With Everything I Am (The Three #2)(13)

She watched with great anticipation as the tiger’s eye shot from his pupils and erased the blue of the iris.

She’d never seen the gold obliterate the blue so fast.

But she knew what that meant.

Then his arm sliced around her, his h*ps and legs shifted and his heat and colossal weight were pinning her to the bed.

Finally!

Then something weird happened.

He didn’t tease her.

He didn’t let her wrap her limbs around him.

He didn’t wait for her invitation.

He slanted his head and he kissed her.

Ho.

Lee.

Cow!

Sonia absolutely loved this dream!

Her mouth opened under his and that was it.

Explosion.

Not gentle.

Huge.

And consuming.

She was wrong. He didn’t need just to be there for her to be ready for him.

His kiss, his unbelievably amazing kiss, sent her from aroused at his presence to burning for his invasion.

She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back, hoping to all that was holy that he felt the same beautiful explosion.

He had to, for the minute her tongue sparred with his, his growl filled her mouth and was so intense it traveled down her throat.

That felt even better.

She arched against him and moaned right back.

His arms circled her and he rolled, taking her with him, her on top, his hands going into her hair at the sides of her head, holding it away from their faces but there was so much of it, it tumbled down all around them.

And he kept kissing her and Sonia hoped this dream and his kiss never ended.

Ever.

His knee came up, her legs parted, one thigh falling between his and his cocked leg landed tight against the heat of her.

Sonia’s head jerked back, her mouth slowly opening in a silent moan as she felt it. The tight, hard muscle pressing powerfully against her most sensitive part.

Good goodness, she nearly came.

Just with that.

She heard another growl, it seemed far away (but was very close) and he rolled again, this time into her. She took that opportunity to kiss him again and slide herself against his hard, jeans clad thigh.

Shivers of fire shafted through her and she clutched onto his shirt like she was never letting go.

His arms tightened around her but his mouth tore from hers and he growled, “Fucking hell, baby doll.”

“Don’t stop,” she begged, her voice sounding desperate because she was desperate, the dream could end at any minute. Her hand went into his hair to force his lips back to hers. “Please, don’t stop or the dream will end.”

She felt his body still and her insistent hand in his hair was getting her nowhere.

She opened her eyes and saw he was watching her.

“Don’t stop,” she pleaded.

“Sonia –”

The hand not at his head roamed, down, down, to drift over his behind. “I don’t want the dream to –”

She didn’t finish speaking because she heard a cell phone ringing just as she felt it vibrate against her hand.

Dreams didn’t have phones ringing.

Or, they did, but only to wake you up.

She waited.

It kept ringing.

It kept vibrating.

Sunlight, his warm hard body, his tight, strong arms, his heavy weight and that damn phone vibrating against her hand all intruded.

She wasn’t dreaming.

Sonia’s eyes, still locked with his, widened.

Memories flooded.

The intruders the night before.

Then he was there.

Then, her puppy.

No, that couldn’t be right, she was hallucinating.

But something had happened because he was right there.

How could she forget last night?

With a fearful noise escaping her throat, violently she tore from his arms and jumped from the bed.

Stopping several feet away, she whirled to stare at him.

Her dream man.

Now up on a forearm watching her closely from a bed in her parents’ cabin.

“This isn’t a dream,” she whispered.

But…

It had to be. This wasn’t possible.

“Come here, baby doll,” he murmured gently.

He called her “baby doll”.

She closed her eyes. Then she opened them.

“This isn’t a dream,” she repeated wanting him to tell her it was.

But he didn’t. He moved and her arm darted up, palm out but the rest of her body grew paralyzed with fear.

At this reaction, he stopped but her head jerked around.

This was her parents’ cabin. She knew it.

But it was different.

The kitchen was newer, grander. It had a huge KitchenAid refrigerator and range. The countertops were nicer. The cabinets were better.

Her head jerked the other way.

There was still a big, inviting, deep-seated couch in front of a coffee table which sat in front of a roaring fire. The couch was still flanked by comfortable club chairs. There was a large sheepskin hide tossed casually over the corner of the couch. The rug all the furniture sat on was vast, thick, inviting you to bed down on it with a pillow, a book and a nice, comfy blanket.

But the furniture was different, newer, fluffier, sturdier, more rustic. They veritably screamed, “Take a load off and stay awhile.”