Passionate Pleasures by Bertrice Small Page B

about him and urged him on until they were both satisfied for a brief time once again. After they had coupled four times he fell into a sleep. His features softened in his slumber, and Kathryn stared, shocked as she gazed closely at the barbarian for the first time. The handsome face beneath the rough stubble of his beard was that of Timothy Blair. No wonder the blue eyes had seemed so familiar.
    “Fantasy end!” she cried out. What the hell was going on with her? She grabbed the remote and pressed B.
    “I’ve brought a friend, Lady St. John,” Porthos said as he drew another musketeer forward. “This is my friend, Timon, of the queen’s personal guard.”
    Kathryn stared in horror. It was Timothy Blair again! “Fantasy end!” she shouted, sitting back up in her bed and throwing the remote into the drawer of her bedside table.
    What was going on? Why was Timothy Blair showing up in her fantasies? She wasn’t interested in the man. She barely knew him. She didn’t want to know him. This was simply terrible. Every time he came to the library he stopped in to say hello. She even saw him in the village now and again. After tonight she could never look the man in the eye again. A barbarian? He wasn’t a barbarian, but he certainly had been in her fantasy.
    And God, she had loved every minute of it! But the barbarian Temur wasn’t the real Timothy Blair. What was making her put him into her fantasies?
    Kathryn tried to sleep, but she couldn’t. She considered deleting this new fantasy from her remote, but she couldn’t do that either. She hadn’t had so much sexual excitement and fun in ages. Get ahold of yourself, old girl, she chided herself. You can put a different face on your barbarian. Who is the actor you like? The one who starred in The Scorpion King. The Rock. Dwayne something. Yes. He would be perfect. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep. Finally she dozed, but the next day was awful.
    “You look like hell,” Mavis said, bringing her in her morning cup of coffee.
    “Thanks,” Kathryn said. “I don’t feel much better than I look.”
    “What’s the matter?” Mavis sat down.
    “New fantasy last night. I deleted Rapunzel. I decided a barbarian-and-slave-girl scenario would be a good one. And it was, until I realized the barbarian looked like you know who. So I ended the fantasy, and switched to my Three Musketeers, and guess what. Porthos had brought a friend he said was in the queen’s guard. Guess who it was. I had to end that program too. How can this be happening, Mavis?”
    “I’ve already told you how it’s happening, sweetie,” Mavis said. “Look, why don’t you come to Sunday dinner at my house this week? I’ll invite Mr. Blair too. Maybe if you actually get to know him you can get past your subconscious.”
    “What if Hallock finds out?” Kathryn St. John asked.
    “You’re having Sunday dinner at your best friend’s house, Kathy. Even your stuffy brother can’t object to that.”
    “I don’t know if I can even look Mr. Blair in the face,” Kathryn said. “The barbarian and I really went at it big-time.”
    Mavis giggled. “A St. John afraid?” she said mischievously.
    “I am not afraid, but I’m going to be unable to stop wondering if his dick is as big as the barbarian’s. The guy was massive, and I really enjoyed it. I couldn’t delete the new program. But I’ll try and put a different face on my barbarian next time.”
    “I can’t help but wonder what Mr. Blair would think if he knew about The Channel, and what you’re doing with him there,” Mavis chuckled.
    “Well, he doesn’t know, and he’ll never know,” Kathryn St. John said. “I just have to get past knowing it if I’m not going to behave like a blithering idiot on Sunday.”
    “You’ll do fine, sweetie. I’ll do that stuffed loin of pork you like with apricots,” Mavis said soothingly. “We’re empty nesters. It will just be grown-ups. We’ll eat, we’ll drink good wine, and get to