Page 87 of Wicked Fantasies

“What if the clients don’t buy either of our campaigns?”

He snorted and she joined him in laughter. “Do I really need to answer that?”

“No,” she replied smugly. “I know they’ll buy mine.”

He’d never considered arrogance in a woman attractive, but he had to admit, he admired the hell out of her confidence.

“You mentioned a wager.”

“I’ve been thinking about last night. And yoursex with a strangerfantasy.” His voice dropped as he added the last part, and he watched her take a deep breath. Oh yeah. She’d definitely been thinking about it too.

“What about it?”

“I think you were on to something with that fantasy idea.”

Her face proved she wasn’t comfortable with their current conversation. The devil in him enjoyed picking at her.

“I have no idea what you’re getting at.”

He walked around his desk and took one of the two chairs in front of his desk, gesturing for her to sit in the other. She looked like she wanted to refuse. Obviously she preferred the safety of standing, lest she needed to make a quick escape.

“Sit down, Frankie.”

“Listen, Reed, I don’t?—”

“Dammit. Everything isn’t a fight. Sit down. I want to talk to you and I refuse to do it while you stand there glowering at me.”

She sat, leaning back against the chair, with her arms crossed over her chest. “Say it fast. Time is money.”

“You indulged in a fantasy with me last night. I think, regardless of the adversarial working relationship we now find ourselves in, we proved ourselves compatible in the dream realm.”

“Maybe so, but as I told you last night, my objective was achieved. I got the fantasy, so now I’m moving on. You served your purpose.”

“And you mean to tell me that was your only sexual fantasy.”

She looked at him quizzically. “Of course it wasn’t.”

Now they were getting to the heart of the matter. “If the client picks my ad campaign over yours, you owe me a sexual fantasy of my choosing. One interlude where you are completely at my disposal, available to make my wet dreams a reality. You will do anything and everything I say.”

“And when I win?”

She was a spunky thing. “Should such an unlikely event occur, you get the same reward.”

“You have to do anything I want in bed?”

He rested his elbow on the arm of the chair. “I don’t remember saying anything about a bed. The fantasy can be anything.”

She relaxed her pose, and he could see she was seriously considering his proposition. He wasn’t sure what was prompting him to suggest such a thing. He just knew that he had to have her again, and he’d do whatever it took to make that happen. Making the fantasies part of a game kept them on a level playing field and eliminated the commitment concern. Neither of them would enter the relationship with any expectations apart from nonstop, multiple orgasms.

“If I agree to this, I have one condition.”

He nodded slowly. He hated conditions, limits. With her, he knew he wanted no-holds-barred sex. “What condition?”

“No kissing.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “Kissing is intimate and I don’t think either of us is foolish enough to think this is anything more than fucking. This fantasy wager is made in the spirit of competition—winner takes all. Kissing doesn’t need to be a part of that.”

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