But it wasn’t just a wet dream. It was one of the best orgasms of his life. His nerves were still sparking from the rush of pleasure, and he felt more than a little out of breath.
With a sigh, he tried the bedding again. This time, he managed to extricate himself from the thin sheets and stumble into the bathroom without feeling like a clown. He washed himself quickly, eager to rinse away the reminder of his dream. Could he be held to things he said in his dreams? Or was it best to just put the whole thing out of his mind?
He looked through the door, his gaze tracing the outline of Carson’s body. Maybe it was best to focus on the living, breathing, passionate, handsome man in his bed, and not the charming, addictive specter haunting his dreams.10