Holiday Heat

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Holiday Heat Page 9

by Janelle Denison


  She glanced down, rubbing her palms against her jeans. “I just had some time to think, and I can’t help but have questions. A lot of them, actually.”

  “Like?” he asked, prepared to deal with whatever was on her mind.

  She lifted her gaze to meet his. “Like why you left so suddenly and why you came back into my life the same way.”

  He nodded slowly, glancing up at the empty tree top, wondering where to begin. Hoping he wouldn’t push her further away.

  Though she sat cross-legged on the floor next to him, their easy camaraderie was gone, and she went out of her way to make sure her bent knee didn’t touch his. She was waiting for an explanation, and he wondered if anything he said would make sense—or make a difference to her now.

  “You know how badly I wanted to act.”

  She nodded. “You said Broadway. We had plans. Dreams. At least I thought we did, but after you took off, I convinced myself they’d been my dreams and you’d humored me through high school before moving on.” At times she even thought that he’d used her, Holly thought.

  She bit down on her lower lip, not wanting Dylan to see the extent to which he’d hurt her. Certainly she didn’t want him to know his betrayal had probably ruined any chance she had at trusting any other guy. Now that she was beginning to understand how deeply he still affected her, in a way she resented him even more.

  He gazed at the needles on the tree as if they could offer clarity until finally he spoke. “The closer we got to graduation, the more trying for Broadway and acting in New York seemed like a sacrifice,” he admitted. “Like I’d be accepting second choice without even trying for the big-time.”

  “So why didn’t you just tell me? Or was I that much of a burden?” she asked, admitting her fears out loud for the first time. “Were you afraid I’d hold you back?”

  He jerked backward and stared. “Are you serious? It was just the opposite. I didn’t want to hold you back. Your family had dreams and goals for you. You had those same dreams.”

  Then, at the same time, they both said, “Yale, like your father and his father before him,” laughing despite the serious conversation.

  “You see? I knew if I told you I wanted to go to L.A., you’d probably have insisted on going with me. Yes, there was Stanford or other schools, but none of them were Yale, and none would uphold your family tradition.”

  “Wasn’t that my choice to make? Unless it was an excuse and you really didn’t want me—”

  He grasped her hand hard. “I didn’t want you to end up resenting me. And in case you need a reminder or proof of how much I did and still do care, here it is.” Taking her by surprise, he leaned over and met her lips in a searing, demanding kiss.

  A kiss she both wanted and needed, and this time she didn’t hesitate. She parted her lips and allowed him inside. His tongue swirled in her mouth, teasing, tasting and demanding she understand. And though she still held the pain in her heart, a part of her accepted the explanation. His kiss and gentle touch went a long way towards helping her heal.

  She placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed backward. He toppled to the floor, pulling her on top of him until they lay sprawled beneath her Christmas tree, her legs tangled with his. Their bodies fit tightly yet perfectly together, the hard ridge of his erection thrusting upward against her, making her very aware of his desire, which found a feminine answer inside her.

  She couldn’t deny the aching emptiness only he could fill or the trickle of desire dampening her panties. She wanted him. Scarier yet, she needed him.

  He stared up at her, his sexy gaze smoldering with raw passion and emotion she couldn’t mistake. “I missed you, Holly.”

  “I missed you too,” she admitted, and then, to keep things light, she nipped at his lips with soft kisses and teasing strokes of her tongue.

  His hands came to rest at her waist. “I told you why I left. Don’t you want to know why I came back?”

  She trembled, and desire wasn’t the reason. “I’m really not sure I want to know. I can’t imagine with all that’s happened in your life that you just couldn’t stop thinking of me,” she said, forcing a laugh.

  “I couldn’t stop thinking of you.”

  Her heart filled with warmth. “You always knew how to make me feel special, Dylan.” But common sense told her not to read too much into his comment.

  He’d come home to visit, the first time since she’d been back home, and he came to see her in order to make amends. The chemistry was just a bonus he’d opted to act on, and she certainly hadn’t said no. She didn’t fault him for that, and she didn’t fault herself for letting him back into her life. She needed closure in order to move on. Being with Dylan was giving her that now.

  “I can charm anyone. That’s a fact.” He winked, and she saw the movie star America adored. “But not you. I never could bullshit you, and I don’t intend to try and start now.”

  “Well, good. Then we both understand you came back to set things right between us.”

  He nodded. “That’s one way of putting it.”

  And there was the probability that he meant his words at face value. That he was home for a short time only. Long enough to make things right and leave his mark, but short enough that he wouldn’t get bored. For certain he’d be gone before the itch to move on set in.

  Knowing that, she wouldn’t mind getting all of Dylan North that she could. “I think we’ve done enough talking, don’t you?” she asked, feeling a wicked grin take hold as she lowered her face to his.

  “For now,” he agreed.

  She nuzzled his neck, her cheek rubbing against his and her lower body beginning to shift from side to side, seeking to increase the building desire and friction between them.

  No sooner had she let out a low groan than he flipped her onto her back, switching positions. When they’d been together before, he’d always taken the lead. She was content to let him do so now, certain her time would come to show him how she’d changed and how she’d become more certain of herself and her sexuality.

  He pulled her shirt upward, exposing her midriff, his eager hands branding her with their heat as he worked his way upward to her lace bra. His fingertips teased beneath the elastic, his palms finally coming to rest where they belonged, cupping her breasts in his hands.

  “You’ve filled out,” he said, approval and gruff desire in his tone.

  “Like you’d remember.”

  His expression changed, his features taking on a wounded look. “You think I don’t?”

  Unwilling to kill the moment with talk of the women who’d come in between, she shook her head. “I was joking. I remember everything between us, and I’m sure you do too.”

  His gaze softened. He pulled her top up and over her head, then slipped her bra straps down her shoulders so that he revealed her bare breasts to his hungry gaze.

  Shockingly, she felt no embarrassment, only a sense of rightness as he devoured her with one look. His thumbs brushed insistently over her nipples, back and forth, until they hardened into tight peaks and she felt the languorous pull straight to her core. He dipped his head and began a steady suckling with his mouth, his teeth lightly grazing, his tongue gently soothing, but every motion carefully orchestrated to bring her higher and higher, closer to the brink of orgasm.

  She wanted his dark head bent at her chest and his warm breath and heat on her breasts as she came apart in his arms. And then she wanted him to fill her completely, so when he left this time she had adult memories to tuck away with the teenage ones she remembered.

  “You always knew exactly how to make me come,” she murmured, whispering into his hair as his mouth continued to work ultimate magic.

  He chuckled and she felt the vibration throughout her body. “That’s because you’re so damn responsive.” And as if to prove his point, he blew a wisp of air across her breasts, the cool breeze puckering her nipples and causing her hips to shift restlessly beneath his.

  “See?” He splayed his hand a
cross her belly. “And if I do this, you’ll be moaning in no time.” His fingertips teased beneath the waistband of her jeans, lightly brushing the triangle of hair just waiting for his touch.

  “Dylan,” she whispered, her body his for the taking.

  “I hear you, babe.” He reached for the snap on her jeans at the same time she sought to release his confined erection.

  But the jarring ring of his cell phone interrupted them. “I don’t want to answer it,” he muttered.

  The doctor in her disagreed. “Just make sure it’s not an emergency.”

  He rolled off her and groaned, grabbing for his phone. “Hello,” he barked into his cell. “Mmm-hmm,” he said, then listened some more. “Exactly what I’m looking for.” More listening and then, “I’ll be there.”

  His voice rose in definite pleasure, and she wondered if it was a role or a part in a movie he was talking about. She wondered too how preoccupied he’d be now that something big had obviously come up.

  “Anything important?” she asked after he’d snapped his phone shut and rolled over to face her, head propped against his hand.

  “Just some things I have in the works,” he said vaguely, his eyes twinkling.

  “Sounds exciting.”

  He reached over and rubbed his finger across her bottom lip. “Not as exciting as what I want to do with you,” he said and pulled her beneath him again.

  Chapter Four

  Before Dylan could pick up where they’d left off, Holly jumped up and headed for the kitchen to pull the lasagne from the oven to let it cool a bit before dinner. He took the few minutes alone to evaluate things between them so far.

  He knew he’d made progress with Holly, but not enough for her to believe in a future. Certainly not enough to tell her that the phone call had been from a real estate agent who’d found him five acres of wooded land and the perfect setting to build a house not far from Acton. Dylan had reached a point where he was ready to settle down away from the insanity that was Hollywood. With or without Holly in his life, he planned to purchase property and make it his permanent home between movie shoots.

  They’d already talked about his reasons for leaving and coming back now, but she was still skittish and unwilling to trust emotionally. He didn’t mind starting by winning over her body in the hopes that her heart and mind would soon follow.

  He paused in her bedroom and returned with a blanket, spreading it out over the floor in the family room and waiting until Holly came out of the kitchen.

  “Did we ever make love beneath the Christmas tree?” he asked her.

  Instead of bolting or growing wary, a slow, sexy smile curved her lips. “Not that I recall. We’d have been too afraid of getting caught.”

  “There’s no one to catch us now,” he deliberately hinted.

  “You don’t say.” She stepped towards him, an extra wiggle in her hips. He couldn’t mistake the fact that she remained half-dressed in her jeans, bra and nothing else. She hadn’t opted to dress or cover herself, another good sign.

  He sat back and waited.

  “So if I were to undress right here, no one would mind?” she asked, becoming a teasing seductress in front of his eyes.

  Before he could reply, she tipped her head to one side, and as he watched, she reached for and released the front clasp of her bra.

  His breath caught as she slowly shimmied the straps off her shoulders and pulled the cups away so her full breasts were bare, and he was drooling.

  “I sure as hell don’t mind,” he said, awed by her rounded breasts, flat stomach and sense of confidence, all of which turned him on.

  “Then this won’t bother you either.” She unsnapped the button on her jeans and lowered the zipper.

  He swallowed hard.

  Hands at her hips, she eased the waistband down. He didn’t know where to focus first, the expanse of pale skin on her stomach or the blond triangle of hair she slowly revealed when she’d hooked her thumbs into her underwear and drawn them down too.

  “You’re gorgeous,” he said, shocked he could formulate a coherent sentence.

  She smiled.

  Surely this physical trust had to mean he’d made more headway in breaching her barriers than he’d thought. If not, he was going to be one miserable son of a bitch in the morning.

  But damn he’d enjoy tonight.

  He reached for her, but she playfully smacked at his hand. “No touching until we’re equally at risk of being caught naked,” she said, laughing.

  “If you’re asking me to strip, no problem.” He grabbed for the fly on his jeans, which had grown way too tight, but she stopped him with one hand.

  “I want you to put yourself in my hands.”

  Ironic. He wanted her trust. She was asking for his.

  He raised his hands in the air and sucked in a deep breath as she popped the button on his jeans and, with some maneuvering on his part, removed his clothing.

  Then she splayed her hands against his chest, her touch warm and inviting. “Did you mean it when you said you’d missed me?”

  In her voice, he heard the uncertainty as the sassy seductress warred with the woman who still felt used and left behind.

  He twined their fingers together and pulled her onto the blanket. “I missed you,” he assured her. “Not a day went by that I didn’t think of you.”

  She moistened her lips. “Me too,” she admitted. “Even if it was just in my dreams.”

  His heart pounding hard in his chest, he leaned over her, his rock-hard erection poised at her moist entrance. He wanted to be inside her more than he wanted to breathe. But he also needed to know she felt and desired the same thing.

  “Dylan?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Show me how much you missed me, because I know I missed you,” Holly whispered, telling him exactly what he needed to hear.

  He reached down with one hand, teasing her dewy folds, easing first one finger and then another inside her. She arched her back and moaned, and with a shuddering breath, he thrust hard and deep, entering her at last.

  He was immediately clasped in her moist heat, her inner walls squeezing him tight. Both the physical and emotional sensations were stronger than any he could ever remember, and his pulse beat hard in his throat as he lost any semblance of coherent thought.

  As Dylan stilled inside her, Holly’s breath caught and she lay motionless, adjusting to his size and length, to the exquisite feel of him, hard and rigid inside her, where he belonged. She clenched him tighter, and the pulling sensation grew, spiraling and taking her to dizzying new heights.

  He met her gaze and withdrew slowly, so she felt every hard ridge of his desire until suddenly she was empty and aching without him. “Dylan, please.” She arched, trying to pull him back inside her again.

  “Happy to, babe,” he said and thrust with his hips, his hard erection filling her and making her whole once more.

  She let out a sob of gratitude, unable to hide her emotions.

  “Feels so right, doesn’t it?” he asked, his voice gruff.

  She could manage only a low moan from deep in her throat.

  He chuckled, but his body trembled, his control obviously stretched to the breaking point. So was hers. She lifted her legs, pulling her knees backward and drawing him inexorably deeper inside her body, until they were so close, she couldn’t imagine they were anything but one. And then with a groan, he released his tenuous control and began to grind against her, moving and pumping his hard body into hers.

  Their connection was electric, their movements synchronized and perfect, as if they had an unspoken understanding of each other’s bodies and needs. Her fingers gripped his back as she gasped for breath, shuddering and coming closer and closer to coming apart. She didn’t think he could get any deeper, doubted she could feel any more emotion, when she instinctively hooked her ankles together behind his back. Locked in place, he rolled his hips against hers, grinding at the same time he found the perfect spot and her body shattered f
rom inside out. Her orgasm hit hard, and she rode it out to its conclusion, her climax wringing everything out of her.

  Just then he took her off guard and shifted positions. She caught on and helped until he lay flat on his back and she was astride him. She hadn’t thought she could move or that another orgasm was possible, but when he shifted his hips beneath her, she changed her mind. The rhythmic rotation of his pelvis and the intimate contact of her feminine mound against his body had the contractions starting all over again.

  “Do it,” he told her. “Make me come,” he said, his hands gripping her waist tight.

  She did as he asked and took control, shifting her hips from side to side, lifting her body up and down over his, so he moved in and out at her whim. And it seemed that was what he’d been waiting for before he let himself go too.

  His orgasm was explosive, his body practically slamming upward into hers and making her peak a second time. But now she forced her eyes open and watched him as he came, eyes shut tight, jaw clenched and lost in shared pleasure and ecstasy, and it was all she could do not to cry and let her overwhelming emotions betray her.

  He fell back against the floor, his hands still on her waist, as sated and exhausted as she. She collapsed against him, their breathing coming together in rapid gulps. His heart pounded against her forehead, and she swallowed hard, fighting back the feelings he’d inspired. The overwhelming love she felt for this man frightened her because she did still love him. Had probably never stopped.

  He completed her, she realized now, and as he held her tight, she wondered if this moment together would be one of their last. Because he’d never be satisfied in Acton, the small town with its slow pace and lack of excitement. The town he’d happily left behind once before.

  A quick kiss, no explanation, and Dylan left first thing the next morning. Holly told herself she was glad, that things had played out as she’d expected. She told herself she could handle the brief fling he obviously wanted and intended. And she’d keep telling herself that until she believed her own words.

  She stopped at the office to do some insurance paperwork and see a few sick patients, before heading to the grocery store to fill her empty refrigerator and the department store for gifts. Christmas carols played over the speakers in the supermarket as she loaded her cart. As usual, the store was the central meeting place, and more than one friendly face commented on Dylan’s return and how his car had been parked on her street late into the night.

 

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