He starred in almost allof my dreams in what must have been a pretty long nap.First he wasin my car.I was driving.Or maybe he was driving.And then I thinkhe was upset about something, but I have no idea what, and I thinkI hugged him?I don't remember the details.
But then Robin was there,and Sam was gone, and Robin did what he always does, until Samreappeared, but he couldn't hear my screams.Robin went after him,and I begged him to stop, but… butwhat?
The next thing I rememberthe scene had changed, and Robin was gone, but Sam was okay.He hadstopped him, and he was telling me everything was okay, that Robincouldn't hurt me, and that I was safe.And I really did feelsafe.
God, I wish I could remember more.As much as I remember fromthat last dream.Though I sure am glad I remember that lastdream.
It felt so real at first.The sensation of his skin on my body, of his breath in my ear, thedeep gravel of his voice… it all has an unfathomable effect on me.My fingers move barely, practically of their own volition, over histightly packed abs.
I stop them.I don't wantto wake him.I don't know what will happen when he wakes, and Isuspect it will probably include him saying goodbye and leaving.Especially since it's probably later than he'd intended us tosleep.Assuming he'd intended it at all.
But he musthave.
I realize now that I musthave fallen asleep before I could drive home.In retrospect, it'sprobably a damn good thing that I did, considering I probablyshouldn't have been driving anyway.I don't know what I wasthinking, taking a risk like that.I guess the point is thatIwasn'tthinking—I was too damn tired to think.
Sam must have seen me headto my car.He must have found me and driven me home.And then heldme because he knew it would keep the nightmares away.
Immediately I know that hedidn't hold me the whole time.Because Robin showed up.And thoughwe've only fallen asleep together a few times, I know in my heartthat it wasn't a coincidence.That Sam kept him away.
And Sam's presence alsoexplains this last dream of mine.God,do I wish it could have beenreal.That it couldbereal.His body is something no girl could resist.It's justperfectly sculpted, heavily muscled in all the right places, butstill lean.And curled up against it is a precarious place tobe.
I peek up at his faceagain, suddenly incredibly aware that I should be savoring thismoment.This stolen opportunity to observe him so close.I watchhim sleep, greedily taking in every feature—from his full lips, soincredibly soft-looking next to his masculine jawline, his straightnose and chiseled cheekbones.His lashes are so thick any girlwould be jealous, and his hair is adorably disheveled from sleep.He looks positively perfect, and I commit this exact sight tomemory.
I let my gaze skim over hisbody and I take my time rediscovering his chest—my pillow—and thattight six pack of muscles that I so vividly remember twitching atmy touch in Miami.His tee shirt has ridden up an inch, and I seethe faint trail of hair that leads from his navel into hiswaistband.I let my fingers lightly trace down that sametrail.
And when my eyes continuelower, I swallow my gasp.Though Sam is lost in sleep, his bodyseems to be having the exact same idea my subconscious had.Andthat now my very conscious mind has as well.
He strains so much againsthis jeans that I think it must be painful for him.I feel ananswering heat between my legs, my body reacting as it always doeswhen we're this close.Which hasn't been since Miami.God,it's been weeks.And I think about him all the time.I miss him in every wayimaginable.
And from the looks of it,he's having a similar reaction to sleeping with me like this.He'spressing right up against the zipper fly of his jeans.It reallydoes look painful.
Why would he go to take anap in his jeans?What could be less comfortable?
Unless he was worriedabout makingmeuncomfortable.
Ofcourse.He was being respectful ofme.
I realize now that it'slikely he didn't even get into the bed with me at first.Which iswhy I had that nightmare.And that that nightmare is the reasonhe's holding me now.
A blush creeps over mybody as I flood with shame.Ofcoursethat's the reason he's here, in bedwith me, holding me with his jeans on.Ofcoursehe would make himselfuncomfortable, just to comfort me.
But it's ridiculous—why hecouldn't have just taken off his jeans and slept in his boxerbriefs.I've slept with him in a lot less than underwear.Withnothing, in fact.And he's well aware of that.He could have takenoff his stupid jeans.
And suddenly I resent thejeans.I'mangryat them.Like they're a living, breathing entity.One whichrepresents everything between Sam and me right now that is wrongand stupid.It shouldn't be like this.Weshouldn't be like this.Even ifwe can't be together.There shouldn't be a pair of fuckingjeansbetweenus.
I make to get rid of theoffending entity.I slip my thumb and forefinger over the smallbrass button, and push it through its hole.I slowly and carefullygrasp the zipper pull, and slide it down over him.
Sam groans in his sleep,and the sound douses my desire with gasoline, setting it aflame.Icautiously, painstakingly, push his jeans down over his hips, andthen use my feet to kick them down and off of him.He almost stirsa couple of times, and the third time, his arms tighten around me,and pull me back against his chest, nuzzling his face into myhair.
I want to sigh.This isbetter.Not perfect, we're still mostly clothed, after all.Butbetter.
I rub my cheek over hisheart, slipping my leg back over his thigh, but he's now pulled mea little higher, and his very conspicuous erection—now covered onlyby tight, black boxer briefs—is positioned so close to where Icrave him most.I turn my face into his shirt to stifle my owngroan.It only now dawns on me that there might have been anotherreason for him to have kept his jeans on.
His whole body rises andfalls with his deep, slow breathing.He must have really needed anap too if he's sleeping so soundly right now.I wonder if he'sbeen asleep as long as I have, which must have been, what?Fourhours?Maybe five?
My fingers twitch over hisstomach again and he startles in his sleep.He doesn't wake—heresettles, but not before sliding his hand down to cup my ass andpulling me even more on top of him.He holds me firmly, but not toohard, and the slightest resistance would make him let go, I'm sureof it, but that's the last thing I want.But now I'm practically ontop of him, and nothing good can come of this.
I make to slide back tohis side, but I move over him and we both moan.God,that felt good.I move again,just the slightest bit more to the side, and it's as far as my bodywants to go, it feels like heaven.
