“Just tell me,” he whispers.
You can barely hear him over the sound of your blood beating in your ears. “Tell you what?” you whisper back.
“How you like it,” he responds, pressing his lips against the pulse in your neck.
You swallow; this can’t be happening your brain starts in. Shut it, your body yells back, your heart is in agreement with your body; two against one, you shut your brain off.
“Noona,” he groans as he crushes your mouth with his. Just as your hands tangle in his hair,
You roll over with a groan and slam your alarm clock.
Shit! You smother your face in your pillows, why? Why are you having that dream again? Damn your hormones need to be in check before you show up to work today and see him. Wouldn’t that be a laugh at your expense? The poor noona, crushing on the sexy idol.
You shake your head to get the images from the dream out of your head. You end up smacking yourself, not just the images, but the sensations won’t leave either. A cold sweat sets in as you remember how real that dream felt. Fine, cold shower it is this morning.
When you arrive at work, everyone greets you with enthusiasm. Some of the members come over and give you hugs, including your dream boy. You smile and reciprocate, but he pulls back. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just a bad dream,” you lie and turn away. “Alright guys, ready to take it from the top?”
He stays there staring at you for just a minute more, but gets dragged away to be in place when the music starts. You take your place in front and deliberately look at the wall in the back. You’re going to have to focus on his dance moves in a minute. Better to keep it professional and avoid the eyes in the mirror trying to get your attention.