Chapter 8: S1 Hidden: Dream Lovers

Sophia Mahoney

The rich scent of vanilla mixed with jasmine wafts in the air. Drawing in a deep breath of the enticing aroma awakens her senses.

Footsteps drum on the floor nearby, keeping a steady cadence. Her heartbeat quickens.

She's not alone.

Sophia's eyes snap open, and she scans the room. She's in the parlor on the sofa, and she's wearing a red satin gown. But she doesn't remember changing.

Three glasses of wine sit on the coffee table.

"You're up," a familiar voice whispers from the shadows.

Sophia's heart thuds. Sitting, she locks eyes with Aden.

"What are you d-doing here? How did you?"

"I'm here because you summoned me. You reached out to me - to us."

Aden approaches the couch with Logan on his heels. They both kneel in front of her. Confusion swirls around, with the fog already weighing her mind.

"Summoned you." Sophia shakes her head. She finds the meaning of his words had to grasp.

The view of the room looks odd, and a haze lingers. It brings to mind lucid dreaming.

If that's what this is, she thinks with a grin. I can control what happens.

"Yes. And I'm glad you did." Aden reaches out and cups her chin, tipping her head back.

"Are you?" She toys with the idea of how far she should allow this to play out.

"You're all I've thought about." His breath, warm and minty, flows over her skin like the caress of a familiar lover.

Slowly, he eases her into the cushions. His warm lips press against her jawline.

Gasping, she sucks in a breath of air as he leaves a fiery trail of kisses across her jaw and down her neck.

Hands slide up her calves and continue to glide over her thighs, but they're not Aden's.

"Wait." Sophia's fingers encase Logan's, stopping his progression up her thighs. "What are you doing?"

The room spins around her, and her vision grows fuzzy. She can't focus her thoughts.

"Relax, Sophia." Aden tenderly strokes the side of her face. His touch sends tingling sparks of energy rippling across her skin.

"Wait. This isn't real." She fights to keep a tremor out of her voice. "You're not real, neither of you, are you?"

"This is a shared dream. One you initiated. But I assure you, the emotions evoked are authentic." Aden claims her lips. The kiss, soft and gentle at first, leads into an urgent and demanding hungry lip lock.

Light swirls around Logan, and he fades out of view, to where she's not sure. Perhaps, back to the land of dreams to call upon another time.

A dream. It's only a dream. The tension in her shoulders dissipates, and Sophia's body relaxes. Slowly, her shoulders roll forward, and the tension in her neck and back melts away.

Aden's touch upon her skin makes her body buzz with nervous energy and come alive.

He presses his lips to hers, then leaves a trail of desire from her mouth to the bustline of her scooped neck gown. The fabric rubs against her erect nipples, and his mouth closes over the material. Sophia arches her back and presses her breast closer to his mouth.

Positioning himself on the couch, Aden pushes the dress over her knees, then eases her legs apart. His warm lips kiss the insides of her thighs.

"Oh God," she pants, finding it hard to catch her breath. "Dream or not, I can't do this."

She snaps her eyes open. A wave of disorientation hits her, and the objects in the room spin around her like a blur. The roar of her racing heart hammers in her ears. And the lingering effects of the dream tug at her mind.

Sophia looks down at her clothes, half-expecting to see the gown. However, she's still wearing her exercise gear along with Aden's shirt.

"Holy crap." She swallows a lump in her throat. "That was intense."

Sitting, she rubs the sleep out of the corners of her eyes, then glances at the clock on the wall - it's a little after midnight.

What the hell was I dreaming? Well, I know what I was dreaming.

Rising, she makes her way up the stairs. A shower would be nice. Maybe a cold one to douse the warmth lingering between her legs.

The interior of the bathroom, lined with tiles from floor to ceiling, reminds her of a carnival fun room. Walls alternate between red tiles with white grout and white tiles with red grout. The shower stall, tub, sink, and toilet are white with silver fixtures.

Making her way to the sink with heavy footsteps, Sophia peers into the oval mirror. Her lower jaw is discolored, and her eye is a bit swollen. She touches her cheekbone, then flinches because the area is tender.

Sophia gazes into the mirror, and her lips curl into a small smile.

Aden's shirt looks more like a dress than sports apparel.

She holds up the business card he gave her, keys his number into her phone, then sets both the card and device on the vanity.

Taking hold of the bottom of the garment, she pulls it overhead, then tugs off her sports bra, which makes her sore muscles ache. After shimmying out of her jogging shorts and panties, she tosses the clothing down the laundry chute that leads to the washroom on the ground level.

The tile is cold under her bare feet. Standing in front of the shower, she slides open the glass door and turns on the water. When steam bellows out, she enters the steamy stall.

Lukewarm water cascades down her body, leaving a murky puddle of trail dirt at her feet. She closes her eyes and takes in the warmth. Images of the partially masked man from the park fill her thoughts.

A shiver runs up her spine. And tears spill from the corners of her eyes.

Sophia's chest tightens. Uncle Hugo would've known what to do. He would've made her feel safe, but he's not here. She's alone, really alone. Standing in the shower, head against the smooth tile, she weeps.

God. What if that thing comes back? She shakes her head to clear the intrusive thoughts of the park, as well as the painful reality of her uncle's death.

That was then, and this is now. Geez. I must pull myself together.