***Okay, so yesterday I was talking to a friend about a certain someone. This is what happens to late night conversations and my brain! I hope that the other couple fonts come through this properly!!***
She opened her eyes with a start as she ran through the pictures from the dream through her head. They gave her a great vision for the end of her latest story. And she needed to go write them down before they left her head. Twisting her head, she stared at the sleeping form of the man beside her. He looked so peaceful. Hopefully her movements and the small light from her desk wouldn’t wake him.
Sliding slowly from the bed, she then tip-toed over to her desk while throwing her robe over her naked body. The clock on her nightstand said it was late. Sometimes she hated when ideas struck her in the dark. It always seemed to take forever to wake up.
Just type out the dream Fiona. Then you can crawl back into bed with that delicious piece of man!
Smiling to herself, Fiona booted up the small netbook that she kept separate for writing alone. It loaded quickly and she opened a new document before furiously typing all of the information she could remember from the vivid images of the dream she’d woken from just moments before.
She pulled the sash of the robe up and bit down on it, chewing subconsciously as more and more words began to fill the space. She didn’t hear the sheets rustle as he sat up and leaned against the headboard. She didn’t see him watching her with lusty eyes. And she didn’t see him push the sheet down farther so his rapidly growing length was standing at attention in his lap.