“You’re the one who changed her name,” I pointed out. “Like it was something to be ashamed of.”
“I was just supporting her journey towards self-actualization. She told me she wanted a new name, and I listened. Who am I to stand in the way of personal growth?”
“She told you she wanted to be named Gretchen?”
“Don’t be jealous just because I’m a cat whisperer and you’re not.”
I laughed. Longer and louder than the joke really warranted. It just felt good, to be able to laugh with Julian again. To be with him again, after so long holding myself back.
“Alright, cat-whisperer. I’m jealous of your awesome powers. Now show me to your guest room.”
I had a sex dream about Julian that night. Because of course I did.
It wasn’t enough to be sleeping in his house, one room down the hall from him. I had to go dream something that quite possibly had me moaning in my sleep, while sharing a wall with the object of my illicit affections.
It started out normally enough. I was at Julian’s house, in the kitchen, just like I had been tonight, except it was late afternoon and everything felt calm in the periwinkle light.
His house felt like a refuge. Full of his gentleness. Walking into the kitchen was like feeling his hands slip through the strands of my hair. It sent the good kind of chills down my spine.
Julian was standing at the sink, doing dishes, his back to me. He leaned against me as I wrapped my arms around him from behind. Tipped his head back, rested it on my shoulder.
I brushed my lips against the exposed skin of his throat, breathing in the scent of lemons and sunlight. Why had I waited so long to come back? Didn’t I know where home was?
“I missed you,” Julian said as my lips grazed his jaw. And in the dream, I didn’t push him away. Didn’t lie. Didn’t hide my feelings.
“I promised you I’d come back.”
Julian’s eyes closed, flickering back and forth under his lids like a candle-flame. His long black lashes danced.
“You were gone for so long.”
“I promised,” I whispered again. My lips sought his ear, sucked the lobe into my mouth, and Julian gasped in pleasure. “I promised.”
And then he turned around, wrapping his arms around my neck in a frenzy as I pushed him up against the sink. I grabbed his thighs, lifting, and he wrapped his legs around me. We staggered sideways, searching for an empty countertop.
In the way of dreams, one second we were clothed and the next we were half-naked, my t-shirt on the floor and my jeans around my knees as Julian’s hands dipped beneath the waistband of my boxers to knead my ass.
I’d been gone so long.
I kissed his skin hungrily, my lips surging across his chest, aching to find someplace on his body I hadn’t yet worshipped. His fingers slid into my hair as my mouth moved lower, seeking heat and wholeness. Julian’s skin was unbruised, unblemished, but I wanted to kiss every inch, just to be sure.
I hooked my fingers into his boxer-briefs, tugged them down, and began to kneel. I was desperate to take Julian in my mouth again, to show him how much I wanted to please him. To serve him. But Julian’s hand alighted on my fingertips, stilling my movements.
I looked up, eyes lust-shot, wondering why.
“No,” Julian said, his voice shaky. “I want you. I need you to—”
He didn’t need to finish the sentence. I was already shifting, standing up and letting him guide me.
Julian pushed me over to the table, laid me down. Our clothes were gone now, and the cool wooden surface pebbled my skin, but his touch was so