Talking In Your Sleep...

by Hunter, Samantha

  “I hope you’ll find this worth sacrificing a few cookies for,” he teased, planting his palm on the crease of her hip and thigh, his thumb rubbing the hot slit of her flesh, making her gasp in delight. His hand was large and warm, his fingertips slightly rough, probably from the work he was doing on Warren’s house, and the sensations his touch brought forth were mind-blowing.

  “What cookies?” she joked breathlessly, arching against him. She curled her fingers around the counter’s edge, positioning herself and opening for him as he eased inside of her, big and hot, filling her completely. She trembled with the completeness of it. Yes, this was better than her dreams—and her dreams had been pretty damned good.

  “Definitely worth trashing the cookies,” she said, hearing him chuckle as he began to move, rocking his hips in a steady rhythm, finding her mouth with his and parrying his tongue with hers in the same way.

  There was a delectable pressure building inside—something she couldn’t remember experiencing with another man, ever.

  Rafe couldn’t seem to stop kissing her, her mouth, her face, her neck, murmuring hot words now and then, but mostly his lips were engaged in kissing every spot of her he could reach as he drove himself forward with increasing speed, touching her everywhere, urging her to come along with him.

  She wanted to—she honestly did. Satisfaction hovered on the edge like a lightning bolt on the horizon, ready to strike, but the moment she became conscious of it, the brightness disappeared.

  She groaned in frustration—why, why couldn’t she do this simple thing? Her body was obviously willing, though her mind wouldn’t let go. Sex was in the brain, so they said, and she seemed like living proof. Her brain was completely out of sync with her body.

  Knowing it wasn’t going to happen, she didn’t intend to risk Rafe’s disappointment. They’d had a perfect day, and she wasn’t going to let on that she couldn’t live up to his expectations.

  Turning her attention back to the moment, she relished the strong grip of his hands on her backside, how his fingers pressed in as he buried his face in her neck. Following his gentle cues, she lifted her legs up over his shoulders, increasing the intensity of the vocals she made, indicating she was reaching her climax, and loving how he responded by hammering even harder into her, throwing his head back. She watched him, not entirely minding that she wasn’t completely in the moment; it was worth it just to observe the wild intensity with which he made love to her.

  She’d never seen a man so utterly open and uninhibited—and with her. The idea that he reacted to her this way touched a chord deep inside. She couldn’t stop watching him.

  No sooner had she become aware of the glimmer of possibility than his jaw clenched tight until he let out a grown of release, fitting himself so tightly into her that she was sure even air couldn’t move between them as he finished. He pulled her against him, his chest heaving breaths of spent passion.

  Her body slid against his, both of them sweaty and slick as he lifted her back down to the floor. She cuddled against him, enjoying the moment. He felt so good to her, there was no denying that.

  As their breathing settled, he rubbed her back and stepped away a little, looking down into her face. He looked more relaxed, more handsome, if that was even possible.

  “That was wonderful,” he said, and she nodded, not quite meeting his gaze, kissing his shoulder.

  “Yes, it was.”

  He backed up another step, framing her face in his palms and looking at her with a gaze so penetrating she nearly had to turn away. “Joy, I know a lot about the human body, and about women. What I don’t know is why you’d fake it with me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Joy,” he said in gentle admonition, and she moved away, bending to reach for her clothes.

  “Fine, I faked. So what? It was nice anyway, I enjoyed it—I think I might have come close, but I typically don’t…I’ve rarely been able to, uh…”

  “Orgasm,” he stated bluntly.

  She looked away stubbornly, pulling on her underwear and her shirt. “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me instead of pretending?”

  “I didn’t want to make it bad for you—I didn’t want you to be disappointed.”

  “Why would I be disappointed? How could it be bad? It was incredible. A lot of women have trouble in that department, and if you’d told me, I could have done something else.”

  His voice lowered to a sexy pitch when he said the simple words something else, making her flutter all over in response, but she also didn’t know what to say. No man had ever talked to her this bluntly before—none had cared, happy to enjoy themselves and go on their way. She’d gotten used to it, and Rafe’s penetrating gaze and questions made her squirm, awkward and exposed.

  He put his hands on her arms, making her face him.

  “Listen, okay, fine,” she said blusteringly. “I know this is a guy thing, you like to know you can make us respond, and I did respond, Rafe, as best I could. I loved what you did, but I’m too uptight. I think too much, and I can’t turn it off. It’s not you, it’s me,” she joked lamely.

  Joy felt on edge, probably because her body was still riled up. Rafe didn’t make it easy; he didn’t let her off the hook, and she didn’t know exactly how to deal with it. Rafe didn’t want spin, he only wanted the truth.

  “Joy, we can try lots of different things, whatever you want,” he said quietly. Leaning in to kiss her, she didn’t kiss him back, but didn’t draw away, either. “Let me show you—we can experiment, play, whatever.”

  Joy wanted to believe that, but she knew…she just knew that as long as her mind was engaged, she wasn’t going to be able to loosen up enough to find satisfaction. The wheels in her mind spun around an idea, one she wasn’t sure she should speak out loud. Would he think she was a total freak?

  Regardless of her doubts, she wanted badly to be with Rafe—she wanted so much to believe what he was saying, and there might be one way they could both enjoy their time together.

  “You’re open to anything?”

  “As long as it doesn’t involve serious physical injury, animals or shaving off my body hair, yes. Anything.”

  She laughed. He made her laugh so easily. That was a good thing, wasn’t it?

  “My doctor told me my little problem wasn’t anything physical—I’m mentally blocked. I can, uh, you know…help myself,” she admitted, and saw his eyes blaze with interest. “Then there are my dreams…. Nothing holds me back in dreams, so it’s only a problem when I’m awake, apparently,” she tried to joke, but it fell flat.

  “That’s good to know,” he said, not laughing, either, touching her face gently.

  “So I’m thinking, maybe we should try being together at night. You know, if you come over and sleep here, and I start to dream…I think I would be less…repressed, just then.”

  His brow furrowed, and she held her breath, afraid he would refuse.

  “I’m all for spending the night in your bed, Joy—but are you saying you want me to have sex with you while you’re sleeping?”

  She fidgeted, but decided to boldly state her case, since he had said he’d do anything.

  “Well, I mean, I have these hot dreams, and they’re about you anyway, and maybe if you’re there, then if things start up, and maybe my mind would be as receptive as my body. I do want you, Rafe.”

  He pulled on his jeans, taking a moment to think.

  “I see your point, but I wouldn’t want to startle you, or worse, while you’re sleeping. Chances are those dreams are about more than sex. Maybe if we spend some time during the day together, and get to know each other a little, that would help, too. You know, the Japanese sometimes make foreplay last all day long, or longer, before actually having sex.” He smiled naughtily. “I think we’ve gotten a good start in that area.”

  “Oh,” was all she could say. The thought of all-day foreplay with Rafe made her knees weak.

  “So why don’t we clean this mess
up and take a shower—” he looked down at the frosting dried to his chest “—and then we can head down to the shelter to talk with your friend.”

  “You want to come to the shelter?”

  “Sure, I want to help if I can.”

  Joy chewed on her lip, thinking. “I don’t know. It’s probably not anything you really want to bother with, seeing as you’re just here for—”

  “Joy,” he said, cutting her off.

  “Huh?”

  “Don’t close me out, and don’t make what’s between us low—I’m not just here for sex.”

  She cleared her throat. “I was going to say, as you’re just here for a few weeks.”

  “Oh. Whoops.” He slanted an embarrassed grin, but recovered quickly. “Well, I want to help, if I can. It’s less than a week before Christmas, and you have an ambitious plan, so I’ll be another set of hands. I’d like to be part of this with you, even if for a little while.”

  She didn’t know why having him come to the shelter was so difficult, as if she were sharing more with him now than her body. Still, his appeal was sincere. He’d listened to her all day and had some good ideas.

  “Okay. I appreciate that.”

  “Thanks. It’ll be a fun day. And then…” His voice trailed off, but he was smiling in a way that made her blood warm and her muscles loose.

  “And then?”

  “I want to spend the night with you, Joy—I’d like to spend every night that I’m here with you. I’ve got enough of an ego that I’d like you to be awake when I’m inside of you. I want you to know you’re with me, not just in your dreams, flattering as that is. I want you to know it, remember everything I do to you.”

  The way he said it made her melt. She remembered quite well what it was like when he filled her body with his own, and she would like to be awake for that, too.

  “I know. Me, too. Maybe this is a way to get to that point?”

  He pulled her close. “Sure…but first let’s go take that shower.”

  Chapter 10

  Joy sat in the meeting, trying to concentrate, but her focus was not on the job at hand. She made eye contact with Ken, nodded, scribbled down a note, and then her thoughts wandered off. She couldn’t wait for this endless meeting to cease. Who really cared about what colors of certain toys sold better than others? Did she?

  Not really.

  However, she did care about being able to pay her mortgage, so she made another effort, listening intently to what was being said, only to find her mind drifting off yet again.

  The routine tasks in her work bored her to death, if she were to be completely honest. She had more important things to think about, like the fund-raising event at Second Chance. Pam had loved the idea, but they were all busting their backsides to make it work—it was five days to Christmas and counting.

  Christmas had suddenly taken over her life. Rafe was decorating everything in sight—including her, she thought naughtily, knowing she’d never think about frosting the same way again.

  Along with Pam, they were throwing a Christmas bash at the shelter for the community at large, as well as businesses and organizations they wanted to reconnect with. It was a more personal way to put a kibosh on the rumors that might be spreading about Pam and to show how much good the place did in the community. Joy knew people would be impressed if they came and saw the place, met Pam and met the people who lived there.

  She had so much to do to get ready. She also had to polish her final presentation for her official inter view with the board for the promotion, and yet she found herself curiously less excited about that prospect. With Rafe, the holidays, Second Chance…there was so much going on, she was losing track of her priorities, she thought. Or they were shifting, which was a much more disconcerting prospect. She’d always known what she wanted, hadn’t she? Rafe was showing her a whole other side to herself that made her think maybe she should want more.

  Between the sheets of paper that comprised her notes, she sneaked out her list of people to contact, reviewing it, strategizing the best way to approach each one. She planned to purchase formal invitations—bought with her own money—to send in the mail as well. She didn’t plan on accepting a refusal from anyone, if it meant she had to drive them to the party herself.

  For the first time in as long as she could remember, she had an attitude resembling Christmas spirit. A sense of anticipation was in the air, though she knew that was mostly due to the prospect of seeing Rafe soon. They’d spent a cuddly night together the evening before, and she’d slept better than ever, wrapped up in Rafe’s arms as he stroked her back. No dreams had come to her—she’d been so exhausted that she had been too tired to dream. Unfortunately, she’d apparently been too tired for anything else, as well.

  When she’d awakened, Rafe had been propped up in bed, fully clothed, reading. He’d had shadows under his eyes, and she knew he hadn’t slept. For the first time, she’d realized the extent of his problem—people talked about losing sleep, having insomnia, but she realized that Rafe really was awake, all day and then all night, unable to sleep. She couldn’t imagine it. How did he maintain any energy at all? Yet he’d gotten out of bed and had gone for a run as she’d left for work. Astonishing.

  He’d left her with a kiss so hot she could still taste him; she closed her eyes and relived the moment. She wanted to rock his world, to ride him into exhaustion and give him the best night’s sleep of his life—it had become a personal goal.

  She grinned secretly as she played out the naughty fantasy in her mind, imagining what it might take to exhaust Rafe. When a vibration buzzed softly in the pocket of her suit jacket, she jumped, emitting a little squeak of surprise, her face flooding with heat as everyone turned to look at her.

  She plucked the cell phone out, smiling in apology and peeking at the most recent hot text message from Rafe. He’d been sending them all morning, part of his “all-day foreplay” plan. It certainly had spiced up her day, that was for sure.

  Reading the current message, she wiggled a little in her chair, completely blanking out on the fact that she was being addressed.

  “Joy? Are you with us?”

  She blinked, setting the cell phone down on the table. Then realizing the people next to her might see the text message, she quickly snatched it up, fumbling it in her fingers, nearly sending it spinning across the table. Holding her breath, she managed to finally stick the phone back into her jacket pocket as it started vibrating again.

  When she looked up, she saw that Ken was watching her impatiently.

  She hadn’t been caught in a situation like this since she’d been bold enough to pass notes in fifth grade and had had hers read aloud to the class. She wondered if Ken would have read her text message aloud if he’d grabbed her phone, and her naughty smile twitched again.

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  Ken cleared his throat. “I know it’s the holiday and everyone is distracted, but I asked if you had worked out the media campaign for the Pearson project?”

  “Oh, yes, of course,” she said, pulling herself together and distributing her copies around the room, then quickly starting to review the main points, when Ken interrupted her.

  “Joy,” he started, and she looked up quickly.

  “Yes?”

  “What is this? This isn’t the right paperwork.”

  She glanced down and realized that she’d made copies of the party-planning list for the shelter, not her media plan.

  “Oh, I’m sorry—this is for another project….” she apologized, her naughty humor disappearing as she gathered the papers. “I can go over the budget verbally, I know it like the back of my hand, I’m so sorry for this, there’s a lot going on this time of year you know—”

  “What project is this? I didn’t know we were planning a Christmas event,” he inquired.

  “It’s pro bono work for a homeless shelter on the north side.”

  Ken looked completely baffled. “Pro bono? What do you mean pro bono? We don�
�t do pro bono.”

  “It’s a personal project.”

  “How much time have you been putting into it?”

  “It’s on my own time—I’m running event organization for them. It hasn’t cost you anything,” she reassured, trying not to sound too biting.

  “Apparently, it costs us your focus on our work, and the projects we’ve put in your lap, I’d say,” Ken offered, and she sighed, having no real answer to that.

  “You’re right. Sorry.” Yet was she? She didn’t feel sorry. She felt annoyed. She irrationally wanted to tell Ken to cram it, but she knew he was right.

  “Well, mistakes happen. You can tell us the high points of the media plan, and we’ll want copies directly after the meeting.”

  She didn’t know how she managed to do it, but she did, and when the meeting was over, she couldn’t have been more relieved. Ken didn’t leave the room, however, but went over to the door, closing it before she had a chance to escape. Shit.

  “Ken, really, I’m sorry but—”

  “Joy, you’re one of our best. Maybe the best among your peers at the moment.”

  She hadn’t seen that coming and blinked. “Um, thanks.”

  “I mean it. You’re a strong contender for the new position, certainly the most qualified, but the question I need to ask you, is this the best job for you?”

  “What?”

  “There’s no debating you’re good at this work, Joy, but do you really want to do it for the rest of your life? The new position will take up even more of your time and energy, and while I don’t doubt that you have the mind and the talent for it, I do wonder if you have passion.”

  “Passion?”

  “Yes. You’re good at what you do, but I don’t often see you excited about it. Lately, that’s even more evident. I’ve worked with you for a while now, and you’re competent, efficient, but…it’s like you’re still holding something back. Honestly, if I had to choose, I’d go with someone who had more passion and fewer qualifications, because passion is what takes you the distance.”