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Summary
Victoria’s face burns. Every inch of her burns. She can’t make herself say anything but Trinity is unrelenting, staring at her with those too-green eyes, and she tumbles to pieces spectacularly. Her voice drops, only barely above a whisper. “I had a dream about you.”
Trinity’s expression shifts instantaneously. Her gaze goes distinctly knowing and it only makes Victoria want to squirm even more than she already is. It’s all so humiliating, so mortifying, so why is the same heat that she had been overcome by this morning starting to build inside of her again? “What kind of dream, Crash?”
Victoria shifts her weight from one foot to the other, fixes her gaze directly at the piece of wall that appears above Trinity’s right shoulder. “You know what kind of dream.”
“I think I need to hear you say it.” Trinity uses a finger to tilt Victoria’s head up slightly, forcing direct eye contact once again. Victoria would probably feel more nervous if Trinity didn’t sound so deeply pleased with this revelation. “Did you have a sex dream about me, Victoria Javadi?”