Debbi Rawlins - In His Wildest Dreams

“No, not at all.”

“Then you know men can have, um, wilder imaginations sometimes.”

“Of course.” She straightened, pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Her cheeks were still pink, her voice a little high, but her gaze narrowed suddenly, and when her glasses slipped, she looked over them at him. “There is a major difference between dreams and fantasy.”

“I know that.”

She stared at him in silence for a long torturous moment. “These are dreams you’re describing, and not wishful thinking, right?”

He chuckled. “Trust me. I would not be describing my fantasies to you.”

She blinked, lifted her chin. “As long as we understand each other.”

“Look, I’d be happy to edit some of this. It can’t all be that important—”

She vigorously shook her head. “That would compromise the results of the study. Tell me everything you remember.”

“Okay, Doc, where were we?”

She pressed rewind and kept her gaze on the tape. It took a couple of tries before she found where they’d left off, and each time she had to listen to him describe the dream, her cheeks got a shade pinker.

“There, I think you’ve got it,” he said, taking pity on her, and she immediately stopped the tape and pressed record.

“Okay, so while the other women were kissing, and the redhead and blonde were arguing about something—”

“About what?”

“I couldn’t tell. I don’t think I really heard what they were saying but just had a sense they were angry. Anyway, I was too concerned about this other woman who came in.”

“Another one?” Her eyebrows lifted in shock, and then she quickly wiped all expression from her face. “Tell me about her.”

“Let’s see, she had long dark hair, great legs, a great— I couldn’t see her face. I got really agitated about that, but the only view I got was the back of her.”

“Did you feel as though you knew her?”

“Nah, I think maybe I was trying to place her but I really had no idea.”

“What was she wearing?” She paused, frowning. “Nick?”

He slumped back. How could he have been so stupid! Through the haze of dawning, he vaguely heard Doc call his name. “A black thong,” he said absently. “That’s all.”

The woman in his dream was the same one he’d glimpsed yesterday. That’s why he couldn’t see her face in the dream. Wow, this was really something. Kind of weird. He’d never obsessed like this before.

“You’re remembering something, I take it?”

He stared blankly at her. Should he admit he saw someone else in the back room? She’d have to fess up then. But she’d also have a million questions about the woman being the centerpiece of his dream. No thanks.

“Not really.” He shrugged at the curiosity in her face. “Sorry, Doc, I guess I was too excited about, um, the upcoming events to think about anything else.”

“Right.” Emma fidgeted with the pencil, and then stared down at her pathetic notes. Good thing she was taping this interview or she’d be in sorry shape later. Either the other male subjects she’d studied had held back on her, or this guy had only sex on the brain. Of course the others had relayed some sexual encounters, but Nick was too much.

Part of her was glad for the opportunity to make her study so thorough. The other part wanted to sink into a hole and not surface for a month. It wasn’t that she was a prude, but it wasn’t easy to sit here and listen to this stuff and pretend it didn’t faze her. The last thing she wanted to do was spook him so that he started censoring himself.

On the other hand…

“Did you want me to continue?” he asked casually, as if they were discussing the weather.

“Yes, of course. You were telling me about the dark-haired woman.”

“Oh, I didn’t forget, Doc.” He smiled again, shifted in his seat, getting comfortable, his eyes half closing, probably trying to get back into the dream. Oh, boy. “She didn’t say anything, just watched the other two women argue. And then it was almost like she communicated to them silently because they stopped suddenly, and the redhead picked up the handcuffs and slapped them around my wrists.”

“Wait a minute, let’s back up.” She was really botching this. She hadn’t had him set the scene up properly. “You said you were sitting. Were you restrained in any way?”

“No.”

“So you could have gotten up and left if you wanted?”

He drew his head back in exaggerated surprise and flashed a quick grin. “Would you have?”

She tried not to glare. “Go on.”

“Let’s see, oh, yeah…the redhead cuffed me to these two pole lamps on either side of my chair and then she finished unzipping my pants.” He paused, frowning, as though he were trying to recall something.

“Was there anything familiar about her?”

“Which one?”

“Any of them.”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Yeah, maybe.”

“I’m not trying to put words in your mouth. Think about it for a minute and see if anything comes to mind.”

“Uh, sorry, Doc, but it wasn’t my mind they was appealing to.”

Emma sighed. “Would you be serious?”

“You kidding? I’m being so serious and honest, it’s scary.”

She groaned inwardly. She had to give him that one. “What else?”

“The dark-haired woman was just about to turn around but the blonde blindfolded me with one of the silk scarves before I could see the brunette’s face. And then I felt all these different hands on me, yanking off my shirt, pulling down my pants.”

He paused to take another sip of water, and Emma braced herself for what came next. “Maybe you should just use my notes for the rest.”

She forced her gaze to meet his as she stopped the recorder. “You don’t need to be embarrassed.”

He leaned back, totally at ease. “I’m not. Actually, I’m enjoying the replay. I figured you might be a little uncomfortable.”

She gave her best breezy laugh and shoved her glasses into place. “I’ve heard hundreds of dreams. I’d hardly be embarrassed at this point.”

And then she caught her reflection in the brass stapler. Oh, God. If her cheeks got any redder, Nick would probably think she was having a stroke and call the paramedics.

“Okay, Doc. Have it your way.”

She stared down at her notebook, and thought about how many loads of laundry she had to do, how she’d waited too long to defrost her freezer, again. When heat still stung her cheeks, she thought about how she’d already eaten her backup pint of chocolate ice cream and hadn’t replaced it. That helped sober her a little.

“Ready?” She started the recorder again without waiting for his reply.

“After they had my clothes off, one started kissing me while another one licked and bit my nipples. I was irritated that I didn’t know who they were, and then they both backed off and I remember being cold where the air hit the damp spots on my skin where they had their mouths.”

Emma swallowed…mostly to make sure her mouth wasn’t hanging open. “So it was important to you to know the aggressors’ identities?”

“Do I seem like the kind of guy who’d go for anonymous sex?” Nick grinned with that devilish twinkle in his eyes, and for the first time she could recall, Emma wanted to smack a test subject. “No, Doc, I didn’t care particularly who they were. I wanted to know if it was the blonde or the redhead who was sucking me so hard I thought I’d come for a week.”

She tried her damndest not to show any reaction. “I guess you left that part out,” she said crisply, attempting to cool her rising temper. He was trying to goad her, she was sure of it.

“Actually, I was just getting to that— Hey, why are you looking at me with malice in those pretty hazel eyes? It’s a dream, Doc, I can’t help what went on in my sleep. You said so yourself.”

“You’re right.”

“You also told me not to hold back or censor myself.”

“Yes, I did.” It was difficult to maintain her composure when she truly had the urge to smack that innocent look off his face.

“So why are you looking so pissed off?”

“I’m not pissed off. That would be unprofessional.” She pushed up her glasses, enormously thankful they hadn’t fogged up. “I’m disappointed that you seem to think this is a joke.”

“Not true.” He gave his head an emphatic shake. “You may be used to all this blunt talk but I’m not. I have to look for a little humor to ease the tension.”

Oh, yeah, she was really used to all this. She cleared her throat as she readied the recorder again. “I apologize for misjudging the situation. Please continue.”

He tried to hide a smile, but she saw it, lurking at the corners of his mouth before he passed a hand over his face and blew into his palm.

She didn’t believe for a minute that this talk made him uncomfortable. He’d already admitted that he was getting off on it, and that she believed. Because, dammit, she wasn’t making it through this session totally unaffected herself. She’d had to shift twice to make sure he couldn’t see how much her nipples had tightened, and how they pushed against her flimsy bra and thin cotton shirt.

“Well, Doc,” he said, stretching, his arms wide, his chest broad and muscled under his snug blue T-shirt. “I hate to disappoint you but that’s about it. After they got me out of my pants and started—” A ghost of a smile played about his lips again. “Doing ‘the nasty,’ I woke up. I had urgent business that was best taken care of in the bathroom. But I don’t think you need to know about that.”

She gave him a disapproving glare in answer, and clicked off the recorder.

He immediately straightened. “We’re done?”

“Yes, unless you have another dream you remember.” She almost hated to ask.

“You’re in luck.” He indicated his notes with a jut of his chin. “The next one I call In Broad Daylight.”

“HOW DID YOUR MEETING with Nick go yesterday?” Brenda had gotten to Big Joe’s diner first and was already working on a strawberry milkshake.

“Fine. We had our first session this afternoon.”

Brenda switched her interest from the milkshake to Emma. “And?”

“You know I can’t tell you what we talked about. If he wants to discuss his dreams with you, that’s up to him.” Emma stared down at the menu, even though she knew it by heart.

Even though she always got a cup of chicken vegetable soup and a side of fries.

“Oh, no, don’t tell me he got to you, too.”

That ridiculous crack made her look up. “What are you talking about?”

“I no sooner mentioned his name and your cheeks got pink. What’s up with that?”

“That wasn’t about Nick.” She sighed with indecision and studied the small jukebox on the table. “He has some rather racy dreams. And that’s all I’m saying.”

Brenda burst out laughing. “Poor baby. I should have warned you. Nick is totally uninhibited.”

“Really?”

At Emma’s sarcasm, Brenda laughed again. “That’s just Nick. He skipped so many grades in school that from the time he was ten he hung out with older kids. At sixteen he started college. Mom and Dad kind of left him alone because he was such an excellent student, and sometimes he hung around with too racy a crowd. Made him immune. Nothing bothers him. He doesn’t mean anything.”

“Right.” Maybe today she’d splurge and add a chocolate malted to her order.

“Oh, come on, Em. I know him. I give him a hard time, and yeah, I’ve made cracks about him, but he has a lot of good points. He’s loyal to a fault, a real pushover for the underdog and the best listener. If I ever need an ear or sound advice, I go straight to Nick. Honest, he’s okay. I wouldn’t have offered him up as a sacrifice to your study, otherwise.”