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She was awakened from her erotic dream to find herself being dragged from the bed and slung upside down fireman-style over Trevor’s shoulder. She blinked furiously, trying to clear the cobwebs.
“What are you doing?” This demand was delivered to the very hard, very broad back of…Wait a minute. Her dream man wasn’t real, was he? No, she reasoned, she must still be asleep after all. But with the well-muscled arm strapped across the backs of her thighs, she realized her predicament was definitely real.
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He locked her door and shut it tightly, making her flinch. Venom buildup returning, she thought, scowling as she watched him walk with a rigid preciseness that made the military uniform he wore seem redundant. But damn, if he didn’t fill that uniform out. And men in uniform didn’t even make the top ten on her list of things to fantasize about. “Well, that could change,” she murmured, mind wandering. Of course, in her fantasies the man in uniform wouldn’t be a rude, Neanderthal, hormone-inducing jerk. Well, except for the hormone-inducing part. That would probably be okay. And those eyes, those would work.
God, she was punchy. How had she let this happen anyway? Yawning fiercely, she let her head drop back on the headrest. She knew Kate Winchell, but only through Viv. Christy had met her fiancé, Mike, at a July Fourth picnic once. He was a former Special Forces guy, she couldn’t remember with what part of the military, but given the uniform, she guessed this was one of his pals. Her eyelids drooped and her mind was tugged back toward dreamland as she vaguely wondered if she and her blue-eyed Neanderthal Man would have hit it off if they’d met at a picnic. Maybe he’d wear that uniform…and let her take it off later, alone. Somewhere where they could have their own private display of fireworks. Oh, yeah, that would be great….
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