Page 63 of The Keeper and I

“But what about your family’s line?”

“My father has three sons. My children will be of little consequence to him.”

“They are of great consequence to me, angel.”

She giggled. “How many shall we have?”

“As many as the Lord blesses us with, seeing as I cannot keep my hands off you.”

She only grinned and yanked him in for a blazing kiss. He kissed her back as if he wanted to consume her. Desire stirred in his belly and spread through his body with each pump of his heart all the way to his fingertips, which he trailed along the delicate skin of her neck. She shivered as she always did.

“More, please, my love,” she sighed as their lips parted. She reached for the buttons of his waistcoat. “You said we must be quick. Do not keep me waiting.”

A rumble sounded from deep in his chest. He loved it when she begged for him. With a wicked grin, he placed fiery kisses along her jaw, letting his tongue flick out to that sensitive spot behind her ear that made her squirm.

“Please,” she whined.

With surprising boldness, she took him by the wrist and put his hand between her legs. He groaned. She was gorgeous like this.

He could not deny her any longer, so he yanked up her skirts, layer by layer, cursing the need for ladies to wear so many. She looked so much more appealing with it bunched around her hips while she panted for him.

He ran his fingers along the apex of her thighs. Her legs trembled at his touch. Finally, he sank a finger inside her. She threw her head back and gasped.

Jordan sat straight up in bed with a sharp breath. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the dark room. Laci’s room in her parents’ estate. Not that such a realization was helpful considering it was the setting of that dream, the most vivid dream he could recall in recent years.

The woman in the dream had Laci’s exact appearance, from her face to the shape of her body, which was much harder to admire in the empire-waist gown she was wearing. The feeling of her body beneath his created a painful strain in his crotch.

He distracted himself by trying to make sense of it. He had sounded like himself. He had felt like himself. But he’d never worn boots like that. Or a waistcoat for that matter. Was he dreaming they were in costume? It didn’t feel like that. The desperation between them was too genuine. Plus, Laci only had two brothers. Dream Laci had three.

He looked over to where she slept beside him. She hadn’t stirred when he sat up, which he was grateful for. She looked so fucking cute as she slept. In the darkness, he could make out the shape of her lips pressed into the pillow. Her chest rose and fell with her breathing. After all the sleepless nights, Jordan was glad for anytime she got to rest.

Looking at her closed eyes brought him right back to the dream. With a curse under his breath, he threw the quilt off his legs and slipped out of bed. He changed into his joggers and a sweatshirt, pulled on his trainers, and tiptoed out the door. Moving was the only way to shake this. Remaining in bed next to her would only foster further thoughts of her moaning.

The cold air burned his lungs, but it was not enough to clear his mind of the images in his dream like Laci in that dress, the desperate look in her eyes, the way she arched into him. He pushed himself to a quicker pace. He normally worked through any frustration with physical exertion. Going a little harder would help him forget.

Except every step, every turn around the grounds conjured up more visions. He saw the dream version of Laci strolling with her family or playing games with them in the grass. Taking her horse for a trot or brushing its hair, then seeing her face in the window of a passing carriage as they headed out to a ball.

“Fuck!” Jordan cried and came to a stop.

He doubled over to catch his breath. He kept his eyes on the vapor it created in the chilly air, just for something to focus on. At least they only had to get through lunch before they would be leaving. Then he could put all this creepiness behind him. It was getting out of hand, and he was worried another night would have him calling the Ghostbusters.

He stood up straight again and looked around, noting the concrete details around him, the sight of the trees with their jagged branches, the smell of wet earth that he inhaled with each breath, the feeling of the gravel beneath his shoes, and the sound of the crunch as he shifted his weight.

It was 2023, and he was with his fake girlfriend and her very nice family. There were no carriages, no girls in fine frocks, and no secret meetings in the parlor. Grounded in reality, he started to jog again.

The dream troubled him less for the remainder of the run. With his blood pumping, he finally managed to drown everything out and work his body the way he was used to and keep it in the back of his mind. But when he reached the house, he looked up at the terrace. Laci stood there in that pink dress as a soft breeze tossed her blonde ringlets over her shoulder.

He skidded to a furious stop, shook his head, and screwed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, Laci was still there but in leggings and his Stanmore jumper, her hair in a bun. Relieved, he trotted up the stairs. He started to smile at her, but she didn’t return it. She held his phone out toward him instead.

“It’s been ringing all morning,” she said.

“Sorry, I should have put it on silent,” he replied. “Did it wake you?”

“Yes, but that’s not what’s bothering me.”

“What is it then?”

“It’s your mother. All the missed calls are from her.”