as she opened the drinking tab on her cup of tea. But she was thinking here was the proof that she wasn’t awake yet because Sofia’s words made no sense to her at all.
“Not the lack of sleep itself,” Sofia said with a faint smile. “The reason for it.”
When Ildaria stared at her blankly, Sofia shifted impatiently and said, “You’ve lived here for two weeks now, right across the hall from G.G. Close enough for shared sex dreams and I know that’s the dream you were talking about earlier. You’re having them. So . . . how are they?” Sofia asked, her eyebrows wiggling up and down on her forehead. “Are they super hot? They are, aren’t they? Tell me they are.”
When Ildaria started to shake her head, Sofia gave a “bah” of exasperation, her hand waving away what she obviously thought was a denial. “Don’t even try that. If you’ll remember, I can read G.G.’s mind and what I’m reading there is straight-up Mimi porn.”
“Mimi porn?” Ildaria echoed uncertainly.
“Mortal/Immortal making it,” she said helpfully, and then added, “If you went out with myself and our coworkers once in a while like we’ve asked you the last couple of weeks since you started, you’d already know these things.”
“You’re right, of course,” Ildaria said apologetically. “I’m just still trying to adjust to my working hours and living alone.”
“No, you’re not. You’re exhausted from all the shared sex dreams messing with your sleep,” Sofia countered easily, and then announced, “So is G.G. Half the time he looks like an exhausted zombie, and the other half he’s a grumpy bear. As are you,” she added, mouth pursing with displeasure and eyebrows arching on her forehead. “You really need to jump the poor man’s bones or something. Then he’ll pass out and maybe get some real sleep.”
When Ildaria didn’t respond, Sofia added, “We’d all appreciate it. We are not used to a grumpy G.G. The guy is usually a teddy bear, not a grizzly.”
Ildaria shook her head wearily. “I can’t believe you’re asking me to sleep with G.G. for your sake.”
“And yours,” Sofia assured her quickly. “I mean, you’re suffering the frustrations of hell at the moment, so . . .” Turning in her seat to face her, Sofia leaned her elbow on the island and raised her eyebrows. “Tell Mama all about it. What are shared sex dreams really like?”
Ildaria bit her lip, her thoughts turning to the dream she’d been having before Sofia had woken her. It was one of many she’d enjoyed the last two weeks. She’d had the first one her first night. She’d gone to bed in the lovely, comfortable bed from Marguerite’s home that they’d brought for her, and—exhausted from all the setup she’d done in the apartment that day, and then the hours she’d spent working before continuing with laundry and cleanup after taking H.D. up to her apartment until G.G. came to get him—Well, between all of that, she was nearly asleep before her eyes were fully closed.
G.G. had obviously been asleep already by then, because she’d fallen right into a dream. She’d found herself in the Night Club office, H.D. curled up in his basket, and her working in the tight pencil skirt and blouse she’d worn for her first night of work, and G.G. had come in to check on her. Only instead of just popping his head in and speaking for a few moments, he’d entered and crossed the room to come around the desk, his eyes smoldering as they slid over her body.
He hadn’t said a word. He’d simply reached out, caught her by the upper arms to lift her to her feet and then had clasped her face in his hands and claimed her lips.
G.G. was an amazing kisser. At least, he was in dreams, and Ildaria had hardly noticed when his hands had slid into her hair, delving through the strands until the neat bun she wore it in for work was gone and her hair was sliding down to curl around her face, neck, and shoulders.
He’d lifted his head then, saying in that deep sexy rumble of his, “I want you. You’re immortal and I know I shouldn’t. But I want you so damn bad.”
The next thing Ildaria knew, she was climbing him like a palm tree. While his mouth claimed hers again, and she responded, she was also tearing at his clothes, desperate to touch his skin. Ildaria wasn’t the only one. He was tugging her blouse out