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“Oh. Parameters. Okay.” He grinned. “Like ‘no kicking the groin.”
Her eyes dipped to his pelvis, then back up.
Luc enjoyed the blush of her cheeks. “Just in case.”
“That’s probably an excellent parameter. No maiming.”
“Why? Would you want to maim me?”
“No!” She bristled, her head shaking emphatically. “Of course not.”
He wasn’t sure if that disappointed him or not. He’d never been opposed to a little pain. “Do you have a parameter?”
“Well–” she tapped her chin again– “I’d rather not be hurt… you know… like your kicking rule.”
“But anything else goes? You know, for the sake of the experiment?” Luc rubbed his hands together, deciding to enjoy this little dream experiment. What did he have to lose? Nothing. He was dreaming.
She hedged, then said, “Yes. Okay.”
“But it should probably be more than a touch, right? Or a pinch, since we’ve already done that. Something a bit more drastic.” His mind delved into another moment engaged in finding pleasure with dream Brinna. That had pushed him awake. “And what proves that you’re real? That we’re really here? Together?”
“Okay. Something more than a pinch or a touch. Nothing harmful, and the proof is if you remain here in this dream. That you don’t wake up. That you feel it.” Her eyes searched his face. “You first?”
“I think ladies first,” Luc said, smiling, interested in knowing what she would do. “You can demonstrate what you mean.”
She turned her back to him, obviously thinking as she tapped her chin.
“Having trouble?”
“Sort of. I’d really like to maim you.”
He laughed. “I thought you didn’t want to.”
She glanced over her shoulder and smiled, her tongue dipping out to curl up to her upper lip.
Luc’s belly bottomed out, and his cock nudged inside his trousers. Fuck. That look. “Maybe a kiss?” he suggested.
“I kiss in dreams all the time,” she said, slowly.
“All the time?” He waited, and when she didn’t respond, said, “But do you feel the kiss?”
She didn’t answer, but she turned toward him and swallowed. “This is real, Luc.”
He tilted his head. “Prove it to me.”
“Fine,” she said and walked toward him with purpose. He admired the sway of her hips, the way her dress flowed with her movement. When she stopped, just before her toes met his, she tilted her head up. Luc had to look down to meet those gorgeous gray eyes. His heart bobbed, excited at the prospect of kissing Brinna.
She reached out—never taking her eyes from his—and placed her open palms on his abdomen, then slid them up over his shirt. He definitely felt that, and his heart bounced around erratically inside his chest. It wasn’t the suggestion of her touch but the exacting pressure of her hands on him. Her fingers splayed, and damn, if he didn’t feel every bit of that in gorgeous, life-like detail.
Her gaze darted from his eyes to her hands, and he watched her track them, feeling all the delicious friction between her movement, his shirt, and his skin. Though he wished his shirt was gone, it remained—which seemed strange, since dreams often obeyed.
Her palms curved over his chest, then paused when they met his rigid nipples, which she brushed with her thumbs.
She tilted her head to look at him.
He smirked.
She smirked back, then pinched his nipples. Hard. And twisted.
