Dreaming of the Wolf (Heart of the Wolf #8)(31)

Scared, exhausted, and unsure of what to do, she stripped off her clothes, showered, and pulled on a slinky black nightgown covered in pink and yellow flowers. She collapsed in the hotel-room bed, intending to push all the worries out of her brain until she could think more clearly in the morning. And make some sound decisions about what she would do next.

Lying in the hotel bed, Alicia finally closed her eyes, unsure whether she would wake again in the form of a wolf or as herself. She gave a soft snort of disbelief and halfway wondered if Ferdinand’s blows to her head twice in one night were making her loopy. Or if he might have drugged her with something that was making her imagine stuff. Something like LSD. That in the morning everything would again be clear and she would realize it had all been a really bizarre nightmare. A total figment of her imagination. Except that it had seemed so real.

One thing was certain: Ferdinand was dead.

With all those thoughts running through her tired mind, she finally succumbed to sleep and dreamed like she’d never dreamt before.

With the hotel curtains shut tight, the bed covered in an orange floral spread, and prints on the walls of floral bouquets, Alicia dressed in a satiny black nightgown touching her ankles, with a slit up the side and spaghetti straps that bared her shoulders as she headed from the bathroom to the bed. But her attention was drawn to the sitting room as a flicker of movement caught her eye.

She turned. To her astonishment, Jake Silver stalked toward her, naked, his lean muscled body gorgeous in the low light of the room, his eyes and lips smiling in a lustful, greedy way. She knew as soon as she saw him that he desired her as much as she craved being with him. But somewhere in the back of her mind she knew this was a big mistake. Yet she couldn’t remember why. Why was seeing him not a safe thing to do?

And she vaguely wondered why he was here. How he had found her. And why he had no clothes.

She didn’t care and stretched her arms up to take hold of him. To embrace him. To make love to him. She wanted him with a passion that she couldn’t quell.

His kiss on her mouth started a low, slow burn growing in the small of her belly, the heat spreading outward as his hands cupped her face, holding her just the way he wanted her. The pressure on her lips increased until she openly invited him in. And he leaped at the invitation, plunging his tongue into her mouth, his hands shifting to her shoulders, gripping her as if he’d lost her forever and had once again found her. He pulled her into his hard embrace, holding her tight as his mouth kissed the top of her head, his arms encircled her back as if they were two lovers reunited.

The familiarity felt phenomenal. As if they belonged together. As if they were bound to each other in some mysterious way.

Yet something was terribly amiss. She felt it in her bones. Something was wrong with her. She couldn’t… be with Jake. Because… because…

No matter how hard she tried to think, she couldn’t come up with the reason. His hands brushed down her naked back, his mouth sweeping across her jaw, lower, his tongue on her throat, and then his lips took in a nipple, licking and sucking, and she squeezed his broad back and moaned.

Hot, hot, she was burning up with heat. Delicious, sexy heat. And the realization dawned that he wasn’t upset with her for leaving him without a word.

All that seemed to matter to him was that they were together again. She cherished him for it, wanted to meld with him, be one with him, and never let go.

Forever, he touched her and kissed her, as if he couldn’t get enough of stroking her. Then he looked into her eyes, his gaze filled with the smoky haze of lust and something more—a yearning to be with her almost as if this wasn’t enough. And then he swept her up into his arms and carried her to the bed and collapsed in it with her in a purely fun-hearted way.

The kisses began anew as he fondled her breasts, his mouth on hers, on her cheeks, on her eyes. She kissed him back rabidly, her fingers stroking his shoulders, his back, his waist, hips, and buttocks, wanting to feel every hard inch of him.

And then his fingers began stroking her, capturing her in a web of exultation, the feeling uplifting, tantalizing, wanting, until the world split in two.

***

Jake couldn’t wait a second longer when he felt Alicia shudder with climax, and he plunged deep between her spread thighs—into the woman of his dreams. He thought he’d lost her for good. The worry that had plagued him for days was thrust aside as he wrapped himself in her heat and loved her like no other woman he’d ever been with. He wanted her, body and soul. He swore this was only the beginning.

Jake jerked awake, stared at the empty mattress next to him and wondered what the hell had happened. She was real. Alicia Greiston had been with him, loving him as he’d loved her back.

He raked his hands through his tussled hair, staring into the dark. He had barely thought of anything but Alicia since he’d lost her—wondering if she’d planned her disappearance or if the men she’d been after had planned it for her. And he couldn’t quit berating himself for not having stayed with her.

But the dream had been so real, like she had truly been with him. He wasn’t a dreamer. Had never recalled anything that he dreamed. The experience left him longing for her touch, to know she was safe, and when she was gone, he felt bereft. He couldn’t quit thinking of her, sharing a kiss, a smile, heart pounding, bare bodies pressed together, breath intermingled, hands clutching each other, tongues touching, her lips parting for him, offering herself to him fully.