Page 101 of Revelation

She inhales sharply. “You blow me away, too.” Her face turns bright red.

I suddenly feel like I’m on the verge of babbling every thought in my head again—all the stuff I was about to say a minute ago, before I escaped into the bathroom. Fuck me, I wanna tell her about Seattle.

“All right, babe,” I say, rolling off her. “Enough talking about cartoons—we’ve got kinky-fuckery to talk about.”

She laughs. “Nice transition.”

I sit up in bed. “So here’s the deal, Heidi Kumquat. When I wrote my application to The Club I was in a totally different state of mind than I am now.”

She nods. This is not news to her.

I exhale. “Would you be terribly disappointed if we moved right into doing everything on your fantasy list and skipped the stuff I wrote about in my application to The Club?”

“Why?”

I shrug. “Doing that shit now just feels like trying to relive my junior prom. Now all I wanna do is go to myseniorprom—with you.”

She grins. “Aw. You’re asking me to prom?”

“So you’re not disappointed?” I ask. “You seemed pretty excited to be on the receiving end of all that shit in my application.”

She shrugs. “Hey, if you’re not feeling it, then we don’t do it.And, anyway, I got to be a high-end call girl. That’s what I was really jonezing for.” She makes a checkmark motion in the air. “Plus, I unexpectedly got a bonus mini-porno out of it, too—watching you get all riled up at the thought of anyone but you touching me was utterly delicious.” She shoots me a wicked smile.

“I knew it.”

She laughs a full-throated laugh.

“Diabolical,” I say, smiling. “Okay, cool. It’s settled. We’re doing your fantasies, baby.”

She squeals with pleasure.

“So this is how it’s gonna work. You’ll just go about your life, okay?—and sometimes shit will just start happening to you. And when it does, you’ll just play along. Don’t worry, you’ll totally know what to do because—” I slap my hands together hard, making her flinch. “Sorry. I just had a brilliant idea. I’ll be right back.” I leap out of bed and race to my hallway closet, my pulse pounding in my ears. Holy fuck, this is gonna be epic. I quickly find what I’m looking for and sprint back to my bed. “Open your hand, babe.” She does, and I place a poker chip in her palm. “Every time a fantasy is starting, you’ll get a poker chip just like this one. That way you’ll never be confused about whether a role-play is starting. You know, you won’t go, ‘Are youreallya fireman? Is my housereallyburning down—or are you here to eat my pussy?”

She laughs. “I don’t have a fireman fantasy—Colby’s a fireman. Too weird.”

I roll my eyes. “It was just an example, babe. I know all your fantasies, remember? I took copious notes. I’m just saying the poker chip will be our secret signal so I’ll never need to say, ‘Hey, Kat, I’m doing a fantasy now.’ That way you can just relax and enjoy the ride and play along.”

“But what if there reallyisa fire—using your example—and it happensafteryou’ve already given me the poker chip? You’d be like, ‘Fire, Kat! Fire!’ And I’d be like, ‘Oh, yeah, baby. I’m onfi-yah.’” She giggles.

“Good point,” I say, laughing with her. “We should have a safe word in case we need to stop the role-play for any reason.”

“Okay. How about ‘overcome’? Wasn’t that what you used with the women in The Club?”

I wave my hands in dismissal. I don’t even want to think about those women right now. “That wasthen, babe—this is now. Our fantasy-sex-club is all aboutfun—not exorcising my fucking demons.”

“Awesome,” she says, her eyes blazing. “How about ‘sick fuck,’ then?”

“Babe. Did you not hear a word I just said? I’m over it. Plus, I kinda dig it when you call me a sick fuck. I wanna keep that phrase as fair game. You never know what you might scream when I’m fucking the shit out of you in a dental chair.”

“Ooh.” She raises an eyebrow. “We’re gonna do the dentist thing?”

“Oh my God, you’re a terrible listener. What’d I just say?Yes.We’re gonna doeverything.”

She squeals. “Oh my God. This is gonna beredonk.”

“So what’s the safe word? It can be anything. Onomatopoeia.”

She giggles. “Who’s the idiot who came up with that word? Who needs so many syllables to say ‘Bam!’?”

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