I'm dedicating this chapter to @wonderingfromreality because she edited this chapter for me, (Plus she's awesome x)

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FOURTEEN YEARS LATER

"Psst."

My eyes opened. I jumped out of bed while simultaneously swatting the air, hoping to dispel the somewhat alluring voice.

"Psssst," he repeated, slightly louder than before.

I glared at the wall and threw myself back down on my bed. My eyes shut tightly and I counted back from ten.

It really didn't bode well for me if I was hearing things, but then again, this wasn't the first time I heard this voice.

Was I going crazy?

"Pssssst!" the voice hissed again, and a shiver traveled down my spine. The noise didn't seem to be coming from anywhere.

"Bambi," his voice caressed the name he had given me since the first time I 'met' him.

"This is not real. It's just a dream," I chanted under my breath, trying to calm my rapidly increasing pulse. But he'll, it sure felt real.

I'd like to say my reaction to him was normal but hey, it was just a dream right? He didn't really exist, so I could be as slutty as I wanted. It was kind of terrifying to think that my mind created this perfect, dark haired Adonis solely for my pleasure. Clearly, I have issues.

He appeared out of my closet with his shirt undone, and hair so messy it just begged to have my fingers running through it. His mossy green eyes were heated as he took me in, sprawled as I was on my bed.

He sauntered his way towards me, smirking softly, and showed off the two dimples on either side of his cheeks. When he came within jumping distance, he opened his arms wide. He knew that I wouldn't miss the opportunity to wrap myself around him.

I pulled myself out of bed again, and hurtled myself at him like the deranged weirdo I was. I knew he wouldn't let me fall.

His green eyes darkened as he pulled my face to his, feverish lips crushing against mine instantly. Hot, calloused palms seared me as his hands gripped me, pulling me up and slamming me against the wall. My legs automatically wound around his hips, and he tugged my bottom lip gently between his. Who knew lip biting could be so hot?

After a few minutes, I pulled my lips away from his to breathe. Passing out due to lack of oxygen was not hot, and it would force me to wake up. Forgive me for wanting a couple more minutes - no, hours -with my make believe man.

I threaded my fingers through his luscious locks and slyly shoved my head in the crook where his neck met his shoulders. This gave me the perfect vantage point to inhale his mouth watering scent without being caught. He smelled clean, musky and completely manly with a hint of wildness. How someone could smell wild, I didn't know, but he definitely did.

He pulled off my ratty tatty t-shirt, and I was left with just my underwear. The heat immediately rose to my cheeks- we'd never gone this far before! My frumpy underwear wasn't helping my nerves one bit, either.

Of course, I was forgetting that dreams aren't real. So being embarrassed when lover boy looks at my underwear was ridiculous because said lover boy didn't freaking exist!

This whole thing was just a figment of my imagination, that's all. It would do me good to remember that.

All was forgotten when he kissed the sweet spot behind my ear. I shuddered as his light stubble grazed me.

I let my hands roam his muscular body; tracing the ridges of his well-defined abs, and back up to the thick corded muscle around his firm shoulder blades. I lightly traced the tattoo that peeked out from his t-shirt on my way there. It was too dark in my room to make out what it was.

Not one to be out done, he slid his hands slowly, oh so tantalizingly slowly, up my body. He caressed my hips and stomach before cupping my meager boobage.

"Cute," he breathed, smirking against my lips.

I pulled back and glared at him. The fool smirked wider.

"Idiot!" Swatting his hands off my chest, I slid down his hard body to stand on my own two feet. "There is nothing wrong with my boobage," I told him sternly. "Get lost if you don't like what I have!"

He laughed at the fire in my eyes but quickly sobered. "They're the perfect size," he whispered.

See, cheesy but sweet. Just the kind of guy I like. I smiled, instantly forgiving him for calling my boobage 'cute'.

I can't remember what happened next, but I'm sure it went along the lines of him reaching for my panties and snickering. That was when I lost it.

"What the flip is wrong with you?" I demanded, slapping his head as hard as I could. I probably gave myself a bruise in the process; he had one hard head.

He let go of my hips and ducked to avoid another hit. I sort of missed the warmth his huge hands gave. Pathetic really, me yearning for a figment of my imagination. What was wrong with me? Even better question, why was I enjoying it so much?

He moved lightning fast and grabbed my hands, trapping them above my head. Maybe another time I would consider how fast he moved, but I sort of enjoyed the position I was in.

"Stop admiring the view and let me go," I yelled, struggling to release my hands.

"No!" he growled back. "I like you right here, thank you very much."

He paused to peruse my body, and I waited until he decided to drag his eyes to meet mine.

"If this weren't a dream, I would totally sock you in the nuts for doing that."

He laughed. In my face. But considering my current position, I could see where he was coming from.

I was so going to enroll in martial arts training to kick this hot dream guy's ass. Then we'll see who is laughing.

"Loving the panties by the way. You steal them from your Nana?" he cackled.

I raised an eyebrow, unimpressed with his stupidity. "There is nothing wrong with my underwear and..." I added, "They're comfortable."

He raised a quizzical eyebrow in response. He opened his mouth to reply, but a loud knocking sound interrupted him.

Bang, bang, bang!

I stared at my closed door in alarm. This is my dream. Mine! So why was there strange banging?

I guess you could say I was lucid dreaming at this point. I had full control over everything that happened here. Or rather, I was aware that this was a dream.

The knocking didn't make sense. I would certainly not choose to have someone knocking on my door right in the middle of things. 

Mr. Hot Pants looked at me, worry clouding his mossy eyes. He did this fast kind of manoeuvre so his body was protecting mine against the 'unknown monster' and he shot a dangerous glare at the door.

Unfortunately, it meant that I was squished between his hard, unyielding front and the even harder, unyielding wall. My nose was literally pressed up against his chest. I swear I even felt my rib bones creak from the pressure. On the plus side, I could creepily sniff his amazing scent without him suspecting me.

Slowly, he turned his head back towards me. I paused, mid sniff. He shot me a weird look, and I smiled weakly. Shoot, I was so busted.

"Whatever you do, don't open that door."

I felt my brow furrow in confusion. "What do you mean? I need to open the door to leave my room!"

"No! I mean now, here."

I nodded slowly to appease him, but I was still confused as to why I couldn't open my door. If he was real, I would have backed away slowly then ran like hell. But being trapped between a hulk of a man and the wall, I was stuck.

He glared at me, and I sighed. I seriously needed to give him more facial expressions next time; all he did was glare. He was clearly unconvinced I would heed his warning, so I matched his glare. I locked my jaw and everything.

"Fine, I won't."

One of his eyebrows rose. Dang I really needed to convince him. Raising my hands in surrender, I dropped my glare and stared at the floor. "I don't see the point!" I muttered petulantly.

"Humor me, Bambi," he said with another scowl directed at the door.

I took a deep breath and womaned up. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

The man / boy thing sighed - I couldn't tell exactly how old he was - and releases his hold on my wrists. I sighed back, but for a different reason. I still didn't know his name, and it was bugging me. I've been dreaming him up for about three months, ever since the 'accident' but none of the names I thought of suited his gorgeous face. For this reason, he remained nameless.

He slowly bent down, and let me just say, that was a lot of bending. I'm a short girl, barely 5'2", and he seemed to be just over 6 foot. He pressed his full lips softly to my forehead and stepped away.

I turned to stare at the door. Nothing about the mahogany painted wooden door screamed sinister but hey, whatever the guy wanted.

When I turned back, he was gone. I was used to this, but the banging? That was a first.

The knocking started up again, but it was slightly more insistent than before. I stood, rooted to the floor. The hairs on the back of my neck rose as I slowly edged away from the wall.