Layla
I know I’m in a dream.
The room around me is all white–creamy white curtains drifting in a phantom breeze, white walls glistening with warm sunshine. It feels like I’m out of my own body as Dalton lowers his head, his incredible green eyes shining like smooth jade. I wrap my arms around his neck while his lips hover over mine.
He’s close enough I could kiss him. I want to. I wonder what he tastes like more than anything.
“Tell me what you want, Angel.”
“I want you,” I whisper, trailing my fingertips over the back of his neck.
“Eyes on me,” he whispers, then lowers his head. I feel the briefest featherlight touch of his lips against my own before the dream disintegrates and I’m yanked back to startling reality.
Naked and tangled in sweaty, damp sheets, I sit up and rub my
