by Linda Mooney
The door jingled. Jolee started to place the ‘zine back into its slot when she heard a gasp of surprise.
“No.”
She looked up.
“Oh, God. It's you!”
The words hadn't come from her mouth, but they could have. Her eyes widened as she stared at the man standing not a dozen feet away.
It was the man in the pictures.
She felt the blood drain from her face. At the same time she could see his face growing paler by the second. He took a step toward her, then another. Were those tears in his eyes?
“You said I would know you when I saw you...” His voice cracked as he approached her. One hand lifted in her direction. “It's you. It's you.”
She felt she was being overcome by a wall of pure male perfection. He walked up to her, and the outstretched hand dove into her hair behind her head. His mouth descended over hers, and all sense of place and time dissolved into little bits of nothing.
Strong arms enveloped her. His body slid against hers, forcing her to clutch his shirt to keep herself steady. It was a kiss so demanding she lost herself in it. Nothing in her life had prepared her for the way he drank of her, drawing her tongue into his mouth to suck and fondle it with his.
The light scent of musk filled her nostrils. The man had sprayed himself before coming. The cologne...his warmth...the way he cradled her as his mouth almost devoured her...
It was too much too soon. As much as she hated doing it, she almost had to shove him away. “Wait. Wait! I-I think you've mistaken me for someone else!”
“No, I haven't,” he insisted, pulling her back against him.
“Yes, you have! I'm not the woman in the pictures!”
“Yes, you are,” he breathed across her cheek. “You're the woman I've been searching for these past eight years.”
She was melting, becoming totally pliable in his arms. She could feel the hard bulge of his erection rubbing along her thigh. The thought of him shoving it inside her was nearly her undoing, and it took her last effort to try and make sense of this whole encounter. Placing her hands to his chest, she pushed him away again.
“That's impossible. How is it...possible?” She was completely overwhelmed, but she didn't care. Even when his five o'clock shadow scraped across her skin.
The heated length of petrified wood pressed harder between her legs. Unconsciously, she parted her thighs to let it rest in the indentation made by her skirt, but it wasn't enough. If this man swept her up in his arms and took her away with him, could she resist him? Would she?
As unexpected as his kiss, he lifted his face to stare down at her. A foolish grin spread over his lips. “Uhh, not quite the welcome we both were expecting, was it? Hi. I'm Mike Owensby.”
He had stopped playing havoc with her head when he'd broken off the kiss, but he still held her. The rapid thudding of his heart underneath her palms continued to keep her off-kilter.
“J-Jolee. Wiley. Nice to, uhh, meet you?”
Mike stepped back, releasing her, much to her disappointment. The disk was still in her hand. She held it out to him. He took it silently.
“What did you mean? How can I be the woman in those photos?” she asked, to keep the conversation going. Suddenly, she didn't want him to leave her, or leave here without her.
He glanced around to see how much of a spectacle they'd created. “Not here. Do you live nearby?” he whispered in that dark, panty-melting voice.
There was no hesitancy in her reply. “Just down the block.”
A titter in the aisle over brought her back to reality. They were making out in the middle of a Mom and Pop grocery store. Not exactly the place for the kind of encounter they'd just had.
“Come on.” He grabbed her hand and started for the door.
Jolee was right behind him.
She was able to catch her breath once they hit fresher air. “Third building on the right. The one with the cornflower blue door.”
He nodded mutely, never releasing her hand as he led the way. She noticed finally what the photos couldn't show. He was tall but not gangly. His shoulders were wide and nicely developed without any of those over-pumped muscles. Long legs ate the ground, taking one stride for every two of hers. Thank goodness they didn't have far to go.
“This it?”
She broke her gaze away to see they were at the front door. “Already?”
“Yeah.”
“Where's the key?”
She handed it over and watched him climb the steps to unlock the door. A flush of heat suddenly washed over her as she realized what was about to happen.
They were going to make love. Oh, dear Lord, she was getting her reward!
The door swung open. Mike ushered her in first. Jolee mentally added that fact to the list that was piling up checks in his plus column faster than she could tally.
“309. Elevator's over there.”
He practically dragged her into the lift. Before the doors were completely shut he pulled her back into his embrace for another all-encompassing kiss. The pole of petrified wood was still there, trying to penetrate the cloth barrier separating them. This time when he pulled away he murmured, “I'm sorry. I couldn't wait to do that again.”
“S'okay.” Geez, she sounded lame, but it was a miracle she could say anything at all during this whirlwind seduction. Somehow she managed to take the keys from him so she could find the one to her apartment. Again he opened the door and let her go in first. He'd barely closed it behind them when they came together with the force of two tornados merging.
Her body was frying, her skin sizzling when she felt his hands slipping her blouse over her head. His lips were everywhere; his tongue danced across her flesh, mouth, cheek, then her neck and shoulder. She let him undress her as she relished the feel of his hands roaming over her breasts and hips before stopping to cup her buttocks. The sweet slickness between her thighs evidenced her growing need.
“Jolee...” He moaned into her mouth. It sounded like a loving declaration.
She shivered, and the walls of her vagina clenched in anticipation.
She gasped as he lifted her into his arms and carried her down the short hallway to the bedroom. He didn't even bother with pulling back the bedspread. Jolee felt the cool coverlet at her back and turned her head to watch him strip. Just as she'd suspected, his chest was a wall worth exploring, all the way down to the crop of chocolate-colored curls between his legs.
Sweet Mother of God, you're even more wonderful up close!
That pole of petrified wood definitely got her attention, too. She started to reach for it when he ditched his pants then climbed on top of her.
Foreplay was over. She was starving for him as much as he was her. Jolee lifted her knees to accept him, and nearly cried out when he pressed himself into her deep and hard. Never stopping until his whole length was shoved inside her. A puff of hot air seared her neck, and Mike groaned beside her ear.
“My Jolee...beautiful Jo...”
This is insane! a little voice inside her head kept repeating. Okay, it was insane, she agreed. Insane or delusional. Either way, she wasn't going to argue or attempt to stop this torment until she was damn good and ready.
His thickness pulled through her, shredding sanity and taking away every thought as he adjusted himself over her and began stroking harder. Almost pounding himself until she could hear their flesh slapping together. The bed rocked with their motion. His mouth lifted away long enough to say her name again.
Jolee could feel the tenseness rising. Beneath her hands the muscles in his back also tightened, and she hooked her heels around his waist.
The build-up came over her fierce and demanding, wiping out all thought. Everything flew out the window as her orgasm hit her without warning. Arching her back, she was faintly aware of Mike crying out when her inner walls gripped him. He tried to continue his thrusts, but the strength of her muscles locking him in place was too much. In the next instant he poured himself into her. His groan
filled the room as their bodies trembled with the aftershocks of their orgasms.
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* * *
Chapter Six
Time passed unobserved. At some point he collapsed on the bed next to her, but his arms continued to hold her. Touching her. Caressing her with gentle movements. One hand pressed against her buttocks, keeping himself trapped within her.
Slowly, inevitably, Jolee opened her eyes to see him watching her. She wearily smiled. “You have lots of ‘splaining to do.”
Another one of those sexy chuckles vibrated under her fingers. “How well can you suspend belief?”
She blinked. “Like, in fairy tales?”
“Something like that.”
Rolling over, Jolee propped herself up on her elbows. “I've just had the best sex of my life with a man I've only drooled over in photos, and you want me to suspend my beliefs? Mike, we didn't use protection!”
Mike smiled and ran a hand through her hair, smoothing it back across her shoulders. “What I'm about to tell you is going to sound like something out of the ‘Twilight Zone', but you have to trust me. It's the truth. As for the absence of a condom, you have nothing to be afraid of.”
“Yeah, I bet. How many women have you used that line with?” she asked, but without the touch of sarcasm she normally would have used. The man was being sincere with her, and she knew it. How she knew, she couldn't explain. No more than she could explain why this hunk of male perfection was hers and hers alone.
He gave another chuckle. “Jolee, I'm a Dream Seeker. More specifically, a Dream Keeper. An Archivist, to be more specific.”
“I'm still lost,” she drawled, grinning.
“I take pictures of people's dreams, then keep them for future reference.”
Jolee frowned down at the man whom she knew was being totally honest with her, and damn if she could figure out why she was so certain. “Which people? How would they know to contact you? And why would you do such a thing? You can't photograph dreams.” Giving a nod in the direction of her living room, she added, “How come you're on that roll of film I found?”
“Those photos are of my dreams, Jolee. They're my dreams of the one woman I love with all my heart.” Now he was dead serious. His dark eyes stared straight into hers.
“Who was the woman who looks like me, then?”
“It was you.”
It took a moment for her to accept what he was saying. But before she could open her mouth to retort, Mike laid a finger across her lips. “Let me explain. Please.”
He pulled himself out of her before moving up and leaning against the headboard. Lifting her, he waited for her to get comfortable lying against him. From the corner of her eye, Jolee could see his manhood beginning to stir. The sight of it was enough to fire up her interest.
“There's a lot on this world that can't be explained,” Mike began.
“Like ghosts and stuff like that?”
“Yeah. Well, there are some people in this world who are known as Dream SeekersOLELINK62. There's quite a few of us around.”
“I thought you said you were a Dream Keeper.”
“A Dream Keeper is responsible for holding safe the dreams of other Dream Seekers. A Keeper is the Archivist for the Seekers.”
“Are you from another world, or something like that?”
She felt him shrug.
“Something like that,” he admitted. “We have legends that tell of a race of humans like us who were seeded on this world. Actually, we have no real idea how we're able to do what we do.”
“Do what?”
“We can dream of our future loves. We can envision the man or woman who is meant to be our perfect soul mate, right down to the minutest detail.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“Then that really was me in the pictures?”
“Uh-huh. If you looked closely you might have recognized some details that would prove it to you.”
The image of the rose tattoo came to mind, along with the comment made by the camera department clerk. “I like the one with the purple unicorn." Jolee turned slightly to look at the little plastic toy sitting in her bookcase near the door. She'd won it at a carnival when she was in high school. Although it was a childish thing, it was her most cherished possession.
Then it struck her. Photo number seventeen. It was a shot of them lying exactly as they were now, naked and replete, with her head tucked against his shoulder. The purple unicorn could clearly be seen sitting on the bookshelf in the background.
“What happens after you take the pictures?”
“That's where the Archivist comes in. When we finally have those dreams, and we take pictures of them, we keep them in storage.”
“In storage? Why? How?”
He sighed. “Okay, how do I explain this? Like I said earlier, I'm an Archivist. I can take pictures of another Dream Seeker who's having visions of the person meant for him. When I develop the shots, the Seeker has a complete set of photos of that person. That way, in the future, when the Seeker finally discovers his fated other half, he can prove to her that they were meant for one another.”
“How do you take a snapshot of something like that?” Jolee whispered. She felt deliciously happy, not to mention well-loved.
Mike ran a hand over her back, and she noticed he paid particularly close attention to her lower back where she tended to have spasms. He pressed his knuckles into the muscle, massaging that area. Another check went into his plus column.
“The same way you take a photograph of anything. I use a regular camera and film, except something very wonderful happens once the film is developed. I'm sorry. I can't explain it any better than that. Personally, I have no idea how I'm able to do it.”
“Can't anyone take pictures of these Seekers and get the same results?” she wondered aloud.
He slowly shook his head. “It doesn't seem to work that way. Apparently, you have to be an Archivist for the special developing to work.”
Jolee mulled over the information. “How did you know you were an Archivist? Why do you have to be the one who keeps their dreams on file?”
“There's a network of us who find each other. There's a way of knowing when you meet another Dream Seeker. And those of us who are aware know I'm an Archivist because I wear the symbol around my neck.”
Her eyes were drawn to the small metal circlet he wore on a leather strap. She looked up at him. “So you took pictures of yourself so you could find me?”
The smile she got in return had her stomach doing cartwheels.
“I started dreaming of you two months ago. That's when I took the photos.”
“Then why didn't you develop the roll?”
“Why? I already knew what you looked like,” Mike told her softly. “I didn't need to Archive the photos.” He kissed her forehead again, right at the hairline. “You have no idea how important it was for me to retrieve that roll. I can never explain enough what it means to finally find you.” By silent mutual consent they both readjusted their bodies into another comfortable position.
“Mike, before you go any further, explain something to me.”
“I'll try.”
“Why did you need to get the roll back? I mean, if you weren't planning on developing the pictures, why did you need to find the roll?”
“For one thing, it was my only proof of you,” Mike admitted.
Jolee watched as his fingers traced invisible designs on her abdomen, then gradually moved upward toward her breasts.
“More importantly, I had to get the roll back before it disintegrated.”
“Huh?” She glanced up at him.
“Think of...think of the photos as a time bomb. When I discovered that I was a Dream Keeper and understood what that meant... Hold on. Let me start again. I found out eight years ago I was a Dream Seeker. That's when I also discovered I was an Archivist. A Keeper. I knew that one day I would dream of the woman who was my whole world. And once I did,
I had to take those pictures as soon as possible.”
“Why?”
“Because the dreams don't last.”
“You're not making sense. You mean you would forget me?”
“Worse. Once a Dream Seeker starts having those dreams, they only last for a couple of weeks. Then the dreams are gone. We don't get them back,” Mike answered sadly.
“Oh! I get it now. You take the pictures so that when you forget the dreams, you still have a record of what your love looks like.”
“Eh...in a way. Jolee, the photos will only last for two months. Tops. At the end of two months the photos begin to disintegrate.” He wrapped his arms more firmly around her. “When the pictures are gone, so is the chance a Dream Seeker will ever have to find the other half of his soul.”
She blinked. “You don't remember her? At all?”
“No. Nothing. If and when that happens, the Seeker has lost his chance at true happiness.” Mike reached for one of her hands and lifted it to his lips. “My two months is up. Losing my canister on top of that was...I can't begin to explain how terrified I was.”
“You mean you'll never find the woman you love?”
“Not the one I was meant to. Oh, yeah, there have been Dream Seekers who've gone on to marry. If they're lucky, or blessed, or both, they remain with that person for the rest of their lives. But they're just as certain to divorce or have bad marriages as the rest of humankind.”
Jolee slowly digested that bit of information. She also remembered his warning about the film disintegrating. “Mike, I had the film developed at the camera store. Is the store in any danger?”
“No. Not after the roll is developed. But that disk is a danger. I'll have to get rid of it.”
“One more thing,” she asked as she watched him crawl out of bed. Mike paused to listen, giving her his undivided attention. Add another check, she mentally smiled. “Okay, tell me if I have this straight. You find out you're a Dream Seeker, and someone like you becomes an Archivist, which makes you one of their Dream Keepers. What's so great about being a Dream Seeker?”