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No small talk needed in a dream.
“Jack,” she murmured his name, liking the feel of it on her tongue, liking that she’d banished reality, loving that the feel of him was so real.
Smoothing her fingers over his face, she grazed deep stubble that would sting her cheek if she rubbed against him there. The strong, square line of his jaw remained as stubborn and immovable as ever, the rigid set broken only with a dimple centered in his chin. For old time’s sake, she touched the depression, but the contact was too full of old emotions when she only wanted passion. To lose herself in the feel of him.
It had been so long for her. No one else had compared to this man even though she’d searched for someone to fill the void in her heart.
But right now, she could have him again.
“Alicia?” His voice warmed her ear, his lips coming alive as she undulated against him.
“Yes,” she confirmed, wanting to be the only one he thought about. There’d been a time she’d been certain she was the only woman that mattered to him. “I’m so ready,” she whispered, rocking her hips against his.
Heat blossomed between her legs and she palmed his thigh to keep the pressure of him right where she wanted it.
“Alicia.” The cold bark of his voice knifed through the dream like a pin in a balloon, deflating all that sexed-up heat.
The warm body beside hers scrambled away. Hell, he scrambled right out of the bed. She blinked in the darkness, her pulse racing as her knee fell against the empty mattress without his thigh to prop hers up.What the…
A horrible thought occurred to her.
“I’m not dreaming.” She clutched the bedspread of the queen berth to her aching body, eyes straining to see in the cabin with only a sliver of moonlight coming through a porthole and a dull glow from a nightlight flickering out in the hall near the galley.
She prayed she would wake up. Prayed this was a fantasy turned mortifying nightmare, but as she took in Jack Murphy’s glowering expression above her, she knew she didn’t have enough imagination to conjure up all the fury she saw there.
Oh God. There must have been some mix-up…
“What areyoudoing here?” He flipped on an overhead light, frying her retinas and making her all too aware of the thin pajama bottoms she’d worn to bed with her tank top.
No, it was Jack’s forest green glare raking up and down her exposed gams that tripped a keen awareness of the limited wardrobe. Flipping the rest of the bedspread up and over her lower half, she sat up in the bed with a quilted cocoon.
“I might ask you the same question,” she shot back hotly, already imagining ways to strangle Keith for this. “Where is your brother?”
Not waiting for an answer, she hopped off the bed and marched past Jack, ready to duke it out with the only Murphy she’d remained friends with after the big break-up between her and Jack.
“He’s not here.” Jack halted her forward progress with one long arm, hauling her back into the bedroom. “And if he was, don’t you think you’re a littler under-dressed to speak with him?”
The feel of his arm across her stomach, even through double layers of quilt, burned into her skin. Her breast brushed his forearm for the briefest moment, but the memory of that contact remained in her tingling flesh. She tightened her hold on the bedspread, wishing she could squeeze away the sensation.
His naked chest was mere inches away from her in the small cabin, the berth just big enough for the bed and a space to dress. It occurred to her she’d actually kissed – licked – that chest just moments ago in her sleep. In fact, her hormones were still so hyped up and confused that the thought of her lips on his tanned skin made her mouth run dry.
“What do you mean, he’s not here?” With the lights on and her bare feet planted on the carpeted cabin floor, she realized something was wrong. Peering out the nearest porthole, she couldn’t see the marina lights. Dark ocean glimmered darkly back at her. They were out to sea. The beginnings of panic tickled the back of her neck. “Where is he?”
“You were waiting for Keith?” He ignored her question to ask his own.
And didn’t that help remind her why it was just as well they’d broken up? He was a man accustomed to having his own way.
“Yes, damn it.” The panic jumped higher, clogging her throat. “He’s supposed to take me to Bar Harbor and help me finalize a business plan on the way. I’m looking at a bed and breakfast up there--”
“Why?” he interrupted.
That couldn’t possibly be jealousy she heard in his voice. Frustration spiked, mingled with embarrassment, and all around made it difficult to maintain her patience.
“First, tell me what happened to Keith.” She worked up a glower of her own, recalling Jack could steamroll her if she didn’t give as good as she got with him. “Tell me where we are and why Keith is not here.”
She’d save the questions about why he felt it was okay to climb into bed with her after breaking her heart and leaving town four years ago. Damn him, she was the one who deserved some answers.
“Keith knew you were on the boat.” Jack didn’t seem terribly cowed by her threatening glare, but at least he’d paused in the inquisition to take out his cell phone. Tapping some keys, he appeared to scroll through a screen. “That must have been what he texted me about.”
