play, whatever.”
Joy wanted to believe that, but she knew … she just knew that as long as her mind was engaged, she wasn’t going to be able to loosen up enough to find satisfaction. The wheels in her mind spun around an idea, one she wasn’t sure she should speak out loud. Would he think she was a total freak?
Regardless of her doubts, she wanted badly to be with Rafe—she wanted so much to believe what he was saying, and there might be one way they could both enjoy their time together.
“You’re open to anything?”
“As long as it doesn’t involve serious physical injury, animals or shaving off my body hair, yes. Anything.”
She laughed. He made her laugh so easily. That was a good thing, wasn’t it?
“My doctor told me my little problem wasn’t anything physical—I’m mentally blocked. I can, uh, you know … help myself,” she admitted, and saw his eyes blaze with interest. “Then there are my dreams…. Nothing holds me back in dreams, so it’s only a problem when I’m awake, apparently,” she tried to joke, but it fell flat.
“That’s good to know,” he said, not laughing, either, touching her face gently.
“So I’m thinking, maybe we should try being together at night. You know, if you come over and sleep here, and I start to dream … I think I would be less … repressed, just then.”
His brow furrowed, and she held her breath, afraid he would refuse.
“I’m all for spending the night in your bed, Joy—but are you saying you want me to have sex with you while you’re sleeping?”
She fidgeted, but decided to boldly state her case, since he had said he’d do anything.
“Well, I mean, I have these hot dreams, and they’re about you anyway, and maybe if you’re there, then if things start up, and maybe my mind would be as receptive as my body. I do want you, Rafe.”
He pulled on his jeans, taking a moment to think.
“I see your point, but I wouldn’t want to startle you, or worse, while you’re sleeping. Chances are those dreams are about more than sex. Maybe if we spend some time during the day together, and get to know each other a little, that would help, too. You know, the Japanese sometimes make foreplay last all day long, or longer, before actually having sex.” He smiled naughtily. “I think we’ve gotten a good start in that area.”
“Oh,” was all she could say. The thought of all-day foreplay with Rafe made her knees weak.
“So why don’t we clean this mess up and take a shower—” he looked down at the frosting dried to his chest “—and then we can head down to the shelter to talk with your friend.”
“You want to come to the shelter?”
“Sure, I want to help if I can.”
Joy chewed on her lip, thinking. “I don’t know. It’s probably not anything you really want to bother with, seeing as you’re just here for—”
“Joy,” he said, cutting her off.
“Huh?”
“Don’t close me out, and don’t make what’s between us low—I’m not just here for sex.”
She cleared her throat. “I was going to say, as you’re just here for a few weeks.”
“Oh. Whoops.” He slanted an embarrassed grin, but recovered quickly. “Well, I want to help, if I can. It’s less than a week before Christmas, and you have an ambitious plan, so I’ll be another set of hands. I’d like to be part of this with you, even if for a little while.”
She didn’t know why having him come to the shelter was so difficult, as if she were sharing more with him now than her body. Still, his appeal was sincere. He’d listened to her all day and had some good ideas.
“Okay. I appreciate that.”
“Thanks. It’ll be a fun day. And then …” His voice trailed off, but he was smiling in a way that made her blood warm and her muscles loose.
“And then?”
“I want to spend the night with you, Joy—I’d like to spend every night that I’m here with you. I’ve got enough of an ego that I’d like you to be awake when I’m inside of you. I want you to know you’re with me, not just in your dreams, flattering as that is. I want you to know it, remember everything I do to you.”
The way he said it made her melt. She remembered quite well what it was like when he filled her body with his own, and she would like to be awake for that, too.
“I know. Me, too. Maybe this is a way to get to that point?”
He pulled her close. “Sure … but first let’s go take that shower.”
10
JOY SAT IN THE MEETING, trying to concentrate, but her focus was not on the job at hand. She made eye contact with Ken, nodded, scribbled down a note, and then her thoughts wandered off. She couldn’t wait for this endless meeting to cease. Who really cared about what colors of certain toys sold better than others? Did she?
Not really.
However, she did care about being able to pay her mortgage, so she made another effort, listening intently to what was being said, only to find her mind drifting off yet again.
The routine tasks in her work bored her to death, if she were to be completely honest. She had more important things to think about, like the fund-raising event at Second Chance. Pam had loved the idea, but they were all busting their backsides to make it work—it was five days to Christmas and counting.
Christmas had suddenly taken over her life. Rafe was decorating everything in sight—including her, she thought naughtily, knowing she’d never think about frosting the same way again.
Along with Pam, they were throwing a Christmas bash at the shelter for the community at large, as well as businesses and organizations they wanted to reconnect with. It was a more personal way to put a kibosh on the rumors that might be spreading about Pam and to show how much good the place did in the community. Joy knew people would be impressed if they came and saw the place, met Pam and met the people who lived there.
She had so much to do to get ready. She also had to polish her final presentation for her official interview with the board for the promotion, and yet she found herself curiously less excited about that prospect. With Rafe, the holidays, Second Chance … there was so much going on, she was losing track of her priorities, she thought. Or they were shifting, which was a much more disconcerting prospect. She’d always known what she wanted, hadn’t she? Rafe was showing her a whole other side to herself that made her think maybe she should want more.
Between the sheets of paper that comprised her notes, she sneaked out her list of people to contact, reviewing it, strategizing the best way to approach each one. She planned to purchase formal invitations—bought with her own money—to send in the mail as well. She didn’t plan on accepting a refusal from anyone, if it meant she had
