Joe was dreaming... again . Kindall was smiling at him, leaning in close, her fingers grazing his chest. Her voice soft and teasing, saying things a sweet girl next door would surely never say in daylight. He touched her golden hair. Her skin radiated a warmth that felt impossibly tender, as if she’d been made only for his touch. They moved together. They were somewhere private. Somewhere only they existed. She whispered his name. He moaned, hips jerking, body trembling. The sensation overwhelming him completely. In the waking world, his wife stirred. “Joe?” her sleepy voice murmured. He came to with a jolt, chest tight and unsteady, finally managing to open his eyes. “Sorry. Just… bad dream,” he mumbled, turning over quickly. But it wasn’t a bad dream. It was one of the best dreams he'd ever had... one he wanted desperately to come true. He stared at the wall, willing his body to quiet, the damp sheet beneath him sticking to his skin. . . . . . . Down the ...