‘You seem like a very trustworthy person,’ he said lightly. On thinking about it, though, she really did. Deanna just seemed so open, from the moment she sent him that first email, commenting on a story he’d written, he’d felt absolutely certain that he could trust her. He’d never even had the nerve to exchange pictures with a girl online before, and within two weeks, not only had she gotten him to do that, he’d given her his phone number, his real name, and agreed to attend a convention with her in a few months. And all without her even using…he blushed, even though there was nobody else in the room. ‘Thank you,’ she said, just a little bit shyly. ‘So, we were talking about hypnosis?’ ‘Um…yeah.’ John leaned back into his pillow, feeling more than a little shy himself. ‘I mean, I know it works. I’ve done it over text, and I’ve listened to recordings, but I don’t think that’s really quite the same.’ ‘Have you heard any of my recordings?’ Deanna asked. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I didn’t know. She had all she could do sometimes to stay in bed and not try to beat them up the path. When he finally did come, she thought it was a dream as she had also dreamed many times the sound of wheels on the winding drive. Her own body ached as consciousness became clear and she did indeed hear the mad dash scuffling up the path to meet him. She turned and stretched luxuriantly, blissful in the moment. Surely she had known all along that he’d be home soon, hadn’t she? Her hands moved lightly along the flatness of her warm belly and passed up over her nipples as she thought of where he’d been. The bars, the parties with the painted girls- dresses tight- eyes and mouths spilling promises and lies. She ached to feel him inside her, his liquor tainted breath on her neck, and felt unable to endure the time it took for him to walk the woods path to the house. Her hands slid down from her belly and across the soft rise of neatly trimmed hair. Each movement of her fingers sending pulses of.
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