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She groaned. “If I tell you, you have to remember this is something I had a dream about as a teenager, and it’s . . . uh . . . a little weird.”
“People’s weird fantasies are what pay my bills, and I wouldn’t own a kink club if I didn’t have my own fair share of weird kinks. I doubt yours is even uncommon.”
“Probably not.” She twirled a lock of her hair around a finger and stared at the ceiling, trying to work up the courage to let the words out after holding them in so long. She’d never told anyone. Her friends never talked about things like this and she was pretty sure they didn’t think about them either.
“So tell me.”
“It’s pretty twisted.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” His dark chuckle made her cover her face with her hand. Could she really tell him this? She definitely wouldn’t be telling him that the man in her fantasy used to have no specific face, but somehow Will had superimposed himself over the original guy the last few times she’d thought about it.
“I was walking alone at night, in a parking lot.”
“It’s probably changed up in your head since then.”
“Yes,” she admitted. The whole thing had morphed in her head over time and gotten a lot . . . rougher. “I went to get into my car—not that I had a car at the time.” She laughed nervously. “And then he grabbed me. He was so much bigger—stronger—there was nothing I could do. I—” She cleared her throat and tried to figure out how to phrase it. “I’d never want this to happen to me for real. Stuff like this happens to people in real life, and it’s not hot—it’s terrifying.”
“Of course.” He didn’t sound shocked at all. Okay—maybe he could handle details.
“He kidnapped me and forced me to do humiliating things. He hurt me and kept me tied up and locked in his basement. It was like an episode of Criminal Minds without the murder part. Oh, and he was hot, of course.”
“What sorts of humiliating things did he make you do?”
“You know . . . like crawl, beg for mercy. He made me . . . service him. You know . . .”
“Yeah,” his voice was very quiet. Did he think she was a freak? Maybe she’d said too much, or maybe he’d been weirded out from the beginning.
“Anyway, I don’t know why I think about that sometimes,” she rushed on, face hot. “I try not to. It’s twisted and wrong.”
“It’s not an uncommon fantasy,” he said, sounding more like himself. “Do you really think about that or are you just trying to shock me?”
“Oh my God—why would I lie about that? If I were going to lie, I would have told you my most twisted fantasy was . . . having sex in the back of a car or something. It would have been way less humiliating.”
There was a long pause, which only made her more embarrassed.
“So what’s your fantasy?” she asked, desperate to change the subject.
“I can’t tell you that. I’m not even drunk.”
“Oh my God, you’re such a jerk. You got information out of me, and now you owe me parity.”
“I do, do I?”
“Totally.”
“I’ll tell you, but you’re going to think it’s weird.”
“Oh, shut up. After what I just told you? Yours is probably vanilla by comparison.”
“Fine, but you can’t tell anyone.”
“Deal.”
His voice dropped to a low, menacing growl. “I fantasize about kidnapping you out of a parking lot and keeping you in my basement—about hurting you and humiliating you and using you however and whenever I please.”
Was he mocking her? Jeez. Even if he was, it was working for her.
“Sure you do. I guess you have a convenient dungeon in your basement and everything.”
