I'll See You In My Dreams (Hell Yeah!)

by Sable Hunter

  “Ride me, Presley Love.”

  He raised his hips, adding to their pleasure, urging her to move. She followed his lead and moved back and forth on top of him, her too-sensitive folds dragging over his groin. Oh God – she was losing her grip on reality. The look on his face was worth everything to her, he was lost in the throes of pleasure – they both were. Pulling from her grasp, his hands bit into her hips – molding – clutching – controlling her movements as her clit drug back and forth across his pelvis. “Spank me,” she invited, surprising herself. God, she was becoming a wanton!

  “My pleasure,” he almost snarled at her, but he wasn’t mad, far from it. The spanking began with heavy pats, rubs and caresses, but she wanted more.

  “Spank me,” she reiterated.

  Okay, little girl, he thought. Using one hand to warm the soft flesh of her behind, he brought the other one around to tickle her clit. Two could play at this game. Gradually, slowly – the little slaps became more erotically heated, not burning her flesh, but setting off a wildfire that raged through her veins. It was too much! She tried to hold back, she wanted it to last, but it was impossible. “Zane!” she screamed as her pussy began to vibrate and spasm.

  “That’s my baby, cum for me!” he commanded. One slap to the side of her ass caused her to cry out again.

  “Zane!” He felt her pussy clutch his cock like a tight little fist, milking him into ecstatic oblivion.

  “You’re mine, Presley,” Zane vowed. “You’re mine. No one else’s.” Holding her steady, he thrust upward impaling her over and over, a powerful pounding that prolonged her orgasm and shot his climb to ecstasy rocketing out of control. With mindless thrusts he let it happen, the white-hot blaze of glory that shot his cum deep up inside of her, exploding bursts of rapture that had him bellowing incoherent words of possession and intent. “Never – gonna – let you go. Mine. Mine. Mine!”

  Presley took it all in, every bit, tucking the words in her heart where they belonged.

  Easing her off of him, he stood. “Rest, my love. Tell me how many steps to the bathroom and what’s in my way.”

  “Let me help you.”

  “Just tell me.”

  “It’s one room, Sugar. And there’s nothing ahead of you but a couch to your right. Walk straight ahead ten steps and touch the screen, the tub, sink and potty are right there. The tub is in the corner, the commode is between the tub and the sink.”

  “Where are the wash cloths?”

  Damn, he looked good striding across her room. His ass was tight and that instrument of pleasure that hung between his legs was still large enough to make her pussy tingle at the sight. “They’re under the sink on the left. You need to let the water run for a few seconds, it’s slow to warm up.” She’d get up and shower with him, but she didn’t have that much energy. Heck! She needed to take out the bed; they couldn’t sleep on the couch all night. Was he staying the night? Might as well ask.

  “Are you staying with me tonight?” she called out.

  Zane was warming two wash cloths. With one he cleaned himself and the other one was to clean up his little kitten. “I’m staying if it’s okay with you,” he answered.

  “Good. I want to keep you.”

  Her lilting voice answered any question he might have had that he was welcome. Welcome – what a wondrous concept. “Here I come,” Zane announced, stepping slowly, trying to ascertain how the layout had changed since she had pulled the sofa apart. “Am I clear?”

  “Dang, Baby,” she reached out for him. “I forget; I’m sorry.”

  “Really? You forget I’m blind?”

  Presley clasped a pillow to her front, afraid that she had offended him. “Yes, I’m sorry. I’ll be more conscientious.”

  “No,” Zane shook his head. “That pleases me more than you’ll ever know.” How could he make her understand that her forgetting he was different, handicapped, or less than other men – meant everything to him. He longed to be normal. Zane longed to be just a man. Presley’s man. “Lay down and let me clean you up.”

  “What?” she didn’t understand.

  “I am taking care of you. Don’t you remember me saying that you were ‘mine’?” There was humor in his voice, but he was as serious as a heart-attack.

  “You don’t have to,” she began, but she was getting into position as quickly as she could. Presley wouldn’t miss this for the world.

  Zane crawled in beside her, throwing a towel at the end of the bed, his left hand raised with the warm cloth spread over it. Reaching out, locating her body, he smiled. She had readied herself for him, spreading her thighs, splaying all that lush womanhood out for his delectation. “There you are,” he placed an anchoring palm on her thigh and took the washcloth and gently wiped her pussy. As he did so, he kissed her all over – neck, breast, arm, stomach. Then he dried her. Wrapping the wet cloth up in the towel, he tossed them to one side. “Scoot over, make room for me.”

  “Gladly,” she pulled back the covers and held them up for him to get in beside her. He might not realize it, but she would make as much room for him in her life as he wanted.

  *****

  Adam Barclay stood on Kendall’s porch with the police. Everything Presley had told him had been true. He had conferred with the PI, the chief investigator and the DA. And it had all been done under wraps. Hopefully their suspect had no idea they were coming, and thus no chance to cover his tracks or hurt Laney, if she was still alive.

  Instead of banging on the door and yelling ‘Police!’ like in the movies, all of them stepped back and one knocked politely on the door. Adam held his breath. For weeks he had stared at Laney’s face and watched that damned video and mourned the fact that he had come into her life too late to save her. And now – miracle of miracles – there was the slightest chance she could still be alive. It was a long-shot, but Presley had given him enough reason to hope. So here they were. His whole body was taut with adrenaline. The police were on their mission to gather evidence, but he was headed to the backyard to look for any clue that Laney might be somewhere on the property – alive. Criminals usually did not change their modus operandi; they tended to keep their techniques and habits intact and work only to perfect them.

  Hell, he hadn’t even taken time to call Zane. Hopefully, Presley would clue him in. Or maybe he would be the one to call with good news.

  “I don’t have any Cocoa Puffs,” Presley explained slowly. “I have Raisin Bran.”

  “Rachel is a good cook, but she doesn’t approve of cereals with high sugar content. I like Cocoa Puffs.”

  Presley began to giggle. She was so happy. Sitting at her breakfast table was the sexiest man in the world and if he wanted a kid’s chocolaty cereal, that’s what he would get. “I tell you what, there’s a store just down the street, you sit tight and I’ll be right back.” She was already dressed, so Presley grabbed her purse and stood, about to take off on a mission of mercy.

  “Not so fast,” he pulled her back into his lap. “I think I can get my sugar fix right here,” he kissed her soundly on the lips. “How about you and I pick up a selection of good cereals on the way to my house tonight? I want you to spend the weekend with me.”

  “Really?” she pushed a lock of beautiful dark hair off his forehead. “I would like that very much.”

  “Let’s go on to work and stop at a donut shop and get the biggest, sugariest cinnamon rolls they have!” His gleeful expression reminded her of what she had in the oven.

  “Let me up,” she wiggled. “I have something you want.”

  “Damn straight,” he popped her on the butt.

  “No, silly,” she pulled out the sticky buns. “Let me microwave this and you can tell me how talented I am.” With a few economical movements, it was a small kitchen, after all – she placed her offering before him.

  Zane sank his teeth into the luscious pastry. “You are a goddess,” he proclaimed. “I am in love.”

  The words hung between them. She said nothing, and h
e didn’t seem to realize he had said the magic phrase. Oh, they were spoken in jest – she realized that. But still her heart quaked with excitement. She searched for something to say to fill the silence while he enjoyed the sweet treat. “I called Adam last night, I think I might have found a connection between Laney Taylor and a cold case.”

  Mid-bite, Zane stopped. “What did you say?”

  Presley explained more in depth. “Right after you hired me; you let me look at the Taylor file, including the video Laney made with Lieutenant Rodriguez. Something about it bothered me, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. It took me a while, but I finally figured out that I had seen the star pattern burn marks on her neck before. After a few searches, I found some old articles on another case where a woman had been abused and tortured and buried alive in a storm cellar in their backyard. The man responsible was not caught, he disappeared. Unfortunately, the woman didn’t survive – but it was estimated that Chelsea had been kept in her underground prison for almost two weeks. I may be totally wrong, but if Kendall and Kershaw are the same man – Laney might still be alive.”

  Carefully, he laid the uneaten bite down on the plate. His mind raced with the possibilities. Finding her hand on the table next to him, he picked it up and kissed it. “You are amazing.” If she was correct, Presley had just saved a woman’s life. Pulling his cell-phone from his pocket, he dialed Adam. After six rings, his partner finally answered.

  “Barclay.”

  Whatever was going on, the man was out of breath. “Where are you?”

  “I’m standing by a stretcher. We found Laney Taylor and she’s alive. When you see Presley, kiss her for me. She solved the case.”

  “Hot Damn!”

  There was a festive atmosphere at Saucier & Barclay the next day and Miss Presley Love was the star. Zane was so proud of her, but she refused to take the compliment. Her position was that it had all been pure coincidence, not talent. If she hadn’t been living in southeast Texas at the time of the first crime, and just hadn’t happened to follow the case closely because she was interested in the legal system – she would never have put two and two together.

  Zane and Adam did not agree.

  After lunch, Zane insisted that they take a half day off. He said he wanted her to see the new colt and spend the weekend with him. They also needed to firm up their plans for the conference that started bright and early on Monday morning. In fact, they’d be traveling to the Canyon of the Eagles resort after lunch on Sunday. Presley had gone shopping for a few more appropriate clothes and a few items that she didn’t usually splurge on like a new purse and some new make-up.

  “Are you ready to go?” Zane stuck his head in the door, a big smile on his face. Rex stood by him and bounced once on his front feet. Their good mood was contagious.

  “I sure am,” she grabbed her laptop and a brand new brief case she had acquired for just such an occasion. “This is going to be like a slumber party, isn’t it?” She was kidding, teasing Zane was fun. She so enjoyed playing with him.

  “Hahaha,” he retorted in his own teasing tone. “I don’t think we’re gonna do much slumbering, you sexy thang.” He popped her on the rear when she got close.

  “How do you do that?” she laughed.

  “I got your cute little ass on my radar, Baby.” As they made their way out to Sherwood, Presley couldn’t help but notice the envious glances she was receiving from other women in the office. And as Zane stopped to talk to a client who called his name, she couldn’t help but overhear a conversation behind her.

  “Poor Zane, I can’t believe he’s taken up with that pitiful creature.”

  “Yea, if he could see her, he wouldn’t touch her with a ten foot pole.”

  “Well, you know what they say . . .”

  “What do they say?”

  “There are none so blind as those who cannot see.”

  The two women cracked up and Presley drew into herself, trying to be just as small as possible. She didn’t turn around, but the gossipy women had to have known she could hear them. They just didn’t care.

  When Zane was ready to continue on, Presley was much more subdued. He didn’t seem to notice but kept up a running commentary with Sherwood on the weather, local politics and the price of gasoline. She occupied herself by petting Rex and watching the scenery go by. A gentle buzzing noise brought her out of her reverie, “Hello.”

  “I have a transfer call for you, Miss Love. Jessie McCoy would like to speak to you.” It was Melody, the receptionist.

  “Hello?”

  “Presley, hey!” Jessie’s voice sounded fairly happy. Even though they all still were tore up over Aron’s disappearance, it was good to know they were able to go on with their lives.

  “Hi, Jessie. How are you?”

  “We’re coping. It’s not the same, but we haven’t given up.”

  “Of course not, how’s Libby?”

  “She’s fragile, but very brave. Actually, that’s what I’m calling about.”

  Presley put her hand on Zane’s knee. He and Sherwood had stopped speaking and she knew he was aware she was on the phone with one of his friends. “Is there something we can do to help?”

  When she said ‘we’, Zane covered her hand with his in support.

  “Do you remember us mentioning a baby shower for Libby? And that we wanted you to come?”

  “Yes, I do.” Presley had just assumed the shower would be cancelled. She hadn’t heard any more about it.

  “We debated even having it, but I think Libby needs a show of support. And gifts for her baby boys would make her happy. She needs to know she has friends and that we love her.”

  “When will Libby’s shower be?” Presley knew she and Zane had plans. They were going out of town on Sunday, but there was no doubt in her mind that he would want her to go to the shower, if possible. She leaned in to him so he could hear the conversation and got amused when he used it as an excuse to cuddle.

  “Tomorrow night, I know that’s quick and it’s only going to be close family and friends. But we sure would appreciate if you’d try to be here.”

  “Tell her yes,” Zane whispered in her ear.

  “What can I bring? Would you like for me to make a cake?”

  “No, you don’t need to do that,” Jessie laughed. “Although, I have heard amazing stories about your baking skills. All I need you to bring is yourself and a gift if you’d like to. Either way, we just want you to be here.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it. What time?” Jessie told her the rest of the details and hung up.

  “Sherwood, we need to make a stop at the mall, if you don’t mind.” Zane requested.

  A trip to the mall with Zane was a blast. She never laughed so much in her life. He told one funny story after another. As they made their way from the ground floor to the third where the baby boutique was, he kept her in stitches.

  “You’ll have to meet one of my cousins – the good one; I have two others that aren’t so hot. She’s a hoot! Her name is Willow and she’s a doctor in New Orleans.” She was also the one who had shaken the foundations of his world a few days ago. Zane was still trying to process what she had told him. “Willow has never married. She’s two years younger than Kane and I, and as pretty as a picture, but she’s more confident in her ability as a doctor than she in is her worth as a woman.”

  His voice trailed off as if he were remembering something that bothered him. Presley didn’t interrupt and in a moment he continued with his story. “Anyway, let me tell you what happened to her just recently. Willow has a dog that she thinks the world of. That dog is more important to her than any family member could ever be. He’s a fat wiener dog named Oscar. Anyway, a few weeks ago, Willow decided to dye her hair. She has long dark hair, but occasionally she’ll get a wild idea and decide she wants to go auburn or streak it or something. And Willow is too tight to go to the hair salon to have it done correctly.”

  “I thought your family was well-off.” Oops, she probab
ly shouldn’t have said that, but Zane didn’t act like it mattered.

  “Willow has enough money to do anything she wants to, but she still pinches every penny till it screams. Well, the other day she went out on the porch to dye her hair and she’s not the most coordinated of women. By the time she got through, she had dye on the porch and on the dog and on five of her seven cats.”

  “Did they appreciate their new look?”

  “No,” he snorted, “but they are used to it. The dog, however, is central to the story. Oscar was ambling about the yard while Willow applied the dye. He’s so fat, he doesn’t go far, but there’s always a chance he might wander off so Willow watches him like a hawk. She lives out in the country between New Orleans and Madisonville and she’s always afraid an alligator is going to eat him or he’s going to get picked up by dog-nappers or some such nonsense. In other words, she’s a worrier.”

  “Did you inherit that quality?”

  “No, Baby-Cakes, I’m perfect,” he said with a straight face.

  “What happened next?”

  “When she finished dyeing her hair, she and Oscar went back in the house and Oscar piled up on the couch and went to sleep. Willow piddled around and did some chores, careful not to get the dye on anything in the house. After forty-five minutes, she got into the shower and rinsed off the hair dye. Now here’s the kicker – Willow never forgets anything. Her memory skills were legendary at Tulane, it was purported that she had a photographic memory.” Zane laughed again, he was enjoying telling his own story. Presley clung to his arm and stared up at his face, loving everything about him. “Well, that day was the day her photographic memory card filled up, because as she was drying off – it hit her – she had left Oscar outside. She panicked.”