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This is from a WIP with the working title of The Perfect Man. Annelise has been having a series of increasingly erotic dreams. Her friend suggests giving “lucid dreaming” a try in order to get to the bottom of why this is happening. In retrospect, perhaps a pirate wasn’t her best choice for answers. ;-)
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Who are you?”
“Black Bart, Scourge of the Seven Seas,” he swept her a courtly bow. “At yer service, mildady.”
“Now listen, Mr. Bart. I don’t know what you have in mind but we need to talk.”
“I think ye be knowin’ what I have in mind,” he said with a leer. He grabbed his crotch and cupped himself suggestively at her.
Annelise gasped, flushing from the roots of her hair to where her skin disappeared beneath her blouse. Hunger leapt into his eyes. With one booted foot, Bart swept the chest out of the way.
“Please, this isn’t what I’m here for,” she said a little desperately. Was it wrong to be getting so turned on? You’re here for answers, she reminded herself. She kept backing away and he kept following.
“I need to ask you a question.”
He had her backed into a corner. “And what question would that be?”
“I need to know whether you’re a ghost or just a manifestation of my over-active imagination.”
“I dinna feel like a ghost.” he reached out and pulled her up against the hard length of his body. Her libido kicked into overdrive and she almost forgot why she was doing this. “Would ye be thinkin’ I feel like a ghost?”
“No, I, stop that!” His free hand was toying with the ties to her blouse. Annelise slapped his hand away and slithered out of his grasp. His low chuckle told her that she only got away because he allowed her to do so.
“This is important!” she told him.
“Aye,” he agreed solemnly. “Ravaging be one of a pirate’s most important tasks.”
“If you’re a ghost, I need to know why you keep haunting me, and why you keep appearing to me in different forms.”
“And if I dinna be a ghost?”
“Then I need to know what you are,” she whispered.
His eyes narrowed. “Tell me lass, what d’ye think I be?”
“I don’t know!” A thread of frustration leeched into her voice. “I’m trying to write a novel, and I keep dreaming about the perfect man, but you keep changing. Why do you keep changing?”
He shrugged, the casual movement rippling across his shoulders. Her breath quickened, his gaze fastened on her heaving chest. Annelise licked her lips.
“Are ye sure they’re just dreams then?”
She nodded. “Every morning I wake up alone.”
“Is it the different forms these spirits take or the fact they keep disappearing on ye that bothers ye most?”
“I–” Annalise thought about it for a moment. “I guess the fact that no wonder how wonderful my dreams are, I always wake up alone.”
“Maybe ye just need to settle on yer perfect man,” he suggested.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. He truly was magnificent. If this really was just a dream, it was time to take advantage of it. She took a step closer. “Now, weren’t you about to ravage me?”
“Aye, milady.” The piratical glint was back in his eye. “That I was.” He reached for her once more.
