I'll See You In My Dreams (Hell Yeah!)

by Sable Hunter

  Sadness washed over him. She had intended to go with him. She had brought clothes to wear. There was no doubt in his mind that she fabricated that excuse of helping Frasier and Chloe just to give him the freedom to do what he needed to do without a guilty conscience. Damn! He hit the wall. Nothing was worth hurting Presley. He was going to talk to her, but when he came out, she wasn’t in the office. Renee and Alicia were and they were waiting on him. “Do you know where Presley is?” he asked Renee.

  “No, but I’ll give her a message if you’d like. Do you need her to work overtime?”

  Zane got his dog by the harness and offered his arm to the woman he could sense standing by his side. “No, I don’t expect her to work overtime.” He almost growled in frustration. “Tell her that I’m sorry and I will make it up to her.” There was a very light harrumph behind him and he knew – good and well – that his message would not be delivered.

  Presley stood in the conference room window and watched until Zane and Alicia emerged and Sherwood opened the door to let them into the car. As they drove away, she stared through a blur of tears until they were out of sight.

  Chapter Seven

  “May I pour you a drink?” Zane released the lever that opened the mini-bar.

  “No, thank you.”

  From the moment he had greeted the movie star, Zane had a funny feeling that something had changed. By all accounts she had been anxious to spend the evening with him, but her tone was frosty and sharp. “Is something wrong? I’m sure Burning Love is going to be a huge success.”

  “That’s not it,” he heard the woman huff as she rearranged her skirt. “I’ve heard of you, Mr. Saucier. I know you are a good lawyer, and Ralph had shown me photographs of you. But when I requested that you be my escort, I had no idea you were – handicapped.” Contempt rolled off her tongue and Zane couldn’t help but be shocked. Even though he had spent years attempting to avoid situations like this, he had not really encountered venom like this since Margaret.

  “Miss Fields, the limp’s not that bad. I get around okay.” His off-hand comment hid his true feelings quite well.

  “I have an image to maintain and you are attached to a dog.”

  “Ah, but he is a handsome dog so I’m told, and he has impeccable manners.” ‘Unlike you’ went unsaid. Zane was torn. He could either schmooze the woman and court her business interests or cut her to shreds with his rapier tongue for being a total bitch.

  “When we get to the theatre, I think I can manage quite well on my own. I won’t be needing your services.”

  Hell. “Miss Fields, you are a marvelous actress and I am honored to see after the interests of Vision Star. If and when you need legal representation, I think you’ll find that my firm should be your first choice. But having said that, let me assure you that I have no emotion involved in this evening. My being blind hampers me very little.” Zane was laying it on thick, but he couldn’t help it. “Tonight, I’ll be glad to step aside. I have no wish to embarrass you, but I will stay near in case you have need of my protection.”

  Silence.

  “Pardon me, I did not mean to insult you.”

  “Yes, you did.” A bit of honesty slipped it. “But, that’s okay. I used to think that all women felt like you, but they don’t. And for that I’m grateful.”

  The evening went by with excruciating slowness. He was at home in the beautiful restored Paramount Theatre on Congress, he remembered it well - a blind man at a movie premiere might be an oddity, but Zane supported his community in every way possible. Afterwards, the party was held in the grand Driscoll hotel and Zane made some valuable contacts. Alicia wasn’t entirely rude, but he kept trying to read more into what people said to him than they probably intended. It was hard to think they might be smiling at one another or sharing a private joke at his expense. Damn! He hadn’t been this paranoid in years. But, he did his best to take care of business. By the end of the evening, he had sewn up Vision Star’s contract and passed his card to several big names who had heard good things about Saucier & Barclay. Now, all he wanted to do was go home. No, that wasn’t true – he wanted to go to Presley.

  Pushing her hair back, Presley breathed a sigh of relief as she took the last tray of sticky buns from the oven. Frasier had been glad to hear he was getting them, but he had also asked what had happened with the date. She had tried to explain, but the words had just sounded hollow to her own ears. All she could dwell on was what a good time Zane must be having with Alicia. She could just imagine the woman’s lilting laughter and how she would place her small white hand on his arm and how he probably held her close while they danced. In truth, Presley was just torturing herself.

  Something good had come out of the night, however. The odd feeling she had experienced when reading up on the Taylor case had finally come to the forefront of her memory. And she couldn’t wait to talk to Adam, in fact – she planned on doing it as soon as Frasier picked up the pecan buns. Presley couldn’t shake the idea that Laney might still be alive.

  She had papers scattered all over the kitchen table and every chance she got, she settled back and rifled through them again. Yes, there it was. She didn’t think she was wrong. All evening she had researched sites on the internet pertaining to a Houston cold case from six years earlier. A woman’s body had been found in a storm cellar in the back yard of an older home in an upscale neighborhood. The man’s name had been Raymond Kershaw. Their situation had been very similar to Kendall and Laney’s. According to testimonies obtained after the fact, Mr. Kershaw had been a total jerk who preyed upon women and once he got his clutches on one, they had a hard time extricating themselves. Apparently he was a smooth talker that poured on the charm. Neighbors had testified that he had been seen acting so normal, playing ball in his front yard with a small dog. The woman who had been murdered had been there, too, laughing and playing. They had seemed like a normal couple.

  But when Chelsea Norieaga had gone missing, the police had bought into Kershaw’s explanation and by the time they had gone full circle and finally searched in his own home, it had been too late for Chelsea. The forewarning he had received had resulted in her death and his complete disappearance. The city had been horrified to find that she had been caged in that underground coffin for several weeks. Presley tried to imagine the despair and terror the woman must have felt at being buried alive.

  One more time, Presley compared the notes on the burn marks on Chelsea’s body and compared them with what she had seen in the stills of Laney’s interview. Yes, it was stars. When Kershaw’s house had been searched, they had found a set of art metal punch stamps that he had used in making belts and billfolds. Presley’s skin had crawled when she had thought of him holding the metal star to a flame and then pressing it on their tender flesh. How they must have screamed! But the marks and the circumstances were too similar to ignore. What if Kershaw had just reinvented himself and was going by an alias? What if Kershaw and Kendall was the same person and Laney Taylor was still alive? She had to get hold of Adam before the search warrant was approved. If what she suspected was true, the police wouldn’t get a second chance to find Laney. At the first hint of danger, he’d kill her and be gone like before.

  Frasier came and left. He was so sweet, but what she had found concerning Laney had taken her mind off of Zane and Alicia – for a little bit, anyway. Her heart felt tender and there was a knot in her middle the size of a baseball, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it. She wished she were sure of Zane, but her own insecurities prevented her from being so.

  From what Renee had said, Adam was not at the function. She hated to bother him while he was with his mother, but this couldn’t wait. Dialing his cell, she sat at the table tense, but excited.

  “Hello?” It was Adam’s voice.

  “Adam, this is Presley. I hate to disturb you, but I think I’ve found something on the Taylor case that you should know.”

  “Tell me, I welcome any information you have.” Adam’s voice im
mediately sounded with the concern he had developed for a woman he believed to be beyond help.

  In a few minutes she had outlined her suspicions and was gratified that he took her seriously. “So you think these two cases might be related?” His voice was full of hope.

  “I don’t know, Adam, but I think it’s worth checking out.”

  Adam grew quite for a second, then let out a harsh breath. “I won’t waste a minute; if there’s a chance Laney could still be alive, I’ll move heaven and earth to find her.” Presley smiled. Adam was a knight in shining armor, no doubt about it.

  Having done what she had set out to do, Presley went and took a bath. It was nearing eleven o’clock and she wondered how Zane’s evening had turned out. Dressing in a pair of panties and a t-shirt, she settled down on the couch to read a few pages before she turned in. Glancing around, she remembered how amazing it had been to have him here with her. Of course, his size had made the small room seem even smaller, but never had it felt more like a home than when he was there.

  Lying back on her pillow, she pulled the comforter up over her and picked up a thick romance novel. One day she would get an e-reader, but right now an old fashioned book was a comfort. She had only read two pages before a knock sounded at the door. Presley jumped. She never had visitors. Who could it be? Scrambling around to find her robe, she padded barefoot to the door and rose up on tip-toe to look through the peep-hole. Zane! Throwing open the door, she didn’t even consider holding back but launched herself at him, almost knocking him over. “I am so glad to see you!”

  Zane let out a long sigh. What a difference between the woman he held in his arms and the one he had walked to her penthouse suite. The ironic thing had been that she had attempted to seduce him – after insulting him, ignoring him and treating him like an underling, she had come on to him like a two-bit whore. Zane had not had any trouble resisting the temptation. “Can I come in?”

  “Yes, of course,” she attempted to back up, but he just picked her up. “Nope, you aren’t getting out of my arms. I’ve missed you so much tonight.” Her little body was soft and sweet and fit so well up against his. Just like the romantics of old, Zane was beginning to believe he had found a woman whose worth was far more than rubies.

  “I will need to make the couch into a bed; I had already turned in for the night.”

  “Hmmmm, I have an idea.” He carried her, loving when she nestled against him, arms around his neck and head buried against his shoulder. A raging arousal filled him and the only thing that could appease his appetite was Presley. How he had missed her! When he had been in New Orleans listening to Willow’s proposal, all he could think about was getting back home and back in her arms. Putting her down gently, he said just one word. “Strip.”

  Zane could hear her following his order and he made quick work of his own clothes. The tux might not survive the rough handling, but it didn’t matter.

  “I’m naked.”

  God, he’d give ten years of his life to look his fill at her body. “I’m dying to touch you. For days, I’ve dreamed of taking you again.”

  “I can’t believe you came to me, tonight, Zane. I’d rather be with you than anyone else on earth.”

  Kneeling beside the couch, he placed his head in her lap. All of the wealth his parents possessed, all of the power and acclaim he had garnered and worked so hard for – all of his friends that stood by his side - - none of it meant as much to him as she did. Nothing in his life was as important as this one beautiful woman who accepted him so readily and asked for so little in return. Oh he had given her a job, but he knew full well that wasn’t the reason she was willing to hold him close when the night threatened to close in on him. She was his lifeline; she was his anchor in the storm that raged in his soul.

  “Stand up and then you lay down on top of me,” they changed places and when he was stretched out he pulled her body down on top of his. Jesus! He just wanted to moan in relief; there was no sweeter thing in the world than having a woman’s body on top of his own. It ought to be a law. “Stretch out now and just let me feel you.” She did and it was a sensual experience unlike any he had known. “I need you, Presley.” How long had it been since he said those words? Had he ever said them? Searching his memory he couldn’t recall a time when he had told Margaret that he needed her. The emotional bond he had with his former fiancé paled beside the one he had with Presley Love. Slowly and sensually, he rubbed her back and hips, enjoying the silk of her skin and the suppleness of her muscles. Hard little nipples poked him in the chest and she repaid his caresses with kisses and butterfly touches of her own. “You belong to me. Do you want to belong to me?” Even as he made a sure, authoritative statement, he questioned if he overstepped his bounds.

  “I want to belong to you more than anything.” Tears of absolute joy dripped down her face and splashed on his skin.

  “Don’t you dare cry. Do you want to break my heart?”

  “They are happy tears. I feel freer with you than I ever have with anyone, yet you make me feel safe and grounded all at the same time.”

  “Oh, Baby,” he whispered as he kissed her tears away. “You make me feel exactly the same way. Do you know how I broke my neck to get back to you tonight? I couldn’t wait.”

  Joy coursed through her veins. “Really? You’d rather be with me that those Hollywood types? Alicia Fields was really, really pretty. I don’t know if anyone told you, but you were out with the perfect woman.”

  He pushed her hair over her shoulder. Here she was, in his arms, trying to convince him that some other woman was perfect for him. “She was dowdy by the side of you – no personality, and she didn’t smell good like you, either.” Conspiratorially, Zane pulled her down to whisper, “and when I danced with her, I couldn’t help but notice that she didn’t have magnificent boobs like you do.”

  Presley giggled, “you sure were dancing close – maybe a little too close.” But his affirmations made her happy and she settled down on top of him.

  “Not as close as I want to be with you.” His hand smoothed down her side until he was molding her hip, loving the shape of her and wishing he could look into her eyes. Maybe. Someday.

  Presley felt her pussy dew. The thick hard ridge of his erection was right at her mound. She held herself up over him and drug her pussy up and down over it and loved it when he stiffened and groaned.

  “My God, Woman!”

  “I need you, you belong to me. Do you want to belong to me?” she whispered his words back to him and Zane thought his heart would pound so hard they could hear it in the next county.

  “I don’t think I have a choice.”

  “You always have a choice,” she spoke in a tone that could have been used by a courtesan. Presley was in full seductress mode, and she had no clue that he was already putty in her hands. Sitting up, she scooted back and sat on his legs, taking the heavy weight of his erection in one of her small delicate hands. Zane lay there – completely at her mercy – as she began to stroke that silken little fist up and down his cock, pumping him with a sure, firm motion designed to drive him fuckin’ crazy.

  “I do belong to you. You’re all I can think about,” his voice cracked as he felt one small lick of a velvety tongue. “I think about kissing you, rubbing these round, luscious tits, sucking those puffy nipples and sinking my cock into a pussy that has to be the snuggest, tightest, wettest little piece of paradise in the world.”

  God, she was wet. “I think about you, too, Zane.” Before she said more, she leaned over and placed her lips right on the tip of his cock and slid them down, but kept her mouth tight – one, long sucking kiss that had him bucking his lower body off the couch. She had to hold on or she would have fallen off of him.

  “Christ!”

  Pulling her lips from him in a slow sucking motion that ended with a little pop, she told him more. “I love to recall how you make me feel when you press deep inside me – how good it feels when you stretch me and your cock drags over that o
ne spot that makes me want to scream your name to the rooftops!” Beneath her his big body shuddered. Presley felt powerful. “I think about how it feels when you hammer into me, how I love for you to lose control and feel all the power in your thrusts. I love how your hips pump and how I can feel you all the way to my womb. And when you cum and all of that rich cream shoots up inside of me, I just melt.”

  God, he was horny! His little angel was becoming a vixen. “Tell me more.” He loved it.

  “My nipples ache so much. They want to be sucked.” She moved over him, dragging her tits over his chest, the nipples dragging in the light dusting of hair. He charted every move and when he knew she was near his face, he opened his mouth. “Do you want to suck my tits?” She drug one nipple over his lips and he lapped up at it like a hungry tom-cat. “Oh, that feels good. Now this one,” and she drug the other tit across his face. Zane had had all he could take. He stopped her movements with a firm clasp of his hands and opened his mouth wide, capturing the entire areola and nipple in his lips. And he inhaled them, ate at them, sucked and licked and kissed until she was humping his stomach and groin, spreading Presley honey all over him. “God! Yes! More! More!” she demanded as she came hard, her nails biting into his shoulders. The frantic movements she made as she scrubbed her wet pussy over the length of his massively aroused cock, alone, were almost enough to make him cum.

  “Damn! You came just from my lips on your tits. If you aren’t the sweetest, sexiest woman in the world, I don’t know who is.” Zane lifted her and held his cock up and – thank God – she eased herself down onto it – slowly. They both exhaled sighs of utter ecstasy and relief. “Shit, yeah. You are heaven to fuck.”

  They were crude words but he said them like a prayer and the sentiment warmed her heart. “Hold my hands,” she wove her fingers with his as she began raising and lowering herself on his rock-hard shaft. With every stroke she became more delirious with pleasure, it felt so good! Her pussy began to contract, she felt voracious for him. Where once she would have been embarrassed; now she was proud that she was wet. Her cream ran thick enough to coat his cock and flow down to dampen where they were joined.