Early to Bed?. Cara Summers
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Название: Early to Bed?
Автор: Cara Summers
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781474020107
isbn:
Just then, lightning flashed. He saw it split the sky, and the thunder clapped so loud, so close, that the windows rattled. A warning, he thought. A second later, the lights flickered and went out.
Definitely a warning, he thought as he made his way into the bedroom.
LILY FOUGHT HER WAY UP from a dream. She’d been with her lover. He’d touched her hair and her cheek. His fingers had been callused, arousing. She’d been so sure he was about to kiss her. In that moment when he’d seemed to hesitate, she’d wanted so badly to open her eyes, to reach out and cover his hand with hers, to draw him closer. But she’d been trapped in that paralysis between sleeping and waking. Don’t go. She’d tried to say the words, but no sound had come out.
And then he’d moved away.
The sharp sting of rejection brought her fully to the surface, and the moment she opened her eyes, she realized the suite was pitch black. A glance at the windows told her that nearby buildings were dark, too. A power failure. Rain pelted the glass in an unrelenting rhythm. In the distance, a flash of lightning forked through the sky, followed by a rumble of thunder. The noise from the storm—that’s what had pulled her out of her dream, not her lover walking away. The dull pain of failure still lingered from the dream. Ridiculous, she thought as she sat up. She was not going to let her fear of failure creep into her dreams, too.
After pushing herself up off the couch, she used the furniture to guide her as she made her way to the upper level. Failure was a part of her past, and she was going to make sure it did not seep into her future. She was going to go back to sleep in that bed made for lovers. Then she was going to conjure up her dream lover and make sure he didn’t pull away.
Running her hand along the wall, she made it to the door she was sure opened into the bedroom. The darker shadow three feet in front of her had to be the bed. Once she reached it, she felt her way to the side near the windows where she recalled seeing the step-stool. There. Once her foot connected with it, she climbed up on the mattress and slipped beneath the covers.
A yawn overtook her as her head settled on the pillow. The bed was so warm, so welcoming, as if a lover was already there, waiting for her. Her lips curved in a smile. Dame Vera had promised her one, after all. So what if it was only one conjured by her mind? A dream lover didn’t interfere with your life. Closing her eyes, she emptied her mind of everything, then concentrated on calling up a picture of her dream lover. Visualization. That was the key. She hadn’t seen him too clearly in the dream, so he could be anything she wanted him to be.
Slowly, she brought his features into focus. A strong nose, Roman, she decided. And the cheekbones of a warrior. His mouth was masculine, but the whole effect would be softened by dimples that appeared only when he smiled. And then there were his eyes. They were the color of dark, forbidden chocolate. Irresistible. The warmth of the bed began to seep through her. As she felt herself begin to sink into sleep, her dream lover’s features became even clearer in her mind. Her last thought before sleep overtook her was that she’d seen her dream lover somewhere before.
3
TONY DRIFTED somewhere in the twilight zone between waking and sleeping. The last thing he wanted to do was surface from the dream he was having. His Goldilocks was sleeping in his bed. And it felt just right.
She was nestled against him like a spoon, her back to his front. Each time he inhaled, her scent filled him. He would have recognized it anywhere. Spring flowers, the kind his mother had taken such care to grow in terra cotta pots on the roof.
With lazy pleasure, he slipped one hand beneath her to keep her near and ran the other down her from her shoulder to her thigh. The contrast of warm silky skin and more roughly textured cotton had a warm flame of desire moving through him. She shifted, pressing more closely against him, and the flame eased into a slow, searing burn.
He slipped his hand beneath thin cotton. She made a throaty sound of pleasure when he cupped her breast, another when he scraped his teeth against the nape of her neck. He’d dreamed before of touching her like this, but the sensations seemed sharper now. Her skin was soft as water, her waist so narrow. Hearing the quick hitch of her breath, he let his hand take the long, slow journey again. He felt his own need grow as he absorbed each separate layer of her response—the pounding of her heart, the warming of her skin when he pressed his palm against it, the tremor that moved through her when he finally slipped his hand beneath the waistband of her sweats. Then he used his mouth on the back of her neck again as he slipped a finger into her heat.
THE ORGASM MOVED THROUGH HER in one, hot, consuming wave, and Lily thought she just might die from the pleasure. Then before she could catch even one breath or gather up the strength to move, those strong, clever fingers began to move deep inside of her again. This time each sensation was sharper. She inhaled his scent—something darkly male. And the heat of his body—it burned hers like a brand at each and every contact point.
She’d never dreamed anything this clearly before. His teeth bit the back of her neck as his hand tightened on her breast. She could hear her heart beat, feel each pump of her blood as it accelerated the way a locomotive did when it hurled itself down a hill. His fingers moved relentlessly, and though she hadn’t thought it possible, a huge pressure was beginning to build inside of her again.
Then he withdrew his hand.
“No.” The word came out as a ragged moan and she twisted and rolled, desperate until she lay across him. Visualize. This was a dream, she reminded herself. A wonderful one. If she just pictured everything clearly enough, it wouldn’t fade. Her dream lover couldn’t leave.
She conjured up his face in her head again—the strong features, one by one. It was working. She could feel his body beneath her, all hard planes and angles, pressing into hers.
“I want you,” she said.
“Touch me.”
Lily wasn’t sure who said the words. All she knew was that she had an overwhelming urge to explore him with her hands, to memorize him the way he’d memorized her. With her eyes still closed, she traced her fingers over his brows, down the sides of his face to the hard line of his jaw. Yes, he was just as she’d pictured him. As she brushed just the tips of her fingers over smooth, firm lips, the image in her mind wavered a little. Slowly, she lowered her mouth to his. The urge to taste him was so huge, so consuming. His lips were parted, just slightly, and his flavor seeped into her—dark and tempting. His mouth was so warm, so gentle. When her tongue moved against his, the taste grew richer. Lily felt herself melting, skin, muscle, bones.
She was on the border between sleep and wakefulness, but as his hands began to move on her again, she couldn’t summon up the strength to open her eyes. Lean and firm, his hands weren’t gentle this time. They were strong and hard, the fingers callused. Wherever they pressed, flames licked along her skin. Threading her fingers through his hair, she arched against him, urging him on as she poured herself into a kiss.
TONY FELT his reason slipping away. She was so responsive, so giving. So his.
His hands had taken on a will of their own, racing over her, taking, touching, claiming. His mouth too seemed out of his control. He had to devour her. Even as her taste filled him, he couldn’t seem to get enough of it. Some part of his mind was telling him that this couldn’t be a dream, the sensations СКАЧАТЬ