Truth Within Dreams Read Online Free

fist. There was an adorable little pucker between her brows, as though she dreamed of scolding someone.
    He was hard as an oak branch. Her soft warmth invited him over for a cuddle, while her kittenish exhalations made his mouth water for a taste of hers.
    Henry scooted into her warm spot and bent his head to her full lips. They were warm and dry. He moistened them with darting laps of his tongue. Claudia’s head tilted back, and she sighed.
    Oh, yes.
Here came Henry’s favorite part of his Claudia dreams.
    He parted her lips and ran his tongue along the edge of her top teeth. At the same time, he worked his thigh between her legs, laced his fingers with hers, and captured her hands overhead. Satisfaction rumbled deep in his chest. Claudia was warm and pliant beneath him. She tasted sweet and smelled like summer meadows—faintly floral and fresh and so vibrantly
alive
.
    Henry deepened the kiss. His tongue swept into her mouth, leisurely exploring. His loins ached with need. The muscles of his stomach twitched. His hips languidly rolled against her, warming up their thrusting motion. That part of the dream was great, too, but Henry tried to prolong the preliminaries.
    “Kiss me back, sweet girl,” he dream-muttered. “Give me your tongue.”
    “Why do you want my tongue?” Claudia asked in a husky voice.
    Henry lifted his head. A pair of distinctive eyes—soft blue irises ringed with gray—blinked up at him in confusion. His dream-Claudia wasn’t usually so bewildered at this point in proceedings.
    Wrinkling her nose, Claudia twisted her head to look at their tangled arms. “Will you please release me, Henry? My wrists are twinging.” She wrinkled her nose, sniffed. “Henry, I have to tell you something.”
    His dream-Claudia usually didn’t have morning sniffles, either.
    Oh, God
. She was awake. He was awake. Claudia Baxter was actually in his bed.
    This wasn’t such a good dream anymore.
    Henry yelped, loud and short. He scrambled back to the other side of the mattress and yanked the counterpane up to cover his …
Oh, my God.
Worse every second. He had actually been on top of Claudia. Naked. And trying to introduce her to his morning constitutional.
    Claudia lay as he’d left her, arms overhead, fingers lightly tangled in her hair. Anxiety clouded her eyes. They darted toward the door—
    Which opened. “Everything all right, Henry?”
    Claude Baxter, Henry’s friend since childhood and the twin brother of the woman in his sheets, stepped into the room and froze. Only his eyes, grayer than Claudia’s, moved, darting between the occupants of the bed.
    “Claude,” Henry started. “This isn’t what it …” Language abandoned him. He had no idea what this was. Why was Claudia in his bed? Henry only had a few drinks with Claude after supper last night, not enough to bed a woman and forget about it.
    Just then, a low snort emerged from Claude. His eyes narrowed on Henry and his head dropped, like a bull about to charge. Henry had no doubt that he was the red cape.
    “I’m going to kill you,” Claude ground out between clenched … everything. His jaw was locked and his lips pulled back in a snarl. The cords on his neck stood out like … something very prominent. It was too early in the morning to deal in metaphor.
    “You
bastard
,” Claude spat. “How could you?”
    Claudia propped up on her elbows. Wisps of light brown hair tangled around her shoulders and biceps. Her lips, plumped by his kiss, pushed out in a pout. She wore a thin chemise, through which Henry could detect the lines of her breasts and the dusky shadows of her nipples. She looked precisely like she’d been tumbled. “Stop shouting, Claude! You’re giving me the headache.” She scratched the side of her nose and plopped back into the pillows.
    “Claude, get out of that bed,” her brother demanded.
    “Go awaaay,” Claudia moaned. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”
    Henry dropped his face into his hands. “Not helping,