She searched her mind, to check if she had ever seen this man before. She was sure that she would remember a man like this. She would have to be half-asleep not to remember a man like this. Her eyes ranged over his mountainous pectoral muscles, his rigid abdominal muscles, his tight biceps. He saw her looking, and purposefully tensed them. Rebecca felt a tingle of pleasure move through her, a tingle that urged her to leap across the room and grab this muscular stranger and take him right there. She wouldn’t do it. She wasn’t that kind of woman. But the urge was strong nonetheless.
“I work with your dad,” he said, his eyes moving up and down Rebecca. She was wearing gym shorts and a gym bra. She hadn’t thought there was anything sexual about it before, but his eyes lingered on her thin tanned legs, and her skinny belly, and then moved up to her face. “I’m his boss, actually. Clint Hunter.”
Her jaw dropped a second time. Clint Hunter! Dad’s boss is a goddamn hunk! No, don’t think like that. You can’t think of Dad’s boss like that. He’s more than twice your age! “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I have to go. I thought this was the women’s locker room. I made a mistake.”
“That’s fine,” Clint said. He shrugged. When he shrugged, it was like a reverberation moving through a range of mountains, ginormous bulges shifting. His belly, damn . . . Just to trail my fingers over those rock-hard muscles—No!“Are you sure you don’t want to stay?”
“What?” she said. “What the hell do you mean?” She tried to make her voice sound outraged, tried to make it sound like she had never heard anything so outrageous, tried to make it seem that the idea of staying there – with him – sickened her. But the truth was her mind already whirred with images of how this could go. She already imagined tearing that towel away with her teeth, and seeing what was underneath, and then falling to her knees. And he would fall to his knees, too, and I would feel the tickle of his beard between my legs. Tingles attacked her body cruelly. It was like her body was trying to get her to do something her mind knew she shouldn’t.
She took a step back. She knew that if she didn’t turn around and leave now, she would never turn around and leave. She looked at him one last time, and then without another word she turned and paced to the door. Within moments she had pushed the opposite door open. She didn’t bother with a shower. She didn’t want to risk seeing him in the lobby. Instead, she just grabbed her bag from the locker and half-ran, half-walked to her car.
Inside the car, she gripped the steering wheel so hard that her knuckles turned white. Her breath came fast. It was like she could feel her ribcage pressing into her lungs. She saw her hands gripping the steering wheel, and willed herself to stop. But they only gripped it harder. It wasn’t a panic attack. It was a goddamn lust attack.
“Rebecca, are you there?”
She lurched back into reality, back into the present day. Her memories had transported her back two years, back to her first and only meeting with Clint Hunter, back to the day she had returned to time and time again in her fantasies. Oh, it had been once or twice at first. I’ll just touch myself over him this once and then never again—Okay, one more time. And on and on and on.She had graduated college, she was a serviceable editor, and she had a normal young person’s life. She should have been happy, content, but she was not. At the mention of his name, she became somebody else.
“I’m here, Dad,” she said.
“Good,” Dad said. “Look, I know it’s not ideal. But we have a huge client at the moment. I won’t bore you with the details. And Mr. Hunter was kind enough to offer to come along, so we could get a bit of work done.”
“Okay, Dad,” she said.
She knew there was no point in arguing. She remembered Clint Hunter’s commanding tone of voice. She knew that he most likely had not offered so much as assumed. She could hear him now, leaning forward, smiling casually: “Raymond, I’ll come with you to LakeSapphire this long weekend. You don’t mind, do you?” And Dad, left with no other choice, would nod meekly.
“Great!” Dad laughed. “You’ll still have plenty of time to enjoy the peace and quiet. Probably more, with Mr. Hunter and me working all day!”
“That sounds good, Dad,” Rebecca said. “You’ll pick me up tomorrow morning, yeah?”
“Yeah, see you then.”
They hung up the phone. Rebecca was left with the thought that in one short day she would be in the company of Clint Hunter, the man who had fuelled every masturbation session for the last two years. Whenever she had reclined in bed, wishing to relax, and had moved her hand down her body to her pussy, and her softly stroked her lips, it had been him she’d thought of. She’d imagine that instead of leaving she’d walked across the room and climbed on top of him, his cock hard under his towel, writhing up and down until she came through her gym shorts, and then—
“Goddam it,” she muttered.
She got up from the couch and walked to the window. It was almost nine, but the city was alive, as it always was. She could hear sirens and raised voices and laughter and soft moaning. She had been looking forward to Lake Sapphire. She and Dad had been there before, and it had always been peaceful and relaxing.
She turned from the window. Her bedroom door taunted her, and she knew she would give into the taunt. He was too bright in her mind. His muscles were too real. She could almost hear his voice in her ear as though he was really in the room. She sighed, but even as she sighed she was excited. In a few moments she would be in the fantasy world of Clint Hunter.
Somehow, she doubted that this long weekend at Lake Sapphire would be peaceful and relaxing.
*****
Rebecca would have loved to see her own face when she left her apartment and it was just Dad in the car. It must have been something between a grimace and a smile, whatever that expression was. She had been anticipating Clint being in the passenger seat, and having to climb into the backseat. But it was just Dad, smiling. It was difficult to believe that Dad and Clint were the same age. She could hardly believe it. Dad was a typical near-fifty-year-old, with a balding head, with a bald patch shining through like an egg, a podgy belly, and thick glasses. He was what women Rebecca’s age thought of whenever they thought old man. Clint, though he was gray-haired and old, did not seem old.
“Are you okay?” Dad asked.
“Yeah,” Rebecca lied.
She couldn’t exactly tell him the truth: that’s he was nervous and excited at the same time to see Clint, a man she had only met once, but a man who had fuelled every nighttime fantasy she’d had for the past three years. If she’d told Dad that, he would’ve freaked out. She could hear his words now: “He’s twice your age! He’s my age! What’s wrong with you?” No, it was much better to pretend that she didn’t know or care who Clint was, much better to pretend that she was just a young woman who did not have a freakish obsession with a man she had met once.
The eight-hour drive was peaceful, the traffic was sparse, and the city receded behind them to be replaced with long stretches of country. Lake Sapphire was located at the end of a lane bordered by trees. It was the kind of lane you would find in a fairytale, with a fairytale location at the end of it. The lake was about half a mile long, and was named for sapphires because it glittered when the light hit it. Around the lake, around thirty lodges sat, wooden buildings that were reminiscent of the first settlers. The first time Rebecca had seen it, she had asked Dad if they were in an Amish village. It was quaint in the extreme.
They parked up and approached the main desk.
“Mr. Langdon?” the receptionist said.
“Yes?” Dad replied, clearly surprised that this woman knew his name.
“Mr. Hunter has already arrived. He has already collected the keys. You can go on through.”
He has already arrived.
The words echoed in Rebecca’s ears.
She didn’t know how she would react until it happened. Her heart began to drum loudly in her chest, so loudly that the noise moved to her ears and blocked out even her inner-
monologue. She couldn’t think of anything except the image of his bare chest, his tight muscles, his pale blue eyes. She followed Dad toward the lodge with a feeling of unreality. She could hardly believe this was happening now that it truly was. She could hardly believe that soon she would come face to face once again with the man for whom she had rubbed her clit night after night, the man no other man compared to in her mind.
Dad opened the front door to the lodge, filling the entrance with orange setting sunlight, and walked into the hallway. Rebecca followed, her footsteps sounding loud, her heartbeat even louder. Her tongue felt big in her mouth. She hoped she didn’t have to talk. She knew she would fail: knew she would garble her words.
The hallway led to a double to staircase which led to the rooms. Rebecca followed Dad to the bottom of the staircase, and then Dad let out a laugh. Rebecca looked up. There, standing at the top of the staircase, was Clint Hunter. He returned Dad’s laugh. “So, you made it,” he said, in his calm, implacable voice.
“We made it,” Dad agreed. “Why are you here so soon?”
“I couldn’t stand the city for another second,” he said. “I needed to relax, and this seemed like the best place to do it.”
“Definitely,” Dad said.
Rebecca walked up the stairs, everything trembling: her legs, her hands, her lips. She was genuinely shocked that they couldn’t hear her heartbeat, that they couldn’t sense how nervous and – yes – how excited she was. The stairs seemed like a mountain, and when she reached the top the effort of forcing herself to smile had exhausted her. Clint smiled at her, and she returned the smile by reflex. “Hello, Rebecca,” he said.
“Hello, Clint,” Rebecca replied.
Dad looked at the two of them, forehead creasing. Rebecca could plainly read the thought. She knew her Dad well enough for that: When did you two meet? Panic started to consume her. She frantically searched her mind for an excuse that would make sense, for an excuse that would soothe Dad’s creased forehead.
“It’s good to finally meet you,” Clint said, extending his hand. His hand betrayed no sign that he was nervous in the slightest. It was steady, like the rest of him.
Rebecca mechanically extended her hand, and they shook. “Nice to meet you, too,” she muttered.
She wanted to hold onto his hand for longer, wanted to feel his powerful grip, but then he let go and she was glad. If he hadn’t let go, she would stayed like that for as long as she was able.
“I’m beat,” Dad said. “How about we get some sleep, and start this break tomorrow.”
“That sounds good to me,” Rebecca said quickly, hurrying her words out.
Before Dad or Clint could say anything, he pushed passed them and paced to her bedroom. She closed the door behind her, sat on the edge of her bed, and panted uncontrollably. She gripped the frame and focused on slowing her breaths. After around ten minutes, her breaths slowed, and she fell back onto the bed.
This is going to be one hell of a trip, she thought, as her eyes closed in exhaustion.
*****
She woke the next day to a knock at her door. Naturally, she thought it Dad. When they came to Lake Sapphire, Dad would often knock on her door early in the morning, and then they would take a couple of books and relax by the lake. Sometimes they would walk through the woods that bordered the lake, simply enjoying the pleasure of being in nature, the trees and the wind and the squirrels and everything that was anti-city. She hopped up from bed, momentarily forgetting that he was even here, and then opened the door.
Instead of Dad, Clint smiled at her. “Hello,” he said.
“Uh, hello,” Rebecca replied.
As though her mind wanted to pick the worst possible moment, it was then that she remembered her dream from last night. She and Clint had been in the locker room, as they often were in Rebecca’s dreams, and Rebecca had fallen to her back and opened her legs and waited, and then Clint had climbed atop her, and thrust . . .
His eyes looked her up and down. She realized she was wearing a tank top without a bra and shorts. She could have covered up, could have closed to the door to block his view, could have moved away from him, but she did none of these things. Instead, she stepped away from the door completely, giving him a better view. She knew it was wrong, she knew he was too old for her, but her lust didn’t care about that. All her lust cared about was letting this sexy older man have a look at her. She could see from the look in his eyes, from the way he bit his lip, that he wanted her. And it thrilled her as nothing else had thrilled her before, except two years ago when she had first met this man.
“Come for a walk with me,” he said.
“You and Dad?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Just me. Your dad has gone into town for the morning.”
That made sense. He often did that when they came to Lake Sapphire. He liked to look for souvenirs for his colleagues. Normally, he would be getting a souvenir for his billionaire boss, too, but seeing as the billionaire boss was here this weekend, Rebecca doubted that he would need to.
“Just me and you?” she asked, her mouth dry.
“Just me and you,” he agreed. “You sound like that scares you.”
“Scares me?” she said, smiling playfully. “You think you scare me?”
“Yes,” he said calmly. “I saw how you looked at me yesterday. You’re frightened of me. I just can’t work out why.”
Because I’m standing face to face with a man I’ve masturbated over for two goddam years!
“I’m afraid I’ll have to keep you in suspense.”
He smiled at that, and their eyes met for a moment. Then, suddenly, he stepped forward. He reached out to touch her, and Rebecca did not even think about stepping away. There was no way she was going to leave this hunky, ripped, older man hanging like that. Instead, she stepped forward. All her mad dreams whirled through her head with the power of a tornado, but she pushed them away. She didn’t need the dream right now; something was happening for real. His hand moved to her leg. He grabbed it, hard.
“Fuck,” he said.
“What are you doing?” Rebecca moaned, but she didn’t step away. Instead, she stepped even closer. “You shouldn’t be doing that.”
“Tell me to stop, then,” he said.
He looked at her with a challenge in her eyes. She should have told him to stop. She knew that. He was her dad’s boss. It was wrong. And yet his hand was warm and strong on her leg, and she could feel the power of it. If he wanted to, he could crush her leg, easily. That shouldn’t have turned her on, but it did. She looked down at her thigh, pressed in his hand, and then up into his eyes. They were wide, wolf-like, almost mad. She looked from his face to his shorts. His cock lifted the front of his shorts like a tent-pole lifting a tent.
“This is wrong,” she said.
She smiled a cocky, arrogant smile. On a man her own age – a boy her own age – that smile would have been off-putting, but on Clint Hunter, it was hot as the dogs of hell. He let go of her leg, and stepped back. Rebecca let out a long-held breath, though even she didn’t know if it was in relief or disappointment. “Come for a walk with me,” he said.
The feeling of his hand was still fresh on her skin. The impression his hand had left on her still tingled on the surface of her skin. She felt her upper teeth nibble her lower lip, felt her body respond to him. Her pussy ached, her clit burning. She nodded. “Okay,” she muttered. “Okay, fine. Just give me a minute.”
She returned to her bedroom, threw on a shirt, pulled on her sneakers, changed into some outside shorts, and joined Clint at the door. He looked up and down her body openly. Damn, when he looks at me like that I could die, she thought. Just . . . damn.
She followed him down the stairs, neither of them saying anything, and then out of the front door. She kept thinking she heard Dad’s voice, that Dad would come running back toward the lodge, red-faced and furious, but he didn’t. And even if he did see them, there was no reason for him to react badly. They weren’t
technically doing anything wrong. They were just taking a calm, harmless walk through the woods.
No, she thought wryly. We’re not doing anything wrong at all.
*****
If somebody had told Rebecca a few days ago that she’d be walking past Lake Sapphire to the woods with him, with the man who she had touched, kissed, made love to in her mind more times than she could count, she would have laughed. The idea was absurd. Rebecca Langdon didn’t do things like that. Rebecca Langdon was a bookworm, a hard worker, a geek, somebody who had gone through college without ever once having sex. Rebecca Langdon was, most of all, a twenty-one-year-old virgin. Usually, her virginity was not a big, looming thing in her mind. Usually, she did not think about it too much. It was just a fact, like the color of the sky or the fact that the sun rose and set. It did not affect her. She was just a virgin; that was no big deal.
But today was not a usual day, and she felt her virginity like a stabbing in her chest. Each time Clint looked at her, each time he tilted his head and smiled that arrogant smile, she felt her virginity like something physical. She couldn’t deny it anymore. She wanted to do thing to this man, and to let this man do things to her, but she did not know if she was capable. The furthest she had ever gone with a man was a nervous kiss.
The lake receded behind them as they walked further into the woods, and soon the trees blocked their pathway, and it felt like they were the only two people on the planet. Rebecca looked across at him, and he returned her gaze.
“You seem nervous,” he said, as they stepped over a fallen log. “Do I make you nervous?”
“No,” she lied. “I’m not nervous. You’re not as good at reading me as you think.”
“Hmm, maybe,” he said, as they walked deeper and deeper into the woods. “But I’m not sure. I read your face pretty clearly the first time we met. You wanted me. I could tell.”
Rebecca stumbled on a root, waved her arms, and then regained her balance. She laughed as a person will always laugh when they trip and want to show that they’re not taking it too seriously. Damn him, she thought, kicking the root, as though it was its fault. Damn him and his magical ability to read me. “You don’t even know me,” she said. “We met once for, like, what? Two minutes? And on the basis of that you think you can suddenly read me. I don’t think so.”
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