Embroidered Fantasies t-5 Read online

  She settled onto her side and sighed. Her fingers traced the patterns of the tapestry.

  She knew she needed to switch off the lamp before she fell asleep. She couldn’t afford to waste electricity. She barely made enough to cover her bills as it was. Two minutes, she promised herself as she snuggled into her pillow.

  Two minutes.

  ~

  A noise startled her, jolting her into a seated position. The room was pitch black.

  She couldn’t see a hand in front of her face. But that was impossible. The streetlamp just outside her kitchen window usually gave her more than enough light to see by at night.

  Plus, she’d left a light on. Her heart pounded and sweat popped out all over her body as she listened.

  There it was again. A slight brush of fabric that sounded like it was coming from just inside her front door. She scrambled off the davenport, shoving aside the sheet and light blanket. The beat of her heart pounded in her ears, blocking out all other sound.

  She held her breath, trying to hear where the intruder was. She had five locks on the door. Why hadn’t she heard someone trying to break in?

  “Who’s there?” She’d meant for her voice to be strong. Instead, it had come out as a pitiful whisper.

  A low chuckle reached her ears and froze the blood in her veins. “You didn’t really think you could get away from me that easily, did you, Roxy?” Only Michael called her Roxy and she hated it.

  How had he found her so quickly? How had he gotten into her apartment? She couldn’t see him or hear him now. Didn’t know where he was. He was playing with her like a cat taunts a mouse before striking.

  Her hand fumbled for the phone, but in the dark she couldn’t find it. Her heart skipped a beat when the side of her hand struck it and sent it crashing. She fell to her knees, hands out, frantically patting the floor in search of the phone, her lifeline to help and the outside world.

  “You wouldn’t call the cops, now would you, Roxy? I just spent a year in prison because of you and I don’t plan to repeat the experience.” His voice was calm and matter-of-fact. It chilled her soul. He was going to kill her. But god only knew what he’d do to her first.

  “You’d better leave.” She needed to get to the kitchen. There were knives in one of the drawers. If nothing else, she could defend herself.

  Standing slowly, she inched her way to the kitchen, still not able to see a thing. Not that it mattered. The room was small and she knew the layout. The tile floor was cold against the soles of her feet as she moved quickly and quietly. Only two more steps and she’d be in the kitchen.

  She hit a solid wall and bounced back. Strong hands shot out and caught her, pulling her forward.

  “No!” she screamed, raising her hands to beat at his chest.

  “Shh,” a male voice crooned. “There is no need to be afraid. You are safe.”

  Several things registered at once in her muddled brain. The chest she was beating was warm and hard and very naked. It also wasn’t Michael. She glanced over her shoulder, unable to see her apartment in the shrouded darkness. “He’s going to kill me,” she whispered.

  At once the man’s demeanor changed. He thrust her behind him and a metallic whoosh filled the air. The stranger walked backward, forcing her to move. She didn’t know where he expected her to go with the kitchen counter only a few steps behind her.

  Except the counter wasn’t there. She kept waiting to hit it, but the expanse behind her seemed to open up into nothingness.

  Her stomach churned and her knees went weak. She lifted a shaky hand to her mouth to keep from screaming. Terror filled her. A flicker of light off to her right caught her attention. She turned toward it, needing to get her bearings. Around her the room began to take shape.

  She blinked, not quite believing what she was seeing. A fire crackled in a large stone hearth, illuminating gray stone walls. The texture of the floor beneath her feet changed. It was no longer tile, but harder and cooler. She suspected the floor was much like the walls.

  The stranger walked into her line of sight and she caught her breath. He was very, very tall. Even bigger than Michael. His shoulders were as wide as a doorway and his biceps were huge. Heavy bands of bronze wrapped around his upper arms and wrists.

  They flashed in the firelight as he sheathed his sword in the scabbard at his side.

  “You are safe.” His low voice reached deep inside her, comforting her in a way she hadn’t thought possible. She almost believed him.

  He unbuckled his sword belt and set it on top of a wooden table just off to the right.

  His feet were bare and he was wearing a pair of snug leather pants. He looked incredible.

  She raised her eyes to see the face of the man who had saved her. Before she could get a good look at him, a rustling sound came from behind her. She whirled around and came face-to-face with a huge four-poster bed. There were no curtains to soften the austere lines of the bed. It was huge. And there was a man, a naked man, rising from its depths.

  “What have you brought us, Brother?”

  When he spoke, she took an involuntary step back toward the man standing next to her. She didn’t know him, but she trusted him not to hurt her.

  “I heard a woman cry out and found her wandering in the hall.” The hall? That wasn’t right. “No, I was home.” A thought occurred to her. “Where am I?”

  She peered around the room, studying the man beside her and the one propped up on one arm, staring at her from the depths of the gigantic bed. It was all so familiar even though she knew she’d never been here before.

  The tapestry.

  Relief hit her and her knees went weak. She swayed and was quickly lifted into a pair of strong arms and carried to the bed. She’d be screaming her head off if she hadn’t suddenly realized she was dreaming.

  The nightmare about her husband finding her had been brought on by the phone call from Stacy. That was only normal. Instead of the nightmare coming to its terrifying conclusion, it had morphed into a dream about the two men from the tapestry. She’d earlier wished for someone to save her from her ex-husband. Who better than two fantasy men?

  She sighed and caught the scent of hot male, mixed with leather and something else. Something earthy and clean. She liked it.

  Her back hit the mattress and she stared up at her dream hero. His jaw was square, his features strong. She wished she could see him better, but there simply wasn’t enough light. His eyes were dark and intense. No golden boy like her ex. If she’d met this man in a dark alleyway, she’d have been terrified of him. But this was just a dream and here he represented safety.

  “Thank you for saving me.” She didn’t know why she was thanking him. It was a dream, after all. But for some reason it seemed important.

  He grunted and before she could blink, he’d shucked his pants and climbed onto the bed beside her. She caught a glimpse of rock-hard thighs and a huge erection.

  Roxanne swallowed hard. She wasn’t ready for this, not even in her dreams. The shifting of bedcovers behind her reminded her that there was another man in the bed.

  He snuggled closer and she felt his arousal, long and thick, press against her hip.

  She scrambled to the top of the bed, pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. It was a protective posture. A defensive move. With them surrounding her, there was nowhere else for her to go. “Please.” She thrust out a hand in front of her, as if that would stop them.

  The scowl deepened on the stranger’s face.

  “That’s what we want to do, my sweet.” She glanced at the man’s brother. They had to be brothers. The resemblance was too close for them to be otherwise. Plus, in the way of dreams, she just knew it was his brother. He offered her a soft smile. “Let us pleasure you.” His large hand settled on her thigh. Her breath caught in her throat.

  “We don’t want to take from you.” Her hero cupped her face in his hands. Leaning forward, he brushed his lips across hers. The caress was feathe
rlight, so soft she barely felt it.

  Arousal zinged through her, awakening parts of her body she’d feared would never be alive again. Her breasts ached and she felt a heavy pulse low in her belly. Cream slid from her core, dampening the crotch of her pajama pants. She licked her lips. His eyes darkened as he watched her. “I don’t understand.”

  The brother shifted his hand, sliding it beneath the hem of her shirt until it rested just below her left breast. Her heart raced. “Let us touch your breasts, lick your skin, taste the sweetness from between your spread thighs.” A shiver rushed down her spine, but this time it wasn’t from fear. She was aroused.

  Totally and completely aroused. And why not? This was a dream. Her dream. She was safe here. She was in charge.

  Her dark warrior brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. Her tongue darted out to taste it. His skin was salty and hot. A low rumble came from deep in his chest. Staring up at him, she nodded.

  Pure male satisfaction covered his rugged face. Not hesitating, he caught the waistband of her pants and pulled, whipping them away. His brother did the same with her top. In seconds, she was naked.

  A sense of vulnerability swept over her. It was just a dream, but she couldn’t stop herself from curling her legs upward to shield her body from them.

  “No.” Her hero was having none of it. He knelt on the bed in front of her and wrapped his hands around her ankles. His grip was gentle, but firm. Slowly, inexorably, he eased her legs away from her body, tugging them open as he did so.

  With his large body between her legs, she couldn’t close them. The position left her open and exposed.

  He leaned down and inhaled deep. “You smell hot and sweet, like a woman should.” His tongue snaked out, licking up one side of her damp folds and down the other. “Your cunt is juicy and ripe.”

  His crude words startled her, but his gentle touch held her captive. The expression on his face was one of wonder.

  The brother wasn’t about to be forgotten. He leaned down and brushed a soft kiss across her lips. They were both being so gentle it brought tears to her eyes. She blinked them back. She wanted to enjoy this dream, this fantasy of being protected, cared for and wanted by two exceptional specimens of manhood. She’d have enough reality to deal with in the morning when she awakened.

  He kissed the curve of her jaw and down her neck, licking her collarbone. Her breath caught in her throat as he continued lower, lapping at one of her swollen nipples. A low moan broke from her throat, startling her.

  Her tormentor gave a low laugh and latched onto her breast with his mouth, sucking strongly.

  Between her thighs, her dark warrior touched her with his tongue, slicking over her engorged folds. He found the nub at the apex of her thighs and flicked it. Her hips arched upward of their own accord. He blew softly on her heated flesh. She reached down and tangled her fingers in his hair, urging him closer.

  “Is this what you want?” His breath was warm against the lips of her pussy.

  “Yes,” she whispered. And it was. She wanted to feel like a woman again, a whole woman, one who could find pleasure in the intimacy of sex, even if it was only in a dream.

  Her warrior lowered his head again and caught her clit carefully between his lips and sucked. His brother cupped one breast with his hand, molding the firm flesh and caressing her nipple as he continued to tease the other with his tongue and mouth.

  Roxanne floated in a haze of sensual pleasure, her body alive with sensations, each one more intense than the last. Her breath was coming faster with each passing second.

  Her skin was slick with perspiration, each nerve ending pulsing, reaching for the explosive culmination at the finish line.

  Between her legs, her fantasy warrior touched her, rimming the opening to her channel with his finger before slowly sinking inside. The sensitive inner tissues were swollen and tight. He worked in and out until her body accepted his invasion, softening around his thick, long finger. She wondered what it would feel like to have his hard cock buried in her depths. He would fill her to overflowing.

  Then there was no time to think of anything but the pleasure suffusing her. Her warrior began to thrust his finger in and out of her core, quickly adding a second one.

  Roxanne arched toward him, wanting more even as her inner muscles pulsed and tightened around him.

  His brother lapped at her nipples, switching from one to the other, drawing her deep into his mouth, using his tongue to best advantage.

  Pressure built low in her body. She was so close to coming. The fingers pumping in and out of her channel moved faster. He sucked her clit between his lips, drawing hard just as his brother did the same at her breast.

  Roxanne screamed as every muscle in her body tightened and released. A flash of heat pulsed through her pussy, bathing her fantasy man’s fingers with her essence. She shook and trembled, her body not her own as her orgasm overtook her.

  When she came back to her senses, one brother lay with his head on her breast, lapping lazily at a distended nipple. The other sprawled between her legs, stroking her gently. Her fingers were still tangled in his long hair and she tried to free them without disturbing him. He raised his head from between her thighs and stared at her. His eyes glittered with undisguised lust.

  She shivered, not with fear, but with a longing that surprised her. She’d just orgasmed but she wanted more. She wanted her dark warrior. And his brother. What would have shocked and appalled her in her normal life seemed normal in her dream.

  Her warrior shifted onto his knees between her spread thighs. His cock jutted out in front of him, enormous and proud. The head was damp and she could see the veins pulsing down the thick shaft. Yet he made no move to impale himself in her.

  She wanted to touch him, to feel all that power throbbing against her hands.

  Roxanne reached out, but he seemed to be getting farther away rather than closer. She frowned as a noise buzzed in her ears, distracting her. Her warrior lunged toward her, his face fading before her very eyes. She tried to catch his outstretched hand, but met nothing but air.

  ~

  Roxanne sat straight up in bed, a cry of dismay echoing through her small apartment. The alarm of her clock radio blared out at her from the shelf on the bookcase and she scowled at it as she rolled out of bed to shut it off.

  She froze and stared down at herself. She was totally naked. Her pants and top were tangled in the sheets next to the tapestry. The light still glowed from her lamp, barely visible with the early morning sunlight streaming in through the window.

  “That was some dream.” She raked her fingers through her damp hair and took a deep, calming breath. And that’s all it was.

  She grabbed up her clothing and tugged it on before flicking off her alarm. Her body ached and throbbed, reminding her of just how real her dream had been. She’d actually orgasmed in her sleep. Incredible.

  Determined to put the dream and the fantasy warrior and his brother out of her mind, she tossed the tapestry onto the back of the living room chair. Getting into her daily routine, she folded her blankets and pulled the davenport back into a sofa, stowing the bedclothes in the storage area beneath it.

  That done, she headed to the bathroom. She needed a shower to wash away the effects of the night. It was morning. Time to face reality. There were no warriors to help protect her.

  As always, she was on her own.

  Chapter Three

  Roxanne was bone tired. They’d been extra busy at Joe’s today. One of the other waitresses had called in sick and Roxanne had ended up working for twelve hours instead of her regular eight-hour shift. In spite of her sensible shoes, her feet ached. She was hot and sweaty after hustling heavy trays around all day and was ready for a long, relaxing bubble bath. All she had to do was make it through the bus ride and short walk home.

  Thankfully, no one was seated next to her. She held her purse in her lap, her body swaying to the rhythm of the bus as it rolled down the city street. Resting her head ag
ainst the window, she longed to close her eyes but didn’t dare, fearing she’d drift off to sleep and miss her stop.

  Raising a hand to her mouth, she stifled a yawn. Her mind drifted and she smiled as a picture of two tall, strong men invaded her thoughts. All day long, she’d been unable to get last night’s dream out of her head. Memories of four strong calloused hands stroking her breasts and between her legs, arousing her to a fevered pitch, occurred at the strangest times during the day, making her flush. Pamela, one of the younger waitresses, had commented on it. Roxanne had passed it off as just the heat from the kitchen.

  Her breasts swelled, nipples pushing against the cups of her plain cotton bra. Her pantyhose were confining and hot after all day. She couldn’t wait to strip them off. Her entire body felt sensitized.

  Her dark warrior had touched her between her thighs. She swallowed hard as she remembered his phantom touch. Cream coated the crotch of her panties and she squirmed, emitting a low moan that startled her. Heat crept up her cheeks as she straightened in her seat and glanced around. Thankfully, no one was paying her any attention. Everyone was concerned with their own lives.

  A sense of loneliness assailed her. She was truly alone in a world of people. She liked the folks she worked with but wasn’t close with any of them. The few friends she’d had, she’d lost touch with after the death of her parents and fiancé and her marriage to Michael.

  Roxanne tugged her purse tighter to her body, saddened by what her life had become. It was as much her fault as it was the people she knew. After what had happened in her disastrous marriage, she’d kept people at arm’s length.

  No more.

  It hit her suddenly that she’d been living in a prison of her own making, keeping herself from truly living as some sort of punishment for having the bad judgment of marrying a man who abused her.

  She knew what the counselor she’d seen a few time immediately after she’d filed for divorce would say. Mrs. Dobson had told her over and over that it wasn’t her fault.