Free It Came Upon a Midnight Dream by Bobbi Romans Page B

hopped out of bed and opened my curtains. My bedroom, which sat on the third floor in my apartment complex, gave me a gorgeous moon setting to showcase the gentle mini flakes that came down. I slid back into the warmth my bed offered and gave in to the pull of sleep.
    I found myself once again at the zoo. Instead of standing in front of the tiger, I stood in front of the gates. Locked gates. On the other side of the gates stood the sexiest man I’d ever laid eyes on.
    A Viking of a man. Well over six feet and at least two hundred and fifty pounds of pure, muscled man. Yowza.
    His hair was almost platinum and, like me, he wasn’t dressed for the weather. He stood bare-chested and wore a green and blue kilt complete with sporran. Too bad. As hard as the wind was gusting, it wouldn’t take much to blow the ...
    Holy shit! The sporran might be there but the damn thing must be absent of any weight. The wind curled beneath the plaid fabric and blew it straight to his belly. I knew what men wore under their kilts now.
    Not a damn thing.
    Hung was an understatement. He was also a true blond.
    In all my twenty-eight years I’d never seen such a sight. Sure, I’ve seen blond, but this was so way fucking far from that, he almost looked bare. I gawked away, knowing deep down this was a dream, and mine to boot, so I stared all I liked. No harm no foul. Hell, I didn’t even have to worry about birth control.
    Woo hoo !
    As I stared, his thick cock rose in silent greeting. The man made no move to conceal himself. He seemed quite at ease knowing his skirt billowed in the winter winds. For most men that same arctic air would have shrunk their willie into a Vienna sausage nub of thing. Not this guy. He didn’t appear the slightest bit uncomfortable about his nakedness nor the biting weather which seemed to be turning more violent as the moments ticked by.
    “Come to me.”
    Whoa, Nellie! My dream guy spoke. A deep, low, masculine tone that had me wanting to tear through the damn fence and rip the itchy-looking skirt right off him. The snowflakes took on a thicker, heavier appearance and again I wondered how it was we weren’t freezing our very bits off.
    I saw his gaze lower as his jawline grew stronger, as if he’d locked his jaw or grated his teeth. A quick glance down and I realized instantly what’d he’d zeroed in on.
    Though the cold strangely didn’t bother me, it hadn’t stopped my body from reacting to its icy caress, evident in the way my dark nipples jutted through the thin, white, cotton shift. Not just headlights, but full-on beams. The parking lights behind me most likely caused my gown to appear sheer as well. It wasn’t a very thick-gauge material but hell, it wasn’t like I could actually do anything about any of it. Not that I was sure I would. Not after catching Mr. Dream Guy’s hungry, predatory appearance, so penetrating and intense it rooted me to the spot.
    He cocked his head to the side, as if questioning my lack of come hither to his command, then stalked my way. He came as far as the gate before the frigid iron barred him from coming any closer, though I knew he wanted to. I understood the desire that swept over him, for the same fiery need burned through my veins as well.
    We were so close, yet not close enough for touching. God, I wanted to touch. Needed to do so as much as his tented kilt indicated he did.
    Fuck it. I closed the gap between myself and the gate. Grasped the popsicle-like bars, frustrated at the barrier between us and thinking of all the creative ways we could still get some jollies.
    “Who are you?” I whispered, forcing his nocturnal gaze to mine. I said this because his eyes had taken on a preternatural shine. Like a cat’s when you shine a light on them.
    Or a gator’s. But a cat—or a tiger as I guessed him to be—was far more romantic than any thoughts of getting my groove on with a gator.
    He moved his hands to cover mine, gripping the bars. His cool blue gaze shifted to