Escape From Reality (11 page)

For the first
time in her writing, Leila truly felt the depth of the emotions she’d created
for her characters, both the hero and the heroine. It surprised her to find
tears welling in her eyes as she read through certain scenes even though she
knew she’d bring them back together in the end, give her characters the happily
ever after they deserved.

Finally she
turned to the tray Dominick had brought. He’d left her a salad and small loaf
of bread, along with cheese and fruit and a carafe of wine. With a sigh of
contentment she dug in, more hungry than she realized. Before long, the salad
and bread were gone, and she was working her way through the fruit and cheese.

Finally sated,
she poured a second glass of wine, savoring the delicate flavor. The garden was
quiet, a few birds overhead and colorful butterflies flitting from flower to
flower. She thought she should take a walk, admire the blooms, but the heat of
the day and the wine conspired to make her drowsy. Maybe Cheryl was right and a
nap would be good for her.

Leila set the empty
wine glass on the table and adjusted the pillows behind her head, stretching
out on the bench. The sun was behind her, and even though the bench was in shade,
it was warm. Bees moved lazily in the roses over her head, the scent of the
blossoms heavy in the summer air.

For the first
time in days, Leila felt completely relaxed and at peace. She was working under
the tutelage of Cheryl Bullard, and her writing was better than it had ever
been. She was in paradise, with anything she’d want at her fingertips. There
were two more days before she had to leave and she sighed. It was perfect.

Closing her
eyes, she drew a deep breath, inhaling the rich scents of the flowers around
her. The only dark thought that intruded was that of the man who had come to
her rescue, and then to her bed that night.

Leila shifted,
a wave of unease washing over her. She’d pushed him out of her mind as she
wrote, but he’d hovered at the edge of her consciousness and she realized she’d
been not just creating a character from her imagination but envisioning the man
who’d been in her room as her hero.

But he was her
hero, wasn’t he? He’d been there at the cove, in her bed. Was he the man from
her story or a figment of her imagination? Or, as she’d thought earlier, were Cheryl
and Dominick determined to carry out an elaborate scheme to bring her writing
eerily to life?

She turned over
in her mind what had happened to her. Or what she’d thought had happened. At
the cove, or in her bed in the middle of the night, she had been certain the
man had been there. Her ankle had been injured, and she was certain someone had
made love to her. She didn’t think it was possible that it was a figment of her
imagination.

But when she’d
woken, both times, everything seemed off, as if her dreams and reality had
somehow overlapped.

As the sun
moved overhead, Leila finally drifted to sleep and began to dream. The
man—Sebastian Phillips—the hero from her story, came to her,
kissing her urgently, passionately, and she knew he was going to make love to
her like she’d never experienced before.

But then the
dream changed and she was at the cove, alone, swimming. She knew she was going
to be trapped in the rocks, but she was helpless to swim away. As if drawn by
some force, she repeated every move she’d made exactly, felt her foot slide
between the rough surfaces of the rocks.

Then the water
closed over her head and she tried to scream but it was impossible. She waited
for what felt like an eternity, heart thudding in her chest, for the man to
come to her rescue, but he didn’t appear. She sank lower beneath the green
water, watching the sky above her grow watery and dim.

“Leila.”

It was Sebastian.
He’d come to rescue her, and she waited for his hands to pull her from the
water.  But she couldn’t see him. She felt a wave of panic wash over her.
She
was going to die.

“Leila!”

She struggled
with all her might, clawing toward the surface of the water, reaching for the
light above her.

Then someone
grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the sky.

“Leila…wake
up.”

Sebastian
. She looked up into his face, into those
green eyes.

“It’s okay,
baby. I’m here, Leila.”

They were
sitting on the bench in the garden, Sebastian cradling her in his arms.

“You were
having a nightmare. That’s all. Are you okay?” He stroked the hair away from
her forehead and she closed her eyes, her body relaxing.

“Yes. I was in
the cove again, but you weren’t there.”

“I’m here now, Leila.”
He smiled down at her. An unruly section of hair fell across his forehead.

Even in the
soft shade of the rose arbor, Sebastian’s eyes were startling, the green clear
and vibrant, the blue around the iris dark. Leila lost herself in those depths
and the panic of the dream faded away. She was safe, Sebastian was here, and
everything was all right.

“I’m glad you
are, Sebastian.”

A warm breeze
blew through the arbor, and Leila realized with a twinge of embarrassment that her
dress had ridden high on her legs, exposing most of her thighs. As if reading
her mind, Sebastian’s eyes moved away from her face, traveling over her as she
lay against him.

Under his gaze,
her embarrassment began to fade. Everything in his eyes told her he was
thoroughly enjoying what he was seeing.

“You’re a
beautiful woman, Leila. Very beautiful.”

He shifted her
easily until she was sitting on his lap. Pulling her close, he kissed her, his
lips firm against hers. One hand moved slowly up her back, tangling in her
hair. His other hand rested on her knee, his fingers warm on her bare skin.

After a moment,
he pulled away.

“And very sexy.
Hasn’t any man told you that before?” His voice was seductive, his gaze
mesmerizing. Leila’s face grew warm, her embarrassment returning, and she
dropped her eyes.

Sebastian set
his finger beneath her chin, tiling her face up to his. “Don’t ever be
embarrassed by your beauty. Or when a man tells you you’re sexy. It’s who you
are.”

His mouth was
back on hers, his lips forceful, leaving no room for doubt in her mind he was
claiming her as his. She leaned into the kiss, hands resting lightly on his
chest. Beneath her fingertips, she could feel his heart beating, the rise and
fall of his chest.

As his tongue
slipped between her lips, she spread her fingers, palms pressing against his
chest. He teased her for a moment, his tongue flicking lightly against hers,
before he deepened their kiss.

Leila moaned
softly as he forced her lips apart, his tongue lashing against hers. He pulled
her hard against his body, the hand on her thigh sliding higher, moving beneath
the hem of her dress. The first touch of his hand on the skin of her inner
thigh was a soft caress that grew firmer, his fingers pressing against her.

For an instant
she pressed her legs tight together, but an overwhelming wave of heat rushed
through her body and she relaxed, her legs parting slightly.  

In response to
her movements, Sebastian’s mouth formed a smile against her lips and his
fingers moved slowly higher, his fingers reaching the edge of her panties. One
finger slipped beneath the elastic, sliding slowly over her moist heat.

Leila gasped as
his finger worked deeper, moving into her hot center, eliciting another deep
moan. Her head fell back, lips parted as Sebastian began stroking her tender
clit with his thumb, his warm palm resting against her.

Leila reacted
to his touch, a tremor coursing through her body, her back arching as Sebastian
continued stroking her. As the speed and pressure of his touch increased, her
hips moved forward, her body moving in time with Sebastian’s movements.

Slowly she
became aware of Sebastian’s body moving in time with hers, hips flexing, his
erection growing as he pressed himself against her. She stole one hand down to
his lap, caressing him over his jeans. Her touch was greeted by a deep groan,
the pleasure obvious in his voice.

He began
nuzzling her neck, his lips playing along her hairline, his tongue tracing fire
along her skin. She turned her face toward him and her seeking lips found his,
tongues meeting, thrusting between each other, her body trembling in his arms.

“Sebastian…”
She broke away, looking up at him. “Make love to me now. Please.”

“There’s
nothing I want more, Leila.” His eyes were dark, his voice rough with passion.

“Come here.”

Sebastian
lifted her from his lap, setting her on her feet, then rose from the bench. He
led her a few steps to the lush grass in front of the arbor, his eyes never
leaving hers.

“Take off your
dress, Leila. I want to see you in the daylight. I want to see you while I make
love to you.”

Her heart was
already beating fast, but his words sent it hammering against her chest and her
breath caught in her throat. No man had ever been so assertive, challenging
her, and for a moment she stood, unable to move, almost unable to believe what
this man standing before her was asking.

But the fire Sebastian
had started in her, the heat blooming in her body took over and she raised her
hands, fingers undoing the buttons that ran down the front of her dress. Slowly
she let it fall from her shoulders, stepping out of the puddle of blue linen.

She lifted her
head, meeting Sebastian’s eyes, momentarily startled by the intensity she saw
there. Her lips parted, her breath coming faster as she stood under his fiery
gaze. She was aware of her breasts, the creamy tops rising, almost spilling
from her bra.

Sebastian took
a step forward, eyes dropping to her breasts. “God, you’re stunning.”

His hands rose,
cupping her satin-covered breasts, kneading them slowly with strong fingers. Leila
closed her eyes, breathing in the heady rose-scented tropical air as his
caresses grew stronger, his strong thumbs sliding across her satin-covered
nipples, bringing them to hard points.

Sebastian’s
breath was warm against her neck as his hands slid behind her, smoothly
unclasping the bra. It fell forward and then his hands were back on her
breasts, her skin coming alive beneath his touch.

Her hands rose,
finding the buttons on Sebastian’s shirt, swiftly undoing them, pulling back
the fabric, exhaling a sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan as she ran her
hands over the taut skin of his muscular chest. She rested her head on his
shoulder, her lips against his neck, tasting him, inhaling his scent, rich and
spicy, so masculine it made her weak in the knees.

Sebastian’s
hands left her breasts, sliding down her back, cupping her ass. He pulled her
hard against him, pushing his hips forward against her stomach. The pressure of
his erection against her sent the heat in her body spiraling almost out of
control.

Impatience
mixed with desire and Leila grabbed the front of Sebastian’s jeans, wrenching
open the button, tugging down the zipper. Sebastian lifted his head, his eyes
dark with passion. She met his gaze but hesitated, hands trembling, suddenly
shy, unsure of her feelings. Sebastian took her hands in his as she began to
pull them away.

“Don’t be
afraid, Leila. And don’t stop now.” He held her gaze for a moment longer and
her confidence returned.

She nodded as
he guided her hands back to his body, as he watched her. Emboldened by his
words, she dropped her gaze to her hands, which still trembled, but now from
excitement, not fear.

In her pages
for Cheryl, Leila had described Sebastian, given him life and given him form.
She’d been frustrated when he’d blown out the candle in her room on their first
night, and the desire to see him now was almost overwhelming.

One final tug
on the zipper was all that was needed. Leila slid one hand along the flat plane
of Sebastian’s stomach, lower, freeing him from the confines of his jeans. As
she wrapped her hand around his erection, Sebastian moaned, pressing forward
against her hand.

Sebastian
pulled her into an embrace, his mouth on hers. His kiss was powerful and
passionate, and this time Leila returned that passion, meeting Sebastian’s fire
with her own.

It was clear to
her that Sebastian felt the difference in her kiss, the firm way she stroked
him. His hands went down her back, sliding beneath the satin panties, fingers
digging into her, pulling her hard against his body.

They stood in
the warm sun for a moment until the heat between them grew too intense. Sebastian
stepped away from Leila, his fingers catching in the elastic of her panties. He
tugged them roughly down, letting them fall to the ground, and Leila stepped
out of them.

Sebastian quickly
shrugged out of his shirt, then pushed his jeans down his hips. Stepping away
from them, he stood in front of Leila.

She let her
eyes travel over his body, taking in everything from his raven-colored hair,
the broad chest. And finally lower. As Cheryl had said earlier, Leila was able
to see what he had to offer his heroine, what he had to offer her.