up to his, and looked down into those stunning, knowing eyes of hers. “It’s not crazy if we’re both thinking it, feeling it…saying it. Right?”
She smiled, and he actually felt his heart tip inside his chest. That was a smile he wanted to be blessed with, graced with, every chance he got.
“I say yes,” she said. “Because the alternative is we’ve gone to some parallel universe, or this really is a dream. Except even I don’t dream this big, or this good.”
He smiled, too, then, and stroked a curl-entwined finger down along her cheek. “So, by default then, it has to be real.”
She turned her face, kissed his palm. “I sure as hell hope so.”
He rolled them both slightly, reaching down for the coverlet and sheets they’d already tangled up, finally tugging and pulling the covers over their bodies, before settling them both back deeply into the down mattress and soft pile of pillows. “Stay with me.”
“Try to make me leave,” she said, making him laugh.
“You…” He shook his head, then kissed the top of hers before tightening his arms around her. “…better still be here when I wake up in the morning. Because if this is a dream, I’m going to be really pissed.”
She laughed, and traced her fingers through the hair on his chest, as their breathing evened out. He felt an almost liquid warmth seep through him, relaxing him in a way he’d never felt before, like it went past muscle, past mind, somewhere beyond, somewhere deeper, as if soothing his very soul. He’d wanted to talk more, find out more, if for no other reason than to ground the fantasy of this connection they’d forged in as much reality as possible, as quickly as possible, before something in the real world shattered their dream one.
But then her hand was drifting downward, and despite how sated he’d felt a moment earlier, his body began to stir to life all over again. This time there was no frantic coupling.
This time they relished in every breath, every moan. She tasted him…and he tasted her. He spent the most glorious hour of his life exploring her body…then lay back in stunned shock as she, very delightfully and deliberately did the same with him.
And when she could take no more teasing with his tongue, and he could take no more of her little nips down along his spine, he pulled her beneath him, and slowly pushed into her. Their gazes, as he was coming to know would always be the case, found each other unerringly, and remained locked, as he drove…and she took, then more, when she rose to meet him, holding him so tightly inside her he thought he’d die from the pleasure of it. And this time, when she climbed that last peak, so did he.
“Emma,” he said, groaning as she arched beneath him and fell sweetly, perfectly apart around him. He took her mouth then, and took her. Claimed that last piece of her, and thought to himself that this time, there would be no being complacent and keeping the peace. This time, he would fight, and cause a scene, and do whatever it took, because this time, finally, he had something worth fighting for.
He wanted to tell her, make her understand, only the sandman had other ideas, and they both drifted even as his heartbeat was still finding its balance. The last thing he remembered was the soft kiss she pressed directly over his heart.
12
The first thing Emma heard was howling. She blinked her eyes open and instinctively stretched, only to realize—and immediately recall every last detail of the fact—that she was in bed with Trevor. Naked, in bed. With a naked Trevor. A naked Trevor who had made love to her last night like she was the last woman on earth, or maybe the only woman for him.
She closed her eyes, wanting to hold onto the fantasy that surely must be. But Jack was howling, the fire had gone out, and the thin gray light coming in through the tall, floor-to-ceiling windows announced that bad weather was still continuing. And the warm, hard body next to her, along with the wide, firm palm cupping her backside, were all far too real for her to pretend that any of this was a dream.
“Jack needs to be put out of his misery,” Trevor said, his body still heavy against hers, his eyes still closed, and his voice deliciously gravelly.
“He just needs to go out,” Emma said, hearing the