Page 96 of Saxon

"What's your biggest unfulfilled fantasy?"

She twists off the water and I grab a towel, help her out of the tub and dry her off first, then myself, and then the floor.

She doesn't answer for a while. "It's stupid."

"If it's your fantasy, it's not stupid. I want to know, so I can make it come true, if possible."

"It's not very sexy."

"I'll be the judge of that."

She shakes her head. "No, really. My biggest unfulfilled fantasy is not sexual."

"I'm even more intrigued, in that case." I pull on my underwear, wishing I had clean ones.

She uses a second towel to squeeze-dry her hair and then flips forward, twists it, and flips upright, creating a turban. I've seen it on women in movies but never watched a woman do one in real life.

She still doesn't answer. "I want to wake up on a Saturday morning and have coffee in bed. I want to make Mickey Mouse pancakes and drench them in real butter and syrup and not think for even a second about how all the carbs and sugar are gonna go straight to my ass. I want to watch cartoons. I want to do all this wearing my hot-AF boyfriend’s oversize white button-down shirt unbuttoned just enough to make my tits look hot."

"Only interjecting real quick to say that it is impossible according to all known laws of physics for your tits to not look hot."

She grins at me. "You're sweet." She slathers lotion on herself, starting at her face and switching lotions for her body. "That's my fantasy. It would be even better if I had friends or family around me for it."

My heart aches, my throat tightens. "Terra…"

"I was so lonely, growing up. Thank god for Em and Tom, and Yates, and even Kaleigh—they've kept me sane. But I still get lonely. Em moved in with Tom a long time ago, and I…" a shrug, as she rests a foot on the pedestal sink, carefully scraping a pink razor up her legs. "I just…I'm a social person. Being alone sucks, and I've just felt so alone for so long." She rinses the razor, slides her palm over her leg, touches up a spot she feels wasn't shaved well enough, and then starts the process over with her other leg, applying lotion or shaving cream or some combo of both and then carefully scraping it away. "I know it's lame. I know you'd probably expect my fantasy to be spit-roasted or something kinky, but it's not."

"Is that a fantasy of yours?"

She glances at me, rinsing and tapping her razor on the sink. "To be spit-roasted? Fuck no. I'm a one-man woman. Nothing about a threesome appeals to me, whether it's with two men or another woman. No thanks. You?"

I laugh. "God, no."

She grins at me. "You've tried it, haven’t you?"

I grin back, sheepish. "Once. When I was working for the Cabal. It was nowhere near as fun as porn makes it seem. Just a lot of work, keeping both of them involved. And honestly, to do it with one of the women being someone I cared about? Someone I was with? Can't imagine it. Not for me, thanks. And sharing a girl with another guy? Even more of a hard pass."

"Well thank god we agree on that." A glance at me. "So. That's my lame fantasy."

"It's not lame, Terra. Not at all. I think it's honestly kind of beautiful."

"You really think so?"

I cup her lovely face in my hands. "I'll never lie to you."

I consider promising to make that fantasy come true the first chance I get, but decide against it—it'll be more fun to surprise her with it.

She cups my crotch as she kisses me, more out of silly affection than any intent. "Go get food. If you stand around being sweet, I'm gonna have to fuck you again, and I have to get cracking on my dress."

"Hey now, don't threaten me with a good time."

She just laughs. "There's a hole-in-the-wall place a few blocks up and over that has amazing bagel breakfast sandwiches. And more coffee—that pot was the last of mine."

An hour later, we've eaten bagel-egg-and-sausage sandwiches, and they are indeed the best I've ever had. The place was more than a little sketchy looking, but I've learned over the years that when a food place is super sketchy looking, the food is either hazardous waste or the best you'll ever have—there is no in-between.

After that, I settle in to watch her work. She seems able to tune me out entirely, working for several hours without even looking at me. This time, she has Alexa play classical music.

The garment takes shape over the course of the day—I grow restless and take a few walks to stretch my legs, as much to make sure we're not being watched as anything.