“How was the movie?” he murmured in between kisses along my neck and jaw.  That's different.  He never asks me about anything life related.  Since when did my dream lover become interested in anything other than sex.

“I would tell you if I had actually watched it,” I answered.  “What do you mean?” he asked, “I bet Jennifer was disappointed.”  Since when does he even know about Jen?  What is going on?  “She canceled.  Sick baby,” I whispered.  “So, what did you do?  Hang out with Dave?” he asked.  Dave, too?  “No, I used the VIP pass,” I answered, “by myself.”  He hesitated for just a moment, I almost didn't catch it.  “You used the pass, but you didn't watch the movie?” he questioned.  “Yes,” I answered.  He actually stopped, “So, what did you do?”  “Drank champagne and had oral sex,” I whispered, kissing along his shoulder, trying to get him back into it.  He wasn't biting, “Someone touched you?”  There was a hint of danger in his voice.  “Yes,” I answered, not knowing where this was going.

He was gone so quick, as if he had just disappeared into thin air.  I heard a loud thump and what sounded like splintering wood.  I sat up, startled, “What's going on?”  I felt for the blindfold, ready to take it off.  Then stopped, afraid to.  Since when do figments of my imagination become angry and violent.

He didn't say anything.  “McDreamy?” I asked hesitantly, “Are you there?”

“What?” I detected a little bit of confusion in his growl.

“I don't know your name, so we call you McDreamy,” I hesitated again, “You know.  Grey's Anatomy?”  “I don't know what you're talking about,” he growled.  “You're my dream guy, McDreamy,” I explained further, my voice a little high.  “We?” he asked, “Who's we?”  “Me and Jen,” I answered, “I tell her all about my steamy dreams.”  “Oh, right, dreams,” realization dawned on him.  He was calming a little.

“I need to know exactly what happened,” he said.  I could hear clothes rustling.  He must be getting dressed.  I pulled the sheet up to cover myself, suddenly self-conscious.  What is going on?  Why is this so weird now? 
“Start with right before you drank the champagne,” he ordered.

I felt the bed give next to me.  His arm slipped around me, and he hugged me close.  I felt an instant calm come over me.  “Start,” he ordered.  I just started talking, telling him everything, starting from the beginning, right up to going to sleep.  Even things that I didn't want to tell him.  Embarrassing things.  Things that I knew would anger him, but I couldn't stop myself.  A detailed rendition of my first experience with oral sex.  He stiffened a few times but didn't punch anymore walls.  He asked some questions, and I felt compelled to answer, in brutal honesty.

Finally, a relief came over me.  I relaxed and melted into him, about to fall asleep.

Then he said, “You're not going.”  “Huh?” I mumbled.

“When they send the car, you're not going,” he stated as fact.

I instantly became alert, “Yes, I am!  I have to!”

“No, you're not!” he stated with finality.

“You, McDreamy, are just a figment of my imagination.  You don't get to tell me what to do!” I yelled, getting angry, shoving him away from me.  It's more like shoving myself away from him because he didn't budge.

“A figment of your imagination,” he growled dangerously, “That, I am not!”  “Yes, you are!” I bit back.

“No, I’m not,” he said, calmer, “Take off the blindfold.”  I hesitated.  “Now!” he commanded.  I felt my hand slowly rise, as if it had a mind of it’s own, and take the blindfold off.  I kept my eyes closed.  “Open your eyes and look at me,” he commanded.  I felt compelled to open my eyes and did.

Sitting before me sat the best-looking man that I had ever laid my eyes upon.  Of course!  He's McDreamy!  It's not like I’d choose an ugly man for my fantasy.  Who does that?

He had long platinum blonde hair with strands of silver and gold that picked up the lighting just right.  He had perfectly glowing creamy alabaster skin.  His cheeks were hot pink with anger.  His eyes were so blue that they looked purple.  And, of course, he was shirtless, displaying well toned pecks and a prominent six-pack.  I was disappointed to see that he was wearing pants.  I swallowed.  I was actually salivating.

“I’m a real being,” he told me.  “This proves nothing,” I told him, “McDreamy.”  “It's Michael,” he stated, “Stop calling me that.”  “I’ll stop calling you that when you prove that you're real,” I stated, “And I am going tomorrow.”  “It's dangerous.  You don’t know what you're getting into.  You'll regret it,” he warned.  “Evan's going to explain and give me a tour tomorrow.  That's all it is,” I responded.  His cheeks brightened at the mention of Evan.  He's jealous!  Is there something messed up in my head?  He's not real. He's trying to talk me out of the best thing that's ever happened to me, and he's jealous?  What is going on?  I looked down, held my head in my hands, and closed my eyes.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “I think that you need to go now.”  I looked up and opened my eyes.  He was gone.  I looked around.  He was nowhere to be seen.  He has to be a dream.  There's no way he could have left so quickly and silently without me noticing.  I’m going tomorrow.  He didn't give me any good reasons not to.  I turned off the lamp and laid back down.

My eyes shot open to the sound of my alarm blaring.  I reached over to hit the snooze button and looked at the time.  “What!” I screeched.  The clock said nine fifteen.  I sat up, naked.  I frowned.  I was sure I went to bed in a nightgown.  I shrugged it off, no time to worry about it now.  I have to hurry!  I must've been hitting snooze for the last hour.  I’m not surprised.  I didn't sleep very well.  First, there was that crazy dream, then a bunch of other dreams.  They were mostly just people talking and laughing, but they still kept waking me up.  What they were talking about, I don't remember.  I never remember those upon waking.

I hurried to my closet and picked out my second best outfit.  A red and green floral sundress that rested just below my knees.  I wasn't too worried about showing my legs.  Evan can take care of the scars.  I put on white slip on sandals and a white button-down sweater since the weather was beginning to cool.  I brushed my hair and then wheeled myself into the living room with five minutes to spare.  I grabbed my purse, backpack, and a blanket, then wheeled myself to the large picture window to watch for the car.

I glanced back and forth between the window and the clock, my spirits dropping as time went by.  Then, around ten thirty, a limousine pulled up in front of my house.  I breathed a sigh of relief.  I rushed to the door and waited.  A minute later, there was a loud knock.  I immediately opened the door.  “Sorry Miss.  Evan couldn't come, and I got lost,” said the man on the other side of the door.  I hesitated.  A stranger.  I smiled and held out my hand, “I’m Jessica.”  He took my hand, bowed and brought it to his lips, “I’m Devlin.  I will be your escort today.”

He looked young.  Younger than me.  He was wearing a tuxedo that could've been a uniform.  He had long wavy Auburn hair, a creamy complexion, and clear green eyes.  I blushed at the thought that he might be the one giving me feeling back in my legs.  That's okay.  Evan was a stranger, too, and it was worth it.

“Miss Jessica,” he said, alarmed.  “Yes?” I was brought out of my thoughts.  “Are you ready to go?” he asked.  I ignored that internal alarm, “Yes.  I’m ready.” He got behind me and wheeled me down to the car.  He gently picked me up out of the wheelchair and transferred me to the back seat.   He put my chair into the trunk and then got to the other side.  So, he's not the driver.  He tapped on the glass window that separated us from the driver three times, and the car took off.  “Would you like some champagne?” he asked.  “Yes, please,” it might settle my nerves.  He pulled a bottle out of a small refrigerator, filled two flutes, and handed me one.

I drank about three flutes of champagne during the hour long drive.  It was further than I thought.  We talked about various subjects, me, him, just getting to know each other.  I felt the champagne working as I became more and more relaxed.

When we arrived, he came to my side with the wheelchair.  He transferred me into it and waited while I situated my things.  He pushed me up to the entrance of a mansion that I had never been to before.  I might have felt a warning instinct if I hadn't had so much champagne.  The door was opened by a man in uniform, “Hello, Sir, Miss.”  “Hello,” we both greeted.  Devlin pushed me through several rooms to a large door that he stopped in front of and knocked on three times.

“Come in,” I was relieved to hear Angelique's voice.  We entered the room.  “Hello Jessica!” Angelique got up from a large desk, dressed in a fitted gray pantsuit, and walked to me smiling, “It is so good to see you again.”  “It's good to see you,” I smiled.  “I am sorry that Evan is detained elsewhere.  Are you okay with Devlin taking you on a small tour?” she asked, “If you're uncomfortable for any reason, I can tag along.”  “Nothing against Devlin, but would you mind?” I asked hesitantly.  “Sure,” she smiled sweetly, “just give me a moment while I send a couple of texts.”  She sat back down at her desk, got on her phone, and started typing away.  She finished and then started typing on her computer.

“Now, Jessica, would you like to walk for your tour, or do you prefer to wait until after for that?” she asked as she typed.  “I can do that?” I asked, “I thought that I had to join first.”  She stopped typing and sat back in her chair, “Well we do have an agreement that you can sign pledging loyalty and guaranteeing payment.”  “What sort of payment?” I asked.  “Just that you'll make love with one of our members,” she answered.  “Who would it be?” I asked, “Evan?”  I saw something flash in her eyes, “Most likely not Evan, but I promise you that it will be a suitable match.  Perhaps even Devlin, here.”  That would be okay.  He seems nice.  “Okay, I agree,” I answered.

“Devlin, why don't you get Jessica some wine while I finish this up,” she suggested.  He went to a wine cabinet in the corner of the room and selected a bottle.  He poured three glasses and gave one each to me and Angelique.  I took a healthy drink of it.  It was fruity and smooth and tasted very familiar.  Very familiar.   It's time.  I couldn't help the feeling of elation that bubbled up, and I smiled.  I finished it and he poured me more.  I drank it, too.

Angelique finished at her computer and produced a single piece of paper, “Are you ready to sign?”  “Yes,” I smiled.  She handed the form to me on a clipboard along with a pen.  I scanned the document, having trouble focusing, then gave up and signed with a smile.  I handed it back to her.  She signed.  Devlin also signed as a witness.  She took it and filed it away into a locked filing cabinet.

Devlin pulled out his phone and checked it, “I apologize, Angelique, Jessica, I have been called away on business.”  “Go ahead,” Angelique told him, “We'll be okay.  Won't we Jess?”  “Yes.  We'll be fine,” I agreed, feeling great.

Devlin took my hand and brushed my fingers with his lips, “I’ll be seeing you a little bit later, Jessica.” I smiled, and he left the room.

“Well, someone has taken a liking to you, Jess,” Angelique said, then took a drink of her wine.  I smiled, “He's nice, isn't he?”  “He certainly is a romantic,” she agreed.

We finished our wine, then she asked, “Are you ready to get started?”  “Yes,” I answered, wondering what was going to happen, but not really worried about it.  She took my glass, set it on her desk, then pushed me next door into a room with a bed.  She was stronger than she looked because she lifted me out of my chair and laid me on the bed, “Just relax, Jessica, it will be a few minutes.”  I don't know how long it was, but I dozed off.