Soul Dreams (12 page)

Read Soul Dreams Online

Authors: Desiree Holt

Tags: #A Western Escape

BOOK: Soul Dreams
11.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Well?” He sounded tense.

“What? Oh! The beard. I love it. It feels like silk.” She waited for him to pull her hand away, but he didn’t make a move. “Can I ask you what color your hair is?”

“Dark brown.” He made a harsh, self-deprecating sound in his throat. “With a little more gray in it than I’d like.”

“I love the soft texture of it.” And she did, the sensation pleasurable as she sifted it through her fingers.

His laugh was rough. “I don’t think anyone ever told me that before.”

“Is it rude to ask how old you are?” This was the strangest conversation she’d had in a long time.

“Sure, if you’ll tell me the same thing.”

She couldn’t believe he was still letting her touch his beard. “Thirty-two.”

“I’m thirty-five. And no, before you ask, no spouse or kids.”

“Me either.”

She let her fingers travel over his face, trying to “see” with them. His cheekbones were high and his eyelashes thick. A straight nose was bracketed by thick eyebrows. Grange had told her he used to live on a ranch, and pictures she’d seen of cowboys flashed through her mind. She finally dropped her hand from his face, but instead of it falling into her lap it landed on his crotch.

Oh God
! Beneath worn, well-washed denim what could only be described as an enormous erection pulsed under her fingers. Heat consumed her, and she tried to shift away from him. Blake closed his fingers around her wrist again and maneuvered her so she touched his thigh.

“Does what you felt tell you how much you affect me? How much I want you even though we’ve only been together in person these few minutes?”

She nodded and bit her lip. What she really wanted to do was lower his zipper and grip his thick rod, but she didn’t have the courage.

His thumb caressed her cheekbone with feathery strokes. “Let’s talk more about our dreams.”

There was the little shiver of excitement again. “Our dreams?”

Between his erection and his question, her heart was racing.

“Yes. The ones we have when we fall asleep.” His voice hardened. “At least when we can.”

“Um, okay. What would you like to know?”
That we’re naked and make hot sensual love
?

“You said you dream about me. I told you I dream about you. Have you ever heard the Abenaki legend about the man and woman who were meant for each other? Who mated in their dreams, and the dreams led them to each other in real life?”

Oh, yes. She’d found it when she’d researched dream legends and had printed it out. Kept it beside her bed. Read it after each of her dreams. And again before she left for this visit tonight.

She exhaled slowly. “Yes, I have. Where did you read about it?”

“In one of those books I bought from you.” He shifted, and his hand moved from hers to stroke her hair. He tucked a few strands behind her ear, lightly tracing the shell of her ear. “I haven’t left this house in two years,” he went on. “You’re the first woman I’ve even been next to in all this time. Please don’t think I’m insane or a maniac and run out of here when I tell you my dreams about you have been wild and erotic.”

Her pulse speeded up again. Should she tell him? Was she setting herself up to self-destruct again? Oh God, she hoped not. She hoped the dreams were a sign for her to move forward. “I-I’ve had the same kind. A lot.” She paused. “Do you think
I’m
a maniac?”

He laughed, and the sound eased the tightness in her chest. “I don’t know. Depends on what you’ve been dreaming.”

“You first,” she told him.

“I’d rather do this.”

Before she realized it, he tilted her to face him, one arm around her, the other hand cupping her chin. He pressed his lips against hers, a butterfly touch, so feather light it was barely there. She didn’t pull away, and the pressure increased. And when her arms came up to wrap around him, he traced the seam of her lips with his tongue.

He kissed one corner of her mouth then the other before murmuring, “Let me in. Please.”

It was the dream all over again, except this time she could actually taste him, and he was delicious. She opened her mouth to let his tongue sweep inside, and she offered him her own. It wasn’t the most passionate kiss she’d ever had or the most aggressive, but it certainly was the most possessive. As if he was somehow claiming ownership. And she had no desire to push him away.

She threaded her fingers through his hair, as smooth to the touch as his beard, and held his head to hers while he gently plundered her mouth. His tongue lit fires every place he touched, the heat flowing down through her body and making her muscles clench with desire. This was at once the most erotic and the most emotional kiss she’d ever shared, and she never wanted it to stop. It was only lack of oxygen that made them break the contact at last. She didn’t try to move away, hoping he’d take it as a sign not to let go. They sat there for a long moment, arms wrapped around each other, her head against his shoulder.

“I dreamed about kissing you like this.”

The words were whispered so faintly at first Nina wasn’t sure she heard correctly. “You did?”

“Uh huh. A lot.” He gently nipped her ear lobe. “About tasting you, inhaling your scent. Touching you everywhere. Do you dream that way?”

She squeezed her thighs together against the sudden hunger beating in her pussy, her voice unsteady when she answered him. “Yes. Yes, I do.” She stroked his beard again. “Blake? Won’t you please take off the blindfold so I can see you?”

His muscles tightened for a moment then relaxed. “No. I can’t. Not yet. Please don’t ask me.” His laugh was forced. “Let’s keep this a fantasy for the time being, okay?”

“All right.” His words sounded so desperate, how could she say no? She wanted to ask him why but thought better of it. She didn’t want to break the spell that seemed to have fallen over them.

“I can’t believe I’m getting to touch you for real.” One hand slid up her rib cage to find her breast, cupping it in his palm. “You feel the way you did in the dream. Did we do the same things in yours we did in mine?”

She was sure she was blushing. “Yes, we did.”

“I haven’t made love to a woman in two years,” he told her, his voice cracking slightly. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever want to again. Until the dreams.”

“God, Blake.”

“I haven’t missed it. Until now.” He kissed her forehead. “And you? There can’t be a man in your life if we’re dreaming together. The legend says it’s not possible.”

She leaned against him, lulled by his scent, the heat of the fire, his hand caressing her breast, his mouth brushing kisses everywhere on her face.

“No one.” She dropped her voice so low even a whisper was louder. “Not for five years.”

Blake’s body tightened, and he lifted his head from hers. “Five years? Are you kidding me?”

She tried to hide her face against his shoulder again, but he tilted up her chin again.

He kissed her cheeks and her chin. “Something terrible must have happened.”

“Yes.” She placed her hands on either side of his face. “It did. Well, maybe not terrible but emotionally destructive.”

“Another reason for me to punch out whoever treated you so badly.”

“No, forget it. Please. It’s ruined every holiday season for me since then and I don’t want it to happen now.” Tears welled up behind her eyelids. “I’ve hated every Thanksgiving. And Christmas is even worse. Let’s not ruin this one by talking about it. Please?”

One hand still kneaded her breast while the other skimmed down her back.

“Holidays are bad for me, too. Do you have any family?”

“Not any more. There’s just me.” Her laugh was weak and thready. “And Riley and Hawk, who have decided to make me their project. Please don’t ask me what happened, okay?”

“I won’t if you won’t.” He continued stroking her, soothing motions, but the tension in his body vibrated like a live wire. Unable to see him, she was ultra-conscious of every nuance of his body and voice. “Nina?” His voice was shaky.

“Mm-hmm?”

“Will you…. Would you…let me take your sweater off?” He kissed her forehead, little butterfly touches, with such tenderness she wanted to weep. “I want to see you in the flesh. I have to. No. I
need
to. Please.”

Heat blasted through her again, and her breasts tingled with anticipation. It wasn’t as if she’d never been naked with him, albeit only in her dreams. She rubbed her hands against the fine cotton of his shirt. “Okay. If you’ll do the same for me.”

She waited a long time for his answer. Against her, every muscle in his body seemed to tighten.

He heaved a sigh. “Not tonight. And please, please don’t ask me why.”

She couldn’t imagine what was so terrible he couldn’t let her touch his naked skin. Next time she dreamed, she would try to make her subconscious mind focus on seeing him fully naked. But she couldn’t deny his pleading, so she nodded her head.

He lifted the sweater gently over her head, smoothing her hair back into place before unhooking the bit of satin and lace that passed for her bra. The unsteadiness of his hands was unmistakable, as if he was afraid she’d change her mind midstream. Or disappear in a puff of smoke. Her nipples puckered and goose bumps broke out on her skin, more from nerves than anything else, because the fire made the room warm as toast.

She’d never felt more vulnerable in her entire life. Her stomach tried to push its way up to her throat, and her heart wanted to jump out of her chest. What did he think? Did he like what he saw? Was he disappointed? Why didn’t he say something?

“You’re beautiful.” His raspy voice was humble. Awestruck. “Even better than in my dreams.”

No one had ever spoken to her the way he did, as if they revered her. She had no idea how to respond, so she simply sat there, trembling slightly, while he ran his hands over her. His touch, as he palmed her breasts was reverent, his mouth, as he sucked each nipple, worshipful. This was somehow sexier to her than if they’d both been naked rolling around on the floor like two animals. Tom Ridgeway had been a demanding lover, aggressive, in charge every moment. But as she gave it one brief thought, she wondered if she had only imagined his gentleness. Had the sex ever even been about her satisfaction? Or had it always been about his?

“I thought I’d never have anything to give thanks for again,” Blake rasped, his thumbs brushing her nipples. “Until you came into my dreams.”

“Me, too,” she whispered.

“I’m going to put your bra and your sweater on, honey. I don’t think we should do any more for tonight. Otherwise, I’m liable to strip every inch of clothing from you and take you like some lust-crazed berserker.”

She clenched her fists to steady herself “What if I said that was okay?”

“No. Don’t. I’ve waited so long to see if life had anything to offer me again. I’m not going to ruin it by being too hasty.”

When she was fully clothed again, he pressed his mouth to hers, tracing the outline with his tongue before thrusting it gently inside. She could sense his reluctance when he pulled his head back.

“I’m a mess, Nina. If you knew how much of a mess, you’d run like hell.” He grabbed her hands. “But I don’t want you to. So, we’re going to do this slowly. Okay?”

“Okay,” she breathed. “I’m not sure I’d know what to do after all this time, anyway.”

“You’ll do fine.” He pressed his mouth to her ear. “Dream of me tonight, sweet Nina. Dream of my mouth on your nipples and your clit. Dream of my tongue tasting your sweet pussy. Of my cock inside you. And dream of yourself coming harder than you ever have in your life. I want to take you there, a place where no one else ever has. But not until we’re both ready.”

One more hot, possessive kiss scorching her lips, and he set her away from him.

“Grange?”

He raised his voice, so Nina assumed the man was at the other end of the house. At least she hoped he was, after the scene in the living room. The familiar boot steps coming nearer suggested she was right.

“Can I get you two anything?” The sound of Grange’s rusty voice followed them.

“No,” Blake answered the man. “Not tonight.” He helped Nina to rise. “But maybe tomorrow night?”

Excitement threaded through her. “Yes. I’d like that.”

“Good. Same time?”

“All right.”

He led her to the hallway and helped her into her jacket. “Grange will see you out.” His mouth brushed her ear again. “Don’t forget about the dream.”

“I won’t. Don’t worry.”

His uneven steps faded slowly away. Finally, Grange untied the scarf. She blinked at the sudden return of light.

“You okay to drive?” he asked.

“Yes. I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

She turned toward the door, but Grange put a hand on her arm to stay her.

“You’re the only person he’s talked to in two years besides me. Please keep coming to see him.”

She stared at him. “What’s wrong with him, Grange? What happened to him?”

“He’d best tell you himself. If you keep coming over here, he will. But not until he’s certain you won’t walk away from him.”

A wild thought raced through her brain. “He didn’t kill someone, did he?”

Grange shook his head, a sad expression on his face. “No, it might have been better if he had. Good night, Nina. Don’t give up, okay?”

She smiled at him, at the worried frown on his forehead. “Not a chance.”

Not after tonight
.

 

 

Chapter Six

 

 

Brutus jumped on Nina the moment she walked in, tail wagging, barking his greeting. She rubbed his head then knelt to hug him.

“Did you miss me, boy? I missed you, too, but there are some places I can’t take you. Okay?”

She sank to the floor, trembling, Brutus climbing all over her. She almost felt as though she’d had an out of body experience. Going into the home of a man who was practically a stranger—okay, a
virtual
stranger—letting him blindfold her and partially undress her. Caress her breasts. Put his mouth on them. Worship them—because there was no other word to describe what he’d done. No one had ever made her feel like that before. Not her dipshit ex-fiancé. Not the self-indulgent Tom Ridgeway. Blake made her feel as though she was the center of his universe. She’d been so aroused when he said he wanted to strip her clothes off, she almost begged him to go ahead and do it. She touched her fingertips to her mouth, still feeling the imprint of his lips.

Other books

Pearl Harbour - A novel of December 8th by Newt Gingrich, William R. Forstchen
Rule of Three by Jamieson, Kelly
The Holiday Nanny by Lois Richer
Éclair and Present Danger by Laura Bradford
The Damsel's Defiance by Meriel Fuller
Succubus Blues by Richelle Mead
Time of Attack by Marc Cameron