Sweet Dreams

Cassidy stopped and leaned against the doorframe, rubbing her eyes under her glasses. Some small sound had roused her from her bed, something in the kitchen or maybe the living room beyond. She flicked on the light over the stove, illumination spilling into the two rooms and identifying the source of the sound.

Why is there a man sitting on my couch?

she asked herself.

And why of all people is it Kyle?

She felt vaguely frumpy in her flannel nightgown and mussed hair. She knew she'd only laid down a couple of hours ago, falling asleep to thoughts of Kyle, wondering how he was doing in the new job. She felt a blush start as she remembered what else she'd been thinking about and hastily smothered the more lascivious memories.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself upright and headed toward the occupied couch. "I'm dreaming, right?"

Kyle looked up at her and smiled. "Of course you are. How else would I be in your house at two o'clock in the morning? Hello, gorgeous."

"Yeah, whatever." She smiled not just to remove any sting from her words, but because the warmth in his voice always got to her. She ran a hand through her hair, dragging the mass over her shoulder and hopefully into some semblance of order. "So why are you here? I mean, not that I mind dreaming about you in the least, but ... yeah."

Kyle shook his head with a chuckle. "You were thinking about me, weren't you? So here I am."

Oh, you have no idea.

She sat down on the couch beside him.

Okay, being a dream-person, you might actually have a pretty accurate idea.

She felt the blush starting again and tried to hide it by turning away from him slightly as she snuggled up against his shoulder. She pulled his arm down over her and leaned back against it.

" Yep, so here you are." She stroked his arm, wondering why her mind had decided to drag her into the living room instead of planting him in her bed.

Well,

she thought,

I'll take what I can get.

She laughed softly at the idea of evaluating a dream while it was occurring.

"What? You think I should have shown up in your bed?" He reached up and ran his fingers down her cheek.

She rubbed her head against his shoulder. "Well, you could have. But I like this just as much, I think." She hugged his arm. "I like the idea of you holding me."

"So I see."

What is it he's always telling me? "I had a conversation with you in my head"? I guess turn-about is fair play, tonight.

"I know, I'm a terrible person. At least I'm keeping all this in my head, right?" She tucked her feet up under the flannel of her gown. "I wish you knew how many times I've found myself sitting right here lately, wishing you were sitting right there so I could lean on you."

"Can you not lean on Nate?"

"See why I'm a terrible person? I can -- and I do, when he's home. Nate is awesome and does his best to take care of me. But I dream about you more now than I've ever dreamed about Nate. Daydreams, too."

"Wow, you really are terrible. Want me to spank you for it?"

She looked around at him and growled. "Are you sure you want to try that?"

He laughed and hugged her close. "Sure, but only when you are interested. So what are you interested in right now?"

"Being able to lean on you is good. Having you hold me is excellent." She let her gaze roam the mostly-dark living room, wishing she'd done more tidying up before collapsing into bed. "Falling asleep with you beside me is rapidly developing a certain fascination. Fixing your breakfast and coffee so you can head for work is beginning to seem like a wonderful idea." She felt a tear slide down out of one eye. "But I don't want to give up Nate and I really doubt I could steal you away from Jen. I just ... why do I feel this way? This is crazy."

Beside her, Kyle shifted so that she was leaned more against his chest than his side and put his other arm around her. After several minutes of him just silently holding her, she raised one of his hands to her lips and kissed it. "You are supposed to reassure me or something."

In answer, he moved his hands to her shoulders and began gently rubbing them. She let out a soft sigh of pleasure.

Am I psychoanalyzing myself in a dream? I think I'm just projecting my desires onto this dream-Kyle. Of course, he's never judged me -- at least, not out loud. And this massaging is definitely reassuring. But I want him to understand -- and to know that he understands -- how much I want him, even though I can't ever have him.

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

He kissed the top of her head and it felt like she had exploded. "This is your conversation, babe. So far, you've told me you want me to hold you -- which I was doing -- and to reassure you. A shoulder-rub is one of my ways I reassure people -- especially beautiful women who are basically sitting in my lap, facing away from me where I can't make out with them easily." He kissed the side of her neck and she felt her blood come to a slow boil.

Slowly, she tipped her head to the side, leaving more of her neck exposed. Obligingly, he began covering the area with slow, small kisses. One hand slid down her arm to wrap around her waist and hold her against him. The other slid upward along the opposite side of her neck to work through her hair and cup her head. She could feel her heart pounding as the touches of his hands and lips stirred her. She closed her eyes and let her breath out in a shuddering sigh.

"What was that, love?"

"Just thinking this is much better than starting the dream out with you in my bed already."

He lightly nipped her ear. "Glad you approve, gorgeous."

She made a noise partway between a sniff and a laugh. "How can you call me that? I look terrible, my hair's a wreck, I'm in my scary-face glasses, you caught me in my oldest favorite-but-worn-out gown, I'm fat and out of shape and nowhere as sleek as Jen..."

He laid his hand lightly across her lips, stifling her protest as he nuzzled her neck. "I can call you that because you are." He ran his hands up and down her arms. "This outside part changes, depending on how you use it, what you do to it, and how old it gets." Gently, he laid a hand between her breasts. "What is in here, though, shines through all that. Okay, and yes, I remember how you looked way back then and I can see how you could look in the future." He wrapped both arms around her waist, holding her against him. "So, really, it's fairly easy to call you gorgeous."

She laid her head back on his chest and put her hands over his, smiling as she simply leaned on him.

Dreams are good,

she thought.

Especially since I know that's exactly what he would tell me.

She reached up behind her head to stroke his face, making a soft "mmm" when he turned and kissed the palm of her hand.

"See? I could go to sleep so easily in your arms," she said.

He tickled her belly with his fingertips. "Then go right ahead."

She twisted to look around at him, lit by the dim glow from the kitchen. "I'd rather make out first."

He kissed her nose, smiling. "Then go right ahead."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You are entirely too accommodating, you know."

He licked her nose, eliciting a squeal from her. "I know, but this is your dream, love. If you want to fall asleep on me, I'm here for you. If you want to make out, well, I won't complain a bit."

She settled back against him, content for the moment. "Do you remember the last time you kissed me?"

"I do, it was about a year ago at the show."

She smiled, remembering. "I wasn't expecting that. I almost messed up and kissed you back properly, right in front of Jen. What about the time before that?"

"Hm, that would have been when I took you home that night after you broke up with me."

"Yeah." She squeezed his hands. "Did it hurt? Kissing me goodnight like that?"

"Some, but I tried to deliberately remember it, just in case it was the last one we ever shared."

"I know you remember our first one. You've written about it."

"So I have. You know, that is one of two kisses I remember in full, glorious detail."

She looked around at him. "The other being the first time you kissed Jen, I hope?"

"It's our wedding kiss, actually. I can't remember the first time Jen and I kissed. I remember a time before we'd started truly dating when I drove her home from class. I thought she was going to kiss me when I dropped her off." He laughed, a soft rumble behind her head. "I was actually afraid she would! I wasn't ready for that, yet."

She squeezed his arms again and snuggled back against his chest. "She's so lucky."

"You'd have ended up hating me, babe."

She turned around so that she was sitting crossways in his lap, looking him in the eye. "Jen doesn't and you guys have been married twenty years. Why would I? Am I more finicky than her? Harder to deal with?"

"Because I tell myself that so it doesn't hurt." He smiled and cupped her face with his hand. "We are where we are. And while I love playing what-ifs and daydreaming about a life with you, it can hurt. So ... sometimes I lie to myself."

"Hm. Like me saying I remember you better than you really were, so that during those dark, lonely nights -" she looked around and held her hands out "- when I play what-ifs and dream about you, about kissing you, about...about other things, I don't end up thinking I would have been better off somehow and hating someone who loves me."

He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "Exactly. Tough line to walk, isn't it?"

She snuggled up against him. "Shut up and hold me, dream-person." She put her hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating, slow and steady. After a few minutes, she sat up and looked him in the eye. Gorgeous green eyes that capture me so easily.

"Okay, this is my dream and I expect certain things from my dreams. The two biggest things I demand are wish-fulfillment and a lack of guilt." She turned to straddle his legs and splayed her hands out on his chest, looking him over. "And I have some very definite wishes with your name on them, Kyle."

He ran his hands up her back, making the flannel of her gown shift and making her shiver. "Wherever shall I start in fulfilling your wishes, ma'am?"

Cassidy leaned forward and kissed him on the lips, then sat back. "You can start by kissing me like I'm the only woman in the world."

He slid one hand further up to cradle the back of her head while the other drifted down to her waist. "I thought you already were, sweetheart." His hands gently pulled her closer to him, eyes locked on hers, until only a tiny fraction of an inch separated their lips. "May I?"

She felt like she was about to melt and explode, all at once. "Please."

As their lips touched again, her arms shuddered and collapsed to leave her sprawled on his chest, his hand twined in her hair. He rolled them so that she was mostly against the back of the couch, lying along his left side. He ran his fingers through the length of her hair, letting his hand stop on her hip.

She floated for a long time, just kissing him -- being kissed by him. Lips, eyelids, cheeks, ears, neck, throat ... she moved to hover over him, steering his kisses by providing places to kiss. As he nuzzled the hollow of her throat, she sighed happily.

She sat back, looking at him intently.

Can I do this? Can I let myself dream about surrendering -- no, demanding from him that he love me? Can I do it without guilt?

She pulled the dark green shirt out of his jeans, keeping her eyes on his as she slid it over his head. Slowly, she let her eyes trace the lines of his chest. Her hands flowed along his arms and she marveled at his body. She knew she didn't want him to be perfect, but she knew he'd been working out, so her dream-Kyle had a mix of defined muscles and soft fat.

I wonder if he thinks of me when he works out. How much of his dedication is due to wanting to drive me crazy? And how much of me wants him to want me enough to try and impress me?

She spent a small eternity kissing his bared chest and stomach, teasing his flesh with teeth, tongue, lips, nails. She lost herself in the sounds of his pleasure until her own needs grew too great to be ignored. Sitting back, she pulled her nightgown over her head. His hands and mouth knew exactly where to go.

He better, since this is my dream,

she thought. The feeling of sheer

rightness

of him holding her again, kissing her again, after so many lost years made a laugh bubble up. Memories of nights spent together, making out until the early morning came flooding back. Even if it hadn't been a dream, he would have known just exactly how to please her. He always had, and that was part of the bitterness -- she'd given away someone who'd wanted to please her, not someone who expected her to please them.

She took his head in her hands, pointing his face up at hers. "Make love to me, Kyle. Please."

He smiled at her. "May I carry you to your bed like a gentleman or should we just abandon all pretense of reason right here on the couch?"

She knew all too well how much she weighed and she doubted he would be able to pick her up. Apparently, her thoughts showed in a marquee on her face, because he laughed. "You keep reminding me this is a dream, love. That means I can carry you."

And so he did -- her arms wrapped around his neck, gazing up at him as he carefully threaded them through the house with what seemed to be an effortless grace. Once on the bed, he began covering her with more kisses from head to toe until she was soaked and squirming with need. When he finally slid out of his jeans and into her, she all but screamed as the pent-up energy of their foreplay released in a sudden orgasm.

Laughing, he nuzzled her neck. "I thought the guy was supposed to be the short-fused one."

Holding him tightly to her, she kissed his cheek. "That's how deeply you affect me, Kyle." Slowly, she relaxed and let go of him. "Do you think it would be like that every day?"

"Probably not. Then you'd hate me for disappointing you." He started moving slowly.

She moaned in pleasure and dug her nails into the curve of his buttocks. "Yes, I would. For making it so amazingly awesome one time and then so mundane the next." She whimpered in pleasure and whispered, "I would, I'd hate you even as I hoped the next time would be mind-blowing."

She lost track of everything, feeling nothing but him, his body, and his movements as he made love to her, erasing twenty-something years of loss as she floated on a cloud of bliss. Finally, her world narrowed to the superheated explosion building inside her, below her belly and between her legs. When she came, she cried -- not from guilt, but from finally releasing the need.

Soft, warm lips kissed away the tears even as his arms held their bodies together. She twined her arms around him, running her fingers through his hair.

"I love you, Kyle."

"Finally."

She smiled, eyes still closed. "Finally. But only because I'm dreaming."

** **

Groggily, she flailed at the alarm's snooze bar, wincing at the nip of cold air on her bare arm. She looked down, a slight frown on her face. She was naked. The details of the dream came back in a rush, overwhelming her with a bittersweet pang of desire and hopelessness. She'd been thinking about Kyle when she'd gone to bed and then dreamed about having the man she could never touch. The dream had heated her up enough that she'd shed her gown, something that happened only rarely. Cassidy laid back on her pillows, pulling the blankets up to her chin with a tiny smile as she wondered if he ever dreamed of making love to her.

Her smile grew as the dream replayed itself in her mind, taking her body back through the slow arousal. There was something very erotic about reliving such a vivid dream that watching porn couldn't quite capture. She laughed as she remembered her brazenness at straddling him, pulling the dark green button-up shirt off over his head, telling him that since this was her dream, she intended to take what she wanted from him without feeling guilty. If reality was half as good as her dream, then Jen was indeed a very lucky woman...

She blinked in consternation. He'd been wearing a green shirt, she recalled it clearly -- a dark green shirt that had complimented his eyes, boring into hers as their bodies melded together.

Except...

She couldn't remember ever dreaming in color before.