IT WAS nearly one when Jase let himself into the apartment. At some point during the taxi ride from La Guardia, the adrenaline that had fueled him for the last few weeks had drained away as surely as if someone had pulled a plug. Setting his duffel down, he shut the door and locked it. Then, without turning on the lights, he made his way to his bedroom, shed his clothes, eased back the covers, and climbed in. Sleep claimed him before his head settled fully into the pillow.
THE DREAM came slowly, slipping into his mind as a lover might slip into his bed. A woman, soft and warm, was nestled against him. With lazy pleasure, he let himself drift in sensations, absorbing each one. The press of a palm against his chest, the silky length of a thigh trapped between his. And the scent—he had to draw her closer to place it—he’d caught that fragrance before on drives through the country—a mix of wildflowers and sunshine.
When she sighed and snuggled closer, Jase ran a hand from her shoulder to her thigh and back again, absorbing the contrasting textures of smooth, soft skin and rougher cotton. Desire tugged at him when she pressed against him and her hands moved to slide over his back.
Drifting with the sensations, Jase touched his mouth to her temple and slipped his hand beneath her shirt. The throaty sound of pleasure she made when he cupped her breast had the tug of desire turning into a sharp pull. Nothing would be simpler than to give in to the temptation to shift her onto her back and make a place for himself between her legs. To thrust into her and lose himself in her.
But equally tempting was the thought of exploring her more thoroughly and discovering how far the dream would take him. Slowly, he ran his hand from her breast down the taut length of her torso, over that firm, narrow waist until he could slip his fingers beneath the band of her panties. The soft moan she made when he found her heat and began to stroke her urged him to take his mouth on a leisurely journey over her face from her temple to jawline and back again. Her breath was hitching now and she began to arch faster and faster against his hand. Desire pulled even more strongly against his control. But first…first, he wanted to take more, to give her more. He traced her mouth with his tongue, then began to tease her lips with his. When he finally allowed himself to fully taste her, the flavor was so sweet, so potent, that he thought he might never get enough. Taking the kiss ever deeper, he slipped two fingers into her and felt her soar.
THE ORGASM shot through Maddie in one glorious wave after another until she was sure she was going to drown. When she finally surfaced, she had only a few moments of respite, barely enough time to register what that clever mouth was doing to hers before those long hard fingers began to move inside her again. She’d never dreamed anything this vividly before. Even as the incredible pressure began to build once more, other sensations bombarded her. She inhaled his scent, something dark and male. The sharp nip of his teeth on her bottom lip. And his body—it was so hot that she felt as if it was branding her at each and every contact point.
The second orgasm was sharper than the first, and before it peaked, he was there, just where she wanted him to be, thrusting into her. And then they began to move together.
Yes, she thought as she wrapped arms and legs around him. This was what she wanted—this wild, fast race. This was what she’d always wanted, and no one had been ever able to give it to her before. Holding on for dear life, she rode the climax, rode him, until they leapt over that final crest together.
Chapter Three
MADDIE DRIFTED UP slowly through layers of sleep, trying to hold on to each one. The dream she’d been having was so wonderful, so real. With each breath, she drew in her lover’s scent—potent, male. His arm held her close, and she felt the length of that hard body pressed against her. The sensations were vivid enough to have her blood heating all over again.
She wanted more than anything to sink back into the dream so that he would touch her, tempt her, tease her again. But there was light beyond her closed eyelids and she could hear muted sounds. Motors rumbling, brakes squealing…
Traffic? Frowning, she struggled to remember.
The insistent beep of a horn, louder than the others, triggered a kaleidoscope of memories. Her sister, the terms of her mother’s will, the endless series of plane rides, the detailed files Jordan had insisted she study.
The horn blasted again.
She definitely wasn’t in Kansas anymore. Nor was she at the ranch in Santa Fe. She was in her sister’s New York City apartment. The last thing she clearly recalled was dragging her suitcase into the closest bedroom and falling into bed.
That’s when the dream had begun—and her lover had joined her. And he was still with her. The smooth taut skin on his shoulder was warm beneath her hand, and above the sounds from the street below she heard the steady rate of his breathing.
Was she still trapped in her dream?
A mix of emotions swept through her—fear, excitement. Anticipation? Gingerly, Maddie opened one eye. There was just enough light seeping through the slit in the drapes for her to see that her senses were not deceiving her. Her hand was indeed resting against a man’s shoulder. And the rest of her body was totally wrapped around his. Everything about him, the hint of stubble on his chin, the strength of the arm wrapped around her waist—even the erection growing harder against her stomach—seemed to be very real.
Squeezing her eye shut again, Maddie drew in a deep breath and let it out. One thing she’d learned growing up on her father’s ranch was that you had to face facts. So the dream lover who’d joined her in bed last night had been real. Was real.
And facts had to be dealt with. A cut fence had to be mended ASAP so cattle didn’t stray. Still, a real lover in one’s bed instead of a dream one presented more complicated problems—one of them being that she didn’t seem to want to disentangle herself from him. What she was tempted to do more than anything else was to push him onto his back and taste him again, touch him again.
Not happening, Maddie lectured herself. And why was she even considering the possibility? No man had ever made her feel the way this one had. Ever. And she didn’t even know who he was.
Stiffening her resolve, Maddie slowly drew her head back and this time she opened both eyes. Even in the dim light, recognition was instantaneous. After all, she’d memorized those features—the angled cheekbones, that strong chin, the firm lips.
At some point in the night, she’d made love to Jase Campbell. And he’d made love to her.
Heat shot through her. But it wasn’t from embarrassment. Her body was on fire because she wanted to repeat the experience. Right now.
Not going to happen. She had to get a grip. And she had to get out of this bed. If she could just get away before he woke up, maybe she could pretend that the night they’d just shared hadn’t happened. If he brought it up, she’d just tell him that he’d been dreaming. That would be one way to mend the fence. Maybe the only way.
Dragging her eyes away from his face, she focused on ungluing herself from him. But her body rebelled, refusing to take orders from her brain. Her hand seemed permanently affixed to his shoulder, her fingers splayed. Maddie faced another fact—she didn’t want to stop touching him, and she knew that if her hand moved at all, it would slide down to wrap itself around the length of his erection which was pressing against her stomach more insistently with each passing moment.
When he sighed, his breath feathered along her temple, and his arm tightened more firmly around her waist. Maddie barely managed to stifle a moan. He was waking up. Once he did, the pretend-it-never-happened scenario would no longer be an option. But it wasn’t panic she was feeling, it was a wild thrill.
What was happening to her? Why was she reacting this way?
He stirred again. Maybe there was still time to slip away. She focused all her effort on pushing against his shoulder. It was like trying