Free HandsOn by Jaci Burton

angles, ask any man or woman the same
question and you will never get the same answer. Sexuality is an
individualistic as appearance. No one short of twins looks the same as anyone
else, and no one’s sexuality can be summed up by any expert or study. The best
you can hope for is an average. The experience itself is unique for every
individual, every time.”
    Her answer reminded her of yesterday’s lively argument with
Mark. Heat raced through her body as she recalled every intimate moment they’d
spent together. She’d even found herself dressing tonight to please him, hoping
he’d be here. Where typically she’d wear ankle-length flowing skirts and a
loose blouse, tonight she wore one of the trim designer suits Nancy had
insisted she buy.
    “Any more questions?” she asked, glancing up at the clock.
Two hours of lecture, questions and answers. Not bad. And the room was filled
to capacity.
    When no one else responded, she said, “Thank you so much for
your time.”
    Applause rang out and she smiled, spoke with a few people,
then began to gather her presentation materials.
    “You look sexy as hell in that suit.”
    She whirled around to find Mark grinning at her. Her palms
began to sweat and her heart jackhammered against her ribs. “I didn’t know you
were here.”
    “I figured wolf whistles during your speech would be
inappropriate.”
    She couldn’t hold back her smile. “Probably.”
    “But I thought about it.”
    His compliment warmed her. “So, how did I do?”
    He leaned against the desk and crossed his arms. “I
disagreed with most of what you said.”
    She smirked. “Then I must have done well with my
presentation.”
    He laughed and slipped his arms around her waist, pulling
her against him. “I missed you.”
    “I just saw you yesterday.”
    “Ah, casting me aside like a used rubber already, are you?”
    Lara threw her head back and laughed. Who was this woman who
laughed with a gorgeous man, who felt sexy as hell in her short skirt and
thigh-high stockings? This wasn’t the Lara McKenzie she knew.
    And yet, she felt okay. Better than okay. Fantastic.
Desirable, even. For the first time in her life.
    “Hey, I need to ask you a question,” Mark said.
    “Sure.”
    “Have you told your boyfriend about us?”
    Boyfriend? What boyfriend? “Huh?”
    He rolled his eyes at her. “You know. Bob.”
    Oh, God. “Uh, don’t worry about Bob.”
    “Oh, but I do. I don’t want to be rolling around in your bed
and have Bob storm in and catch us.”
    She choked back her snort. “That won’t happen. Trust me.”
    “I think you should at least tell him you’re dating someone
else.”
    Dating? They were dating?
    “I need to tell you about Bob,” she said, wondering how she
was going to explain this, and hoping he had a sense of humor about the whole
thing.
    Mark let go of her and sat on the desk. “Okay, tell me.”
    Where to begin. Should she laugh it off, or approach it
seriously followed by an apology for misleading him? “There is no Bob.”
    He arched a brow. “Huh?”
    “There is no Bob. He doesn’t exist.”
    “You made him up.”
    “No. Well, sort of.”
    When his eyes narrowed, she knew he wasn’t finding this
amusing. Might as well get it over with. “Bob is an acronym.”
    “For?”
    This was going to be painfully embarrassing.
“Battery-Operated Boyfriend.”
    It took him a few seconds, then he threw his head back and
laughed so loud she was afraid the other lecture halls were going to hear him.
    “Your boyfriend is a vibrator?”
    He laughed like a damn hyena, and wouldn’t stop. Glaring at
him, she said, “Really, it’s not that funny.”
    “No, it’s not just funny, Lara, it’s goddamn hysterical! I
can’t believe you told me that. His, or rather, its name is going to be in the
article, too.”
    Oh, hell.
    “Care to explain why you told me you had a boyfriend?”
    Not really. “You asked. I didn’t want to seem, I don’t know,
like a loser.” Which she