Talking in Your Sleep...

Samantha Hunter

Get out of my dreams, get into my bed!"Oh, that's so good…touch me right there…" The X-rated monologues coming from next door are keeping Rafe Moore up at night–all he really wants is some sleep. How's he supposed to decompress from his EMT job when his sultry neighbor and her explicit fantasies have his blood pressure spiking?Tightly wound Joy Clarke can't explain what's brought on these sizzling "somniloquies"–about a complete stranger, no less. She's already stressed, and there is no rest from her wicked, wicked thoughts. But when Rafe discovers that the object of all that steamy sleep-talk is him, he's set to make her dreams come true. Problem is, in the light of day Joy doesn't recall a thing!

Talking in Your Sleep…

Samantha Hunter

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

For all my readers, old and new,

thank you for your support, e-mails, cards, notes,

comments and kind thoughts. I wish you all the

happiest and most wonderful of holidays, that you

find your passions and that the magic of it

will stay with you all year long!

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

1

RAPHAEL MOORE TENSED his body then relaxed it one inch at a time. He began with his toes, moving up his calves to his knees, and concentrated on releasing the strain in his lower back. Breathing evenly, he imagined floating on a warm, soothing ocean current, the heat of the sun hypnotically beating down on him, and drifted off into a dreamy half consciousness that soon would lead to sleep.

“Oh, that’s so good…. Touch me right there….”

“Dammit!” he cursed as his eyes shot open. The agitation of being wrenched out of his relaxed state doubled his shock. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes again, trying to control his heartbeat. He flexed his fingers in an attempt to catch hold of what had almost been his—a good night’s sleep.

“I love how you kiss me. I want your mouth everywhere….”

He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, planting his palms tightly against his ears, attempting to block out the woman’s voice. He could still hear her moans and sighs.

Obviously she was having a very good time, and he had no problem with that, but couldn’t she do it with the window shut? He felt like some pervert, for Chrissakes, listening in.

The action happening a few yards away wasn’t the only thing that was hot. A freak heat wave had temperatures up near ninety for Christmas in San Diego. It was inducing weird behaviors in everyone, the unusual weather combined with the usual holiday madness. His neighbors, however, seemed to enjoy being all sweaty.

After just having left the bitter cold of New York, he welcomed the heat, too. Summer was his favorite season. Even the smothering, humid city air in July and August didn’t faze him. He’d happily embraced the West Coast, which didn’t look at all Christmassy to him, in spite of the holiday decorations.

It felt like August, not December, and Rafe knew he’d made the right decision taking Warren up on his offer to stay here while his buddy was on his honeymoon in Thailand. Warren had grown up in the same Brooklyn neighborhood as Rafe. As kids they’d been inseparable and had served time on the volunteer ambulance together before Warren had decided that life wasn’t for him. Now he had his own consulting business in sunny California. He’d been bugging Rafe to come out for a while, so Rafe had flown out for the wedding, then stayed to house-sit. It was great timing for both of them. Rafe had the place to himself for a month until Warren and his bride returned on January third.

If only for the neighbors, it would have been perfect. Warren had bought this little fixer-upper on a small residential street in North Park, and after the renovation the house was going to be fabulous. Rafe liked working with his hands, and it helped to have something to do. He was used to working, and he’d go nuts sitting around all day. H