It was my worst nightmare. The man of my wildest dreams had come into my life and I didn’t have clue as to what to do with him. My words didn’t come out right. No matter what I said, I couldn’t affect the look on his face. No smiling, no grinning at my jokes.
And it wasn’t as if I hadn’t been practicing–in my night dreams and in m daydreams–what to do with him. Goodness knows, I’d done enough in real life, my waking love life, to practice for this guy. And here he was. I just didn’t know what to do with him.
Then things got worse.
“What do you want?” he asked me, in just the deep silky voice I remembered.
But I couldn’t remember what to say. Or maybe in my wildest dreams I never said anything and what he did next had always been a blur. It was always wonderful; I knew it afterward. Though I couldn’t actually remember any details.
I wanted him doing things to me, but I couldn’t remember what those things were. And because I couldn’t tell him, he faded away–my worst nightmare.