10. James

James

PRESENT DAY - TWO WEEKS LATER

M y hand braces against the shower wall as I fist my cock, fantasising about a fictional woman. For the last few weeks, I've had the same recurring dream—I'm a prince, she's a cheeky woman who knows it's a dream and refuses to play the part. Tasting her while she was spread wide for me on a piano, fucking her against a wall because I couldn't wait another moment to be inside her… her screaming my name. Every night, it's the same.

I've tried dating, watching porn, anything to think of any other woman but Anna.

Nothing works.

Stroking faster, I finally find my release, painting the wall with my cum. The hot water beats down on me as I catch my breath, her name spilling from my lips. What I wouldn't give for her to be real.

This is outright insanity .

I detach the showerhead to spray off my cum, disappointed yet again that I'm only able to think of her. She consumes my every waking thought and my dreams.

Shutting off the water, I step out of the shower and dry off. As I lift my gaze, finding my reflection in the fogged mirror, I don't recognize the man staring back at me.

I can't keep doing this…

With only a few minutes to spare, I manage to get dressed and have a quick bite for breakfast. I've missed the train every day for the last two weeks since the dreams began, and I refuse to miss it today.

I rush to the station right as the train pulls up. The doors open, and I find a few empty seats, including one next to a brunette woman with green plastic-rimmed glasses, focused on her e-reader. I sit next to her, and a few minutes into the ride, she sucks in a breath and I can't help glancing over, curious at what she's reading.

"It's just a pussy, James," she laughs, but it feels like a song tugging at my soul.

Kissing the inside of her thigh, I whisper, "It's mine now."

I do a double take. The same words from my recurring dream dance across the screen. "Excuse me, what book is that?" The woman fumbles her device, which falls to the ground. I reach for it, handing it back to her. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. It looked familiar, and I wasn't able to place the title." The lie slips from my lips too easily .

"Undeclared Heir. It's, um… women's fiction , definitely not inappropriate for a train commute," she insists, adjusting her glasses.

I take out my phone and search for the title.

I don't read for pleasure, only the occasional biography. But I'll make an exception if it helps me stop dreaming about Anna. Scrolling through the links, I click on the first item in the search and begin reading.

Undeclared Heir, Second Edition

...first edition featuring Eliza. The second edition includes a new character, Anna Thompson, as James' love interest…

None of this makes sense. I've never read this book, but my dream has somehow made its way onto the pages… I must've heard about the story before now and it remained hidden in my subconscious. It's the only logical explanation.

I shrug away the coincidence as I arrive at my stop. Quickly exiting the train, I take the steps to the next platform two at a time. When I reach the top, I take the corner too fast, colliding with another commuter. "I'm sorry, I?—"

Time stops. I feel a zing course through my body. The air crackles between us. My breath hitches…

Her beautiful brown eyes stare back at me with far too much recognition to ignore. The same eyes that have haunted me for weeks.

" Anna? "

The story continues in Act II, Undecided Heiress .