Dream Lover

By Marilyn Lee

Inexperienced cleaning service owner, Jade Johnstone is content with her life until she meets her newest client, Reed Daniels. Although Reed appears indifferent, it's lust at first sight for Jade. She's content with her fantasies until she finds Reed asleep in bed. Should she boldly seize the unexpected opportunity and put herself on his radar?

Reed drives of a brief, intense interlude with an attractive stranger. When he encounters the woman again they have an explosive affair. Both enjoy it until Jade wants more from their relationship than Reed is prepared to give.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marilyn Lee Unleashed
• Release date: Mar 22, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393233022

Marilyn Lee

Marilyn Lee lives, works, and writes on the East Coast. In addition to thoroughly enjoying writing erotic romances, she enjoys roller-skating, spending time with her large, extended family, and rooting for all her hometown sports teams. Her other interests include collecting Doc Savage pulp novels from the thirties and forties and collecting Marvel comics from the seventies and eighties (particularly Thor and The Avengers). Her favorite TV shows are forensic shows, westerns (Gunsmoke and Have Gun, Will Travel are particular favorites), mysteries (loves the old Charlie Chan mysteries. Her all-time favorite mystery movie is probably Dead, Again), and nearly every vampire movie or television show ever made (Forever Knight and Count Yorga, Vampire are favorites). Marilyn has won numerous writing accolades, including a CAPA award for Bloodlust: Conquering Mikhel Dumont and the following Lub-Dubs Awards for 2009: Lifetime Achievement Award, In Blood And Worth Loving (Best erotic novel and best sci-fi/fantasy/paranormal Award. She loves to hear from readers who can email her at [e-mail] or who can visit her website, http://www.marilynlee.org. Visit her Facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/marilyn.lee.393950?ref=tn_tnmn) She has a Yahoo! Group called Love Bytes that readers can join by sending an email to [e-mail]

Book preview

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—at least not in the breath-stealing, glorious flesh. Those Playgirl centerfolds she and Melissa used to spend hours gaping at as teenagers didn’t count.

Her few sexual encounters, including the ones where she’d lost her vaginal and anal virginities, had not prepared her for the absolute wonder of a naked adult male seen with the light on.

None of her three lovers 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 imagining 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, girl. Get a grip. It’s just a naked man. No reason to lose it, even if you are probably the last and only twenty-five-year-old, horny, sex-deprived woman working hard at a second virginity.

He grunted.

Oh no! He was awake. Her eyes flew open. She spun around and ran down the hall toward the stairs. The bucket, filled with cleaning utensils, hampered her flight.

She feared he’d come charging out of the bedroom after her, berating her for having stared at him while he slept. If she were discovered, she would surely lose him as a paying customer. Several feet from the top of the stairs, she glanced over her shoulder.

As she turned back, she realized 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. Oh, sugar! she muttered as she fell hard. And then, What in the Sam Hill! as the top of the mop slammed into her left shoulder.

Breathing hard, she scrambled to her feet. Leaving her cleaning supplies where they’d fallen, she charged 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 rushed out of his bedroom!

With her hand on the entry door, she stopped and looked over her shoulder. There was no sign of him. The only sound audible in the entire house was her harsh breathing.

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 calmed down, 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.

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 gathered her scattered supplies. She descended the stairs again and left the house, closing the door quietly behind her.

On the front steps, she slowly inhaled the unusually warm early January air. She’d had a 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 a Monday morning, residents were either at school or work, which, she reminded herself, is where she should be. She should be inside the house behind her—cleaning, not gawking.

She went back inside, 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. Silence greeted her noisy reentry.

She frowned. She’d clean the downstairs first. By the time she returned to the second floor, 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 again. If she did, she doubted she’d be able to resist the urge to touch him...just a little...maybe stroke a hand down his strong back. Caress his tight tush. Sneak a hand between his legs to caress his cock...

Stop it, girl!

What was he doing home anyway? In the four months she’d been cleaning his house, she’d never arrived to find him home, although she had often longed to see him again.

Their first and only meeting had taken place five months earlier at his office where they’d signed the cleaning contract. He’d given her a set of keys to his house and his alarm code.

She’d spent less than thirty minutes in his office. The moment she saw him, she’d known she would be cleaning his house herself, which would increase her chances of seeing him again. 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.

Would he find her attractive? She stood in front of a beautiful gilded mirror hanging above the Queen Anne table in the front hall. True, she’d once been told her dark mocha complexion was flawless, her dark eyes sparked like liquid fire, her smile dazzled, and her sexy, please-fuck-me walk were more than enough to make a man follow her anywhere. The man who’d said those things, Jack, had been intent on getting her in bed. He’d succeeded and had taken her anal virginity later that night. After three months, during which she’d quickly grown to enjoy and look forward to anal sex, he’d wanted intercourse. When she’d refused, he stopped calling her.

She sighed. After three, painful, dissatisfying relationships, she had decided that just maybe her father was right. Maybe there was a virtue in waiting for the commitment of marriage before going all the way again.

So why was she wasting her time wondering if Reed Daniels was attracted to cleaning women? Even if he were, would he be attracted to a black cleaning woman? She shook her head. Get with the program, do your job, and leave.

An hour later, she squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and briskly headed up the stairs. Ignoring the dryness in her throat, she cleaned the hall and two bedrooms.

Finally, it was time to go back into the master bedroom. She stalked over to the door and rapped her knuckles long and hard against the open door panel. 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 peek of the thick, rounded head of his cock. 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. Her body burned, her pussy ached. She felt 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, and even more gloriously aroused.

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 manhood she’d ever seen. Manhood? Oh, no. That bad beauty was a cock. A big, glorious, fully erect cock she longed to feel sliding between her legs and invading her pussy.

Her knees buckled and a rush of moisture dampened her cotton panties at her lustful thoughts. Inflamed with a desire to caress his cock, she stumbled across the floor to the bed and stood staring down at him.

Only then did she notice his shallow breathing and the beads of sweat on his forehead. Ignoring the yearning tightening her stomach muscles, she reached out a tentative hand to touch his cheek and forehead. His skin felt hot and clammy.

He needed a doctor. She glanced at 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. Instead of his organizer, she saw a sleek, black case she suspected held a PDA and a pair of briefs.

Blushing, she’d started to turn away when she felt a strong, viselike grip catch her hand. Surprised, she turned back to find Reed Daniels sitting up. Although his smoky 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. The feel of his cock resting against her stomach left her breathless.

A less sexually deprived woman, one who hadn’t spent so many months weaving graphic, erotic fantasies around him, might have been shocked, frightened, or embarrassed. She was excited, certain she was about to find out what he was like as a flesh and blood lover. A surge of need twisted her stomach into knots and made her pussy ache.

She gave herself a silent dressing down. He was sick and all she thought about was her own selfish desires! She pushed against his shoulder.

All thoughts but the most carnal were driven from her mind as he lowered his head. She closed her eyes and sighed softly as his mouth brushed against hers before his firm, sweet lips settled against hers. Her mouth blossomed open under the moist insistence of his 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 a resultant jolt of pleasure sizzling along each of her nerve endings.

While she luxuriated in the delight of lying under his naked, fully aroused body, his big hands moved over her. His touch felt like hot, intoxicating silk. Rolling them onto their sides and keeping his mouth moving against hers, he stroked her breasts until her nipples hardened like twin peaks under her cotton blouse.

She shivered with need and wantonly arched her body. He groaned. Dragging his mouth from hers, he pushed her blouse up around her neck. Seconds later, he urged her onto her back again, bent his head and, unhooking her front-fastening bra, took her right nipple between his lips.

An almost unbearable surge of heat shot through her. His warm, moist tongue flicked against the already rigid tip of her breast. She shuddered. Oh, yes! Yes!

Seemingly encouraged by her response, he hungrily pulled her breast into his mouth, gently sucking it. The fingers of his other hand rubbed against her left nipple.

Desire flared strong and urgent in her. Slipping her fingers through his dark 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. He slid his other hand down her body, over her hip to palm her ass.

He made a small sound low in his throat that was pure desire and shifted his body slightly to one side. The ember heat in her pussy blazed out of control when he pushed her short skirt up her thighs to her waist. She was bare legged. Even in winter, she never wore hose except in frigid temperatures. The only thing between his hard cock, pulsing against her thigh and her pussy, was her panties. Then even that flimsy barrier was removed when he deftly pulled off her panties and tossed them aside.

His big hand moved between her trembling thighs. His fingers parted her wet slit and slipped inside her. Her lips opened in a wordless gasp. It had been an eternity since she’d allowed a man to touch her pussy. He wasn’t just touching it. He was finger fucking her.

This was going too far. She could not allow him to fuck her. She should stop him; at least long enough for her to roll over onto her stomach, spread her legs, and offer him her rear. The thought of his big, hard cock pushing into her ass sent a shiver of lust through her. Anal sex with him would probably hurt like hell, but it was a pain she would joyfully embrace.

Instead of doing anything to discourage him, she lay trembling with a shameless sense of anticipation, her desire evident by the moisture seeping from her pussy into his big, caressing palm.

Those incredible eyes of his were open again. He stared down at her, his gray gaze devouring her naked body. 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. Into each and every one of her orifices—her mouth, her ass, and dear lord, her neglected pussy.

Her hunger for him, fed by months of erotic fantasies, made nonsense of any thought of stopping him. Her only regret at what was about to happen was that she wasn’t on top. On top, she