This was going too fast—her worrying about him fucking other women and him wanting to reassure her that he wouldn’t. He kissed her tenderly, trying to convey some of those feelings, and as she tangled her tongue with his, passion consumed both of them and he whispered, “Hold on.”
He hoped to hell he had a condom in his wallet. He did. Thank God. Rushing back to Monica, he rolled it on but guilt stabbed at him. “Are you certain this isn’t going too far with a stranger?”
“It’s too late to turn back,” she whispered.
He slipped two fingers in her pussy, and finding it dripping wet and hearing her longing moan, he knew she was right.
She found his throbbing cock and wrapped her hands around it. “Anyway, I don’t want to turn back. I’ve never wanted a man so badly. You are an amazing hunk of manhood.”
He was stunned by her words. Clearly she was speaking out of lust and he wished she felt more than that when what he truly sought was love. Lust was what started all this but in a short time it had escalated … for him. Maybe it was too soon to call it ‘love’, but he cared about this woman.
“I don’t want to stop either,” he said, holding very still.
“Nick.”
She squeezed his biceps, ran her fingers across to his nipples and played them like a banjo. Gently tugging the hairs on his chest, she nibbled his neck, giving him goose bumps. God, she was driving him into a frenzy so why was he hesitating? Because he was having his way with her under false pretences?
“Nick … please.”
“Okay, honey. If you’re sure that’s what you want.”
She nodded hard and stroked his penis.
“Okay, sweetheart.” It was too late to entertain second thoughts. He just hoped he could make things right with her later. Raising up on his knees and lining his penis up with her pussy, he slid it in slowly. “Oh my God,” he murmured. Such ecstasy. Such sweet torture. She contracted her muscles, squeezing him. He lost it and plunged.
She cried out and he backed off slowly, then unable to help himself plunged again. He pulled almost out, and digging her fingernails into his back, she tugged him closer and he entered her again.
“You are so hot … so very hot,” he growled.
She panted hard and raised her hips to meet his. He tried to keep it slow but he needed to consume her. Needed to reach the very depths of her. And she wanted him too, so he began pounding his cock into her sweet, wet pussy with her writhing in pleasure beneath him, crying out in ecstasy. Never had lovemaking been so overwhelming.
“I’m coming,” she whimpered.
And that was all it took. He felt the waves of climax rolling up and over him. “Me too.”
They crested, crying out and shuddering, and he held her close to him, raining kisses on her shoulders and face.
To think that I came here to replace a sagging door. And found so much more.
“I owe Julie a big ‘thank you’,’’ Monica said, smiling contentedly at Nick lying beside her in bed. “I’ll never be able to give her a Christmas present to equal that.”
“Unless you want to send me her way,” he said, chuckling as he brushed back tendrils of hair, wet from perspiration, off her forehead.
“Not a chance.”
“Good. Because I’m sure she wouldn’t measure up to you. That was fantastic.”
She raised her face for a kiss and he happily obliged. “I don’t feel like you’re someone I just met,” she said. With her arms around him she rubbed his back.
“We made an intense connection.”
“So you felt it too.”
He turned his head to look out the window.
Taking his face between her hands, she turned it toward her. “What’s the matter, Nick? Are you sorry that we connected?”
“It’s not that.” So many thoughts were running through his head he didn’t know what to say. That he felt like he was falling in love? That he was a bastard for making love to her under false pretences? He’d made a big mistake in not telling her he was the carpenter she’d called. But would she have given him a second look then?
“I was thinking about getting my truck stuck in the snow and how I ended up here on foot because of it and I looked to see if the sun was still shining. But it’s only snowing harder.”
“You were coming here anyway. Right? So getting stuck isn’t a factor until you’re ready to leave. And the way the snow is coming down you may not be able to.” She laughed lightly. “Wouldn’t that be terrible?”
When he didn’t answer she turned away and folded her arms across her breasts. “We’ve covered just about everything on the menu. So if you’re worried about freeing your truck and leaving, you’re welcome to go.” She looked at the ceiling and a tear slid down her cheek.
Nick turned her toward him and looked into her eyes. “Monica, I don’t normally go around screwing women I just met. You are special. I want you to know that and not feel bad. And yeah, I was worrying about how I’m eventually going to get my truck moving, but fuck the snow. If I can’t get out, too bad. I like being here with you and we haven’t indulged in dessert yet.”
“Sweet Finishes,” she corrected him.
“Right, and since this first day on the job might be my last, we should complete the menu.”
Her smile was bright as sunshine after a rain, she didn’t look like a woman in lust, but he hoped they wouldn’t have to choose one or the other like the title of Julie’s book.
“Ready?” he asked.
Monica nodded, wondering what he was going to do, and when Rick pulled her arms up over her head and held them there by the wrists, she thought another fantasy come true.
He kissed his way from her forehead down to her navel where he dipped his tongue inside. Nibbling now, he worked his way down to the lips of her vagina where he plunged and licked, and taking her clitoris in his mouth, sucked until she went wild.
“Nick. It’s too much.” She writhed away and then moved closer, pressing against him. “But don’t quit. Oh my lord. I’ve never felt anything like this.”
She’d experienced oral sex but none that was comparable. “If you keep that up I’ll climax again. Quickly. Or go crazy.”
As Nick began caressing her clit, slowly, maddeningly with his tongue, she buried her fingers in his hair, clutching tightly. He inserted a finger into her vagina and found the spot.
“Oh, Nick. You’re driving me out of my mind.”
“You like it though, don’t you, sweetheart?” Working his fingers inside her and sucking her clitoris with his magical lips, he sent her over the top. Way over. Climaxing like the finale at the Fourth of July fireworks, every nerve in Monica’s body fired off, shooting waves of ecstasy throughout.
When the shuddering stopped and she lay in his arms, she sighed. Nick fulfilled every fantasy she’d ever had but that was the catch. Unless he quit his job he’d never be hers alone and she didn’t want to share or give him up. How was she going to get past this amazing experience? Forget this day? Get over him? She couldn’t be in love, could she? It had to be lust. But if it was, she should be satisfied and not worried sick he was going to fuck someone else today. And tomorrow. And the next day.
Suddenly ashamed of being such a bad best friend, she wished she’d read Jules’ book. Love or lust, she wanted Nick in her bed forever.
Sated beyond belief by a full menu of sexual delights, Rick was hungry for real food, and naked as the day he was born, strolled into Monica’s kitchen. “I’m starving,” he declared as she came up beside him.
She looked toward the baskets he’d brought and he realised she expected real food treats as part of the Fantasy Package. “Ah yes. Good idea.” He found some Godiva Chocolates and took the bottle of champagne from the other basket. Holding them out, he shook his head. Romance foods, but not very filling. “Wait, I think there’s some cheese and crackers.” He dipped in again and came out with the Brie and sesame thins. Rick didn’t know how to make these treats into fantasy fare
but Monica must have seen his hesitation because she came to the rescue.
“I think you’re supposed to dip strawberries in champagne and feed them to one another,” she said, “but if the Fantasy people sent cheese, so be it.”
Spreading a blanket on the living room floor and putting down a few pillows, she laid out a cheeseboard, knife, crackers and napkins.
While he poured more champagne and cut the cheese into small wedges, she put Christmas music on to play.
“Oysters are supposed to be an aphrodisiac but I hate them,” Rick said a little later when they lay on pillows, feeding one another chocolate.
“Who needs aphrodisiacs anyway?” Monica said, laughing. “We did fine without them.” Suddenly she sat up straight. “Nick … shouldn’t I do you?”
Startled by her question he hesitated, wondering if she was asking what he thought. “You mean … uh…”
Monica nodded firmly. “Wouldn’t you like me to do what you did to me?”
“Perform oral sex?” She nodded again and he chuckled. “What’s her name, your friend, wanted to treat you to a fantasy.” He got hard again thinking about it but he wasn’t sure he was up for it this soon. It was nice just lying here together and he didn’t think his fantasies were on the menu.
“That’s true.” She lay back again, reaching for his hand. “But I would. I mean I’d like to.”
“You really would?”
“Yes, and…” She reached for his penis, now standing at attention. “I think you’d like it too. I’d like making you happy.”
Rick turned on his side, facing her, and saw she was smiling. “Everything about my time with you today has made me happy.” He bet Monica would be fun to spend more time with. She was open and honest yet sweet and innocent, seemingly naïve and yet not. He stroked a finger along her jaw line. “Maybe later if you don’t change your mind.”
“I won’t. What do you want to do now?”
“I want to know more about you. Why are you living out here in the boonies all alone?”
“I like it, and this was a house I could afford. I’ve always wanted a house. Do you have one?”
“Yeah, I do. A cedar home that looks like a log cabin with a wraparound porch. It’s located in a suburb, and I wish it were on a location like yours instead. It is surrounded by fir trees so I pretend that I live in a wooded rural area.”
She smiled. “Pretending can be good. Do you live there alone?”
“Just Roger and me.” Monica’s mouth fell open. “Roger is my hunting dog. I hope after what happened in bed you don’t think I could possibly be gay.” He feigned indignation. “I lived with a woman for awhile, but I’ve never been married. Have you?”
“No live-ins. No husbands. What happened between you and the woman you lived with?”
“We were engaged and she cheated on me … with the guy I considered my best friend. Don’t think that doesn’t make you wonder whom you can trust. It’s been eight months since we broke up, and I haven’t dated much since then.” He sighed and she rubbed his thigh, murmuring a consoling sound. “My turn to ask a question,” he said. “Why haven’t you married? I’m sure someone’s asked a lady as lovely as you.”
“I want true love that will last. Jules says I’m an idealist and asking for too much, but I don’t think so. I was proposed to once but…” She shrugged.
“Then I’m an idealist too, because that’s what I want. And kids. I thought maybe you were waiting for your fantasy.”
“I do hope to marry a man that can make love as well as you.”
“That’s nice to hear.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.
“I want kids too.” Suddenly Monica sat up straight, crossing her arms over her chest. “Did I hear someone knocking?”
“I hope not,” Rick said, although he’d heard something too. Damn. What if it’s the real Fantasy Man? His goose was cooked if it was. Bolting from the floor to the bedroom, he grabbed his jeans and pulled them on over his naked ass.
Monica sat frozen. “What are you doing?”
“I’ll get the door. You get something on.”
“Wait. I didn’t hear anything else. I might have imagined it.”
The person outside knocked harder.
He wished it was imagination but a glance out the window revealed a red van with black lettering and Rick knew what had to be done. If Monica found out he wasn’t the Fantasy Man, the shit would hit the fan. Why in hell did he let himself get into this mess? “We could ignore it and maybe whoever it is will go away.”
“What if it’s someone who got stuck in the snow and needs help?”
“If something like that ever happens and you’re back here in this godforsaken place alone, you shouldn’t answer. You know that don’t you?”
“I never thought about it, but I’m not alone now. You’re here with me.”
“Do I look like the kind of fool who’d take on a stranger who might be an escaped prisoner or a serial killer?” He was exactly that kind of fool but he had to frighten her out of opening the door even if it meant she’d think he was a chicken.
The spinning of tires in the snow told Rick the Fantasy Man was leaving and he breathed a sigh of relief, but Monica was running for the door. Peeking out, she stomped her foot. “Damn. I’m too late. It’s a red van but whoever-it-is drove away.”
“So they weren’t stuck and they must have decided they had the wrong house,” Rick said.
She eyed him up and down and he had the feeling she was ticked. The door was still open and he pointed to the snow blowing in on the floor.
“What is it with you?” Monica asked, slamming the door shut. “Were you trying to scare me out of living out here alone? Or do you really have such a vivid imagination? Prisoners? Serial Killers?” She rolled her eyes.
“I guess I might have overdone it a bit,” he said, dropping his chin and shifting his feet. A woman with a hot temper, she apparently lived life with passion … about everything. Now he really had cause to worry how she’d react when she found out what he’d done. “I just wanted to impress on you that you should be careful.”
“I took karate lessons and a self-defence class, so I think I can take care of myself.” She advanced on him shaking her finger.
Nick thought his life might be in danger if she learned the truth about what happened. Edging backward slowly and hoping she wouldn’t notice, he thought it was time for him to leave.
“And I didn’t take them because I moved out here in this godforsaken rural area. I took them in case I needed to defend myself in a parking garage or in the laundry room at my apartment building or on the city streets.” She took a deep breath. “So whatever you were trying to do just now, cut it the hell out, Saint Nick, because I feel safer here than anywhere I’ve lived.”
Chapter Four
Monica heated some homemade vegetable soup left over from the day before and sat down at the wooden table by the kitchen window. Staring out at the fine mist of falling snow, she wondered what Nick was doing now. Had AAA arrived yet? After her tirade, he’d pulled a cell phone out of his tool belt and called, then went to his car to wait. She’d felt bad when he walked out into the deepening snow and told him he was welcome to wait in the house, but he’d apologised for staying so long already and left, toting his toolbox and baskets.
She should have offered to drive him down the lane since he had so much to carry, and so she could see if his vehicle said ‘Fantasy’ on it. If so, she was glad she lived back here where no one could see the Fantasy-mobile pulling into her drive.
It seemed odd that he thought he’d stayed too long. He didn’t seem in a hurry before. Maybe he meant he should have left before she got angry. If he hadn’t used the word ‘godforsaken’ she might not have spouted off like that but she loved her house and was proud of owning it. More likely what set her off was that embarrassing question—a real putdown that he threw at her after she called him ‘Saint Nick’.
“If you’re so damne
d smart and so careful, why didn’t you ask for identification before letting me in?”
She should have asked even though the baskets and their contents told her she’d jumped to the right conclusion, that he was Nick, the Fantasy Man, and one glance at his exquisite looks told her Jules had made an excellent choice. Yes she knew his name was really Rick but like he said, it was her fantasy. Not only was he the most handsome man but also the best built in every way … Monica smiled, recalling the way he looked naked … and he definitely knew how to use what he had.
The phone rang and she closed her eyes momentarily, hoping that it was him calling to make up and say he’d like to see her again.
“Hello?” It wasn’t him. But he probably hadn’t gotten home yet. However he did have a cell. “Jules, thank you! What a gift you sent me! He was indeed any woman’s fantasy. And wow, did he know how to make a woman happy.”
Julie wanted all the details and Monica gave her a few, hugging the really intimate ones to herself.
“You certainly sound enthusiastic,” Jules responded when she finished. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, but you weren’t supposed to fall for this guy, and it sounds like you did.”
“I’ll never be the same,” Monica confessed. “No man will measure up.”
Jules groaned. “I didn’t expect that reaction. I hope there isn’t a rule against Fantasy Men seeing their clients again on their personal time or we’re both screwed. You lose a dream guy and I lose a best friend.”
Monica’s spirits fell as she considered the idea, but he’d talked about quitting his job and even though they parted on a sour note something between them had clicked. He’d get back in touch with her, she was almost certain.
“Mon?” Julie said softly. “Think about it. Are you in love or lust? You have read my book, haven’t you?”
Thankfully she must have meant that as a rhetorical question because without waiting for an answer, she went on to ask about his looks. “Did I do a good job choosing him?”
“Marvellous. He was perfect in every way. His dark curly hair and amazing blue eyes contrasted perfectly, and he had a body to die for.”
Fantasy Man Page 3