The warmth of his hand spiralled through her body, sending a buzz of expectancy to every nerve ending as she held her breath, not daring to move, not daring to murmur; just letting the sensual strokes from hip to knee stir the want deep inside her.
Hayley Tring loved this moment between sleep and wakefulness, when the dream was real, when she could feel it, savour it, her whole body floating effortlessly along poised on the edge of orgasm. When sensuality took over from the harsh reality of urgency and want, and time seemed to be suspended.
A sigh escaped her body and she shifted her hips slightly, anticipating the heat of his hand drifting up between her thighs, of his knowing fingers ?
?Hey, sleeping beauty, I knew you?d wake eventually.?
Shit. Every iota of dreamy want shot straight from her body as she went from slumber to wide awake. That ?eyes-wide-open? kind of wide awake. And all she could see was a broad chest with a sprinkle of damp, curly hairs. A broad chest that smelled of male, of sweat, of sex; a broad chest that she was close enough to taste. All she had to do was open her mouth, reach out with the tip of her tongue ?
Or there again maybe not, because it wasn?t a wonderful dream ? every mind-blowing memory of last night flooded back with crystal clarity. It was reality, going under the name of Tom.
Hayley groaned inwardly. Tom, maybe not the most gorgeous man she had ever set eyes on, but definitely a man she hadn?t been able to take her eyes off. A man she had undressed with her mind a million times before he?d introduced himself, which was probably why her brain had assigned him dream status. She knew what moth to the flame meant now. And it was the wrong time to get burnt, so completely and utterly the wrong time. Which was why he shouldn?t be here now, however knee-tremblingly gorgeous he was. Why she should have said no. And why, once she worked out how to speak again, she had to tell him to go.