Sleep came quickly, but Anne stuck around. We were at the charity event. She was in that sexy dress that exposed her back. I had an urge to run my tongue along the graceful curve of her spine.
She was walking away, so I rushed to catch up to her. “Anne. Dance with me.”
“What?”
I couldn’t be sure if her expression was surprised or horrified. Probably both. I felt both at having asked her. What the fuck was I thinking?
“I want to talk to you. Dance with me.” Clearly, I’d lost my mind.
“I don’t want to talk or dance.”
“Why do you have to be such a…” I stopped myself. Anne called me names all the time, but I knew it was a step too far for me to call her a nasty name.
“Why do you have to be such a shithead?” It was her favorite term for me.
In real life, this conversation had taken a turn for the worse. I accused her of trying to get money from my sister. But this time, in my dream, I didn’t do that. Instead, I looped my arm around her and tugged her in close for a dance.
Her eyes flashed with fire, but it wasn’t all anger as her body pressed against mine. No. She was turned on.
“Why do you hate me?” I whispered the words in her ear, feeling triumphant at the way her body shuddered.
“Why do you hate me?”
I pulled her closer, feeling her sublime breasts against my chest. I wanted to slide my hand down over her ass, but resisted.
“I don’t hate you. I find you annoying.”
“I don’t like how you treat Harper.”
“So, you have a problem with big brothers being devoted to their little sisters? For wanting to make sure they’re safe? Would you rather I acted like Peter?”
I knew Peter a little bit. He’d been a fun guy, but the longer he worked for his father, the more he was turning into a tyrant. I imagined he treated Anne with a similar disdain as her father did.
She stepped away from me.
“You’re cruel.”
Fuck. How was it even in my dream I was an asshole?
She walked out of the ballroom. I followed her into an elevator. Why did she have a room here? She didn’t have the money. But dreams weren’t to be questioned.
“Why are you harassing me?” She looked exasperated and wary. The fun of sparing had worn off for her.
“I don’t want to harass you.” I stepped closer to her. Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t back away. “Actually, I’d like to be nice to you.”
She arched a brow. “Nice? Are you capable of that?”
I nodded, stepping closer to her. “I can show you how nice I can be.” I put my hand on her waist and leaned in, inhaling her scent, a mixture of spice and vanilla. She rewarded me with another shudder.
“I don’t believe you.” Her voice was breathy, and her gray eyes darkened, a telltale sign of arousal.
“I bet you can be nice too.” I stared at her lips, imagining them wrapped around my dick.
I slid my hand under the cover, wrapping it around my cock and stroking as I imagined seducing Anne.
“Are you saying I’m a slut too?”
“No.” I leaned down, trailing my lips along her neck.