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    I only lied to protect her, but that's always a piss-poor excuse when all the cards are on the table. But what other choice did I have?  
    Maybe I was selfish. Maybe I deserved it. Maybe I should've done everything differently. Hell, maybe I never should have walked up to her in the first place.
    It was the way she always looked, sitting on that bench. At first she'd be self-conscious, glancing around her, shoulders slightly hunched, willing people not to look at her. But then she'd start to read, and slowly, she'd forget where she was. Her face would light up, and every time I walked past her I had this feeling like I was seeing something special. Something most people were missing. She had such a pretty smile when she thought nobody was looking.
    Once I actually started talking to her, I realized a lot more. She was smart. Whip-smart. Too smart for the temp agency she was working at, and probably too smart for me. I asked her to be my girlfriend anyway, and within a few months she'd moved into my place.  
    From there, things were good. Most of the time, they were great. We dealt with the usual tensions that couples do, but after a while, it seemed like we were both comfortably settled in. Sometimes she seemed a little distant during sex, but she always said everything was okay.
    I should've known. The first time I picked up that book of hers, just morbidly curious and wondering if maybe she'd put a villain in there who was based on me -
    Oh, there was a girl between these pages that I'd never known. Of course authors aren't their characters, or their books, except in this case she was. They had the same name. It was "based on a true story." I was pretty much one hundred percent sure it actually wasn't, but I work in marketing. I'm certainly not going to throw stones.
    Lana was Lissy, down to the way she talked, the thoughts she had, and - I'd bet my life on it - the fantasies. Within a few hours of meeting him, Lana's fantasizing about Damien bending her over the desk. And not just to fuck her. To spank her.  
    Okay, so there's always room for a little playful tap in the bedroom, but that's not what this was. She wanted to be spanked, and spanked hard , as a punishment. As some kind of masochistic sexual release. I know that's a common enough theme in these books, but I guess I didn't realize how commonplace it was in real life until I started looking into it. Damn, but there are a lot of women out there who crave a firm hand.
    And Lissy's one of them. I can tell by the detailed, loving way she writes about it. Her descriptions of the beautiful rope bondage aren't quite as evocative, so I figure that one's a little lower down on her priority list. But Lana loves taking orders. Being made to crawl across the floor, carrying things in her mouth, all the while glaring and yowling and practically spitting at his feet. She's got that love-hate thing down pat. She hates this guy, but she's dripping wet for him.  
    These are Lissy's fantasies. Everything I never knew about her, all the things that ran through her head when she was alone in the tub. Meanwhile, with me, she'd happily roll onto her back for some sweet but generally uninspired missionary position - and hell, it wouldn't surprise me if she was faking it. There's all kinds of things in the back of her mind that I don't know, that I'll never know.
    Why didn't she just tell me?
    I was angry about that for a while, but I guess it makes sense. When your fantasy's for someone to manhandle and punish you, to be in charge, it's hard to negotiate for that. But I could've done it. I would've done anything for her.
    Of course, I realize that's not what she wanted, either. Somebody just appeasing her needs. That's not part of the fantasy. I would've had to want it too, and maybe she was afraid of finding out that I didn't.
    Well, I'll admit that I used to be pretty vanilla. These days, though? I like to think I could show a kinky girl a good time.
    Admittedly, I haven't