“Yes you do. I’d say over the last few weeks we’ve gotten to know each other extremely well.”
Her nails dug into his chest as her fingers curled. Wasn’t that the rub of it? She did know him. Technically—in her dreams, at least—they’d already gone past second base with a speedy rush for third.
“Remember the first time we met?” She trembled when his lips feathered over her forehead, the heat of his mouth warming her skin. “You were so nervous and tried to run from me. I thought you knew who and what I was to you. If I’d have known why you were scared I would have handled things differently.”
Memories assailed her, of the first time she’d met him in the land of dreams. It had been inside a bar. She’d found it odd, since she’d never been to a bar and had only seen them on television. He’d been leaning against a wall, as though he’d been waiting for her. She hadn’t been able see his face. Not that it mattered. She remembered the way her heart had pounded, how panic had set in even though she’d known it was only a dream.
She’d tried to run only to have her dream shift to another time and place.
This time she’d found herself in a sunny park. Empty swings had swayed back and forth, a sandbox nearby occupied with rambunctious toddlers and their doting parents. Jackson had been there as well, crouched a few feet away, studying her. He’d seemed so out of place, like a lethal creature in a safe haven parents took their children to play. When he started to stand, she’d jolted awake, but from that moment forward her dreams had never been the same.
He’d chased her night after night, a sexual game of cat and mouse. When he’d finally caught her—on the dance floor of the bar she’d fled, ironically enough—she’d been a more than willing victim. She recalled dancing in his arms, the rhythm of the music guiding their bodies. There was no fear. It was as if she’d finally found someone who understood her. A man whose arms felt like home. Afterward she craved sleep just to be close to him, to feel his body pressed against hers.
“It was real, Chloe,” he said, the words rumbling from his chest. “All of it.”
All of it.
The first few dreams were somewhat tame—transpiring in places she refused to get totally down and dirty—but during the last one they’d been alone in a bedroom. For the first time they’d removed their clothing, stripping each other bare. Instead of feeling his muscles bulge beneath her fingers, she’d finally seen them. He had been—and still remained—the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. His large body was perfectly proportioned, his skin tan and smooth. She’d gone down on him because she couldn’t resist anymore. The temptation he’d presented had been too powerful to shake. She’d never forget his taste. The way he stretched her lips as he glided in and out of her mouth.
Her pussy spasmed at the memory, creating more wetness between her legs.
Damn it.
Her panties were soaking wet, clinging to swollen vaginal lips.
“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you? It felt so good when you sucked my cock. Your mouth was so hot, baby. I want to look you in the eyes next time. I want to see how turned-on you are when you’re sucking me off.”
Holy mother.
In her dreams Jackson had loved to talk dirty. It had taken a few dreams to become accustomed to his explicit sexual vocalizations but she’d managed. A good thing since he apparently enjoyed doing the same thing in reality.
“I’m thinking about it,” she admitted, caving to her body’s demands since she already had one foot in the door. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
Or about you and your promise to do the same to me.
After two nights of waiting for Jackson to appear in her dreams, her curiosity about what it would be like had gotten the better of her. She’d hesitantly touched herself in the shower, imagining it was Jackson’s tongue caressing her clit, his mouth suckling on her flesh. Unfortunately she’d stopped just shy of an orgasm, becoming uncomfortably aware of herself and what she was doing. She’d stopped, feeling embarrassed and uncertain. One foray into masturbation had taken her back several years, to another time and place.
At seventeen she’d had one sexual encounter—a rushed pairing with an equally awkward boy from her English class. They’d parted ways immediately after, avoiding each other if at all possible. She didn’t know if he was embarrassed by his performance or didn’t want a repeat of hers. Either way it didn’t matter. His touch had felt all wrong, even when she tried to relax and enjoy what they were doing. From that moment forward she wasn’t interested in sex or men.
Then Jackson had come along and changed everything.
Each wisp of his fingers against her sensitive skin made her melt inside, creating tendrils of heat that built in her stomach. She lifted her head, meeting his glowing eyes. A simple look from the man made her insides puddle. There was nothing insecure or awkward about Jackson. He knew exactly what he wanted and how he wanted it.
And she realized she wanted him to take it from her.
“Here’s what’s going to happen.” His body brushed hers. She felt the hard length of his erection prod her belly. “I’m going to take you to my room and make you burn. I’m going to make you so hot you’ll think you’re dying from the pleasure of it. This isn’t a dream. You’re going to get all of me, Chloe. All of me.”
Oh boy.
She tried to argue when he cut her off, his fingers sliding from her chin and latching on to the hair at her nape. He pulled her head back, maintaining eye contact.
“We’ll sort the details out later. I’m tired of keeping my hands to myself.”
Then he kissed her, lips soft but demanding, his tongue lashing out to tease the cavern of her mouth. It shouldn’t have been possible to swoon but swoon she did. Her knees buckled, the warmth from his body seeping into hers. His hand drifted down and he palmed her ass, squeezing just hard enough that she groaned. She’d forgotten what a master he was with his fingers, how expertly he put them to use.
“So sweet and hot,” he growled into her mouth, yanking her forward and rolling his hips, making the world crumble around her. “And all fucking mine.”
He’d tried to do the right thing. Chloe deserved answers, not the mindless fucking he had in mind. The beautiful female was confused. She was scared. But she was also turned-on. Hell, she’d been turned-on since the moment their skin had collided. Her scent called to him as no other’s had. Tomorrow he could tell her everything she wanted to know. For now he had to calm her fears and show her he would take care of her, regardless of the cost.
He basked in her taste—sweet as sugar and tempting as sin. Her soft curves molded to him, her rounded ass the perfect size for his hand. She whimpered as he squeezed the giving flesh, his fingers digging into her jeans. Tugging her forward, he thrust his cock against her stomach and rolled his hips. The beast in him wanted to yank down her pants, force her onto her hands and knees and fuck her madly from behind.
Not yet.
She yelped when he lifted her and carried her in the direction of the bedroom. He caught the sound in his mouth, growling in pleasure as her surprise turned to hunger. Her lips parted and their tongues danced—touching, teasing and drifting apart. He’d be lucky if he didn’t come with his first taste of her, undone by the sweetness of her pussy as he lapped at her slit. He could smell her—hot, honeyed and primed for the taking.
They entered his bedroom and he headed for the bed. He carefully lowered her to the mattress, bringing his body over hers, forcing her knees apart so he could slide his hips between her thighs. He could feel the heat of her cunt through his jeans. The scent of her arousal tickled his nose. The white glow from the moon slithered through the curtains and caressed her face, the shadows on the bed a combination of black and gray. Her irises changed color, shifting from grassy green to vibrant emerald in the light.