My hand is between my legs, nestled beneath the damp cotton of my underwear, as my body still pulses with the unmistakable aftershocks of a very real orgasm.
Did I really just—did I just have a s*x dream about Bastian? While sleeping in his actual bed? With him right next to me?!
The poor, overworked circuit boards of my brain are still shorting out when something else happens, the only thing that could make this worse.
I hear motion beside me. Stirring. Then a wry, teasing voice:
1: small palate cleanser served between courses.
2: the pause before the next thing happens—except sometimes, the next thing never comes.
The crime: having an extremely vivid s*x dream about the man lying approximately eighteen inches away from me and then finishing while he was right there to witness the w
