“You’re naked,” Brandi said slowly.
Sebastian looked down at himself in mock surprise. “I guess I took my clothes off to shower. That’s usually the way it’s done, isn’t it?”
She carefully licked her lips, her gaze now glued desperately to his. “You’re…awfully big.”
Chuckling, he replied, “Hmm. And I’m not nearly so impressive as I can be.” He’d been relieved to see it was true—he didn’t want to scare her off.
She shook her head. “I wasn’t talking about that. I meant you are just so massive. All over.”
“I know. I was teasing you.” Damn. He couldn’t very well stay unenthusiastic if she continued to stare at him this way. He had to distract himself, so he moved to the sink and grabbed his razor.
As Sebastian went through the familiar motions of shaving, Brandi watched in fascinated silence. He couldn’t help himself any longer—his body stirred with her interest. And she looked absurdly amazed at the sight.
He tried to grin, but failed. He had to believe she would be his soon. Very soon. Or he’d never survive this vacation.
Fantasy
Lori Foster
To Judy Flohr, Carolyn Dietsch and Barb Smith,
dedicated readers and dedicated friends.
Your friendly faces always make a book signing better,
and I can’t tell you how much I enjoy our lunches afterward!
Thank you, ladies.
Dear Reader,
Though not everyone will admit it, we all have fantasies, from the tame to the risqué. Some people get to realize their fantasies, most don’t. But for Brandi Sommers, the heroine in my story, sexy Sebastian Sinclair is determined not only to discover her fantasies but to fulfill them as well. And he does—with great skill and tenderness.
I had so much fun writing this book. I’ve often been told I push the boundaries, both in theme and with my explicit love scenes. Hallelujah! I want to push. Life is real, love is real…fantasies are real. To write about them without total honesty would be to cheat my characters, and my readers.
I hope you’ll enjoy reading Fantasy as much as I enjoyed writing it. I hope all your fantasies come true.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
Bonus Features
CHAPTER ONE
“GOING ONCE…going twice…”
With anticipation thick in the air, the announcer called out, “Sold!”
And Sebastian Sinclair watched as the man just purchased was led off the stage to the sounds of raucous feminine cheers. Soon it would be his turn.
How the hell did I get myself talked into this? he wondered. Wearing a suit, watching huge amounts of money change hands with no consideration of the cost, being the center of attention—he hated it all. It reminded him of his youth and the fact that he had nothing in common with these shallow blue bloods.
Most of all, he hated the idea of being bought like an expensive toy for the amusement of rich women—regardless of the cause.
He seemed to be the only male not thrilled with the prospect of displaying himself. The others, in ages varying from late twenties to early forties, were smiling, flaunting their wares, so to speak, and generally getting into the spirit of the thing. Only one man remained in line before Sebastian now and judging by the brawn of the guy and his rough-whiskered chin, he wouldn’t last long. The women were really going berserk on the macho ones.
Which was probably why the construction workers had on very snug, tattered jeans and T-shirts too tight for men half their size—an adjustment for their female audience, no doubt. There was absolutely no way a man could work comfortably in a shirt that tight.
Likewise, the landscapers wore their work boots and jeans, some of them with no shirts on at all. And the carpenter—he had a heavy tool belt hanging low on his hips. The ensemble was complete with wrenches, a nail pouch, and the largest hammer Sebastian had ever seen, no doubt a pitiful attempt at symbolism. Sebastian shook his head and tried, without much success, to mask his amusement.
The announcer, a woman with a very wide, toothy smile, led a man around the stage by one finger hooked in his belt loop. The audience roared, then roared again when she had him turn, showing him to advantage. The spotlight moved over his backside and feminine shrieks filled the air.
Sebastian wondered if any of these rich people realized the seriousness of the benefit, the purpose the money would serve in assisting abused women. He doubted it. To them, it was a lark, not a humanitarian deed to build shelters and help those in need.
To Sebastian, it was much more personal.
The brawny guy ahead of him bounded onstage, anxious for his turn to titillate the giggling masses, and Sebastian was left with a female attendant, waiting for his cue.
As he’d guessed, the bewhiskered fellow went quickly, the last bid coming on a crescendo of womanly squeals and bawdy jests. The attendant took Sebastian’s arm and directed him forward.
As he reached the center of the stage, hot lighting flooded over him. He stared out at the audience, satisfied with their reckless spending, but thoroughly disgusted by their careless attitudes. None of them gave a thought to where the money would go or how badly it was needed. They were all the same, full of glitz and shine; shallow, frivolous, concentrating only on their own pleasures. He was disdainful of them all.
And then he saw her.
She stood alone, a small dark-haired woman with huge eyes that dominated her face and expressed her fascination. She didn’t smile as he met her stare. She didn’t yell out suggestions or a bid as the other women were doing. She didn’t laugh or joke; she didn’t do anything but watch him. He no longer heard the announcer, no longer felt the heat of the bright lights. His boredom and disinterest seemed to melt away. Her face was upturned, her lips slightly parted, as if in surprise. And he knew—she couldn’t look away. Somehow he held her physically by the connection of their gazes.
Sebastian didn’t dare blink. She seemed awestruck and innocent and he found her utterly irresistible. For some insane reason, because something inside him had stirred and heated at the sight of her, he had no intention of letting her go.
Maybe he wouldn’t berate Shay after all. He just might end up thanking her.
SHE WANTED HIM.
Brandi stood in the middle of the floor, right beneath the stage. The men had been coming and going, none of them overly remarkable to her mind, but then, she wasn’t here to buy a man. She was only attending this benefit to support her sister, Shay. In truth, she avoided gatherings like this one, where the testosterone filled the air so thick you could choke on it. And