Dream Boy Read online

  A nosy blonde hustles by, eyes on us as she passes. Sophia’s self-consciousness increases. "Look, I already have a reputation around here for being a train wreck. I'm not going to give the local gossip mill more fodder by strutting out of here with the new-in-town guy, okay?" Before I can take another shot at making my case, she ducks around me and hurries away.

  A part of me tells me to follow her, to make her listen to me. Because she's not just some chick I banged that one time in a hotel room in Sin City. That woman has no idea the role she’s played in my life. She has no idea that her effect on me stretched far beyond that night in Vegas.

  I should make her listen to me.

  Instead, I hold back. I let her leave. Because Copper Heights is a small town. No more than 5000 residents. Tracking her down shouldn't be that hard to do. She is the daycare lady, after all.

  She probably just needs some time to process it all. As far as she's concerned, we were never supposed to see each other again. Yet, here I am, standing on her turf.

  Still, my blood runs cold when I see who's sitting at the table she approaches. Leo’s got his arm around his wife’s shoulder as he nuzzles her cheek. Meanwhile, Charlie’s wife is trying to wiggle her way into his lap.

  No fucking way!

  My mind is scrambling to process it. What kind of fucking coincidence is this?

  I watch as Sophia speaks to her friends. She grimaces and rubs her hand in discreet circles on her belly—fake stomach ache, a classic—before opening her purse and trying to slip some money onto the table. Charlie stops her and shoos the money away. Then, Nova and Reese hug her in turn before she makes a mad dash for the exit.

  Right before she steps out the door, she throws one last look in my direction. My neck tingles. My cock jerks.

  This little neck of the woods just got a whole lot more interesting.

  5

  Sophia

  Las Vegas

  Two years ago, 7:37 P.M.

  “You’re so beautiful.” His eyes are locked on my face as he gently tucks the loose strands of my disintegrating chignon behind my ear.

  The tender sweep of his hot, rough finger pads across my cheekbone makes me shiver. His touch is perfect. “Really?” I try to hold his gaze but I feel like it’ll consume me so my eyes tumble to his mouth.

  He licks his lips when he nods. “Really…Your skin is like velvet. And your lips are the perfect shade of pink.” His finger pad outlines the shape of my mouth.

  Fire spreads across my cheeks. There’s so much sincerity and desire in his words. I’m not a particularly insecure person but nothing will knock a girl’s confidence down a few pegs like getting stood up at the altar.

  Am I not beautiful enough? Is that why the guy I’ve loved since I was 13 made a last minute detour instead of showing up at our wedding?

  Yet here’s this stranger, touching me like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever seen. His caress is reaching past the surface of my skin, sinking into my soul.

  We’re standing toe-to-toe in the middle of his tiny 12th floor hotel room with nothing but the neon lights from the bustling street outside pouring in to illuminate the room. My heartbeat mimicks the frantic energy of the Strip. My blood whizzes loudly through my ears.

  My dress is in a pile on the floor while his suit jacket is draped tidily over the back of a chair. When we arrived here a few minutes ago, I kicked off my white satin heels by the door next to his neatly-arranged loafers. Now, that I’ve lost four inches, I can truly absorb his height.

  He’s tall. Maybe six feet five. And now that he’s towering over me, his shoulders seem even broader. So very masculine.

  “You have such beautiful eyes, Daisy.”

  And he has such beautiful everything. Every part of him is spectacular. It’s overwhelming.

  My eyes dart to the side of his face. "You have...very attractive ears," I blurt out like a moron.

  He laughs throatily. The rich sound permeates the air and dissipates some of the nervous tension I feel. “My ears?” He grazes the lobes with his fingers. “That’s all I’ve got going for me, huh?”

  “I’m sorry,” I apologize as I bury my face in his chest. “I’m sorry. I kind of suck at flirting.”

  I was with Josh since the eighth grade. We’d gotten to that comfortable place in our relationship. That place where we weren’t really trying to impress each other anymore. So, I’m very much out of practice.

  “Plus, I've never had a one-night stand before and I'm not feeling particularly sexy tonight. I’m just...I'm really nervous."

  He pulls me closer and tilts my chin up. “Don’t apologize, sweetheart.” I’m close enough to feel his cock hardening and lengthening against my belly. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll know exactly how sexy you are. You won’t ever doubt it again.”

  My pussy clenches at the words like she’s trying to catch them and hold onto them.

  I want this so much. I want him so much.

  When he lowers his face to mine, I wrap my arms around his neck and inch up on my toes. My heart hammers with anticipation. But there’s a trifling, little voice at the back of my mind, telling me that this is wrong…I shift my face away at the last second.

  I stumble a half-step back. A single tear crawls down my face.

  He brushes it away. “Daisy, I really, really want you. I need to make that clear, just so you don’t doubt it…But we don’t have to do this. You have every right to change your mind.” His thumb brushes my jaw back and forth.

  I peek up at him. He looks like a completely different man now that we’re in his room. Just as handsome and tempting but the smug veneer he wore at the bar is gone. There’s so much kindness on his face. Only kindness.

  Lust builds in my blood. It travels down my limbs, making my body tingle and heat. Making the space between my thighs go slick.

  My hand runs down the front of his chest, riding the pounding rhythm of his heart. “I want you so bad, it’s killing me.”

  He takes my hand in his and slowly, he pulls my huge diamond engagement ring from my finger. A shuddering breath moves out of me as he flings the jewel to the floor.

  To me, it’s symbolic. With that one gesture, my status as a single woman solidifies in my mind.

  His gaze zones in on my mouth. I close my eyes and tilt my face up.

  I feel blunt fingertips tracing my hairline and tucking loose tresses away from my face before rough palms clamp down on my cheeks and slide the length of my neck. His lips come down on mine with a need that’s slow and savage. The force of it, enough to make my knees falter. I stumble backward until I collapse onto the bed, pulling him down with me.

  As our tongues loop and dance together, my hands embark on a frantic search for his skin, tearing at the buttons of his shirt.

  Meanwhile, he’s kissing my throat and chest. He unclasps my strapless bra and my breasts spring free. Suddenly, I’m aware of how tiny they are. They feel so inadequate. But he cups them and brushes his mouth across the tips. He circles one nipple with his thumb while pinching the other between his fingers.

  “God—every part of you is perfect, Daisy. Every part of you is so sweet.”

  Hovering above me, his fingers loop into the waistband of my lacy bridal garter belt. There’s no air in the room as he slowly pulls it down my thighs. He releases a sharp hiss as his eyes follow the sensual movement. I hold my breath and goosebumps crawl the length of my thighs.

  When all my underwear is flung halfway across the room, his hands are braced on my thighs. He looks over at me, as if waiting for one more act of confirmation, one further bit of assurance that this is exactly what I want.

  I’m sure about this. There’s not a doubt in my mind.

  I widen my stance, spreading my thighs further apart and I guide his hand to my pussy. He growls as I slide his fingers through my wetness, my heat. “I did this to you, Daisy.” There’s a note of awe in his voice as he rubs me back and forth. “You’re wet like this for me.”


  I confirm it with a whisper. “I am.”

  His jaw clenches and lust engulfs his irises like a dark inferno. Quickly, he dips his hand into his pocket and produces a condom from his wallet. Then, he drops his pants to the floor, revealing his long, powerful thighs. I lie there, breathless and willing, as I watch him stretch it over his broad tip and down the thick length of his erection.

  I lean up and greedily steal a kiss, sliding my mouth against his. His tongue pushes between my lips and I groan at the warm, velvety texture. He uses the distraction to his advantage, swiping the crown of his cock along my super sensitive clit. I buck, arching my hips for more of the fantastic feeling, crying out against his lips. And then, he changes the angle, breaching me in one powerful movement. I cry out some more.

  We fall into a rhythm. My ankles locked around his waist, he pounds into me. Each thrust is deep and confident and hits a package of nerves so sensitive it will probably be the cause of my untimely death.

  Here lies Sophia Gallo who died in the throes of a violent orgasm. She regrets nothing.

  That should make a fun inscription on my tombstone.

  Yep. The sex is gonna kill me. I’ve accepted it. And I’m not complaining.

  At the bar, he warned me that he was good at this. He told me he’d give me the hardest orgasms of my life. I guess I sort of thought he was speaking in hyperbole.

  He wasn’t.

  My fingernails grate along his scalp. “So good…So so so good…Fuck, please…Go deeper…Harder. Please.” My begging grows more desperate and shameless as the sensations head toward their peak.

  My words shock me. I can’t believe they’re coming from my mouth. Before this moment, I’d never begged for a dick in my life.

  Sophia Gallo has always been a lady. A classy chick.

  I’ve never been so brazen about what I want in bed. Yes, I would give Josh subtle hints and indirect suggestions—lord knows he needed them—but never have I come straight out at the height of my orgasm and screamed…

  “Give me your fucking cock! Don’t you fucking stop! Pound me until you fracture my pelvis!”

  Yeah…those kinds of words were never in my vocabulary.

  They weren’t until tonight, at least.

  6

  Sophia

  Standing on Reese's front porch with a steaming Crock-Pot of chilli beans in hand, my eyes fall shut and I suck air into my shrivelled-up lungs. My heart is thumping, my palms are clammy. I'm freaking out just a little bit.

  Tony is here.

  Tony from Las Vegas.

  Tony, the man who took me to his hotel room and delivered on his promise to fuck the heartache right out of my system.

  Archie, who doesn't know he's the father of my child.

  Shit!

  He's on the other side of that door and when I step into that house, I'm going to have to face him. Cue the anxiety attack.

  I should have stayed home. I shouldn't have come here today.

  I spent forty minutes flat-ironing my hair. And maybe another half hour fussing over what to wear. Eventually, I settled on a flared denim summer dress and low-heeled sandals. And I’ve been second-guessing that decision from the minute I walked out the door.

  Ever since River was born, I've been a throw-on-a-pair-of-yoga-pants-and-go type of gal. Getting dolled up doesn’t come naturally to me anymore. But my womanly pride demanded that I put in the extra effort today. Because some part of me wants him to look at me again. The way he did that night in his hotel room.

  The sound of laughter floats my way from the backyard where Leo's birthday festivities are under way. I lean my forehead against the pristine white front door and take a few breaths. In and out. In and out.

  This is stupid. Why am I psyching myself out like this? This is just a barbeque at Reese and Leo's house. I've been here a million times.

  But this time is different.

  Ever since I ran into Archie in that narrow hallway outside of the washrooms, my body's been reliving the memory of our night in Vegas. My heart's been replaying the confessions we shared as we laid together in that dark hotel room. I hate to admit it but now that I know he's here in Copper Heights, a little spark of hope has blossomed to life in my chest.

  Maybe...

  "No, Sophia. No maybes," I whisper sternly to myself.

  Optimism used to be my best friend. I held so hard to the belief that everything works out for the best and everyone gets their dreams-come-true. My blind hope led me into a ditch and left me there. I've spent the last two years digging myself out and there's no way I'm letting my naive outlook drag me back into the gutter.

  There's no 'maybe' for Archie and me.

  I throw a glance over my shoulder toward the end of the block then check the time on my phone. The 58 bus is scheduled to pass in seven minutes. I have more than enough time to catch it—

  The door bursts open and I yelp, barely keeping the chilli beans from slipping through my fingers and splattering all over the all-white porch.

  Brenton stands in the open doorway, all decked out in a Spiderman costume and a lopsided birthday hat on his head. He grins bare gums up at me. "Look, Aunt Sophia! The tooth fairy's taking all my teeth." He holds a tiny, white incisor in his outstretched palm.

  Laughing, I crouch down in front of him to inspect his mouth. "Looks like it," I say. "How are you supposed to chew your broccoli when you don't have any teeth?"

  He snickers deviously. "When I lose all my teeth I won't have to eat broccoli anymore. I can just have candy all day."

  The child's well thought out plan makes me chuckle and for a moment, I forget all about my nerves and about Archie.

  Reese's head pops out from around the corner down the hall. "Oh, I thought I heard your voice," she says with a smile before her attention turns sternly on her son. She steps into the hallway with little Maizy hitched on her hip. "Brenton Montgomery—what did I tell you about opening the front door?"

  "But Mommy, it's just Aunt Sophia."

  "You didn't know that," the mother counters.

  "Yes, I did," he argues. "My spidey senses told me."

  Shaking her head, Reese sighs and moves toward us on bare feet. When our eyes meet, we share a little laugh. "Kids, huh?"

  She presses her cheek to mine, her lips pursing in a kiss. Her little boy ducks out of the doorway and scampers away. "Right...If you don't let yourself find the humor in their shenanigans, they’ll just drive you crazy."

  She's got tired mom syndrome written all over her face but she's happy. I can see it in the smile that lingers on the edges of her mouth even as she wiggles her shoulders, loosening her tired back.

  "Tell me about it." I nod in agreement as I try to toe off my shoes on the mat without losing my grip on the Crock-Pot. Before I can remove my sandals, my friend loops an arm around my back to stop me.

  "Come inside. Leave your shoes on. Everyone's out back."

  Everyone's out back. I silently wonder if everyone includes Archie.

  With a hand on my shoulder, she guides me into the house. "You brought your famous beans? Smells so damn good." Reese takes the lead, trotting hurriedly down the hall toward the kitchen. "You look gorgeous, by the way. I hope you burned all your yoga pants to ashes because that dress is to die for on you.”

  The compliment makes my gut tighten and Archie's face flashes across my mind. Secretly, I wonder if he'll like the dress, too.

  God, this is silly.

  "Are you sure?" I manage to whisper anxiously as I glance down at my denim ensemble again. “I mean, it’s probably the only non-yoga-pants outfit I have that still fits after my pregnancy and I had to dig it up from the bottom of some random suitcase in my storage closet so I gave it a thorough sniff test but I still wasn’t sure if it smelled musty and I was tempted to Febreeze the shit out of it but I didn’t want to smell like Fresh Harvest Pumpkin because that’s the only scent I had on hand and I think I bought it sometime last fall but now we’re in summer and nobody wants to smel
l Fresh Harvest Pumpkin in summer so I chose to say no to Febreeze.” I gulp. “Do I smell musty, though?”

  Reese throws me a confused look over her shoulder, her eyes telling me that none of what I just prattled out made sense to her. "No, you don’t smell musty, Sophia...Are you okay?"

  Breathing through my nerves, I nod and follow my friend toward the kitchen, muttering an apology under my breath.

  Whatever she's cooking in here smells amazing, a mouth-watering mix of herbs and spices with undertones of greasy, salty bacon. But with the way my stomach feels right now, I’d probably be better off sticking to saltine crackers.

  Nova is standing by the backdoor, bouncing a fussy Madalyn in her arms. She grins when I step into the room. "Oh, look at you! No yoga pants today! Cute dress." She glances down and affectionately kisses her baby’s forehead before turning back to me. "You didn't bring River?"

  Angling my back to my friends, I slide the chilli onto the counter and wipe my clammy hands down the front of my dress. "Um, she’s at Angie and Ben’s house. It’s auntie and niece time again. I’m sure it’s wild and crazy over there."

  Angie lets the child get away with everything. Chocolate for lunch. Skipped naps. Cartoons all day. It’s anarchy whenever my sister gets to babysit.

  But there's no way I was bringing River here today. I wasn't sure what I would be walking into and I definitely didn't want her in the middle of it. Yes, the thought of seeing Archie has butterflies rioting in my stomach like a high schooler with a crush. Still, at the end of the day, protecting my daughter is my number one priority. I’m a mother first, above all else. I can’t bring her around him unless I’m sure what his intentions are.

  "Well, that's too bad,” Reese says as she sets Maizy in the playpen in the corner where her twin brother is already gnawing away at a teething toy. “Maizy and Lennox were looking forward to seeing their friend."

  "They’ll hang out at daycare on Monday." I crouch down in front of the playpen and tickle the babies' chubby bellies. “Yes, they will. Yes, they will.” The children giggle, flashing gummy smiles.