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Author(s): Ricardo Mejias

Michael has been dreaming of a woman he’s never met before. He knows she can’t be real, but with each morning the dreams linger, always leaving him with the same question—just who is this person? And why can’t he stop thinking about her? She’s a sexual whirlwind of every pent-up desire and fantasy he’s ever had, and she doesn’t seem to be disappearing any time soon.

Then there’s Lisa, a woman who isn’t imagined, who doesn’t disappear in the daylight and who just might be the one. But is it cheating to be with someone while thinking of another? What if the line between night and day blur? Michael’s about to find out his nocturnal visits may have some very real—and deadly—consequences.


“I’ll unbutton your pants and lower the zipper slowly. No, don’t take off your jeans. Not yet. I want to move my hands under your shirt, run my fingers along the curve of your back. You’ll feel my left hand travel across your stomach, my tongue over your neck… That’s right, you can slip out of your jeans now. You feel my fingers rub against the soft silk of your underwear, moving lower to where it’s already wet…”

Michael whispered into the phone with his eyes closed, his words deep and graveled. He sat reclined in bed, the world reduced to the receiver in his right hand and the voice on the other end of it. He listened to the woman’s moans grow louder, each breath heavier and drawn out. He could imagine her with her legs stretched apart over wrinkled sheets. He wondered if she was really naked or if the fantasy they were creating was as fake as the narrative they spun for each other. But the more they talked the less he cared about the truth. In that moment, he wasn’t having a dirty conversation with a stranger. Instead he was with a beautiful woman, and they were the only two people awake in the entire world.

With practiced ease, Michael described each step. His verbal hands moved in slow and steady circles above her clitoris. He imagined the heat between her thighs must feel warm, as if she’d sunbathed under a cloudless summer sky. His ghostly touch wandered playfully along her hips and stomach, stirring the passions until he searched for the one spot that would make her whole body tremble.

“I want you to do exactly as I say.”

“Tell me,” she whispered.

“I’m sliding my fingers inside you now.”

A tremor caught on the end of her voice. He heard a rustling sound as she mimicked his instructions. He knew she was concentrating, likely wondering what it felt like if they were in the same room glued together in bed, sweat kissed and breathing on each other between long, lip-smacking kisses.

He told her to come, and with a sudden release, she muffled her cries over the phone.

“I’ll call you again next week.” Michael hung up before she could reply.

He stared at the ceiling for a few moments, not sure what to feel. Phone sex only made his sexual appetite worse. He was restless, bothered by a strange sensation weighing heavily in his chest. He felt emotionally parched, dehydrated and in need of…what exactly? If he knew what was good for him, he’d stop his search, but Michael was never one to listen to himself.

The woman’s voice was similar to the one from his dreams, hushed and raspy in the way she pronounced her words, but—

It wasn’t the same.

He glanced at the clock radio and cursed. There were still three hours left until he had to get ready for work. He wanted to sleep, to dream of the stranger again. The woman who always seemed to appear when he needed her, who teased him as a cat might tease a mouse—with great care and a devilish intent. He only saw her at night, but during the day he’d try to find her. No one could match the allure this woman had over him. She was the embodiment of lust, a wild manifest of nature—the culmination of every man’s fantasy.

But something was very wrong about these dreams. Though he’d never met this person, she persisted throughout his nocturnal imaginings as if she were some kind of repressed memory. Whoever she was, she offered him everything and asked for nothing in return. Her mouth would go wherever he wanted it to, those crimson lips. Rose petals bleeding with the kind of sexuality that made him melt. She haunted him, begged him to take her. She wanted to feel his muscles tense as he lifted her onto any surface, as long as she could enjoy the weight of his body while he eased into her in agonizingly slow motions. He knew all of this without having to ask, but he could tell she held a secret, and worst of all she was in no rush to let him in on it.

Each night he came closer to touching her. She was only a dream, after all, a figment of his imagination, but he always woke up in a cold sweat, confused and dazed by the overwhelming emotions the dreams produced. No other woman had ever made him feel this way. But she wasn’t real, Michael reasoned.

She couldn’t be. 

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ISBN (Print):
ISBN (Electronic): 978-1-92785-928-5
Genre: Paranormal
Date Published: 02/19/2014
Publisher: Forever More Publishing

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