Everything in her life is organized to perfection. She assumed that hiring a male escort for the night would be a simple business transaction. She hadn't prepared for the way he made her feel when he held her close. When a woman like Hannah finally loses control and surrenders to her desires, the results are explosive… Ihere's a lot of pressure in my line of work to look right, to live a certain lifestyle, to have the whole package. Much of my six-figure salary goes into maintaining this image. I've a wardrobe full of designer clothes, a city-center loft apartment with off-street parking for my Porsche, and a membership to an exclusive gym where personal trainers keep this power-dressed body buff. And usually I've got a man-a handsome, rich man-to go with it all. What's the point of working all hours, preserving this hot, powerful self-image if there's no decent alpha-male fuck in it? Well, that's the ironic thing.

Last year, I'd been working so hard that my love life had taken a backseat for a while, and there'd been no decent man in my life, or bed, more precisely, for at least six months. It was one of those periods where you're so busy, you haven't even the time to ask yourself, Hey, when did I last go on a date? How long has it been since I last had sex? Even my vibrator felt neglected in those days. At night, I'd be working on my laptop in bed, if not flat-out after happy hour networking. My bank balance and achievements were so healthy that I wasn't too worried about being single. Career was my number one priority for now; there would be plenty of time for fun and games later.

But my firm's Christmas ball is a big deal. You simply have to take a date, and I'd always had the best dates of any woman in the firm. I'd walk into the ballroom with an amazing man: a model, an actor, a personal trainer, a millionaire entrepreneur, an Indie 500 race-car driver. But that year I had no one to take with me, and I didn't want to turn up alone.