I can’t believe I’m going home with a man I barely know. I can’t believe I’m lying to my dad about where I am — I live with him when I’m on break from school, and he thinks I’m in the hospital — and I can’t believe that the man I’m going home with is Jax.

The hot bartender from my fantasies.

The one I have dirty sex dreams about every time I stop by the road house on the way to Grandma’s house.

The one who might have saved my life tonight.

I have a feeling the sex dreams are only going to get dirtier.

“Here we are,” he says from the driver’s seat, pulling me out of a half-sleep as the car comes to a stop.

We’re deep in the forest, in front of a cozy little wooden cabin. There’s a light on inside, the front window glowing with welcome. I blink a few times, confused because for a moment I don’t remember where I am.

“This is your house?” I ask.

“Yup,” he says, opening the door for me and offering his hand. “Built it myself.”

I stand from the car slowly, marveling at it. Even though I can’t see well I can tell that it’s beautifully done, the result of someone who’s good with his hands and takes the time to get things right.

I wonder if he’s good with his hands in other ways….

I blush, hoping Jax can’t see me in the dark.

“I like it,” I say.

Suddenly, without warning, Jax scoops me up in his arms. I squeal, both arms around his neck, but he’s got me safe and secure in his strong arms.

“I can walk,” I protest.

I think I see a glimmer of something in his dark eyes before he answers.

“But why walk if you can be carried?” he says, taking me inside. It’s as beautiful as the outside, and he flips on light switches as he carries me toward the bedroom.

My heart starts hammering, slow fire spreading downward through my body, making my skin tingle.

He’s taking me into his bedroom, I think. I know it’s a weird time, but maybe when he puts me down, I’ll just kiss him, and then one thing will lead to another, and…

All of a sudden, I’m aching with need, still in Jax’s strong arms. He puts me down on the bed gently, and for another long moment, I keep my arms twined around his neck and he bends over me, our faces almost touching.

Slowly, his hand strokes my side, his fingers warm and rough even through my hospital-issue sweatshirt. I’m not wearing a bra or even any underwear — all of it got taken as evidence, so there’s not much between us.

As he reaches the bottom of the shirt, his fingers skim across my bare skin for a moment, and I inhale sharply, fighting back a moan. I can feel his muscles twitch under my hands, his eyes dark and deep as they bore into mine, unknown depths inside them.

“Jax,” I whisper, placing my hand over his, holding it there, against my skin.

He growls but doesn’t say anything. I know that I should be afraid right now — he’s a strange man and I’m in his house, completely at his mercy — but somehow, I know that Jax is safe. He’s secure. He’d never let anything happen to me, and with that knowledge, I arch my back up off the bed, desperate for his touch.

“Get some rest,” he whispers roughly.

“Stay here,” I say, not letting go.

“I’ll be here. On the couch,” he murmurs. For just a moment, his eyes slide from my face down my body, and my pulse quickens.

“No, here,” I say. “You can’t give me the bed while you sleep on the couch.”

Jax flexes his jaw, the muscles knotting while he watches me.

“Ruby, I—”

“I won’t feel safe if you’re not here,” I beg. “Please?”

It’s not true. Even if he were in the other room, I know there’s no way he’d let anything happen to me. But I want him, need him here next to me, his big body against mine in the night.

I know I don’t stand a chance. I know he’s just being nice — I’m a twenty-year-old college student, and he’s clearly older, wiser, and could probably get any woman he wants. But just for tonight, I want to pretend that Jax might want me.

“Okay,” he finally says. “But any time you want me out, just the say the word.”

“You want me to fuck you?” he growls, teeth closed around one nipple.

“Yes,” I gasp, both my hands buried in his thick brown hair, his hard cock grazing against my thigh through his boxers.

“Tell me,” he says, before sucking it into my mouth.

I moan and arch my back, utterly lost to the moment. I’m completely naked and Jax is just in his boxers, splayed on his bed.

He finds my clit with his fingers and I moan again, body shuddering.

“Tell me you want me to fuck you hard and stretch your pretty little pussy out with my thick cock,” he says.

He slides one big finger into my center and I nearly scream.

“I want you to fuck me,” I gasp out.

He growls, sliding another finger into me.

“Jesus, you’re tight,” he says, his thumb still circling my clit. “I can’t wait to feel you come from inside you, Ruby. But I’m gonna make you come like this first.”

“Harder,” I beg, nearly senseless. “Jax, I need you.”

“Not yet,” he says, his voice at its lowest register. “That’s right, sweetheart, come for me.”

I’ve got one leg slung over his big, strong shoulder, and the pleasure of his fingers is making my vision blur and stretch as I whimper and moan, totally unable to form thoughts.

But even though I’m right at the edge of orgasm, I don’t come. It feels fucking incredible, but I’m not coming, despite everything.

“Jax,” I murmur. “Fuck me. I need your cock inside me. I want you to make me come.”

There’s a moment where something isn’t right. Like everything is sliding sideways, but then I focus, and it goes back.

“Sweetheart, I can’t,” he says, his fingers still working me but somehow it feels distant, like it’s happening in a memory.

“You can,” I say, starting to plead with him. “Please, I want you to—”

“Ruby, you’re a virgin,” he says.

My eyes fly open, and I’m holding my breath.

In front of me is the wooden wall of Jax’s cabin. I’m wearing sweatpants, in the bed, and I’m on my side with the covers half on and half off.

Importantly, I am not fucking Jax. Not even a little bit, though I’m still turned on as hell, my core aching unbelievably with the dream I just had.

I swallow hard, staring at the wall, mortified. I’ve had sex dreams about Jax before, but that one was way more detailed than usual, so realistic that I could have sworn it was real.

That’s also the dirtiest sex dream I’ve ever had about him. Apparently my subconscious has only gotten filthier with time, and I can’t say I’m disappointed. It’s not like I’ll ever be getting there in real life, so why not dream about it?

Behind me, someone shifts on the bed, and I freeze all over again. It’s ridiculous, but I’m afraid that Jax can somehow tell what I was just dreaming about.

But of course he can’t. Thank God.

“You all right?”

His voice rumbles right next to my ear, closer than I thought he was. I’m startled for a moment, then manage to nod.

“Fine,” I say, not daring to turn over.

There’s a big hand on my shoulder, though it’s gentle.

“You were jerking in your sleep a little,” he says. “You must’ve been having quite a dream.”

My face flushes hot, and I don’t dare look at him again.

“I was riding a horse,” I blurt out, the first thing that comes to mind.

“Ah, that explains it,” he says. “I was worried that something bad was happening.”

Explains what? I think frantically, but I don’t ask. I can only imagine what I was doing in my sleep that having a dream about riding a horse would explain.

“I’m fine,” I say again, still too mortified about the dream to turn around and face Jax.

But he stirs behind me again, softly draping one arm over my side as he scoots toward me, his warm bulk against my back. Despite myself, I close my eyes and let myself relax against his heavily muscled body. I swear I can feel his stretch even now, while he’s spooning me in bed.

I move, just a little, and suddenly that’s not all I can feel.

Jax is hard. There’s something poking right against the back of my thighs, dangerously close to my center, and he doesn’t shy away.

It’s just morning wood, I remind myself. All men get erections in the morning, or at least, I think they do.

It’s not because he’s into you and it’s not because you were sleep-humping him, so just chill out and enjoy the moment and try not to remember that dream too much.

Of course, I think about the dream again. About the sheer dream-pleasure of Jax’s thick fingers working me from the inside, and about just how badly I wanted him.

I could do something about this right now. I could reach behind myself and take his thick length in my hand, listen to him groan as I pump him.

I swallow hard, every muscle in my body now rigid with nerves at the mere thought of doing that. Jax is an unattainable, hot, older-man dream and that’s all.

Even if I’m currently in the dream’s bed.

“I guess we should get up,” I say, my voice uncertain even to my own ears.

Jax squeezes me a little tighter, his cock bumping up against me again. I have to bite my lip against the wave of warmth that shoots through my body.

“Five more minutes,” he says, his voice rough. “Then I’ll let you up.”