Untitled by Unknown Author

her body had affected them. And the way one of them had so easily picked her up and carried her off—almost like the heroine in a bad western.
       Yet through it all, there'd been no fear. She'd trusted them. And she could remember that trust quite clearly.
       Less clear, however, was what had followed in the dream. There'd been hands, lots of hands, stroking and caressing. Her nightgown was gone, and she'd stood nude between them, enjoying their touch— encouraging it. But more than that… She wasn't sure. It was more imagination than reality, and if she hadn't been so sure she was dreaming, she'd never have believed it of herself. She—boring little Gina—in the midst of a ménage. Willingly lapping up the attentions of the strangers who were so eagerly exploring her body. She'd wanted it. She'd wanted them .
       Was it possible? She doubted it. Apart from the fact her actions had been so out of character, her memories were…
       She thought for a minute, drifting in the quiet. Her memories were flat . That was the difference. At first, the dream had been so realistic it was almost scary, but the actual ménage had happened at a distance. When she'd felt the men pressed against her, felt their erections through the fine white silk of her gown, she'd really felt them. It had been dark and cold and the smell of pine trees had been so strong as to nearly obscure Nate's own particular scent.
       Nate?
       Had he been there, then? Or had the whole thing been nothing but her own overactive imagination? Too tired to force herself to think any more, she let the world retreat, a vague smile creasing her lips as she fell asleep. True or not, the dreams had been very, very nice.

    * * * *

    The sheet was cool beneath her, the unmistakable feel of crisp, freshly laundered linen scraping pleasantly on her skin. God, she was sensitive! She could practically feel the fibers in the cotton weave under her bottom, a rough caress up the small of her back that tickled her neck as she moved.
       She wriggled again, savoring the sensation. She really should sleep naked more often. It was such a nice feeling. Sensual. Her muscles protested as she stretched her arms high above her head, her legs spreading sinuously under the light covering.
       A shaft of light fell over her eyes, and she wrinkled her nose in disapproval. Surely it was too early to be morning. Her body felt suspiciously like she really had been out in the forest all night… Nah. She refused to believe it.
       "You're awake, then?"
       Her eyelids flew open. Okay, so maybe it hadn't been all in her dreams. After all, Nate was here in her bedroom. Admittedly, he was hovering kind of
    anxiously, but, nonetheless, he was here.
    And so was his brother.
       Apparently she looked just as horrified as she felt, because Nate instantly stepped between her and the very large man who looked suspiciously like the very large, very naked , man of last night's dreams. Ah, hell!
       "Shhh. It's okay; you're safe at my place." Nate bent and wrapped his arms around her, attempting to soothe her even as she was craning her neck, trying to confirm that there really was another man in her bedroom.
       No, not her bedroom. Nate's bedroom.
       She banished that thought as the other man moved into her view. He looked precisely the same this morning as he had last night, too. Not drop-dead handsome like Nate, but mighty fine in a very physical, in-your-face sort of way.
        Unfortunately, he was dressed this morning ..
       Where had that particular thought come from? She shook her head wildly. It was all very well and good to dream about a plethora of gorgeous men tossing her over their collective shoulders and taking her home with them; it was another thing entirely to actually have it happen to her.
       She gripped the sheet tightly, drawing it up and twisting it between her fingers as she remembered she was naked. In bed.
       And