Page 48 of Ruthless Creatures
She makes a noise of sympathy.
“And he’s very mysterious. And gorgeous. He’s probably the best-looking man I’ve ever seen.”
“He’s not out of your league, if that’s what you’re trying to say. You could have any man you wanted in this town. Even the married ones.”
“I’m not sure why you tacked on adultery at the end, but thanks for the compliment.”
“What I mean is that you’re the kind of girl who makes normally sane men lose their minds. You could turn the pope into a sex addict.”
“You missed your true calling in pulp fiction.”
“I’m being serious. It’s the whole virgin-with-the-bod-made-for-sin thing. Men go crazy for that shit. You’re one of their ten standard fantasies.”
“I hate to burst your bubble, but I haven’t been a virgin since before Oprah went off the air.”
“Close enough. How many penises have you seen?”
“You know the answer to that question. And why does it sound like you actually have a list of men’s ten standard fantasies?”
“Because I do. You want to hear them?”
I say emphatically, “No.”
Ignoring that, she starts to tick off a list. “The threesome is number one, of course. Men justlooovethat fantasy. Forget about how most of them would be disappointing two women instead of only one, it’s their go-to jerk off fare. Then we’ve got exhibition, voyeurism, virgins—”
“Anytime you’d like to get back to my problematic love life, I’ll be here waiting.”
“—role playing, deep throating, bondage—”
“Are we at ten yet? I’ve got a meeting right after lunch I can’t miss.”
“—spanking, domination, and anal.”
When I don’t say anything for a while, Sloane asks, “You still there?”
“Yes. It’s just that those last three…”
“What?” she demands. I can almost see her hunched over, gripping the phone in anticipation.
“I have a feeling those are Kage’s favorites.”
Her gasp is low and thrilled. “Oh my god. I knew he was perfect.”
“Anal? No, thank you. That hole is exit only.”
“Babe, the O isamazing.”
I’m highly dubious. “How do you even know you’re having an orgasm through all the flesh-tearing pain?”
She scoffs. “You don’t let him just stick it in dry, dummy! You’ve gotta get that little rosebud all lubed up and ready!”
One of my male colleagues walks past, smiling and nodding at me. I smile back, crossing my fingers that Sloane’s loud voice didn’t carry too far. I’ve got enough problems as it is.
Lowering my voice, I say, “Moving on. Spanking? Like I’m a misbehaving five-year-old? It seems silly to me.”
“It won’t when you’re facedown on his lap with a stinging rear end and a soaking wet coochie.”
I start to laugh and can’t stop.
