“All the fucking time,” I moan and resume gliding my palm up and down. “Every minute of the day.” She licks her lips again, eyes flicking to the motion briefly. “I want to do that.” “Do what?” I grunt, slowing down before I come. I know this isn’t a dream I conjured up, but I’m still afraid to wake up and it being one. I can’t believe she’s here, that she was thinking what I was thinking. Could this mean that she might feel what I feel? I don’t ask, but I’ll keep wondering it.
