CHAPTER 13:WHAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF.

MAYA

As the morning sun burst into the room, its bright rays dancing across the space, Maya stirred, slowly emerging from the haze of sleep. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the warm light, and glanced around, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. But as she tried to recall the events of the previous night, her mind drew a blank. Confusion etched on her face, she assumed she must still be asleep, lost in one of those rare, lucid dreams that felt almost real.

And that's when she saw him - Andrew, lying beside her, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling with each gentle breath. In her dreams, Andrew often appeared, but he never stayed long enough for her to speak to him, to connect with him. He'd vanish, leaving her with a lingering sense of longing. But this dream felt different. The air was thick with an almost palpable sense of intimacy, and Andrew's presence felt more real than ever before. Maya's heart skipped a beat as she realized that, in this dream, Andrew was holding her, his arms wrapped protectively around her as if she meant everything to him.

In the vivid dream, Maya gazed at Andrew, mesmerized by the peaceful rise and fall of his chest as he slept soundly, his arms wrapped protectively around her. Her cheeks flushed a deep scarlet as her eyes wandered, lingering on the contours of his bare chest. She had often fantasized about what it would be like to see Andrew shirtless, to touch his skin, and now, in this dream, she was practically pressed against him.

The intimacy of the moment took her breath away, surpassing every fantasy she'd ever had about him. This was the closest she'd ever come to Andrew, and she felt like she could die a happy woman now. A soft, dreamy sigh escaped her lips as she hummed in contentment.

"Hmmm..." She forced her eyes to remain closed, afraid to open them and shatter the illusion. Once she did, she'd be thrust back into reality, forced to confront the cold, hard truth: Andrew didn't feel the same way. The thought was too painful to bear, so she lingered in the dream, savoring the fleeting sensation of being in Andrew's arms.

Maya's quiet giggles filled the air as she playfully poked Andrew's toned abdomen, her fingers dancing across his skin. Dream Andrew's reaction was adorable - he scrunched up his nose, reminding her of a cute, fluffy bunny. Entranced, Maya continued to tease him, her pokes becoming more gentle and affectionate.

In this dream, Andrew was unrecognizable from the real-life version. Gone was the arrogant smirk that made her want to...well, both kiss and smack him, simultaneously! Instead, dream Andrew was all vulnerability and charm, his usual defenses stripped away, leaving him endearingly exposed. Maya's heart swelled with affection for this fictional version of Andrew, and she reveled in the freedom to express her feelings without fear of rejection or ridicule.

As Maya continued to poke Andrew's cheeks and abs, she became enveloped in the intoxicating scent that was uniquely his. It was a heady aroma that made her feel lightheaded and giddy. Andrew stirred in his sleep, his arms tightening around her, refusing to let her go. Maya felt a deep sense of comfort and security in his warm embrace, her messy curls finding a perfect resting place against his broad chest.

Her eyes wandered, and she couldn't help but drool at the sight of his chiseled six-pack abs. But then, a mischievous idea struck her. With a sly smile, Maya slowly pulled away from Andrew's embrace, her head shifting to his face, where his right ear beckoned. She nibbled on it slowly, her teeth grazing his skin, and Andrew let out a low, husky moan. The sound sent shivers down Maya's spine, and she felt a thrill of excitement at the realization that she had the power to elicit such a response from him.

Maya's eyes widened in astonishment as the sound of Andrew's moan resonated through her entire being. It was a deep, throaty, and unapologetically masculine sound that left her breathless. She felt like she was floating on cloud nine, her heart racing with excitement.

The moan was like music to her ears, the sexiest sound she'd ever had the pleasure of hearing.

As she gazed at Andrew, watching him take slow, labored breaths, Maya's boldness gave way to shyness. Her cheeks flushed, and she felt a flutter in her chest. Yet, her curiosity got the better of her, and she decided to test the waters again. As she nibbled on his ear once more, Andrew's response was immediate. He moaned again, the sound sending shivers down Maya's spine.

This time, however, his reaction was more intense. His grip around her waist tightened, pulling her closer. Maya felt a surge of pride knowing that she had the power to elicit such a strong response from him, even if it was just a dream. The knowledge was intoxicating, and she reveled in the sensation of being desired.

Maya's eyes sparkled with amusement as she thought to herself, Someone's a little sensitive about the ears, huh? She beamed with delight, her excitement growing as she applied a bit more pressure to nibbling Andrew's earlobe. Dream Andrew's response was immediate, his sleep-addled brain struggling to form coherent words.

"No, d...don't! Not the...ear, sensitive there," he stuttered, his voice husky with sleep and pleasure.

Maya's grin widened as she realized that Andrew's groans weren't ones of pain but of pleasure. This dream just kept getting better and better! Maya was practically bouncing with excitement, her heart racing with anticipation.

"Shh, dream Andrew," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "You're not supposed to talk." She was so caught up in the fantasy that she found herself pleading with the universe to let her have this one, perfect dream. Whoever was in charge of dreams, please, just let me have this one steamy, unforgettable night with Andrew.

Maya glared defensively as if daring anyone to criticize her. "Don't look at me with those judge-y eyes, okay? What dream Andrew doesn't know won't hurt him, alright?" She continued to tease Andrew, her fingers dancing across his skin, and he let out a loud groan. His grip on her waist relaxed, and he used one hand to gently but firmly move her face away from his ear.

"That tickles, sweetheart," Andrew said, his voice lazy and husky, as he yawned and rubbed his free hand over his face. Maya's eyes snapped wide open, and she sprang up from the bed, landing hard on the floor with a painful thud.

"Ouch!" she yelped, rubbing her sore backside as she stared up at Andrew in shock. The realization dawned on her: this wasn't a dream. Andrew was real, and he was lying in bed with her, looking at her with a mixture of amusement and confusion.

"That did not feel like a dream!" Maya whispered to herself, her voice trembling with realization. As she gazed around the unfamiliar room, the truth finally dawned on her: she wasn't dreaming.

The events of the past few minutes came crashing down on her like a ton of bricks, and she felt her face burn with embarrassment. She buried her face in her hands, groaning in mortification.

Oh, the horror! Everything she'd done, every intimate moment she'd shared with Andrew, had been real. The weight of her actions was crushing, and she couldn't bear to face him. Just then, Andrew's amused voice cut through her anguish.

"You alright down there, tipsy? That was quite the fall." Maya's embarrassment deepened, and she peeked through her fingers, her eyes meeting Andrew's. He was grinning at her, his eyes sparkling with mirth, and Maya's face burned even hotter with shame.

Andrew's thick, early-morning British accent was like a splash of cold water, jolting Maya back to reality. She struggled to recall the events that had led them to this moment, but her mind was a frustrating blank. Her groans of frustration grew louder, and Andrew's amused gaze only added to her discomfort.

Then, like a spark of electricity, a memory flashed through her mind. "Wait, did you just call me tipsy?" she asked, her voice laced with indignation. But before Andrew could respond, the fog began to clear, and Maya's memories started to resurface.

Oh no, no, no! She remembered trying to escape from her father's watchful eye the previous night, and how Andrew had inadvertently helped her. Then, she got into her car and drove to the bar, desperate for a drink to calm her frazzled nerves. But what had happened after that? The memories lingered just out of reach, taunting her with their elusiveness.

Maya's eyes widened in alarm as she scrambled to piece together the events of the previous night. Oh, my goodness, fuck me! She exclaimed in her mind. "What happened afterward? I don't remember a thing!" She glared at Andrew, demanding answers. "What happened last night, and where the hell are we?"

Her gaze drifted to Andrew's bare chest, and she felt her breath catch in her throat. "And where the hell is your freaking shirt?" she asked, trying to sound indignant despite the flutter in her chest. Andrew's response was a smirk, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"I think you already know the answer to that question, sweetheart," he said, winking at her.

Maya's scowl deepened, her patience wearing thin. She was in no mood for Andrew's games, and his smug expression only fueled her irritation. "Cut the crap, Andrew," she snapped, her voice firm. "I'm not in the mood for your silly antics. Just tell me what happened last night."

Andrew's voice was laced with mock innocence as he said, "Oh, don't be like that, darling. You're going to hurt my feelings scowling like that." He made an exaggerated "I cross my heart" gesture over his chest, his eyes sparkling with amusement. As he settled back into the bed, Maya's gaze involuntarily followed the movement of his hand, and Andrew's smirk grew wider, his knowing look making her cheeks flush.

"It was a mistake," Maya whispered shakily, her voice barely audible. Andrew's teasing inquiry was like a dagger to her heart.

"What was that, sweetheart? I didn't quite catch that!" He leaned forward, his eyes glinting with mischief, and Maya felt her face grow hotter with embarrassment. She knew she had to clarify, to make him understand that whatever had happened between them was a mistake, but her voice caught in her throat, and she couldn't bring herself to repeat the words.

"I said whatever happened between us last night was a mistake!" Maya yelled, her voice laced with panic as she frantically grabbed her phone and jacket from the nightstand. She dashed out of the room, slamming the door behind her with a resounding crash. Leaning against the door, she breathed heavily, her chest heaving with exertion.

With trembling hands, Maya turned on her phone, the screen lighting up with a soft glow. She dialed a number she knew by heart, her fingers shaking as she waited for the call to connect. When the ringing stopped, and a sleepy yet worried voice answered, Maya felt a wave of relief wash over her.

"Maya, is that you?" Hossein's voice was laced with concern, and Maya's composure cracked.

"Please come get me," she whispered, her voice cracking as she struggled to hold back tears. A quiet sob escaped her lips, and she felt a hot tear roll down her cheek as she waited for Hossein's response.