Read Online Escape From Reality by Adriana Hunter - Free Book Online Page A

lit the
candle on her table and pulled out a fresh sheet of paper. They’d be in a bed,
like hers, after an afternoon of swimming—skinny-dipping—in a
secluded cove. The sun would have warmed their bodies and heated their passion,
and the cool linen against their skin would only serve as counterpoint to the
passions that raged inside them.
    As she wrote,
images filled her mind. For every image, she’d try to capture in words what she
saw, adding sounds, the feel of the hero’s skin beneath her hands, the sounds
they’d both make. Her own heart beat faster as she hurried to capture the
intensity of their first time together, building toward the climax, the final
scenes coming in a rush of words scrawled across the paper.
    Leila sat back,
heart racing, her breath coming in little gasps. She’d done it, put herself
into the scene, and written the scene of making love with her hero. She was
flushed with success, carried along not only by a sense of accomplishment, but by
a heady mixture of arousal and deep satisfaction. She’d completed her
assignment and she was certain Cheryl would approve.
    With the folded
pages in hand, she opened the door and slipped them onto the silver salver.
    The door images
remained aloof tonight, apparently content to hold each other at arm’s length. Leila
blew a kiss to them and closed the door behind her.
    Exhaustion
swept over her. The wine, or the mental exertion of writing, or both, combined
with the warm bath and a lack of sleep the previous night had finally caught up
with her. Yawning extravagantly, she blew out the single candle and felt her
way to her bed in the dark. She climbed beneath the covers, pulling the sheet
and coverlet over her shoulders. The window was open and a faint trail of
moonlight slipped in, ghostly pale in the dark.
    Leila thought
back over the scene she’d just written, smiling in the dark. For the first time,
she’d felt confident writing an erotic scene. Maybe it was the wine, or the
bath, or the encouragement from Cheryl. But she was certain this was her best
scene to date. She closed her eyes, letting sleep overtake her.
    The sound of
her door opening brought her half awake. At the sound of a footstep on the
stone floor, Leila sat up in bed.
    “Dominick? Is
that you?” Her voice sounded small and she rubbed her hand across her eyes. The
door swung open further and a figure, backlit by the light in the hall, filled
the opening. It was clearly a man.
    “Dominick?”
    But the figure
remained silent as he took a step into Leila’s room. A remote corner of her
mind said she should be frightened, but oddly, she was more curious than
fearful.
    He moved
forward, stepping into the swath of moonlight, now much brighter than before.
It lit his face and Leila gasped, her hand against her mouth.
    The moonlight
played across the high cheekbones, the straight nose, just catching the full
curve of his mouth. In the soft light, his eyes were no discernable color, but
she knew they were green with a ring of dark blue.
    Silently, he
moved toward the bed. There was nothing hesitant about his step and Leila knew
exactly what he wanted. He wanted her.  
    He reached the
edge of the bed and stood for a moment, looking down at her.
    “Light a
candle. I want to see you.” His words were low, confident, and a shiver went
through Leila’s body. She sat up, leaning over to light the candle by the bed.
The match trembled in her hand as she held it to the wick.
    The fat candle
cast a yellow pool of light across the bed and Leila looked up, meeting the
man’s eyes. The coverlet and sheet pooled around her waist and with one smooth
gesture he reached out, pulling them away from her body. Leila tensed,
instinctively pulling her knees up to her chest.
    “Lie back. I’m
not going to hurt you.”
    She did as he
asked, seemingly powerless to resist. But she didn’t want to resist. Suddenly
and inexplicably, she wanted to do whatever he asked. She slid down in the bed,
arms