practical little voice in her head informed her.
Alli thought of it as the voice of her self-control—her self-discipline. It was the voice that kept her on track when she was wearily working through a monstrous pile of briefs for a tough case, the voice that jerked her back to reality if she drifted off into a daydream. It was the same voice that told her a second éclair was a bad idea.
Alli didn’t always listen to that voice—her plus-sized behind was proof of that. But it mostly kept her in line and on task and she was grateful for it. Now it prodded her out of bed and into the shower.
The Kindred showers were one of the reasons Alli kept a suite aboard the Mother Ship, even though she still technically lived on Earth. Instead of just one showerhead, the entire ceiling above the large, square shower stall streamed steaming water. It was like stepping into a warm rain and Alli loved it.
After a moment to get her hair and body wet, she waved a hand above her head and said, “Shampoo.”
Immediately a creamy dollop of sweet-smelling foam dropped from above and landed squarely in her hair. Alli massaged it into her scalp, trying to concentrate on the lovely fragrance and forget about the dream.
When she finished rinsing the shampoo out of her hair, she called for conditioner. After working the cream into her hair, she washed her body, trying not to notice how her nipples were still tender and how her pussy throbbed and ached when she ran the cleansing glove over herself.
What’s wrong with me? she wondered, not for the first time since the dreams had started. They had begun about six months ago, just after she’d hired on as a consultant to the Kindred’s legal team. It was a big move for her career—a very prestigious position, and there had been talk recently of making it permanent.
Everything would be great if the damn dreams didn’t keep popping up every night, driving her crazy and costing her sleep. Was her subconscious mind trying to sabotage her conscious one? Were the dreams trying to tell her something, either professionally or personally?
Alli didn’t know. She only knew she wanted them to end. Which was why she’d been reading the book about lucid dreaming techniques.
“Not that it’s doing much good,” she muttered to herself as she shut off the water. “I knew I was in a dream and I still couldn’t stop it! Couldn’t make the man go away.”
The man. The shadow man with the mirror eyes and the weird tongue. What the hell was her subconscious trying to tell her?
Alli had no idea but she wished to hell it would just stop.
Two
“Maybe you’re Dream Sharing.” Sophia leaned across the coffee table and poured Alli a second cup of klava, the delicious coffee-like brew that was only available aboard the Mother Ship.
There were so many things Alli loved about the Kindred spaceship, she’d considered moving here permanently more than once. But if she did that, what would happen to her relationship with Douglas? It was one thing to take the job and only see each other on the weekends for a while but quite another thing to make the current situation her permanent reality.
“Dream Sharing?” She scoffed at the idea and then thanked her hostess for the refill. They were in Commander Sylvan’s suite. Lizabeth had already left—she and her husband, Lone, were the head of the Kindred Legal Team. But they were also new parents with twins to tend to.
It was the main reason Alli had been brought on board in the first place—to make sure the two of them had plenty of family time. The Kindred always prioritized family life over work—another nice thing about the alien species who now guarded the Earth.
Alli had stayed a little longer after the meeting, lured by the offer of klava. And since Sophie, Commander Sylvan’s wife, was such a sweetheart and so easy to talk to, somehow the dreams had just slipped out. Probably because Sophie had asked how much sleep she’d gotten the night before—apparently Alli looked as tired as she felt.
But she wasn’t tired enough to consider crazy theories like this one.
“How could I be Dream Sharing with anyone?” she asked reasonably, stirring a single teaspoon of sugar—all she would allow herself—into the piping hot klava. “I’m engaged, for God’s sake! And Commander Sylvan himself took my name off the Draft roster. Besides, the man in my dreams doesn’t look