Six Hot Summer Nights. Leslie Kelly
his family—Bella, with her mother’s dark wispy hair and almond-shaped chocolate eyes, and Mia with her glow that never ceased to clutch his heart.
He knelt down beside the plush rocker they’d ordered on their trip to Italy. “You’re going to have to let her sleep on her own, you know.”
Mia’s lips brushed the top of Bella’s head. “I know. I just want her to know how much she’s loved.”
“I’m sure she knows.” Bronson wrapped an arm around Mia, leaned his head against hers and watched his child sleep, nestled against Mia’s chest. “I love you, Mia. Love you more every day.”
“I love you, too.”
“I just hung up with Anthony.”
“Bella’s a heavy sleeper. Tell me.” Mia’s rocking slowed. “Did you ask him to work with you on your mother’s film?”
“We’ve talked about it. We’re taking this one day at a time. We know how important this is to Mom, and we can’t let our past differences affect the movie. We both want this to be the best film either of us have ever produced and directed.”
Mia adjusted the white blanket over Bella’s tiny hands. “I think that says a lot about where the two of you are now in your journey.”
“Yeah, it does.” Bronson cleared his throat. “I want him to help me produce it, not just direct.”
Mia’s misty gaze came up to meet his. “Oh, Bronson. That’s wonderful.”
Bronson’s heart clenched at the sight of his wife, his daughter and this talk of producing a movie with his half brother. “I haven’t asked him, but I plan on it.”
“I’m so happy for the two of you.”
Bronson kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m happy for me, too. I never imagined I could have everything I ever wanted, but I do.”
Mia’s smile lit her up from within. “Trust me, I know all about dreams coming true.”
He’d never been in a situation like this before …
But really, what was the big deal? Jason thought. So he and Christy had been dreaming about each other. They were right in the middle of the ‘sex-all-the-time’ part of their relationship. Of course they’d dream about each other.
But the exact same dream? That wasn’t possible. But then again, it kind of explained why he’d had a dream about being a spa guy. A naked spa guy. That was obviously Christy’s contribution.
Jason grinned when he thought about that, choosing to focus on the fact that she thought he was hot. That she’d thought he was hot before they’d officially met. That was cool. Still …
God, he needed a run.
He ran. He swam. He saw his therapist, to whom he said absolutely nothing about his dreams. He was freaked out, but he wasn’t stupid. Talking about shared dreams would be career suicide, especially in the military. They did, however, talk about Christy and what was going on between them.
In the end, Jason agreed with the doc: women were good. Sex was good. He should stop worrying and just enjoy it.
Which worked out great … until he met her for dinner later.
USA TODAY bestselling author KATHY LYONS has made her mark with sizzling romances. She adores unique settings, wild characters, and erotic, exotic love. And if she throws in a dragon or a tigress here and there, it’s only in the name of fun! An author of more than thirty novels, she adores the fabulousness that is Blaze! She calls them her sexy treat and hopes you find them equally delicious! Kathy loves hearing from readers. Visit her at www.kathylyons.com or find her on Facebook and Twitter under her other penname, Jade Lee.
I have a friend who puts great stock in her dreams. She considers them messages from beyond. Me? I think my dreams are the flotsam and jetsam of my mind, pulling random stuff together and presenting them as a story because that’s what I do. I put stories together from random stuff.
But once, I had an erotic dream. Okay, okay, maybe not so much an erotic dream as a dream about a facial that I was getting for my birthday. But by the time I woke up, I had this great idea about a couple of strangers sharing hot dreams. I mean, do you actually confess to the stranger, “Hey I had this great dream about you last night”? Heck no! So how long before you fess up? How intimate do you get in the real world before the dream world makes an appearance?
When I told my friend about it, she asked me to think about what purpose those images could have. What is the underlying message in a series of erotic dreams? From there, well, Night After Night … was born.
I hope you enjoy your nights as much as Christy and Jason do!
Best,
Kathy Lyons
CHRISTY BAKER WAS HAVING a great dream. She knew it was a dream because when, honestly, would a hot marine step into an esthetician’s room and start giving her a facial? Especially since he wasn’t wearing any clothes.
Yowza! Ever since she’d hit puberty while living on a military base, she’d had fantasies about soldiers. Didn’t matter what branch of the military so long as they were half-naked and ripped. And as she got older, the “half” part of naked disappeared.
Hence the awesome dream right now of a naked marine gently slathering sea-something onto her face. She was lying on a heated, cushioned table while he slowly stroked therapeutic mud onto her face and her toes curled in delight. Then she let out a purr of appreciation. It was a dream, right? She could purr if she wanted to. He looked down at her, his blue eyes sparkling with humor.
“So you like this stuff, huh?”
“Come over this way.” She reached for his bulging bicep and tugged him down by the side of the table.
He complied, and oh, yes, ripped abs, sculpted torso, and a cute dimple in his left cheek. Sadly, she couldn’t see the lower half of his body, but she was sure it was equally impressive.
“Much better,” she said.
“You know this is a full-body treatment, right?” he said, flashing that dimple again.
“Of course it is,” she said. Because this was an awesome dream.
“Then just close your eyes and relax. Let me do all the work.”
“I leave myself in your capable hands,” she crooned as she closed her eyes and gave herself up to the experience. Except, of course, it wasn’t nearly as much fun without the view, so she opened them a moment later.
He was by the sink, his back to her and his buttocks in full display. Was that a tattoo of a swallow on his hip? It didn’t matter. The tat just made him all the more mouthwatering.
He was mixing the mud, and she caught a flash of his large hands in and out of stuff that looked like rich, dark chocolate. Soon those hands and that stuff would be all over her body. Best. Dream. Ever.
He must have known she was watching, because he looked over his shoulder at her and flashed her a wink. “This will take just a second. The best stuff comes when you’re fully ready.”
She