That Dratted Affair with the Dream Engine (3 page)

My
eyes were wide. "
No...
" I
breathed.

"Yes," he
murmured. He was hard again. His cock pressed against my entrance,
and I was already ready for him. It stifled every protest I'd had.
I simply...wanted him. "Think of all the wonderful fun we shall
have, my sweet. My wife."

He lowered his
mouth to kiss me.

I came to. It
was with a dry mouth, an aching back, and stiff limbs. My head was
filled with cotton, and when I attempted to move, everything tipped
and spun. I felt my stomach leap up against the back of my throat
and struggled to hold it down as I rocked forward.

"Jeremy!" A
body pressed against mine, slight and smelling of lavender. A
slender arm hugged my shoulders.

I looked up
and opened my eyes. "Annette?" It was her, dark curls framing her
face. I struggled to make sense of my vision, of my
world.

"It was just a
dream, sweetheart." She kissed my damp forehead. Her eyes, when I
met them, were clouded with concern. She said, "I was beginning to
worry. When the recording ended and Mr. Foster disconnected us, we
couldn't wake you. Are you all right?"

The stiff
chair was real underneath me, its wooden armrests solid underneath
my palms. My stomach had dropped back down to its proper place in
my abdomen. I was breathing. My cock was curiously sore, and I was
embarrassed to detect a sticky dampness in my trousers. But I was
male. I was myself.

"Annette," I
said, and my voice sounded so deep, so low in my throat. I licked
my lips. I said, "Annette, no more surprises."

Her lips
pursed into an innocent bow, and her brows knitted so delicately.
"No, dear. Of course not..." she said, and kissed me. As she did,
her hand touched my chest and brushed idly over my nipple.
"...husband."

###

About the
author:

Christine Danse is a native Floridian,
a rather rare species of hominid with an aversion to the sun and a
love of air conditioning. She has been writing stories of fantasy
and the paranormal since she was old enough to hold a pen, and she
has been telling them even longer. She is particularly fond of
shape-shifters and strange steampunk, although she has yet to write
a story that involves both. (The excitement might cause her to
spontaneously combust.) She lives in Ft. Lauderdale with her dog,
Bait; her best friend, Rhianna; and the two talking cats from whom
they rent.

Connect with Me
Online:

Twitter:
http://twitter.com/dansedesirable

Smashwords:
http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/christinedanse

My home page:
http://www.christinedanse.com

My Tumblr:
http://whispersfromtrees.tumblr.com