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She watched him disappear into the Ephemeros’s swirling mist and wanted to call him back, but in the next moment, a new figure emerged from the blankness.

  Tovah, no longer in the mood for unexpected company, prepared to shape her exit light. She’d made it to the x when she stopped. “It’s you.”

  “I told you I’d find you,” said her lover from the club. “And here you are.”

  Tension coiled in the pit of her belly. “Here I am.”

  He smiled, moving forward. “You didn’t make it very easy.”

  She returned his smile, which sent heat flaring down to her toes. All ten of them. “Sorry.”

  “I thought maybe you were avoiding me.” His mouth tilted down at the corners in a self-deprecating frown she found utterly charming.

  Tovah moved toward him. She had to tip her head back to look into his face, but didn’t feel like representing taller. Being with a man that size, so tall and broad, made her feel like something she never was. Petite. Delicate. Uberfeminine.

  “I wasn’t avoiding you.”

  “Good.”

  Novelists were fond of writing things like “the air crackled with tension” or “sparks of attraction flew between them.” It was understood to be creative license, not meant to be taken literally…in the waking world. In the Ephemeros, where all things were possible, sparks really did crackle when he looked at her.

  Her lover reached his hand to take hers and bring it to his lips. Tovah shivered. Perfection, that touch. That look. She might be shaping some of it, but it didn’t matter because he was going along with it.

  “I don’t even know your name,” she whispered as his breath ghosted along her skin.

  “What do you want to call me?” He slid a hand along her hip to press against the small of her back.

  Tovah raised an eyebrow. “Your name?”

  He laughed and dipped his head to brush his lips along her temple. Music, something soft and slow, something meant to be played on a record, not an iPod, sifted through the air around them. They were dancing in a moment, her feet moving unerringly to the pace he set.

  Candles on tall metal holders bloomed around them like the daisies she’d shaped before. The grass became smooth, polished wood. Her partner wore tails and shiny shoes that reflected the warm yellow glow of candlelight. He was making this for her, and it was tempting to let him.

  It was a dream, after all.

  Did his name matter, when everything else was perfect? When he knew just how to move with her along the floor, their bodies aligned just so? What mattered a name when the hem of her red gown whispered over rose petals that should’ve, would’ve, tripped her up but didn’t.

  The music swelled and he twirled her out, then in again. His hands fit her body like they’d been made for her. Shaped for her. They probably had been.

  “How much of this,” she murmured, tipping her head to offer him her mouth, “is me?”

  His mouth brushed hers. “I’d venture to say, all of it.”

  The kiss took a long time, and she savored it. His mouth tasted of mint and sunshine, fresh things. Of heat and desire. His eyes fluttered closed, the lashes like dark gates closing off the emotions in them—but she wasn’t here for emotion.

  A low leather sofa appeared in just the right spot to hold them when he sat. Tovah straddled his lap, her knees pressing the soft leather and her dress no longer sweeping the floor. His hands slid up her thighs, finding the soft, tender skin inside them and stroking with his thumbs. Liquid heat pooled between her legs beneath the wispy lace of panties she knew she hadn’t shaped.

  “Nothing of you at all?” She gave him a small smile.

  “Maybe just a little.” His thumb roamed higher, pressing her until she pushed her body against his.

  She put her hands on the sides of his face to kiss him. She swept the inside of his mouth with her tongue, tasting him and drawing out his breath, which she caught in her lungs for a moment before releasing it.

  “Maybe more than just a little,” she breathed, looking deep into his eyes.

  Then she asked no more questions. This wasn’t her dream alone; it was theirs. She had no clue where he might be in the waking world. His name, his real appearance, what he did for a living. None of that mattered. There was no worry. No disease. No accidental pregnancy. Hell, not even a worry of heartbreak. There couldn’t be any expectations of flowers and coffee in the morning when in the morning you wouldn’t even know the other if you passed on the street.

  “Do you want me?” she asked as his fingers tangled in her hair.

  “Yes.” He didn’t shout or moan the answer. It came out in a low growl, like rocks tumbling together.

  Orgasm already hovered moments away from her own stroking fingers. When he pulled her up and onto his lap and their clothes vanished in a neat trick she didn’t have time to admire, Tovah trembled, waiting for the surge of welcome pleasure. She gasped as he filled her. Pleasure built higher and higher until she could think of nothing but the urgency, the sweet heat his movements were making.

  She cried out when the first wave washed over her. For one moment she could no longer see, nor hear. Her breath left her and was given back with his kiss a moment later. He filled her lungs and her body at the same time. He surrounded her. Tovah floated on ecstasy as ripple after ripple of sweet pleasure cascaded over her. The leather couch had become a much larger bed, and her lover rolled onto his side. He took her hand, linking their fingers loosely, and let out a long sigh.

  He smiled and turned his head to look at her. Funny, how his features changed subtly whenever she looked at him. What might’ve been disconcerting was only curious. She reached to brush his dark hair off his forehead. The silky length felt good.

  “I have to go,” she said at last, with regret.

  He nodded. His hand followed the curves and valleys of her body. “I know.”

  “Will you find me again?”

  “If you need me to.”

  She paused at that, realizing what he meant. “Oh,” she said, unable to not sound disappointed. “You’re a guide.”

  His smile warmed her a little, but she still felt a bit like an ass. “You knew that, didn’t you?”

  She had to admit she’d guessed it. A shaper with that much skill would have to be a guide. She just hadn’t thought he was guiding her.

  “This is only a little bit about me,” he reminded her. “I think it’s going to be a lot more about me in the future, though. If you don’t mind.”

  She ran a finger over his chest. “I need to have hot, naughty sex with a stranger, is that what you’re saying? My subconscious is putting this out there, shaping this for me, and you as a guide are only helping me find my way?”

  “Something like that,” he purred, kissing her again. “But even guides don’t guide all the time, sweetheart.”

  She giggled at this endearment, and the way his hands tickled along her sides. “Okay, Lothario.”

  “Is that what you want to call me?”

  “Is that your name?”

  He didn’t answer, just kissed her again until the edges of the Ephemeros frayed and she let out a low curse. “Shit. I have to go.”

  “Don’t fight it. There’s always later,” he assured her with another kiss.

  They were dressed, then, and she appreciated the consideration. They could say goodbye this time instead of stealing from sleep like thieves. And not naked, always a bonus.

  “You’ll find me?” She already knew the answer. “Of course, because you’re a guide.”

  He smiled. “Yes.”

  She thought of what Ben had said and frowned a little, remembering how annoying he’d been. “Are you a good guide, or a bad guide?” she asked without thinking, the alarm blaring in her ear tearing her concentration in half.

  “Oh, sweetheart,” said her lover, “I’m very, very good.”

  And then she was awake, staring at her ceiling while the wah wah wah of her alarm echoed in her bedroom.

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