Quicksilver Dreams(15)
The rest of the night progressed uneventfully, but with closing and cleanup, I wasn’t able to get home until close to three-thirty in the morning. As always, I jumped in the shower for a quick rinse, wanting to get the smell of the club off me. Then I could climb into my nice, sweet-smelling bed with a heartfelt groan for my sore feet, though I still couldn’t fall asleep right away.
My bill-paying ability was weighing on me. My early attempts to soothe myself had been a temporary panacea, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Reggie was going to can my ass. I wondered if Johnny had any extra hours to tide me over between jobs if it came to that, and I pondered buying another industry magazine from the newsstand to see if there were any other positions available. Then I figured I was jumping the gun and needed to calm myself, because really, I’m the best damn assistant Reggie was ever going to have who would actually put up with his mania.
With that final thought in place, I turned out the light and drifted off and back into my erotic dream...
I felt the soft binding on my wrists and ankles, and the large, rough hand was already caressing my rib cage. I couldn’t help a tremulous sigh as butterfly wings carried heat to my thighs.
Is this another dream? I questioned faintly, wanting it to go on and on. It was just like last night—the clarity, the structure, the detail—but was even more amplified. I could feel the weight shift on the mattress between my legs and the same spicy soap reach my nose.
Rough-textured whiskers scraped my breast, and I gasped, arching my back, silently begging for more. Heat sizzled through my body, and I couldn’t get enough. The whiskers rubbed back and forth before firm lips caught my nipple and strong teeth took nibbling bites.
Oh, my God. I can’t... I want to touch you... I moaned.
The torture went on. Heat spiraled out of control, so I was whimpering and straining against the bindings. I wanted to touch this male body that was in my dream with me, but I was frustrated and helpless, which only served to get me hotter, because my will was being controlled by another force. I was helpless against whatever my phantom lover wanted to do to me, and it was getting me completely, desperately aroused. It was all out of my control. There was nothing I could do but feel the pleasure rippling through my body, losing all my inhibitions for my faceless lover.
Chapter Three
It was noon by the time I woke up, and while it took a few minutes to fully appreciate my conscious state, it didn’t take me long to remember that I’d had another...what would I call that...a waking dream? Sleepwalking? But no...I hadn’t actually gone anywhere during the dream.
Whatever it had been, it was leaving me feeling relaxed, if nothing else. I was feeling so good, I decided to head over to the gym, but first I wanted to find Cynthia. There was some girl talk that needed to happen, specifically about the blond Adonis she’d been talking to at the club last night.
After throwing on a pair of short spandex shorts and a sports-bra shirt, I brushed my hair into a ponytail. Spying the can in the door of the refrigerator, I went for the energy drink that could give me wings, wanting the caffeine hit before my workout. Taking a healthy swig, I knocked on Cynthia’s door, ready for an earful on the titillating subject of what the hell happened last night. At the muffled “Come in,” I entered into the most bizarre of situations: Cynthia, in a flustered state of indecision, and her bedroom, in a whirlwind of clothes and chaos.
Whoa, Nelly.
She was attempting to pack a large suitcase, and there was evidence of crying all over her face. I’d only seen her cry, sort of, once. Ever. Her eyes looked puffy and her cheeks were pale despite the heat of the day.
Absolutely distressing.