Her Fantasy
but in a good way—a way that engaged her restless libido and breathed a silent promise of fulfillment to it. “I don’t understand.”
He still wore an easy smile. “You had a lighthearted discussion about it with Lorie and Jean, a year or so back, at the office. If I recall correctly, it was stimulated by an article in a woman’s magazine. Details were passed around.” He paused, flexing his broad shoulders as if he were limbering up. Why did that action make her legs feel weak? “It was all very good-natured. I think you called the idea of two willing lovers ‘totally irresistible.’”
Anya recalled the conversation, but his reaction to it astonished her. He wanted to know about her fantasies, why? Her cheeks flushed.
Winking, he sighed softly. “Oh, Anya Reid, you look so adorable when you’re embarrassed.”
“I’ll have words with Lorie.”
“Ah, you were overheard, Lorie wasn’t the culprit. Besides, what’s wrong with being a sexually adventurous lover?” He didn’t let her look away when he asked that. “You are a sexually adventurous lover, aren’t you, Anya?”
Only in my dreams, she thought to herself. Warren didn’t look as if he were talking about dreams. “I’m not answering that on the grounds I might incriminate myself.” Was this his secret, the mystery behind the enigmatic man she wanted so much—he was sexually adventurous and kinky sex was his thing? “Are you seriously asking me if I’d like a threesome?”
“In theory, yes.” His eyes twinkled with humor, and desire.
“In theory, huh? I suppose this threesome of yours would involve two women.”
“Not necessarily. It depends on the aim, and the mix, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t know, does it?”
“We were talking about your fantasy.”
She stared at him, because she couldn’t quite believe he had listened to office chatter and that he had stored the information away. It was flattering, but it also made her very curious about his sexuality and his desires. “Tell me, why would a man want to share his woman? In theory, of course.”
Discussing it “in theory” did seem to take the pressure off, marginally. The fact it was a superficial disclaimer was implied in his tone. Hers, too, if she were honest. He’d captured her interest long ago, and now she felt it being drawn down on to a much deeper level. It keyed into that part of her sexuality that burgeoned in response to him. Was he into playing sex games and making fantasies real? Could be. Warren was the sort of man who didn’t do anything by halves. How would that affect the potential relationship he’d suggested, when he’d asked her out on a date? The questions flitted around her mind, making her edgy with curiosity and arousal.
“Well, now,” he responded, relaxing back in his chair. “I could say that you look like the sort of woman who could handle two men. Sensual, feminine, lush.” The lazy smile that played around the edges of his mouth tempered the directness in his manner. It was a skill he had, but she never found it so intimately focused on her before and it set her alight.
He watched her closely, as if monitoring her reaction to his words. “Or I could say I like to watch the woman I want being pleasured by another man, so that I can learn what works best for her, sexually.”
Christ, he really was serious. Anya instinctively moved her hand to her cleavage and fidgeted with the fabric of her dress. His stare was so weighted, so insinuating. She had to silently instruct herself to breathe. Eventually, she managed to respond. “You’re a very direct man.”
Warren reached for her fingers, where they were wrapped around the stem of her wineglass, and teased over them, gently. The simple touch sent her into a fever of longing. She stared down at his hand, amazed at how the slight contact could cause such havoc inside of her.
“I’m sorry. Have I been too direct?”
“No,” she responded quickly, breathlessly, and she meant it, even though it felt as if Warren were detonating a bomb here. “I like

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