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

by Sable Hunter

  “But, I thought . . .” Zane held a finger up.

  “Willow panicked – big time. She got to thinking about big owls swooping down and taking Oscar, or voodoo priestesses nabbing him for sacrifice. In her distress, Willow dropped the towel and took off outside screaming “Oscar! Oscar! Oscar!”

  “Was she naked?” Presley gasped, giggling.

  “Stark,” Zane laughed. “Oscar! Oscar! Oscar! Neighbors came running, other dogs started barking, it was chaos. And when she realized she was naked, Willow nearly died!” They were at the baby boutique store by now, but Zane was still gesturing and laughing.

  “Did someone call the cops on her?

  “No, no cops. I think her fit was overlooked, except by one. Willow has a neighbor that has asked her out faithfully once a week for three years and she never says yes.”

  “Oh, that’s sad. She doesn’t like him?”

  “I think she likes him too much, but that’s my theory. Later, someone found a bouquet of flowers on the porch and the note on them said, ‘don’t you be embarrassed, all I saw was a glimpse of heaven. She knew the handwriting, it was her neighbor’s.”

  “Awwww, that’s sweet, how do you know what the note said?”

  “Because Kane and I are the ones that found the flowers.”

  “I can’t believe you two read her note!”

  “Hey, we’re her cousins. We’ve spent a life-time tormenting one another. What do you expect?”

  They wandered into the baby store and were immediately met by a clerk who had to stop and take time to pet Rex. “What can I help you with? Are you two expecting?”

  Oh, my goodness! Presley blushed. “No, we’re looking for a shower gift for a friend who is having twin baby boys.” She hadn’t spent a lot of time in store of this nature, so Presley was fascinated. There were baby clothes of every description – designer names, sailor suits, onesies – even cowboy clothes which immediately drew her eye. “Oh, Zane! Look at these!” Ratz, her tongue had slipped. “I didn’t mean . . .”

  His hand rubbed a gentle pattern in the small of her back, “It’s okay, Honey. Let me see them through your eyes.”

  “Okay,” she picked up one item after another. “There’s the cutest little denim jeans you’ve ever seen. And cowboy boots! And the sweetest little snap western shirts and teeny-tiny belts with Texas buckles. Oh!” She squealed. “I love these little University of Texas t-shirts, they say “Little Longhorn!”

  “I bet they’re cute. Let’s get them all.”

  Presley was excited, then she had a sad thought. “Aron’s gone, wouldn’t these clothes just make the pain worse?”

  “Libby doesn’t want to forget Aron, Honey. She’s not going to give up until all hope is gone. Let’s buy these for the boys.”

  “Okay, I’ll get the jeans and the boots and you can get the shirts and belt.” She set about making piles.

  “Let’s make the present from both of us and you pay me back with kisses.”

  Presley stiffened the least bit, “I have money.”

  Zane realized he was walking on eggshells. “Of course you do, but you have something else, too.”

  “What’s that?” She wasn’t following.

  “Me.”

  Presley couldn’t argue with that and she didn’t want to.

  As they were leaving the mall, Zane couldn’t help but ask. “Would you like a baby, Presley?” At one time, having a family was something Zane had longed for.

  Her answer made his heart sing. “Oh yes, if anyone ever loves me enough to give me one I’ll cherish him and his father every day of my life.”

  *****

  “It’s too dark in here, I’m sure. Let me turn on the light.” He knew right where it was, “Watch your step, too. I have on shit-kicker boots, but I bet you’ve got on a pair of those dainty heels and you don’t want to step in horse hockey.”

  Presley inspected the hay-strewn path. “I don’t see any anywhere; I think your employees keep the place immaculate.” A chorus of whinnies greeted them. With uncanny knowledge of where he was, Zane led her to the first stall. Inside there was an Appaloosa, a snow-white thin horse, with a smattering of fawn colored spots on her rump. “Meet Shawnee and her little man.”

  “What a little living doll! Can I go in?”

  Zane opened the stall door. “Sure, she’s as gentle as a lamb.”

  “I can’t believe someone sent her to slaughter.” Going to her knees she embraced the wobbly, leggy colt whose coat was the reverse of his mothers. He was tawny brown with white spots. “You are so good to rescue these horses, Zane. I admire you so much.”

  Her words were a balm to his soul. The sound of her affection did something to his breathing. She giggled and cooed to the small animal, the noise of tiny kisses made him want to jerk her up and ravish her right here in the barn. “What do you think we ought to name him?”

  “His mother has an Indian name. If you don’t mind, I’d like to call him Comanche. I bet he’ll grow up to be a beautiful boy.” Presley stroked the little beast, feeling the tiny animal tremble beneath her hand. He was nervous.

  “Comanche is a good name; it’s the name of an American Calvary horse that survived Custer’s Last Stand. Perhaps this mite will be as brave.”

  Zane leaned over the stall door, his head resting on his strong forearms. She wondered if he knew how sexy he looked. Just to make sure he realized it, she stood and kissed his cheek – one sweet kiss. “Thank you for letting me name him.”

  More than anything, Zane wanted to tell her that the horse was hers. She could raise him and ride him and call him her own. There was no question about it, he was falling in love with Presley and if he dared hope that Willow was right, he’d ask her to move in with him today. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Sugar. Let’s go meet the rest of the family.” He led her through the stable to where one horse was leaning over his door and watching them approach. The big animal let out a rumbled greeting. “Hello, Onyx. Meet Presley.”

  With hesitant fingers, she stroked the muzzle of the black horse. Not even the dimming light could hide the fact that the horse had been abused. Scars covered his coat, even his face. She was sure in time he’d heal, but right now the evidence of his maltreatment could not be hidden, except from Zane. “He’s been hurt.”

  “Yes, he has. But he’s getting better every day. Aren’t you, Boy?” Zane went on to explain what they were doing to restore the horse’s faith in mankind. He worked with them as often as he could, and after he got them to the point where they could trust again, he had another trainer come in and give them even more positive reinforcement.

  Next, Zane led her to Shalimar, and watching him with the skittish mare, Presley lost the rest of her heart. When Zane put his face against Shalimar’s and began to talk to her, it was like seeing the photograph hanging in the office come to life. “Aren’t you my pretty girl? You belong to Zane, don’t you?” He stroked her face and the horse nudged closer to the big man. Presley was entranced. “Isn’t she beautiful, Presley?”

  She wasn’t. Shalimar had suffered under the whip. She was battered and ravaged, but if anyone could heal her spirit and body, it was Zane. “Yes, she’s beautiful.” What else could she say? The truly beautiful thing, though, was seeing him love her unconditionally. To Zane she was beautiful. With a thud of her heart, Presley realized he did the same thing with her. Zane looked at her through the eyes of love.

  Presley was silent as they walked up to the main house. Rex was romping around and several of the men came over to speak to Zane. When they entered his home, she couldn’t help but remember the last time they were here and the shock of finding out that Aron was missing. That sad/happy day seemed like a lifetime, ago. “Is this Presley?” From the kitchen a happy voice greeted her. “Bring her to me, Zane. I’m trying to get a cake in the oven.”

  Zane led Presley by the hand and introduced her to his housekeeper. From what Zane had told her, Sherwood was sweet on Rachel and Presley could see
why. Even though she had a touch of grey, her dark hair hung lush and lustrous to her shoulders and her eyes shone like blackberries in the sun. “Hello, Rachel.” Presley watched the woman’s face carefully to see how she would react to someone so imperfect being with her Zane, but she saw only happiness and welcome in her eyes.

  Rachel put an arm around Presley and whispered in her ear, “You’ll never know how happy I am for you to be here. He has needed someone like you for so long.” If Zane heard, he was too polite to say so, but Presley knew how well he could hear, and she was embarrassed.

  “Something smells good,” she tried to maneuver the conversation back to safer ground.

  “Rachel spoils me.” With sure moves, he found the cookie jar with no problem.

  Rachel swatted him with a dish towel. “You do not need to fill up with sugary sweets. Next you’ll be wanting to have Cocoa Puffs for breakfast!”

  At that Presley laughed at loud. “He asked for them this morning.”

  “Did you give him any?” Rachel looked at Presley with mock disapproval.

  “No, she gave me a sticky bun, instead.” As they laughed and picked at one another, Presley realized how much she had missed in her life. The cold home she had grown up in and the absence of a mother had taken their toll on her perception of family.

  “Come on, let me get you settled where you’ll be sleeping – with me.” He pretended to lower his voice from Rachel, but she heard the older woman laugh. She knew exactly what was going on.

  This was the first time she had seen his room in the light of day and she was fascinated to see how it was decorated. Dark, masculine Spanish furniture dominated the room and the colors were vibrant blues and greens. Desert scenes and paintings of the Texas Hill Country graced the walls and a beautiful sculpture sat on the dresser. “This bronze looks so lifelike, is it a Remington?”

  Zane walked up to her, “No, it’s one of Aron’s.” Presley ran her hand over the cold metal and prayed for the family. She was dreading going out to Tebow, if the truth be known. Seeing the family trying to cope with the separation and continue living their lives was going to be hard. A movement and rustle behind her caused Presley to turn and her mouth flew open when she found Zane naked, aroused and laying on the bed. He held his hand out, “I need you.” It was as simple as that. Presley disrobed in great haste and joined him.

  He couldn’t see her, so she told him what she was doing. Presley longed for him to be as happy and fulfilled with her as he could possibly be. “Seeing you, all naked and hard makes me wet, Baby.” Presley had never spoke this way before, but she read enough romance novels to have some idea what men liked to hear.

  “Come up here, Little Girl. I’ll lick those titties and suck those sweet nipples for you.” With satisfaction, she saw his cock swell a little bigger, the head bobbing as it pulsated with lust.

  “There’s just so much of you to look at – and love – and kiss.” She leaned over and kissed the top of his foot, nibbling her way up to nip the tops of his toes.

  “Shit!”

  “Did that hurt,” she asked coquettishly.

  “Made me harder, why are you dilly-dallying? Am I going to have to come down there and get you?” Zane was having a ball. Presley was so much fun to play with. Light kisses began to trail their way up his leg and Zane had to grab onto the pillow to keep from cutting her play-time short.

  “Just give me a minute; I’m fulfilling a fantasy.”

  Holy hell. She was nuzzling his cock, licking his balls, massaging his thighs – just giving to him as unselfishly as she knew how. His whole body jerked with a jolt of pleasure as her little tongue began to lap at the head, paying special attention to the sensitive glans underneath. Zane felt that same rush of satisfaction he always felt any time she touched him. “I need you up here,” he cajoled. “Tonight I want to do the giving.”

  “Sounds good to me,” she gave his cock one more, sweet kiss and began moving sensuously up his body, rubbing herself on him like a contented cat. There was no area of his abs or pecs that went un-adored. Zane’s whole being was aroused almost beyond enduring. Presley straddled him at the waist, leaned down and began kissing him tenderly. “Do you know how sexy you are? Do you have any idea?” she purred.

  “I feel sexy with you,” he admitted. “Now feed me those succulent little nipples.” To his delight, he could feel her coming closer, and in a moment warm mounds of tit flesh were dangling in his face. Zane could feel pre-cum dripping from his cock. Gathering her breasts in his hand, he pushed them together and just rubbed his face all over them. God, he loved a woman’s breasts.

  “Oh, my Lord,” Presley sighed, loving the rub of his whiskers on her skin. “Bite me a little,” she suggested needing all he could give her.

  Zane molded and massaged her tits, sucking voraciously. He took one nipple in his mouth and sucked on it, tonguing the tip and nipping it just enough to make her jump. The other nipple was not ignored; he tweaked and pulled on it, milking it with his fingers. Spreading kisses down her cleavage, he went back and forth suckling and licking until he could feel her tremble in his arms. “Move up,” he instructed. He needed to taste more of her.

  “What?” Presley didn’t understand.

  “Sit on my face. I want to lap at that tender little pussy.”

  “I don’t know how,” she began, but he took over and she gladly let him. Taking her by the waist, he lifted her and she held on to the headboard not wanting to settle herself completely over his mouth and nose.

  “Lower, Sugar.” He took her by the waist and brought her right where he wanted her.

  Presley almost swooned as he tickled her clit, licked her slit, and speared up inside – fucking her with his tongue. That a man would do this for her just overwhelmed her heart with gratitude. Soon, being grateful was the farthest thing from her mind as he plucked at her clit and massaged her nipples with his strong fingers. Without conscious thought she rode Zane’s face, lifting and settling in rhythmic erotic undulations. “Yes, oh yeesssss!” she wailed as an avalanche of rapture took her breath away.

  Pride and satisfaction fueled Zane’s own desire as he lapped at the cream that spurted out when she came. There was no doubt in his mind that he had satisfied his woman. What a huge fuckin’ turn-on that was. He kissed all up and down her pussy, bringing her gently back to earth. But his own need soon won out, “I’m turning you around, Doll.” He helped her, she was so pliable and willing – his to play with – his to enjoy – his to love. When he had her facing his feet, she showed her appreciation by bending over to kiss his cock again, but that wasn’t what he needed right now, he needed to be inside of her – desperately. “Mount me, Sweetheart. Sit on my dick.”

  “Facing this way? Aren’t I backwards?”

  Bless her heart; she was in many ways still innocent. He was a damned lucky bastard! “This is called reverse cowgirl, but I want to do it my way.” She followed his guiding hand and eased herself down on his turgid, swollen cock. “Damn, that’s good,” he sighed as she enveloped him in her wet warmth. “Now, lay back,” she leaned toward his voice. “No, all the way back,” he laughed at her trepidations. “You won’t break me, it points naturally that way.”

  “I like this,” she sighed as he cupped her breasts in his hands and began to plump them between his fingers. “You can touch me all you want.”

  “That’s right, and I want to touch you all the time.” In this position, Zane had total control of her, and he loved it. He kissed her neck, fondled her tits and bucked his hips hard, pounding her pussy with sharp jabs that drug the head of his cock over her sweet spot over and over.

  Zane was in heaven. Letting go of one breast, he cupped her mound and began to swirl her clit. Presley arched and writhed, and he held her tight and continued to give her every bit of pleasure she could handle. But whatever she was experiencing was nothing compared to the bliss that he was feeling. Driving his cock in and out of her depths, he held her tight, scoring her collarbone with
his teeth. Over and over – in and out – he possessed her, he marked her, he laid claim to her body, her heart and her soul.

  With unerring mastery, Zane brought her to an earth-shattering climax. Crashing waves of ecstasy rolled over her body, her whole being awash in pleasure. If he hadn’t held her tight to him as she shook, Presley felt she could have broken the bonds of earth and flown beyond the stars. Every inch of her skin tingled with sensation. “Hold me, hold me, please. Never let me go,” she begged.

  “I’ve got you, Baby.” As her tight sheathe clamped down on him repeatedly, Zane allowed himself to take his pleasure, erupting in intense spasms, filling her with his life-giving essence. For the first time, he felt himself become one with a woman. There was no separation between them, she accepted what he gave and returned to him in full measure. Zane felt complete.

  For long minutes, she lay on top of him, her body dewed with passion’s dampness. He rubbed his palms over her skin, letting the vision of her beauty permeate his soul. Presley. His Presley. Since going to the mall together and hearing her exclaim over the tiny clothes, he couldn’t get the idea of giving her a child out of his mind. What had she said? ‘When someone loved her enough to give her a baby’, had been her immediate, sincere response. Well, here he was, and he couldn’t think of a better man for the job than Zane Saucier. Willow had given him hope that a radical new treatment existed that could restore his sight. But even if that didn’t pan out - Presley’s loving, unassuming, sweet nature had convinced him that he wasn’t a lost cause. For the first time in a long time, Zane felt worthy to be loved.

  Pressing kisses to her temple, he wrapped both arms across her chest. “Thank you, that was out of this world.”

  Wiggling around, Presley managed to turn over on top of him and snuggle down. “It just keeps getting better, doesn’t it?”

  A confession of love was on the tip of his tongue when voices from the front alerted them to the fact that they had company. Jumping up, Presley redressed in record time and Zane pulled on his pants and shirt with more leisure. “You know, this is getting to be a habit. I hope to high heaven there’s nothing else gone wrong.”