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I was in that fuzzy place between dream and awake. Unicorns
flapped their glittered wings as Jacob and I floated down the
Grand Canal. Our toes grazed the surface of the turquoise water
and the night sky was lit up with fireworks that gobbled up the
dark, leaving nothing but light and passion.
Before, I would have held tight to that place where he was mine
and anything was possible, but I forced my eyes open with a smile
still on my face. I breathed in the warmth of his cologne then ran
my fingertips along the dark hair that lined his forearm. Jacob
Whitmore had not only given me the best sex I'd ever had the night
before, but also hadn't stolen away as soon as I drifted off to sleep.
Reality was finally better than any dream I could conjure up.
I let my eyes glaze over his sleeping form. The sprinkle of light
streaming in from the window turned his golden skin a kaleidoscope of brown, each shade more luscious than the last. I moved my hand up to his muscled bicep, the firmness of it making my body clench with want. Half his face was in shadow, but the part I could make out was beautiful in the morning light. The strong jawline, sharp nose, high forehead--all of it was perfection, like Michelangelo himself had chiseled him from marble.
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