected to be grilled on her sex life. Or lack thereof.

“And I should tell you this
why
?”

Kevin tilted his head as if to say,
Come on—it’s me, your buddy, Kev.
“I just think you need to . . . have more fun, that’s all. You’re an attractive single woman and you’re letting life pass you by.”

At this, Jenna laughed. “Unless I happen to step in front of a bus or something, I have plenty of life left.”

“But maybe not a lot of . . . you know,
youth
,” Shannon chimed in, her blond curls bouncing as she settled on the arm of Kevin’s easy chair. They both flashed expressions that made Jenna think of the Spanish Inquisition.

Yet she merely rolled her eyes. “I’m twenty-nine. According to the experts, I won’t even reach my sexual peak until thirty-five.”

“But don’t you want to be in the game when it happens?” Kevin asked.

“And what if your peak comes early?” Shannon added. “What if you miss it?”

“My God, you two, get a grip. It’s not as if I never have sex. I’m just . . . selective about my partners. Which I happen to think is wise in this day and age. I mean, you guys are married—you don’t have to worry about that stuff anymore. And besides, if I’m happy with myself—
and I am
—what’s the problem?”

“We just don’t want you to have any regrets later in life,” Shannon said.

Kevin leaned forward in his chair then, a challenging look in his eye. “And since you claim you
do
have sex, when
was
the last time?”

Fine, she’d take the challenge, if it would stop this silliness. “When I was dating Todd Rogers.”

“Todd Rogers!” Shannon exclaimed—as Kevin’s eyes fogged over in horror.

“That was how long ago?” he asked.

Jenna let out a breath and did the math. She and Todd had been together on the Fourth of July last year, but had broken up by Labor Day, and now it was August, so . . . “About a year ago, I guess.”

“A year,” Kevin repeated, appearing dumbfounded.

Next to him, Shannon simply let out a sad sigh. “A year of your life when you could have been indulging in good sex.”

Jenna finally dropped her pizza on the plate in her lap—it had gone limp and cold in her hand anyway—and lowered it to the coffee table in front of her. “You two make it sound so easy. Like there are decent, eligible, good-looking guys just lining the streets. But that’s not how it is. And sure, I could hang out in bars and try to pick up men for one-night stands, but . . . why? That sounds so . . . yucky.”

Shannon shrugged, and Kev said, “Back before Shannon, I had some pretty good one-night stands in my day.”

Jenna thought Shannon would smack his arm for that, or at least scowl a little, but instead she simply said, “Me, too. Surely you remember.”

Certainly Jenna did. Shannon had been a lot more wild than her back in college at the University of Michigan—and come out none the worse for it. “Look,” Jenna finally said, “just because that sort of thing worked for you guys doesn’t mean it’s right for
me
. When I have sex with a guy, I want it to—”

“Please don’t say ‘mean something,’” Kevin interrupted. “That’s such a
girl
thing.”

Jenna sat up a little straighter, thoroughly irritated now. “I
am
a girl, thank you very much, and that’s how I feel. And even if it isn’t
always
deep and meaningful, I at least want it to be with a guy I sincerely like, and respect, and feel comfortable with. Otherwise, it’s just—”

“
Pleasure
,” Shannon finished for her. “For your information, there can be a lot of
pleasure
involved regardless of like, respect, and comfort. And sometimes you just have to think . . . well, like a guy. Sometimes you have to be in it for the pure physical enjoyment. And there’s nothing wrong with that, by the way. This is the twenty-first century—women are allowed to seek their own pleasure. Sometimes, my dear Jenna,” she said as if she were very wise, or Jenna were very thick, “a good orgasm has to be enough to satisfy you.”

Jenna paused, turning the words over in her head. She was loath to admit it, but she
almost
saw what they were saying. She wasn’t particularly aching for an orgasm—but the point was, if she couldn’t find a guy she really
liked
, maybe it was better to at least take some pleasure from one she could . . . crave. One of those really hot, sexy guys who probably
did
hang out at meat market bars looking to get lucky. She could fix herself up—wear something short and tight from Shannon’s closet, put on more makeup than usual—then go out and pick up a guy. Before she got old, like they were saying. In case Mr. Right never came along. So that she would at least have a few wild nights, a few hot romps to look back on in her later years.

Except . . .
wait a minute
. What was she
thinking
? She couldn’t do what they were suggesting—ever!

“The problem is,” she began in rebuttal, “I don’t think a good orgasm
would
be enough to satisfy me. In fact, if that’s all I got out of it, I’m pretty sure I’d be depressed afterward, and feel empty inside.
Blegh
,” she concluded, making a face.

Kevin just shook his handsome head, clearly sad for her. “We just worry about you, Jenna.”

“Well, don’t. I have a perfectly full life without casual sex every weekend. I have my work and my family, both of which I love. I have my friends, whom I also love—
most of the time
,” she added, raising a reproachful eyebrow. “I have a great condo, my book club every other Thursday, my weekend getaways with Shannon each summer—face it, I have a great life. If I sometimes have a nice guy and some sex added to the mix, all the better. And if I don’t, I’m still perfectly satisfied.”