"Lee, Marylin - Dream Lover" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lee Marilyn)

DREAM LOVER
By
Marilyn Lee
ISBN 1-929670-36-2
Copyright (c) 2000 by Marilyn Lee
A Renaissance E Books publication

Chapter One
Jade Johnstone could not look away. Her breathing was labored and her coral-colored wire-framed glasses were fogged. But she could not look away from the big, unmade brass bed. The man lying there was completely perfect - every tall, muscular, buck-naked inch of him.
She'd never seen anyone more beautiful. Not that she'd seen many naked men with which to compare him. Actually, she'd never seen any naked men. Not like this - in the breath-stealing, glorious flesh. Those Playgirl centerfolds she and Janny used to spend hours in their respective garages gaping at as teenagers didn't count.
None of those pictures had ever caused this almost painful tingling sensation along every nerve ending in her body. Just the sight of those bare broad shoulders tapering into a narrow waist and firm, unmistakably male buttocks left her gasping. And those long, muscular, hairy legs!
Thank God they were closed and he had his back to her. Of course that didn't stop her from imaging what must lie between them! A delicious spinning sensation surged into her head. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the doorframe.
Get a grip, Jade. Get a grip. It's just a naked man. No reason to lose it, even if you are the last twenty-five-year-old-almost-virgin in the city.
He grunted. Oh, no! He was awake. Her eyes flew open; she spun around and ran down the hall toward the stairs. Her flight was hampered by the bucket filled with a mop and other cleaning utensils she carried in her clenched right hand.
Any minute now he would come charging out of the bedroom after her, calling her a peeping Tomasina or a voyeur. And then she'd have lost a paying customer. She had almost reached the stairs leading down to the first floor when she dared to glance over her shoulder.
When she turned back, it was too late to avoid tripping over the wastebasket she'd taken from the bedroom at the head of the stairs when she'd first come upstairs. She fell hard. "Oh, sugar!" she muttered as she landed on her back. And then, "What in the Sam Hill!" as the top of the mop slammed into her left shoulder.
Almost immediately, she scrambled to her feet. Leaving her cleaning supplies where they'd fallen, she charged nosily down the wide staircase. She jumped past the last three steps and landed on her feet in the middle of the white, tiled front hall. If she could only reach the front door before he came out of his bedroom.
With her hand on the door, she stopped and looked over her shoulder. There was no sign of him. And no sound from his bedroom.
She leaned against the door and took several deep, relieved breaths. He was still asleep. She must be living right. Obviously, Reed Daniels was one of those lucky people who could sleep through an earthquake.
If she just got hold of herself, he'd never know how the owner of his cleaning service had stood in his bedroom door staring at his big, beautiful nude body while he slept.
And since he is asleep, there's no way he can know, she reminded herself. So don't go to pieces. Pushing herself away from the door, she ran lightly up the staircase. On the second floor landing, she quickly began gathering up her scattered supplies. She went back down the stairs and crossed the hall to the front entrance. She cracked the door, squeezed through, and stepped onto the front stairs, closing the door quietly behind her.
For a moment, she allowed her body to relax back against the steel door as she slowly breathed in the late April air, congratulating herself on her lucky escape. She glanced guiltily around, half expecting to find Reed Daniels' neighbors peeking out their windows. But this was a quiet, upper class neighborhood. At eight-thirty on Monday morning, everyone was at school or work, which, she reminded herself, is where she should be. Inside the house behind her - cleaning, not gawking. She went back into the house, this time deliberately slamming the front door and clanging her metal bucket onto the tile floor. She glanced up the stairs towards the second floor. Still no sound from him.
She frowned in annoyance and decided to clean the downstairs first. By the time she got upstairs again, he'd better be up or at least have had the decency to close his bedroom door. She wasn't going to be responsible if she saw that big, magnificent, naked body of his in the flesh again. She didn't think she'd be able to resist the urge to touch him. Just a little. Stroke a hand down his strong back. Caress his firm butt. Sneak a hand between his legs. Caress his...
Stop it, Jade!
What was he doing home anyway, she wondered as she began cleaning the downstairs. In the four months she'd been cleaning his house, she'd never arrived to find him home, although she had often longed to.
Their first and only meeting had taken place five months earlier at his office where they'd signed the cleaning contract and he'd given her a set of keys to his house and his alarm code. They'd only been together for ten minutes, but she'd known even then that she would be cleaning his house herself. With his thick dark hair, long curling lashes, dimpled chin, smoky gray eyes, handsome face, and warm, intimate smile, he was the stuff of which feminine wet dreams were made.
And just what do you think he'd see in you? she demanded of her reflection as she stalked past a beautiful gilded mirror hanging above the Queen Anne table in the front hall. True, she'd once been told that her eyes were liquid fire, her smile dazzling, and her walk enough to make a man follow her anywhere. The man who'd said those things had been intent on getting inside her panties. But after her one painful experience with sex, she was too cagey to be sweet talked into bed.
Even if Reed Daniels were attracted to cleaning women, it would be to someone as beautiful and sexy as Janny, who could easily grace the cover of any Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue.
An hour later, she squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and briskly headed up the stairs. Ignoring the dryness in her throat and her quickened breathing, she cleaned the hall and the other two bedrooms. But he didn't stir, even when she turned on the vacuum.
Finally, it was time to go back into his bedroom. She stalked over to the door and rapped her knuckles long and hard against the open door panel, only to be greeted by silence.
She peeked into the room. He was still asleep, lying on his stomach now. His long, muscular thighs were slightly parted, offering her a tantalizing view of the thick, rounded head of his manhood. She gasped and sank her teeth into her bottom lip. He was aroused!
She stood there for what felt like hours. Looking away was out of the question. She was on fire; weak with longing and mounting desire as if she was in the midst of another one of her hot wet dreams of him. Only this time, she wasn't sleeping or even daydreaming. He was really lying in front of her, gloriously naked.
Abruptly, he rolled onto his back. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth. Rising up from the dark, brown pubic hair, was the biggest, thickest arousal she'd ever seen.
Her knees buckled and her cotton panties were suddenly damp with a rush of moisture. The desire to touch him was uncontrollable. She stumbled across the floor to the bed and stood looking down at him.
Only then did she notice his shallow breathing and the beads of sweat on his forehead. Ignoring the desire clutching at her stomach, she reached out a tentative hand to touch his cheek and forehead. His skin felt hot and clammy. He was feverish.
He needed a doctor. She glanced over her shoulder to the night table on the other side of the big bed where she knew he kept his day organizer. Maybe his doctor's number was in there.
She'd started to turn away when she felt a strong, vice-like grip catch her hand. Surprised, she turned back to find Reed Daniels sitting up. Although his silver-gray eyes were open, his gaze was unfocused.
Before she could decide what to do, he reached out, caught her other arm, and lifted her off her feet. A moment later, she found herself lying flat on the bed, under his big, damp body; with his thick manhood throbbing hot and heavy against her stomach.
She should have been shocked, frightened, angry - certainly embarrassed if he had not been the focal point of her erotic fantasies for the last several months. But he had been and she was aware of an ache between her legs. She was about to find out what he was like as a real flesh and blood lover. A surge of need twisted her stomach into knots.
All thoughts flew from her head as his eyes closed, his dark head bent and he kissed her. His lips were warm, sweet, and insistent and she didn't need much persuasion. Her mouth blossomed open under his moist lips. She had never liked French kissing, but when his tongue brushed along her lips and dipped into her mouth to tangle and dance with hers, she felt the resultant jolt of pleasure through her whole body. His soft sigh and slight tremor let her know he felt it too.
While she was luxuriating in that delight, his big hands were moving over her body. His touch felt like hot, intoxicating silk; especially stroking the mounds of her breasts until her nipples hardened like twin peaks under her cotton blouse.
She shivered with need and wantonly pushed her breasts up against his hand. He groaned and, dragging his mouth from hers, he pushed her blouse up around her neck. Seconds later, he bent his head and, pushing aside her bra, took the tip of one of her breasts into his mouth.
An almost unbearable surge of heat shot through her at the contact. "Oh, yes!" she gasped as his warm, moist tongue began flicking against the already rigid tip of her aching breast. "Yes!"
Encouraged by her response, he hungrily took her breast into his mouth and began sucking on it. Desire flared strong and urgent in her. Gripping his hair, she cradled his head against her breasts. "Yes! Yes! Yes! The other one! Please!"
Licking his way slowly across her chest, as if he loved the taste of her skin on his tongue, he obediently gave her other breast the same sweet attention. All the while, his free hand continued shaping the narrow expanse of her waist, the flare of her hips and cupping her rounded bottom.
Suddenly, he made a small sound low in his throat that was pure desire and shifted his body slightly to one side. She froze as he pushed her short skirt up her thighs to her waist. She was bare legged. Now, the only thing between them was her panties. Then, even that flimsy barrier was removed when he deftly stripped her from bra to sandals.
His big hand moved between her thighs to cup her. Her lips parted in a wordless gasp. It had been an eternity since she'd felt a male hand there.
This was going too far. She should stop him. Push him away. Cry out for help. Struggle with him. Instead, she lay trembling with a shameless sense of anticipation, her desire evident by the moisture pouring from her body into his big, caressing palm.
Those incredible eyes of his were open again. Now he was staring down at her, devouring her naked body with his gaze. She had never seen such a look in a man's eyes - raw, open, sensual lust. It turned her into a mindless bundle of nerve endings with an overwhelming need to feel his feverish, naked flesh pressing against hers. Into her. Deep into her. Again and again.
She rained small, desperate kisses against his broad shoulders and his hard, brown nipples. The feel of his damp, warm skin under her lips and his husky groans excited her. She trailed a path of nibbling kisses up his throat, where she tenderly kissed and licked at his Adam's apple. She thrilled to the unmistakable desire she was unleashing in him. She could feel it in the heat of his penis pulsing so erotically against her. The feelings it engendered in her were maddening.