Fantasy Man

by Summer Jordan

  “Tell me you’re kidding,” Julie wailed. “I sent a blond guy with a beard. Remember that psychology prof you had the hots for our senior year of college? I had his image in mind when I placed the order. You were mad for him. Remember? You’re joking about dark hair and blue eyes. Right?”

  Monica remembered Professor Sexton, or Sexy as they nicknamed him, now that Jules brought him up, but she hadn’t thought of the guy in years. When she said she wasn’t joking, Jules wanted to call Fantasy Unlimited ‘to make it right’ and send another man that fit the description, but Monica protested. “I liked Nick just fine. I’m sure no one else could … do any better.”

  She was as puzzled as her friend why they sent an opposite and she was mulling it over when the phone rang again. She’d just gotten back to the table and her soup but excitedly ran for it, hoping it might be him and praying it wasn’t Jules saying she’d called Fantasy anyway and they were sending another man.

  “Hello, Ma’am? This is Linda, the secretary at Fantasies Unlimited, and we sent your gift from Julie this afternoon. The Fantasy Man she requested was set to deliver, but Nick says he knocked and when you didn’t answer he left.”

  Monica thought she was going to faint. “Nick?”

  “Yes, and he wants me to apologise for him but the snow was falling so fast he was afraid he’d slide off your lane and get stuck like that truck did or the roads would close. So Nick said he was terribly sorry but could he please reschedule?”

  “Exactly what does Nick look like?” She knew when she asked it was a lame question. If there was a truck stuck in her drive when he arrived, it had to have been Rick’s.

  Ohmigod. No wonder Rick hadn’t wanted her to answer the door. He was an impostor who’d taken advantage of her and the real guy was just arriving. Who on earth had she spent half the day making love with? The idea that it was a total stranger didn’t sound as inviting now as it had.

  “Blond hair and beard. Green eyes. Nice build. Exactly what your friend ordered. Is something wrong, Miss Adams?”

  No wonder Nick … Rick … said she should have asked for identification. Damned right, but pointing it out when he did was an admission of his guilt. She just didn’t see it at the time. If only she hadn’t been blown away by his looks she wouldn’t have assumed he was the Fantasy Man, but when she did, he should have set her straight, which meant that he obviously wanted her as much as she wanted him … whoever he was.

  Ohmigod. She’d called a carpenter who should have shown up two days ago. Was that who he was? How stupid was she? How clever of him.

  “Miss Adams?”

  “No, Linda. Nothing’s wrong.” Everything was wrong but she was sure Linda didn’t want to hear about it. “When the weather clears, send Nick back again.” And she’d fuck him just to get even with Rick.

  No. She wouldn’t. Hanging up, Monica burst into tears. She didn’t want anyone but the fake Fantasy Man she’d sent away, and since he was a fake she might have misjudged him and the connection she thought they’d made. She might never hear from him again. Could you fall in love with a person in just one day? Or did it have to be lust? She had to dig out Jules’ book.

  Sobbing, she beat her fists against the sagging door and it came loose from one hinge. Now she really needed a carpenter. Damn.

  Rick stood at Monica’s front door, afraid to knock. He wanted to see her again, but she’d gotten ticked at him, and now he was pissed at himself. He should never have made that last comment. Should never have told her she ought to have checked his identity. She should have, but he was a fool to bring it to her attention since he was an impostor, and it was bad timing to bring it up after they’d made love half the day.

  He raised his hand, still hesitant to knock. If she let him in she’d probably karate chop him or throw him to the ground and stomp on his balls, but he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. And he did have a legitimate reason to go to her house. She’d hired Rick Mason, Carpenter, to make some repairs, starting with a back door. He was a couple of days late, but she said the work wasn’t urgent and her carpentry needs might be ongoing, so he’d wrapped up some small jobs first to get them out of the way.

  He could have frozen to death waiting for a tow truck the other day but he couldn’t bring himself to stay in the house with her until AAA got someone there. And he was able to run the heater, but seeing her scurrying around the kitchen in a fuzzy robe with a soup bowl and running back and forth to the phone had turned a knife in his chest. He couldn’t have seen all that if he’d stayed in the truck but he kept venturing out to watch.

  Well this was it. By now she’d probably learned the whole truth and there was no way he could persuade her to see him again. He was taking his chances with nothing—or everything—to lose. He’d parked his truck in front of her house today, but if she’d looked out she hadn’t acknowledged his presence at her door yet. It was a quaint little cottage that looked like it came straight out of a fairytale, but she took great pride in owning it and took strong offence at him saying she lived on a godforsaken piece of land.

  He never considered himself insensitive but he’d grown cynical after he found Saranne in their bed with Carter. Nick thought he and she had an honest relationship and were friends if nothing else, but friendship doesn’t amount to a damn when the two people closest to you had sex with one another. Rick had felt disconnected in many ways since then. The other day with Monica, he’d experienced his first real feelings since. Then he blew it. She’d caught him off guard by getting all bent out of shape, and he’d said too much.

  One hand on his tool belt, Rick knocked on Monica’s front door. The snow had melted over the last four days and he was standing in slush so thick that when he shifted his feet it made a sucking sound. Everything sucked since he’d made her angry, and he dreaded her reaction to his hoax. He just hoped she hadn’t screwed the real Fantasy Man in retribution … or for any other reason.

  He knocked again and the door flew open. “Well!” Monica placed her hands on her shapely hips. “Do I know you … uh, what’s your name?”

  She was as beautiful as he remembered and as defensive as he expected. “Rick Mason, carpenter.” He almost said ‘here on a job’ but that wasn’t his primary reason for coming and he didn’t want her to think it was.

  “So your name really is Rick.”

  “I told you it was and I never claimed to be a Fantasy Man. May I come in so we can talk?” She sighed and he noticed she had dark circles under her eyes. It had been four days of misery for him. His pulse speeded up with hope.

  “Shouldn’t I see your identification first? Do you have any?”

  He took out his wallet and flashed his driver’s licence then flipped to his carpenter’s certification while fishing out a business card. “I know I’m a rat and you probably want to karate chop me but please, give me another chance.”

  “I’ve got to hear what you can possibly present in your defence,” she said, sighing. “Come in.”

  “I’ll try to explain.”

  “You have a lot of explaining to do … or … not. If you’d rather just admit you misrepresented yourself I’ll confess I was a fool and we can part ways. Now.”

  Rick followed her into the living room. At least she was willing to talk so maybe … maybe she wanted to settle this amicably as much as he did. Black slacks hugged her trim derriere and she wore a silky white blouse. She must be dressed for work. He hoped she’d just gotten home and wasn’t ready to leave.

  Monica perched on the edge of a chair, leaving him the sofa. “First of all, why did you come to my house last Saturday?”

  “You called and asked for my services. I’m a carpenter and I work half a day on Saturday.”

  “But you were supposed to show up on Thursday and if you weren’t trying to fool me, why did you come in carrying baskets?”

  “I didn’t until later. Those were Christmas gift baskets for my sister and sister-in-law. In the beginning I came to the door with a toolbo
x and wearing a tool belt. I would have thought that would have identified me as a carpenter. But by the time I figured out that you thought I was the Fantasy Man I’d gotten in pretty deep. You’d told me your fantasy and I was so attracted to you I gave in to temptation.”

  “How could you? How could you come in here and take me to bed without setting the record straight? I realise I made a mistake. A big one making that assumption, but I made a bigger one going to bed with a liar.”

  “You wanted to go with some stranger and when I realised that, I wanted it to be me. I figured you were safer with me than with the kind of perverts a kink-based company would hire.” He hung his head. “I apologise.”

  “How’s that going to help? We had wild, fantastic sex, and how are you going to erase that from my mind?”

  “Or mine. It was out-of-this-world, wasn’t it? I really didn’t intend to go all the way but you were such a temptress, I couldn’t stop.”

  He saw her eyes flash and her mouth fly open and he knew he’d done it again. Said the wrong thing. “Not temptress. Tempting,” he muttered, grabbing her and kissing her still open mouth. “I wanted you so much.”

  Dipping in his tongue, he slid his hands down to her tush and squeezed. She pushed her hands against his chest but he held on, and slowly she stopped fighting and kissed him back. “I still do,” he said.

  When they were both totally breathless Rick whispered in her ear. “I had to come back, Monica. I had to see you again. In those few short hours, I think I fell in love with you.”

  “You do? You did?” She smiled and he knew she felt something for him too. Something more than lust.

  “I hope you feel the same way … enough to give me a chance. Please?”

  Chapter Five

  Monica was mentally fighting herself for letting him sway her into forgiving him when he said, “I think I fell in love with you.” Hearing those words, she was totally floored because she thought she loved him too, and the reasoning side of her brain was declaring her insane and saying it wasn’t possible.

  “Say something,” Rick said, a touch of desperation in his voice. “Your silence is killing me.”

  “I’ve missed you,” she said softly, leading the way to the couch and patting the cushion for him to sit down. “Angry as I was with you, I prayed you’d call.”

  “Does that mean that you feel the same about me as I do you?”

  “It was a low-down thing to do, you know. Deceiving me to satisfy your desire.” She looked up at him and saw the pain in his eyes before he turned away.

  “Sweetie, I also did it to satisfy your desire. You let me in with sex in mind, and after you confessed your fantasy I’d have had to be crazy to walk away.”

  For the first time Monica admitted to herself she was just as much to blame as he. “Put that way, I see what you mean,” she said quietly.

  “Just the same, I’m not proud of what I did,” Rick said, “but dammit, I can’t honestly say I’m sorry. I’ve relived every moment we spent together, and I wouldn’t have wanted to miss out on any of them. I knew it was wrong, but there you were, handing me a menu, ready to take off your clothes.” He smiled and she swatted him on the arm.

  “I thought I should be a good sport since Julie sent me a gift.”

  “A gift you’d always wanted, and I’m glad I got here first.”

  “So am I. I’m not sure I could have gone through with it if it was another man. One look at you and I was ready.”

  “Since you’re such a good sport, and you’re looking at me now, you wouldn’t welsh on that promise you made me the other day would you?”

  He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her.

  “What promise was that? You mean the one to do you?” Feeling his hardness through his pants, she couldn’t help herself—she wiggled against him. “Mm,” she murmured. “I can tell you’re serious.”

  “I wish there was a way to prove how serious I am about my feelings for you. And honey,” he slipped his hand between them to rub her pussy. “You don’t have to do me.”

  “What do you say we do one another?” she asked, her breath starting to come fast.

  “I like the way you think,” he said. Picking her up, Rick carried her to the bedroom, placed her on the bed and shucked off his pants and shirt. She lay watching and wanting him and wondering if she’d been too easy, but as soon as he took off his jockey shorts and she saw his wonderful cock she didn’t care. She wanted Rick. Now.

  She unzipped her pants and he slipped slid them down over her legs and then inched his hands up her silky calves and thighs to finger her crotch through her polka-dot bikinis. “I think I had these wrapped around my face the other day. I seem to remember seeing spots before my eyes. But it would have been better if you’d been in them at the time.”

  She smiled and reached for his velvety penis. “Mm,” she said. “I see something else before my eyes.”

  He unbuttoned her blouse, fumbling in his haste, and when he’d finished undressing her, lay next to her on his side, facing her mound of soft brown curls. She ran her hand up and down his cock with a feathery motion, paying special attention to the throbbing head. He traced the outline of the opening to her vagina with his finger before slipping it in, and then he repeated the motion with his tongue. She took that hard, shiny bulb between her lips and sucked. He fucked her with his tongue, jabbing hard, and she drew as much of his shaft into her mouth as she could, working her mouth up and down it. He held the cheeks of her bottom tightly with his hands so she couldn’t wiggle away as the feelings grew in intensity. She suckled the tip of his cock until she tasted thick hot nectar and licked the length of it up and down, paying special attention to the tiny opening at its tip.

  “I love it,” he mumbled against her clitoris. “Fucking and sucking you all over.”

  His talk made Monica’s blood run hotter and her juices flow faster. Quivering, she drew harder and faster on his phallus.

  “Can you take a little more of me in?” Rick asked, raising his face to look at her. His chin was covered with her juices and she grew hotter yet. She tried to do what he said and he pushed, and just then his hot sperm erupted in her mouth and throat. She instinctively started to pull away but his excited cries heightened her emotions and she swallowed greedily.

  Her jaws started to ache, but she didn’t stop until he gasped, “Enough. I can’t take any more.”

  She let go of him and he began nibbling her clitoris, harder. He grasped one cheek of her fanny with one hand and caressed a breast with the other.

  “Oh. My. Lord,” she cried as the waves of ecstasy rolled over and through her body.

  “How long were you engaged?” Monica, face flushed and still weak in the knees, asked Rick a little while later as they sat at the kitchen table drinking beer.

  “A year, but we dated a long while before that. I purchased her the ring to buy myself time. She kept wanting to set a wedding date, and I was never ready. She was in love with the idea of a formal ceremony more than with the idea of married life, I think. After I found her in bed with my friend, Carter, I realised I’d been hesitant because something wasn’t right between her and me. And after last Saturday with you, I knew what it was.”

  Someone knocked at the front door and Monica froze. Rick didn’t react so she thought maybe he hadn’t heard it, and she wished she hadn’t. It would be a very bad time for the Fantasy Man to appear. She thought Linda would call before sending him and she’d planned to cancel.

  Rick took Monica’s hand in his. “I didn’t love Saranne. She’d become a habit with me and we were friends, or so I thought. The thing that hurt the most was that I trusted her. And him.”

  A giant lump seemed to have lodged itself in Monica’s throat. Rick played with the fingers of her left hand and she thought about the woman who’d worn his diamond ring and screwed his best friend.

  Someone knocked again. “I don’t think you can go on ignoring that,” he said. “At least we know it’s not the Fantas
y Man,” he added, chuckling.

  When she didn’t move, Rick went on. “Her desire … I hope you don’t mind my talking about this … never matched mine. And my desire for her never equalled mine for you. Nor the satisfaction. You know why? I love you, and you love me.”

  “How can you be sure? Remember, Jules wrote a book, Telling Love from Lust, and since I’ve never read it, I still don’t know.”

  Rick chucked Monica under the chin playfully and smiled straight into her eyes. “We lust after one another, but that has to be part of love.”

  The knock sounded again, and whoever it was obviously wasn’t going away. Monica’s blood froze in her veins and she pulled her hand away. “I think Jules is behind the knock at the door. She’s the one who sent me … is sending me … a Fantasy Man.”

  “Is? She’s going to send you another one?”

  “She’s going to send the one she sent before. Remember? You wouldn’t let me answer the door when he arrived.”

  “So I wasn’t good enough to be your Fantasy? You want to have sex with some other guy?” Face red, Rick ran his hands through his hair.

  “You weren’t really my Christmas gift.”

  “If you love me you would tell her to keep her gift.”

  Monica sighed. “I did tell her but…”

  “Answer the damned door.”

  Shooting Rick a look that she hoped singed his beautiful hair, she stomped her way to the front door and threw it open.

  “Miss Adams?” A bearded man in a red velvet suit with white fur trim stood there. “I have a special delivery from Ms. Jules,” and he reached into his bag and pulled out a package. “Merry Christmas.” And holding his belly, he laughed, “Ho-ho-ho.”

  And damned if he didn’t get into a helicopter and lift off. Mon wouldn’t have been surprised to see reindeer in front of it.

  Rick clapped a hand on Monica’s shoulder. “Hot damn. It’s Christmas Eve and you had me so befuddled I forgot I’m supposed to be on the way to my brother’s. Will you go with me and meet my family?” he asked, spinning her around to kiss her.