It was one of those dreams where I knew the instant it started that I was dreaming, but couldn't force myself to wake up or change the story.
I was in a big city, one I recognized but could not name, walking quickly down a busy sidewalk canyoned by silver skyscrapers. The wind blustered all around me, kicking up skirts and tossing long hair in all directions, but it missed me. Or maybe in my determination to reach my destination, it avoided me on purpose. I wore a business suit: black with a thin grey pinstripe, a butterfly-collared raspberry top open to the single button of my blazer, the skirt pencil thin and knee length yet split high in the back so I could take long strides in my black stilettos.
In the real part of my mind, I recognized the suit was a bit more risquΓ© than I usually wore. But I also knew that I looked damn good in it. My blond hair was pulled back in a demure French twist in direct contrast to the sexy suit. Without seeing them, I knew my eyes were lined with smoky grey and a light dusting of blush enhanced my high cheekbones. Glossy lipstick the same hue as my shirt shone on my lips and tasted of strawberry when I inhaled.
My pace was fast, my long legs stretching far in that split skirt, my shoulders thrown back in haughty dominance as the crowds before me parted like the Red Sea at my appearance. The wind continued to whip around me but I never felt its cool touch.
With military precision I pivoted into a large hotel. The doorman pulled open the heavy glass portal with a bow that I regally ignored. The lobby inside was cool marble and clean lines, softened here and there by cherry blossoms clinging to potted trees and pink orchids climbing out of clear vases. Uniformed personnel silently genuflected as my heels echoed sharply throughout the entrance.
He stood near the mahogany elevator, waiting patiently for my arrival. The doors whispered open as I neared, and immediately closed after we entered the car. As it began to rise he leaned close as though to kiss me, but a single raised eyebrow and sideways glance pushed him back into the corner.
The doors slid open and I stepped into the hallway, confident he would follow. The light gold carpet swallowed my footsteps and flowed for miles before me. The hall was unending, a tunnel of bright yellow floor and ceiling, the walls papered in textured fabric swirling yellow and cream. The doors to the rooms were painted the most pure, sinful red I had ever encountered.
I stopped at the third door and waited for him to push it open for me. We entered the room and the door shut with a heavy click.
"Take off my blazer," I ordered.
He reached out with one large hand and slid the single button free. I didn't move as he stepped behind me and gently pulled the jacket down my arms. From the corner of my eye, I saw it sail through the air and land on a couch.
"Unbutton my shirt."
Two hands circled my ribs from behind and released each small fastening.
In the back of mind, I wondered why I wasn't aroused, but it didn't seem overly important.