Soul Dreams by Desiree Holt

inside her. Before wrapping her legs around him and feeling him deep inside her body.
    Are the dreams he mentions like mine ?
    And if they were, who was the woman he dreamed about? Was it her? Did he have a lover he’d left behind in his self-imposed isolation?
    Enough with this. Why don’t I hit the Off switch for my mind and get ready ?
    Obviously, she couldn’t go to Blake Massie’s house in the shape she was in. He’d take one look at her and know exactly what she’d been doing. She turned on the shower full force and stepped beneath the spray, running the water cold enough to freeze all her body parts at first then warmer, so she could wash her hair.
    The bottle of wine she’d chosen sat in her fridge, chilling. She hoped the festive bow she’d placed on it wasn’t too much. But she had the feeling she was about to change her holiday season, and a little festivity might not be too bad.
    Not too bad at all.
     
    ***
     
    What am I doing ? I must be crazy .
    Blake sat in the big chair in his bedroom, replaying the Instant Messages in his mind. He checked his watch for possibly the hundredth time. Seven o’clock. The day had dragged by as if it had forty-eight hours in it. At least once every hour he started to send Nina a message to cancel the entire business. Tell her he was sorry, he’d made a mistake.
    But each time he’d talked himself out of it. He’d come this far. If it did end up being a mistake, he could email her his orders in the future, and she could keep delivering them to Grange as usual. Only, for the first time in two years, he had an actual desire to interact with another human being. And not just anyone, but a classically sexy woman who intrigued him beyond imagination.
    She hadn’t objected to the blindfold. Would she change her mind once she got here? Would she insist on Grange being in the room with them? Would he ? Would she be frightened of him? Intrigued?
    God ! What am I, sixteen ?
    In an effort to still his racing imagination and quiet his nerves, he closed his eyes.
     
    She was already so aroused the moment he touched her he knew she was ready for him. His tongue slid easily into her cunt’s hot, wet channel, her taste at once salty and sweet. She moaned beneath him and arched her hips, thrusting herself at him.
    He held her in place, his thumbs pressing into her hipbones, his fingers into the rounded cheeks of her ass. He fluttered his tongue inside her, loving the tiny cries she made when he did. She was so damn responsive.
    He slipped his hands around to the back of her thighs and pushed her legs back toward her breasts, opening her wide to him. He took a moment to admire the deep pink of her pussy, the rosy color of her clit, the slick wetness of her flesh. He wasn’t going to last much longer. He wanted to give her at least one orgasm before taking his own pleasure. But when her inner walls began to spasm, he couldn’t wait.
    Making sure the condom he’d rolled on earlier was still tightly in place, he rose to his knees, stared with hunger at her cunt, so open and exposed to him, positioned the head of his cock at her opening, and thrust —
     
    “Blake? You okay in there?”
    Grange’s voice and the knock on the door yanked him out of the dream. He blinked then realized he was damn glad he’d closed the door because there he sat in his boxers with his hand wrapped around his dick. Again. Holy fucking shit!
    “Yeah,” he answered. “I’m great. Getting ready to shower.”
    “You need any help?”
    Yeah, but not the kind you can give me . “No.”
    He still didn’t know why he’d done this, except maybe Thanksgiving—when his life had flipped upside down—was a time to move forward. Scared shitless didn’t begin to describe how he felt, but he didn’t plan to change his mind. In two years, only Nina Foster had been able to get him to look forward instead of backward.
    “Holler if you need anything,” Grange told him. “And don’t be late.”
    “Thanks,