Page 99 of Falling Madly
In two minutes, he’d changed into his kilt, grinning at me in blue-gray tartan and nothing else. “Every man dies; not every man really lives.”
“Braveheart?”
He nodded, and I pulled off my black sweater, then my tank top, finally jiggling out of my jeans as I walked towards the office printer. I felt his gaze on my skin, as he gained on me, reaching me by the time I dropped my underwear on the floor by the bottom paper tray.
The front of his kilt bulged awkwardly. “You can’t hide an erection in that, can you?” I smiled, beckoning him closer.
“Not well,” he admitted, his eyes trailing down my body. “What exactly happened in that dream? Why were you naked by the printer?”
“Dreams don’t have to make sense.”
“True. So, you were next to the printer?”
“Sitting on it,” I said, biting my lip.
He hoisted me onto the printer, stepping between my knees. My hand rested on a button and the machine whirred.
“Sorry, it’s on. I tested it earlier.”
I smiled. “Perfect. I need it to know what’s happening.”
“So, whatishappening?” he asked, eyelids heavy, voice pure gravel. “Describe the dream.”
“I think we were in that stuffy little room at Wilde. It was always hot in there, so let’s say I was naked because I was hot. And you came in…”
“Wearing a kilt,” he finished.
I leaned my head against the wall of muscles that was his chest, feeling both embarrassed and excited. “And then you just had me right there.”
“I’ve been wondering why I had this printer, and now I know. I bought it off Wilde when they upgraded.”
I looked up in shock. “It’s the same printer?”
“The very same one.”
Uncontrollable laughter took over me. “I’ve had my arm inside it so many times!” I hiccupped.
“Paper jams?”
“Yeah. You have to pull out all these parts…”
“I know. I’ve done the same.”
“I guess I always wanted to defile this machine in some way.”
“Let’s.”
He trailed his mouth down my body, sucking my nipples, then moved down between my thighs. This was so much better than I’d ever imagined. In my dream, he’d been a sexy brute, lured in by my naked body. It’d been fast and forceful, an illicit office affair you could only ever have in your dreams if you wanted to keep your job and not overly complicate your life.
The real Trevor was something else entirely. He took his time, savoring every moment. He touched and teased me gently, responding to every sound I made.
“Dragonfly,” he murmured.
I rocked with him, my body humming in response like I was the one plugged into a power socket, not the machine under me. The delicious tension gathered, building until I was truly floating somewhere high above, suspended between his hands and mouth, legs dangling in the air. I lost sense of time. Maybe I lost sense of myself, but it wasn’t dangerous. It was perfect.
With his tongue dancing on my clit, I came apart, clutching onto his shoulders. I felt sunshine piercing my heart, as if I was floating above the clouds. Nothing had ever felt this good.
When he pushed the kilt aside and rolled on a condom, I gasped at the sight. It was my dream. He was making my dream come true. I throbbed in anticipation as he stepped closer, using an upturned plastic crate to reach the right height. Like in the dream, everything just worked out, and he pushed into me, taking over every bit of my body, releasing a low growl that resonated somewhere deep inside me.
