LOVE BITES Page 0,29

out of her eyes with a heavy sigh. "Only I would have a wet dream where the guy fights me off."

"It's not a dream," Etienne repeated. "And if you would just accept that this is all real, we could--"

"Okay," Rachel agreed. "It's not a dream." She grinned.

Etienne eyed her warily. "What?"

"It's not a dream, it's a nightmare. But the best darned nightmare I've had in a long time."

"No, it's not a nightmare."

"It certainly is," she disagreed. "It's every woman's nightmare. Waking up in a sexy man's bed only to find he doesn't want you? Definitely a nightmare."

"I do want you," Etienne assured her.

"Oh, good. Maybe it's not a nightmare after all, then." She claimed his lips with her own.

This time, Etienne had no fight left. After a moment's hesitation, he gave in to his desires. The passion that burst to life between them was startling.

Etienne had lived a long time, and sex had become old hat. In fact, his passion for most things had waned over the ages. He'd grown deadly bored with life until recently--until the advent of computers. Those wonderful machines had caught his interest and passion with a vengeance that women hadn't for a long while. But this woman stirred feelings he hadn't enjoyed for centuries. And all with just a kiss?

Etienne was so startled by his body's enthusiastic response, he gave in to it at once, his gentlemanly urges overwhelmed by lust. He released his hold on Rachel's shoulders and slid his hands over her body with hungry caresses impatient at the clothes she wore. With a primitive growl, he caught fabric and tugged, uncaring that he was snapping buttons off his favorite shirt. He didn't possess any bras for her to have pinched, so Rachel wasn't wearing one. It left him free to first gawk at, then cover the round globes of her breasts with his hands.

Rachel broke their kiss with a moan and arched forward into the caress.

"Oh, yes," she breathed, head thrown back and eyes closed. She covered his hands with her own. "I'm good."

"You are, are you?" Etienne asked with a chuckle. He sat up until he could reach her breast with his mouth. Closing his lips over her nipple, he sucked it into his mouth and rubbed the hardening nub with his tongue.

"Oh, Gawdddd I'm good," Rachel gasped. Shifting on his lap, she ground against the erection burgeoning inside his jeans. "Sylvia said wet dreams could be good, but Gawdddd!"

Etienne felt a moment's guilt, but he quickly pushed it aside. She was obviously enjoying her dream, and he had tried to tell her the truth.

His self-justification ended as her hand again found his waistband. This time Etienne didn't try to stop her, instead finding himself sucking in an excited breath, his stomach muscles contracting as she unsnapped the button then lowered the zipper. Her hand had just slipped in when the bedroom door opened. Marguerite stepped inside.

"Well." Etienne's mother's voice was full of dry amusement. "I gather you two are getting along all right."

Etienne groaned. His eyes went to Rachel, who sat up to glance around. Her expression was perplexed when it landed on his mother. "What are you doing in my wet dream?"

"Wet dream?" Marguerite Argeneau shifted her gaze back to her son.

"Er..." was all Etienne said.

Chapter Six

"You were supposed to convince her that she wasn't dreaming, son."

"I know," Etienne said soothingly. He'd never seen his mother so annoyed. She had been sweet and nice to Rachel, ignoring the wet-dream comment and acting as if she hadn't just walked in on an awkward moment. Presenting Rachel with a tote bag filled with clothes collected from her apartment, Marguerite had then suggested Rachel might be more comfortable in them than Etienne's cast-offs. Then she had asked Rachel to come below when she was ready.

Next, she had ushered Etienne out of the room, her silence along the hall and down the stairs warning him that she was more than a little peeved. Now, in the living room, he tried to defend himself. "I tried to convince her it wasn't a dream. I really did."

"Well, you apparently failed," Marguerite snapped. "The girl thinks she's having an erotic dream, for God's sake!"

"An erotic dream?" Bastien echoed. His tone was half-amused, half-horrified.

"Fascinating." Lucern--a carbon copy of Bastien, except taller--pulled a pen and pad out of his pocket and jotted something down.

Etienne glared at his older brothers, then took a deep calming breath. Turning back to his mother, he said, "She's really resisting the idea