Instead of leaping onto the bed and raping her, he held out his hand. “Guess we'd better get to know each other if we're dreaming together."

His hand was big. The nails were short and his fingers looked pink and scrubbed. Cassandra took his hand and shook it as if it were the tail of a rabid raccoon she thought was going to spin around and bite her at any moment. Despite her fear, it felt warm and welcoming.

Beau smiled. “What's your name?"

If it was a dream, it probably wouldn't do any harm. “Cassandra."

"Hi there, Cassandra.” He sat down on the bed beside her. Cassie tried not to breathe too much, but she couldn't help noticing that he smelled of soap and something minty, like gum. “Do you think we should go have a look around this place and see where the hell we are?"

"I don't know.” Something occurred to her. “How did you make the door happen?"

As soon as she said it she realized it was a bizarre question, but Beau just nodded and shrugged.

“Dunno,” he said. “I thought of there being a door and there it was, and there you were."

"That's weird."

"Yup."

"Maybe it's just a coincidence."

"Maybe."

"Do you remember how you got here?"

"Nope. Last thing I remember I'd just beat my brother at poker and I was watching a rerun of Wheel of Fortune . That's why I thought it was a flashback. The spinning lights can do that to ya."

Cassandra nodded, though she wasn't sure what he was talking about. “Maybe you're right, we should go and look around and figure out where we are."

"Can't hurt,” Beau said amiably. He stood up and offered her his hand again, presumably to help her off the bed. Flustered, she ignored it and slid off the bed by herself. Her bathrobe rode up her legs and she tugged it back down before she stood up. When she looked at him, Beau's gaze was on her bare legs where she'd just covered them, and she blushed.

"Uh,” he said, and ran his hand through his long brown hair. “I guess we'd better start with that door.”

He went to it, still open in the carpeted wall, and waited for her to join him.

Well, if he was going to rape her, it seemed like he'd have done it when they were sitting on the bed together. And really she might as well see what this dream was all about before she woke up. She joined him at the door and they walked out into the corridor together.

It looked like a hotel corridor: long, papered in beige, with sunken lighting and tastefully patterned carpet. Soft music piped in. They walked down the hallway in silence, their footfalls muffled by the carpet. Beau's legs were much longer than Cassandra's, but he walked slowly to keep pace with her, and she could smell the clean scent of his hair.

The hallway ended in a single white door. It had a gold handle.

"I guess this is it,” Beau said and he reached out and twisted the knob. Even though Cassandra knew this wasn't real, she still held her breath with trepidation as he opened the door.

The vast room beyond was lit with a dim blue light. It seemed to be coming from a large transparent blue tube in the centre of the room that stretched from the floor upwards toward a distant ceiling. The walls of the room were invisible, shadowy and too far away to perceive.

"Cool,” said Beau appreciatively and he stepped inside the room. Cassandra followed him, looking down at their shadows, cast long by the light from the hallway behind them.

And then their shadows disappeared along with the light.

Cassandra whirled around. There was nothing behind them but darkness. The door was gone.

"Beau—” she started.

She felt his hand curl around hers. She blinked, and tensed, and the world dissolved around her and then reformed.

They were inside the blue tube. She held out her hand and knocked on the wall of it. It felt like some kind of strong, thick glass. There wasn't a light source; the walls themselves seemed to be glowing.

"What's going on?” she asked. Beau was close beside her. The tube wasn't that wide, but there was enough room for them to stand and move around a little bit.

"Beats me."

There was a noise, something like a vent opening, and a rush of air. She felt something warm whoosh over her skin and breathed in a smell that seemed familiar somehow. Appealing, exciting.

Heat flushed through her body. But it wasn't like any heat she'd ever felt before—not like the warmth from sunshine, or an open fire. It came from deep inside her and radiated from her center into her limbs, making her fingers tingle, her breasts feel heavy, her belly melting, sending a pure sizzling lightning bolt between her legs.

"Oh my,” she gasped.

She heard a deep growly sound from next to her and realized it was Beau. She felt Beau like a magnet beside her. She could hear his breathing, hear his heart, feel him warm and big and alive beside her, and she suddenly felt more hungry than she'd ever been in her life.

But not hungry for food. Hungry for him. For Beau.

She turned to look at him and God, he looked good. Tall and strong and handsome. There was a dark light in his blue eyes.

He looked as ravenous as she was.

His tongue moistened his lips and her gaze stuck on his mouth. His lips were full, his tongue pink and wet, and there was nothing in the world she wanted to do more than to kiss him.

She had to kiss him. She didn't care if he was a stranger, or that she didn't know where they were. She licked her own lips and imagined tasting him there already. It was maddening, tempting, irresistible.

She stepped forward and he met her halfway, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her tight against his hard body. When their mouths met it sent another shock down her spine, and she actually felt her crotch dampen, felt the lips of her sex swell inside her underwear.

She would have blushed if it didn't feel so wonderful. Her nipples were hard and rubbed against him through the layers of silk she wore, begging for his touch.

His lips were soft and warm, and right away they opened, coaxing hers open too. His tongue traced her lips and dipped inside her mouth, filling her with his masculine taste, and Cassie knew that this wasn't all she wanted.

She wanted him. All of him. Inside her. His hands on her naked skin, his—his penis. Inside her vagina.

This time, she did blush.

"What's happening?” she whispered, between kisses. Normally she wouldn't talk and kiss at the same time. But she didn't seem to be able to stop, even to find out what was going on. His mouth was too delicious and his body too exciting.

"I don't know,” he murmured back to her. His voice vibrated against her chest where she was pressed against him, and his facial hair tickled her chin. “But I like it."

Should she like it, too? She couldn't be sure; her body's demands were too strong. She couldn't stop to think. She didn't want to. She groaned and pressed herself against him still closer, sucking his tongue into her mouth and biting on his lower lip. She grabbed the front of his leather jacket and pulled him to her as hard as she could, arching her body up into his.

She heard Beau moan and then she felt his hands pushing at her robe, then on her breasts through her nightgown. His fingers tweaked her nipples and she cried out, unprepared for the sensations that zinged the entire length of her body.

"Dang,” he muttered roughly and with a single, swift movement he grasped the neck of her nightie and ripped it open to her waist.

"What are you—” She barely had time to gasp half the question before his lips were at her breast, sucking her nipple deep into his hot mouth, his hand clamped around her.