Book3:WereMyDreamIs

itwasthealcoholthatcloudedherbrainandhamperedherabilitytotrate.Sleepinesscreptonher.ShedecidedtolookDimitriupthedayandtalkwithhimmoreiail.Shewouldstartwritingaftershehadabettergripandoveralluandingofthestory.Shefeltitwasuselesstotiinghereandtryinvaintomakeheadortailsoutofthehashinherbrain.ShewasjustabouttostandupandgotoherbedroomwhenshesuddenlyrememberedDimitri’stellingherhowheledhistwenty-fourbeautiesonebyoohisKingdomofDreamsandhowwhencamitystruck,hesafelyevacuatedthembaundanewain.“Whatawonderfulpcetostart”shethought.“Icouldbeginwiththelivesofthetwenty-fourbeautiesaftertheirreturh!”Shefeltinvigoratedandre-energized.Thepent-upvexationsofthepastmonthsweresweptaway.Shestoodupandwalkedwaveringlyintoherbedroom.

    Partingthelonghairbehindherneck,sheunzippedthezipperofherskybluedressandsteppedoutofitwhenitpooledatherfeet.Theookoffherpedi-coat.Thoughtipsy,Charina’smovemeainedherfemininecharm.Theweatherbeingsohot,shedecidedtotakeoffherbraaswelndydownperfectlyrexedonherfortablebed.Shecoveredherabdomenwithalightbandfelsleep.Shehadfottentocloseherslightlyopenedwindowandasmallmosquitoflewinthroughthecrack.Afterflyingaroundtheroomafewtimes,itlocateditstarget,stoppedonCharina’sbeautifulthighaosuckherblood.Feelingitchy,Charinasppedatherthigh.Thegreedylittlemosquito,heavywithfreshlysuckedbloodwassluggishandslowtomoveandwassquashedunderherhand,leavingaspotoffreshbloodonCharina’ssnowwhiteskin.

    Uhemoonlight,ashadowfshedby.EmmanuelproppedonehandonthewalndjumpedeasilyintoCharina’sbackyar