Reed?

Mmm?

She flipped the covers back, mildly surprised to find herself completely, gloriously naked. She looked up to see Duncan standing next to her bed, wearing nothing but a smile, dimple popping, his erection beautiful and dark against his abdomen, veins prominent. Her mouth watered, which surprised her; normally, oral sex was something she considered a chore, something she knew Sam liked, so she performed, 'performed' being the operative word, like a seal in a circus; do the work, receive the reward, which was usually a kiss, after she'd carefully wiped her mouth and popped in a mint to remove the taste.

She leaned up from the bed to take him in her mouth, but he stepped back.

No no, love, he said, shaking his brown curls. I don't want you to give me head, I'll come too fast. I want to make out a little, and to fuck you, yeah?

Reed nodded, lying back.

Duncan lay down next to her, taking her in his arms, and Reed was once again astonished at how lean and hard his body was, how firm, how sexy. She'd only ever been with Sam, who was so soft and squishy, definitely not like Duncan at all.

Duncan's legs were sinewy with muscle, his abdomen was taut, with a visible six-pack and V-line that was oh so sexy.

Wowza.

Oh, Reed, he murmured into her hair, you're so beautiful, and you smell marvelous.

Really?

Mm hm.

He palmed her breast with his large hand, and Reed was losing her mind from the feel of his calloused fingers on her flesh.

He was already rutting between her legs, probing into her wet heat, moaning at the feel of her.

Jesus, love, you feel so good.

You do too, Duncan.

He sank into her, inch by delicious inch, seeming to revel in the feel of her, pressing her into the bed, groaning with pleasure.

I love how you feel on me, Reed, so hot and slick.

He smiled as he began to pump inside her, and it felt so good that Reed began to come almost immediately, an orgasm that went on and on and on...

Reed sat up in bed, hot and gasping for breath. Her summer comforter was clasped firmly between her legs, and her thighs were nearly cramping from how hard she was grinding them together.

Wow.

She licked the droplets of sweat from her upper lip and unclenched her legs, straightening out her blankets and clearing her throat a couple of times.

Reed got out of bed to take a quick shower. She felt the tactile memories of the dream receding, and tried to hold on to them, loving how he'd felt, how she'd felt; she wished there were some way to preserve dreams, some sort of recording device in her brain so she could just pull out whichever one she wanted and watch it whenever she wanted.

The cool water felt heavenly against her warm skin, and she went ahead and washed herself, though she'd just showered a few hours earlier. Her sex still throbbed from her incredible orgasm a few minutes before, and she turned her body this way and that, letting the water hit her everywhere and lower her core temperature.

She got out, pulled on the shirt again, and stepped out onto the deck, enjoying the feel of the cool, night breeze on her shower damp skin. She could hear the gentle waves breaking on the shore and walked around to the main part of the deck, sitting down where she'd eaten breakfast with Duncan before the disastrous shopping trip with Nancy.

What was she doing here? Living in the house of a rock star, having sex dreams about him, shopping for clothes with his money so she could continue to do so and work on her novel?

God, it sounded like the plot of a B movie.

Reed sighed and went back to her room, both hoping and not hoping that she wouldn't have another dream about Duncan.

She didn't, and managed to sleep through until morning, by which time the immediacy of the dream had faded, and she felt like she could face Duncan and not melt into a puddle of embarrassment. The dream would be hers alone.

Of course, the scorching kiss had been shared. She wondered how he'd be towards her. And how she should be.

"Morning, love," Duncan called. "You ready get your creative on?" He held out a mug of coffee, just the way she liked it, leaning in to press a kiss to her hair.

Affectionate friendliness it was to be, then.

Okay, Reed could work with that. She leaned into the kiss as she accepted the coffee.

For his part, Duncan could hardly keep the smile off his face at the sight of Reed in the same old shirt again as she took an appreciative sip of the coffee. "You know, I'm starting to really like seeing you in my old shirt," he told her as they went out to the deck to enjoy the morning. "You look quite fetching in it."

"Really? Are you fetched?"

Duncan nodded. "I'm very, very fetched," he told her firmly. He could see the slight blush creeping out of the neck of the shirt, and wondered if he should've said anything. Apparently she wasn't used to getting compliments on her appearance.

They sat and drank their morning drinks in silence, looking out at the ocean.

"You know, it's nice that you don't feel the need to fill every moment with talking," Duncan said after a few minutes.

"Is it? I've been told that I'm too quiet, that I don't let people know what I'm thinking often enough," Reed told him.

"Well, most of the women I'm with seem to think that every moment they're with me is like a performance, or at least an audition," Duncan said. "It's exhausting. The fact is that if I'm spending time with you, under whatever circumstances, it's because I want to, so there's no need to try so bloody hard, yeah?"

Reed nodded. It had never occurred to her that she needed to impress the man next to her. What would be the point?

They went to their showers, and again, Duncan watched her go, for whatever reason finding the sight of her in his "Fuck the Monarchy" shirt so incredibly alluring. Of course, he knew that this was a thing, that men had been in love with seeing women in their clothing since time immemorial, but he hadn't realized that he would be susceptible to something so cliche.

They met in his office at the appointed time, with Reed looking around curiously. It was a bright, sunny room, taking up a corner of the house, so it had a view of the beach and a beautiful bougainvillea in riotous bloom. There was indeed a spacious desk, a comfortable looking sofa, a large, squashy chair, a sound system, and some bookshelves. A low table sat in front of the sofa. A small refrigerator stood in the corner, and Duncan opened it to show Reed that it was filled with bottles of water, to save anyone a trip to the kitchen.

Reed sat down at the desk and opened up her laptop, as Duncan sat on the sofa, holding his guitar, spreading open a notebook and his own laptop on the table in front of him.

"Do you need music when you work?" Duncan asked. "It just occurred to me, I'm sorry. Because obviously it's very difficult for me to work if I can hear music."

Reed shook her head. "Actually, if I'm listening to music with words while I write, I end up typing the words in the songs into my writing, have you ever heard anything so stupid?" She laughed at herself.

So they began, and Reed found that it was pleasant to hear Duncan noodling on his guitar, making notations in his notebook from time to time, entering things on his laptop.

And Duncan enjoyed hearing Reed tapping away on her laptop, knowing that she was a few feet away, working on her novel. He even found himself wondering from time to time what she was writing, what words were pouring out of her mind and onto her screen.

He heard her sigh and looked over to see her staring at her screen, her face in a pout. She had no idea he was watching, and she blew air up by pushing her bottom lip out, ruffing the short hairs on her forehead that had escaped her ponytail. She glowered reproachfully at her screen and held down what Duncan could only assume was the delete key, erasing whatever she'd recently written.

"What's wrong, then?" he asked, rising and walking behind the desk to look at her work. He bent down to peer over her shoulder.

"Oh no, no, please, I don't like people to look at my work," Reed begged, putting her hands over the screen.

"Come on, love, you nearly ran me over with your car," Duncan objected. "You're wearing my clothes. Surely I can read your words?" He turned to look at her. "Why? Is it at a naughty bit? Is some serious bodice ripping going on?"

Reed let out a breath and shook her head. "No, it's not that, it's just—" she turned to look at him as well, not realizing how close his face was in this position.

Duncan looked at her face. In this light, her skin was nearly translucent, without flaw, her eyes clear and lustrous. She wore no makeup; why would she? He could see the tips of her straight, white teeth, and her full lips, the color of ripe raspberries. And he could smell her, the clean, fresh smell of soap and shampoo.

Wow.

"Well, don't we look cozy?"

Duncan and Reed both jumped at the unexpected voice and looked toward the sound.

Nancy stood in the doorway, wearing a pretty yellow minidress with daisies all over it and white strappy sandals, looking very Gidget.

Duncan stepped away from Reed, asking, "What are you doing here? I didn't realize we had anything going on today."

Nancy shook her head as she entered the room, holding aloft a bag from a well-known Los Angeles department store. "I was out doing a little shopping, and I saw something that I thought would fit Reed here, so I bought it on a whim and brought it over." She looked back and forth between Reed and Duncan curiously, eyebrow raised. "I didn't know I'd be interrupting anything."

"You're not," Duncan said. "We're just getting a little work done, is all."

"Oh, good." Nancy held the bag out to Reed.

She rose unwillingly from behind the desk to accept it, murmuring thanks. "How much to I owe you?"

"Oh no," Nancy protested. "It's a gift, from me to you. I feel like we might have gotten off on the wrong foot yesterday, so think of it as a sort of peace offering.

"Well, aren't you going to open it?" Nancy continued as Reed just stood holding the bag. She sat on the edge of the sofa expectantly.

Reed opened the bag and pulled out an extraordinarily shapeless garment in an unpleasant shade of brown.

"What is it?" Duncan asked.

"It's a sweater dress, of course," Nancy exclaimed, shaking her head and rolling her eyes at Reed as if they shared a joke at Duncan's expense. "I saw it and thought of you immediately." She stopped as if struck by a thought. "It is the right size, isn't it?"

Reluctantly, Reed checked the tag and nodded. "Maybe a little big," she said.

"That's not a problem, though, is it?" Nancy responded with a titter. "Not like if it were a little small?"

Reed shook her head, still holding the dress. She swallowed, blinking quickly.

"Go try it on," Nancy urged. "Put on a little fashion show for us." She settled back on the sofa, patting the spot next to her while looking at Duncan expectantly.

"I'd rather not," Reed said. She dropped the dress back in the bag. "I was at a pretty important spot in my writing when you came in. That's what I was showing Duncan, actually, and if I leave it for too long, I'll lose the thread. I hope you understand." She walked back to her place behind the desk and sat down, her back ramrod straight. "Thank you for the beautiful dress, though, it was very thoughtful of you."

Duncan looked at Nancy with the beginnings of a smile as he, too ignored her hand and went behind the desk to stand next to Reed. "Yeah, show me that bit again, love?"

Nancy looked at the two of them, eyes narrowed. "Well, I guess I won't stay, then. And you're welcome, it was my pleasure." She turned with a flick of her short skirt and was gone.

Duncan and Reed were silent for long moments; then, when they heard the front door close, far away, Reed slouched, the iron leaving her spine. She put her elbows on the desk and her face in her hands.

"I'm so sorry, love, she can be a right stroppy cunt sometimes," Duncan said, putting an arm around Reed's shoulders.

Reed shook her head and lifted it to look at Duncan out of limpid eyes. "No, it's okay, really. I just want to know, is that how people see me? That hideous dress? That huge, shapeless thing? Do you look at me and see that?"

Duncan looked back at her and shook his head. "I think you're absolutely beautiful, honest," he said sincerely.

She leaned her forehead against his. "Thank you."