Page 39 of Revelation

“Secondly, I think that, whatever you did to those women in The Club for a month?” She levels me with her sparkling blue eyes. “I want you to do it to me, too—exactlythe way you did it to them.”

Oh shit. My cock just sat upright in bed and yelled, ‘Do I smell coffee?’”

There’s a long beat as I process what she just said.

She grins broadly. “I also think... as long as you’re gonna show me your fantasies, without holding back, then, maybe, if you’re willing... ” She takes a deep breath. “Maybe I could show you mine?” Again, she bites her lip. “Because I’m actually a bit of a sick fuck myself.”

My cock is now doing jumping jacks on the floor next to its bed. “I’d love that,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “What are your fantasies? In your ‘application’, you mentioned a bodyguard fantasy and some sort of captive fantasy?”

She nods. “Yeah. Actually, I think the captive fantasy might be pretty consistent with your saving-the-raped-girl fantasy. We might be able to do a two-for-one there.”

I shift in my seat, trying to relieve the pressure on my cock. “Just tell me what you want and I’ll do it,” I say.

She takes a deep breath. “Really? You want the whole thing?”

I nod. “Of course. Tell me the whole damned thing.”

She beams a smile at me that stops my heart. “Okay, well, um, let’s start with my captive fantasy.” She looks giddy. “Well, I’m held captive by a horribly dangerous man who captured me in order to make me his sex slave. But then, after taking me—sensuously,notviolently, by the way—he winds up falling desperately in love with me—and then after a while another bad guy comes to kidnap me, alsointending to make me his sex slave, of course, and my original captor fends him off in a sword fight—”

“Aswordfight?”

“Yeah, my fantasy kind of toggles between present day and a kind of historical-fiction-locked-in-a-dungeon kind of thing.”

“Interesting.”

“Anyway, when the second bad guy is finally dead, my original captor unties me and says I can go, because now he cares about me too much to keep me as his prisoner. It’s like if you love something, set it free, you know? But I don’t want to go—in fact, all I want to do is stay and fuck him for hours and hours—so that’s what we do, only this time, without the bondage, because now it’s mychoiceto stay and that’s what makes it so sexy.”

I’m in a daze listening to her, completely shocked.

There’s a beat.

I suddenly realize she’s not talking anymore.

“So, that’s it,” she declares, filling the silence.

“Wow,” I say. “That was quite a bit more... detailed than I was expecting.”

She shrugs. “I fantasize in Technicolor—what can I say?”

I laugh. “It’s like a mini-porno.”

“Exactly. Yes. A mini-porno starringme.”

“And you’ve got more of these mini-pornos bouncing around in your head?”

“Tons.”

“And who are the guys who play opposite you in these pornos?”

“Well, depending on the mini-porno-fantasy, it could be any number of fantasy-guys—Channing Tatum gets cast a lot; Charlie Hunman makes appearances quite frequently; this hot married guy who works at the bank.” She blushes. “But that was all before I saw you standing in that hallway in your wet briefs. Lately, there’s only one star of all my imaginary-mini-pornos: Joshua William Faraday.”

I smile and so does she.

“So you think my captor-fantasy would work with your saving-the-girl fantasy?” she asks. “Or is it too weird to mix and match?”

“I think that would work just fine.” I shift again. My cock is throbbing in my pants. “And what about the bodyguard fantasy? Is it pretty detailed, too?”

She smiles from ear-to-ear, clearly excited by what she’s about to say. “Okay, so inthisone, I’m a world-famous singer and my life is in serious danger because some stalker is after me. So a gorgeous bodyguard has been hired to protect me—a really serious, no-nonsense kind of guy, like a former Secret Service agent. And, one night, I’m performing a concert in a beautiful, sparkly outfit, like a kind of space-age-y-looking thing? Or maybe I’ve got a beautiful headscarf around my head and I’m looking really somber, sitting on a chair. It just depends what song I’m performing. But either way my bodyguard gets spooked by something he sees in the crowd and he rushes onstage and swoops me up to protect me from an assassin and he literally carries me away from harm, and even though we’re not supposed to do it—because my bodyguard’s a true professional and takes his job really seriously—we just can’t resist our off-the-charts attraction and we totally get it on.”

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