She’d been dreaming of him. Blackridge. His hands had been skimming over her naked skin. He’d put his mouth on her breast, suckling it, licking her nipples. Then his mouth had covered hers and he was kissing her, the weight of his body pressing her down, that rigid male part of him pushing between her legs . . . “Wake up, princess.” “Go away . . . so nice . . . feels so nice,” Angela murmured. He said something in her ear she didn’t understand. Then his knee was resting on the mattress, his weight causing her to roll into his thigh. Her hand came up to caress the back of his leg, then up to his tightened buttock. “Mmmm . . .” She arched her back, thrusting her breasts upward. “I said wake up.” He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into a sitting position. Angela screeched in pain, jerking her injured arm from his grasp.
