Fran Lee: Out of Her Dreams

He’d stood watching for well over an hour. Fantasizing. Aching. Wanting. What the fuck? Women just didn’t have this kind of effect on him. He’d never before seen a woman he’d felt such an instant, hot attraction to. He was like some horny kid chasing after his first piece of ass. Get a grip, man.

Unable to stand it any longer, he’d stepped out of the shadows and had butted into the line, smiling down at the startled woman behind him and asking her to just let him sneak in front for a moment. An odd glazed look had come over the woman’s face and she’d simply nodded jerkily as he thanked her and waited for the young woman ahead of him to finish.

But it was when she had taken the book and her slim fingers had tangled with his and she had flashed those gorgeous eyes up at him, that he’d felt as if he had been slugged in the gut with a fist. And then he’d spoken to her and he had seen the amazed, almost shocked look that came over her face, and he had wanted to drag her up out of that damn little chair and across that table to kiss her. To do one hell of a lot more than just kiss her. His groin was so fucking tight, he could barely think straight.

And now, as he held her captive less than an inch away and he stared down into those stunning, wet-dream-provoking eyes, with her lush curves soft against his hot, raging body, all he wanted was to drag her clothes off and make hot love to her on top of that dusty old desk in the back corner of the stockroom.

He tilted her face up to his and couldn’t stop himself. He leaned possessively into her slender body and bent to devour those lush, sensational lips as she weakly protested his accusations.

He had never tasted anything so fucking good in his life. He felt her sweetly tantalizing mouth open beneath his and he took instant advantage, deepening the kiss and drinking in the honeyed taste of her, his tongue sweeping hungrily into her mouth as his hands molded the delicious little body that was so carefully hidden under that high-necked, long-sleeved blouse and that trim wool skirt.

He heard her gasp of shock and then a whimper of enjoyment as he slanted his mouth across hers to get even closer. His tongue drove between her lips urgently and he inhaled her sexy-sweet scent, his cock suddenly harder than hell as their tongues tangled in an erotic dance that made him want to shed their clothes and get down to business. Heat surged through him, an intense, wanting heat that made him forget where he was and why he was there.

How the hell had this happened?

He was beginning to believe that she had dreamed him, because he sure as hell had dreamed her. But in his own fevered, heady dreams, she had been a nebulous wraith whose kiss and touch had brought him awake dragging in deep breaths of air and shaking from the surreality of making love to her. From sinking his cock hard and deep into a body made for sin. From the feel of a sweet, wet sheath cradling his flesh and milking him as he came so damn hard inside her. The delicious smell of her was straight out of his dreams. The taste of her mouth. The pounding of that heart against his chest. And all he wanted was to experience that dream again. And again.

He barely heard the muffled pounding at the door of the stockroom. It somehow made its way into his fevered brain. He realized that he wasn’t thinking clearly. He realized that he was on the very edge of doing something incredibly stupid here. He realized with a groan that he was certainly not supposed to be kissing this woman, who had basically stolen his life and displayed it for millions of horny, panting female readers. He had to stop what he was doing and drag her into court and get his share of the income from those books. Make her regret using his face and name without his permission. Make her sorry.

But for the life of him, he couldn’t take his hands or his mouth from her. He felt her slender, lushly curved body arching into his, her fingers dragging over his sensitive nipples where she had burrowed under his shirt to touch his naked skin. Her hands, sweetly wicked, moving over his quaking body to drive him mad for her as she too seemed totally lost in the moment. Lost in the scintillating, sexual heat that swept over them both in a tsunami of pure lust.

Sam was shocked that he was kissing her instead of strangling her but she was even more shocked at her own depraved, humiliating need to touch his body. To feel the rippling muscles under that silk suit jacket. She had frantically dragged his shirt out of the waistband of his slacks and had burrowed under the soft Egyptian cotton with trembling hands, seeking the hot, hard muscles of his ribs and chest and back, as she whimpered and allowed him complete freedom to plunder her mouth.

It didn’t occur to her to protest as she felt him drag her own blouse out of the waistband of her skirt to imitate her eager exploration. It was her dream all over again. And it was even better with a real, live man. And then common sense began to kick back in.

Whoa. She shouldn’t be kissing this man. She should be calling her lawyer and asking for legal advice. She should be covering her ass legally and professionally but all she could do was wrap herself around him, doing her damnedest to undress him in the stockroom of the mall bookstore!

Stupid. Stupid. STUPID!

But her body had taken over, leaving her fevered brain in the dust. He was so decadently delicious. He tasted of heat and mint and espresso with heavy cream. He tasted of melted chocolate and incredible man. Oh, the man had such a talented tongue. She shivered as she thought of it on other places on her trembling body. Running over her skin and dipping into-

The pounding on the door didn’t quite make it through to her as she wrapped one leg around his rock-hard thigh and pressed her throbbing center to the heavy ridge of muscle below his hip. Her right hand slid down into his slacks to follow the equally hard ridge of his straining cock. She heard the groan of pleasure that erupted from his throat. Heard the whimper of need that came from her own. Never in her entire life had she done anything remotely this outrageous. This completely wanton. His cock seemed to grow larger, harder, filling her hand as he dragged her hips against his leg and cupped her ass with both hands.

If Phyllis hadn’t managed to shove the door open against their combined weights a couple of inches to groan, “What the hell is going on in there, Sam? You have to get back out here. There’s going to be a riot if these women don’t get to see you and him!” she might have succeeded in forcing herself on the man right on the spot. Oh but he was so hard, heavenly and hot!

“Sam. Open this damn door!”

She managed to return from outer space and shove shakily away from him with a sharp gasp for breath, putting her foot back on solid ground as his hands slid off her butt and went instantly to adjust his mangled tie.

“Okay. Hold your horses. Just another minute,” she rasped, as they both recovered from their momentary meltdown and rapidly tucked and smoothed disarranged clothing like two kids caught playing doctor in the hayloft. Holy shit. She felt her face go bright red with mortification as she realized what the hell she had just been doing and she nervously chewed the corner of her lip as she smoothed her hair back with trembling fingers.

Dazed, David stared down into eyes that could so damn easily control his body and mind. He felt his fevered body still clamoring for her. Felt his cock still hot and hard with need as he cleared his throat and ran his hands around his belt, shoving his shirt back where it belonged as she imitated his actions with her own clothing.

What a fucking rush. Whatever the hell had just happened, it had happened to both of them.