Jane's Dream-Come-True?
676 Words
Jane woke up with a gasping shout, her chest rising and falling with her heavy breathing.
She looked at her bedside table and slapped a hand over her alarm clock announcing that it was already six in the morning. Instead of getting up and rushing to prepare for work, she stayed in bed and stared at the ceiling.
That was the weirdest dream she'd ever had. And the steamiest, if she may add. She'd never had a wet dream before, nor had she any fantasy of the kind.
She frowned.
Was she that s*x-starved already and the dream was her body's signal for her to jump-start her s*x life?
She shook her head and got up to take a bath.
She was running late and she should just forget what her stupid body and imagination made her experience.
And maybe she should blame all those steamy erotic novels she's been proofreading day and night. Her stupid brain must have been overloaded with erotic thoughts that it translated them into dreams.
"Stupid brain," she muttered as she got up from bed and walked to the bathroom.
***
Jane sighed when the elevator doors finally closed and she's the only person in it.
She hated the mornings when she would have to join people inside crowded elevators. They would talk non-stop with each other about how their weekends went, if they saw the new restaurant around the block or if the redheaded PA from the legal department was screwing a senator.
And she, Jane Carter, was left alone and silent in one corner, nursing a luke warm excuse of a coffee.
Well, that's how her life goes, her being an anti-social.
Yes, she hates the crowd and a room full of people. She would freeze and get all clammy when left alone in that situation, hence, people thinking of her as a snob or worse, a freak-s***h-weirdo.
It's worse enough that she was known in her department as the One Who Does Not Speak. She just shrugged the name-calling away. Thank god they weren't actually calling her deaf and mute.
She sighed and sipped from her caramel and cream coffee.
Her floor was on the fifty-first and the elevator suddenly stopped on the twentieth. Her back straightened when the elevator doors opened and revealed two males who were about to get inside.
Spurred by her impulsiveness and attacked by her negative emotional quotient, Jane immediately sidled to the far back corner of the elevator and pretended to be a bacteria stuck to the metal walls. She kept her head and eyes low even if she felt eyes landing on her. She kept hold of her coffee with both hands because she was shaking badly.
It was too quiet inside the metal box that she feared the other passengers could hear her heart thumping like crazy.
She risked a quick look at the indicator and cursed silently when she saw that they were at the 40th floor.
Why did it seem to be a too slow of a journey to the 51st floor?
When she brought down her head, her eyes met intense green ones on the mirrored doors of the elevator. She sucked in a breath and lowered her head in a snap, almost breaking her neck in the process.
What the hell...?
Why did the sight of those eyes suddenly brought heat and excitement to her body?
Was she going crazy?
She gulped down her coffee until the container was empty. The paper cup wrinkled in her hands when she tightened her hold there.
She must be really going crazy by now, reacting on a pair of eyes from someone she didn't even knew.
But his eyes were like his...
She shook her head, shaking away the image of the man in her dreams.
The elevator dinged and opened on the 49th floor and her two companions walked out.
Jane only finally lifted her head when the doors closed. She sighed then put a hand over throat.
The people were gone but why did she still feel like high on drugs?
Was it because the man's scent still lingered inside the elevator, tingling her sensitive senses?
Or was it because he had the same scent as the man in her dreams...?
***
- Writer
