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Unlike the first dream, this one didn’t end there, however. Instead, Justin rose up to stand between her legs like some victorious warrior, pulled her to sit upright on the edge of the table, then clasped her to his chest and kissed her as he thrust into her. Holly cried out into his mouth with that first hard thrust, and then wrapped her legs around his hips to urge him on as her excitement came screaming back to full-­blown life.

She let him pound into her half a dozen times, then unwrapped her legs and pushed him back. Smiling at his startled expression as he stumbled back a ­couple of steps, she slid off the table and turned to bend over it, then glanced over her shoulder at once.

“Witch,” Justin breathed as he stepped up behind her. Straightening, she ground her butt against him and tilted her head back in a silent demand for a kiss. The moment his mouth covered hers, she grabbed his hands and pulled them around to cover her breasts. He began squeezing and kneading them at once as he thrust his tongue into her mouth. When she broke the kiss and bent forward to brace herself on the table, he released her breasts to clasp her hips and thrust into her from behind. Then he bent to reach around and began caressing her as he continued to thrust into her, first fondling her breasts as he nibbled at her neck, and then as he picked up the pace of his thrusts, sliding one hand down between her legs to find the center of her excitement again.

Holly gasped and then cried out and slammed back into him hard as he pushed her over the edge into orgasm. Justin’s hand clenched on her hip and he thrust into her one last time, and then froze, crying out his release as well.

Holly stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel to dry herself, avoiding her own reflection in the mirror. She knew what she would see if she looked . . . accusation. She’d spent the entire night having one dream after another where she did things to Justin, and let him do things to her that no married woman should even think about doing with a man who wasn’t her husband. The worst part was, she hadn’t a clue why.

Sure, she thought the guy was good-­looking, and yes he was sweet with his flowers and his attempt to cook for her and such. But she didn’t even know the guy, not really. Besides, James was good-­looking and sweet too and not only did she know him, she had known him all her life . . . and they were married.

She really had no idea what had brought on the round of crazy monkey sex dreams. Outside the bathrooms of a nightclub? Where anyone might see them? In an open convertible in a parking lot, again where anyone might see them? Driving down the highway where any passing semi driver could glance down and see them? And on the kitchen table right here in this house where Dante, Tomasso, and Gia could have seen them? Sure, they had all been dreams, but still . . . who knew she had this streak of exhibitionism? She hadn’t known. She was pretty pedestrian when it came to sex. At least she had always been pretty pedestrian when it came to sex with James. It was usually in bed, lights out, and missionary position. She had never stopped him partway through, turned over and had him take her doggy style like she had with Justin. She’d never gone down on him in a moving vehicle either, or in a car at all, really.

But in her dreams she’d . . . well, she’d felt powerful and sexy and adventurous. She’d taken control instead of lying passively back, waiting for him to handle things. What did that mean?

Perhaps the sex in the dream hadn’t really represented sex at all, Holly thought suddenly as she finished drying herself and began to dress. Maybe the dreams had more to do with Justin’s efforts to woo her in front of the others. Anders and Decker knew about his determination that they were life mates. Gia had seen the flowers in her room, and Holly was sure Gia and the twins all knew about the aborted picnic attempt.

Perhaps the dreams were saying that Justin’s attempts at wooing her made her feel attractive and powerful. Perhaps her rebuffing him made her feel in control and even sexy. That kind of made a sort of sense, Holly supposed.

It also made it so that she didn’t have to admit that she was subconsciously lusting after Justin Bricker.

Holly grimaced at that thought and knew it was true. She’d thought the man was attractive from the start, but ever since he’d kissed her . . . She let her breath out slowly. Yes, she was lusting after Justin Bricker like a bitch in heat. She wanted to experience more of his kisses and enjoy his caresses for real, see if they felt as good in reality as they had in her dreams.

“Which is just too darned bad,” she told her reflection grimly. “You are a married woman, and a ­couple of hours of pleasure aren’t worth risking your marriage over. So get over it, concentrate on what you need to learn and get the heck out of here and home to your husband.”

Nodding in response to her own lecture, Holly did up the jeans she’d pulled on, then quickly tugged on a T-­shirt over her bra and smoothed it into place. She hadn’t gone wild on the clothes shopping. Gia had said to buy as much as she wanted, but she’d restricted herself to two pairs of jeans, a ­couple T-­shirts, a pair of black dress pants, a pair of blue dress pants, and a ­couple of blouses. Basically, she’d pretty much replaced the small wardrobe she’d owned prior to turning and becoming too small for her own clothes. It would do. Once she’d graduated and was working full-­time, she could buy more clothes, but she didn’t want to have to explain to James how she had come by a sudden wealth of clothes now.

After running a brush through her hair, Holly left her room and headed downstairs. She made it all the way to the hallway outside the kitchen door before her courage failed her. Pausing there, she bit her lip and told herself not to be a ninny. Justin would not be able to tell, just by looking at her, that she’d been dreaming of doing the nasty with his naked self all night.

“Dear God,” she muttered under her breath and pushed the door open to enter the room. At first, she thought it was empty, but then a rattle drew her attention to the refrigerator. Justin was standing in the open door, surveying the contents. He glanced over now and smiled at her.

“Good morning.”

Holly felt a shiver run down her back at his husky tone. It was the same pitch his voice had dropped into last night when he’d growled, “Say my name.”

Giving her head a shake, she managed a smile and moved nervously to the table. “Good morning.”

Good Lord, she sounded like a Victorian chick with the vapors, Holly thought with disgust as she heard her weak voice. Really? That was the best she could do? She couldn’t—­

Her self-­flagellation ended abruptly as Justin suddenly grabbed a can of whipped cream out of the refrigerator, tipped his head, aimed the spout into his mouth and shot some of the creamy foam onto his tongue just as she had done in her first dream last night. That had been just before he’d entered the room, and kissed her and then begun to—­

Holly cut that thought off quickly and forced her gaze away from him. “So, training,” she said in strained tones.

“Right.”

She braved a glance in his direction to see him returning the can to the refrigerator and felt herself relax a little. Good, the last thing she needed was to be thinking about what else he’d done with that whipped cream in her dreams . . . which she was doing now, she realized with dismay as her nipples began to tingle. She could vividly recall the feel of his tongue rasping across her nipples as he laved away every last drop of whipped cream and then—­

The refrigerator door slammed closed with a jingle of bottles and Holly jumped guiltily, then instinctively caught the bag of blood he tossed her.

Justin headed for the door to the garage, saying, “Actually, we’re going out today.”

“What?” Holly asked blankly. “Where?”

“To my parents’ place,” he responded, opening the door and then turning sideways for her to precede him out to the garage. “It’s Sunday. They’d never forgive me if I didn’t go see them while I’m in town.”