by Sylvie Fox
She joined him on the faux fur rug before the fireplace, sitting as far away as the rug would allow. Holly fiddled with her watch, not meeting Nick’s eyes.
“Holly, please relax. We won’t do anything you don’t want.” His words fell like stones in a still pond, the ripples teasing her senses. Did he want her? What did she want? After what seemed like forever, Nick handed her a glass of wine and spoke again. “Please tell me what’s been going on with you this past year. I feel like I’ve missed so much. I need to catch up on your life.”
She could do this—have a normal conversation. Holly mustered up her courage and looked into Nick’s deep, green eyes. Yes, she felt a genuine fondness for an old friend. There was also that zing of attraction that gave her goose bumps and further tightened her already beaded nipples. She tried to focus on the former feeling when she answered him.
“Nick, I’m really happy for the first time in a long time.” When she said it, Holly realized it was true. “I’m finally living a life I’ve always wanted. I’m in this lovely old grand dame of a Spanish building surrounded by my grandmother’s furniture and antiques. I love my neighborhood, and I can walk to a bunch of shops and restaurants. It’s pretty cool.” Nick didn’t break eye contact, or speak, but nodded encouragingly while sipping his own wine.
“Work is going well, also. I’ve changed positions since the last time I talked to you. I feel like I’m doing something a lot more meaningful.” Holly described her new role at Equia Children’s Entertainment, which was approaching its centennial as the most well-known animation studio in Los Angeles. Located away from the hustle and bustle of the other studios, near the ocean in Venice, its Otto the Otter trademark was almost as recognizable as Mickey Mouse. After her divorce, she switched from marketing and promotion to community outreach.
Promoting the latest animated movie and related merchandise to little kids had lost its luster. Instead, sharing the studio’s largesse with the less fortunate citizens of the greater Los Angeles community was truly where her heart was. It was her job to distribute corporate grants to community non-profits and organize employees to volunteer for local charities.
“I guess I’m finally where I want to be in life,” she paused, thoughtful. “I’m ready to settle down, get married, have kids—the whole shebang,” Holly finished, and realized that Nick was really listening to her, not just nodding to appease her as Drew often had. Feeling more at ease, she took a large sip of the red wine in her glass and ate a wedge of soft, deliciously pungent cheese followed by a chunk of bread.
When she relaxed, she began having more fun than she’d had at that loud party. They talked, ate, and laughed into the early hours of the morning. Nick regaled Holly with all the triumphs and mishaps of his remodeling efforts. Feeling warm—whether from the wine, the fire, or the company, she didn’t know—Holly took off her boots and sweater and curled up in a luxuriously soft throw Nick had handed her at some point. Feeling her eyelids droop, then become heavier and heavier, she let sleep overtake her.
Nick gently removed the empty wine glass from her hand, gathered their picnic remains, and carried them to the kitchen. He pulled another plush pillow toward Holly and propped her head on it. He tucked the throw more securely around her shoulder, eased her into the crook of his shoulder, and lay down next to her, watching her doze.
He stroked her bare arms, amazed at the softness of her skin. His breathing quickened as he watched her nipples pucker. When the fire died and the temperature dropped in the room. He slid the throw down to get a better look at her lithe body under the whisper-thin camisole. Damn, he’d forgotten she’d ditched the sweater. There was only the thinnest silky thing between him and her. It was obvious that she wore no bra. He was only a whisper away from her pebble hard nipples. It took all his might to keep his hands away from her skin.
God, she was beautiful. Nick watched the fading firelight flicker on her dewy skin and soft lips, pouty with sleep. He couldn’t believe Drew had walked out on someone as wonderful, as giving, as beautiful as Holly. He admired Drew for his work ethic and business savvy, but when it came this woman, Drew had lost his mind.
Unable to resist touching her again, he ran a hand through her silken curls, then brushed her warm cheek with the back of his hand. Nick snatched it back, caught off guard once again by the swift reaction of his groin and the unexpected quiver in body. He couldn’t believe how much he wanted her. He’d been thinking about her all of these months, and her presence in his house, where he’d fantasized about making love to her time and again, was killing him slowly. He could think of only one way to relieve the pressure.
“Holly,” he whispered gently, stroking her hair, waking her.
“What?” She awakened and eyed him sleepily, her golden cat-like eyes reflecting the dying firelight. “Do you want me to get ready to go?” she asked rustling under the throw.
“No,” he stilled her with a large firm hand on her hip. “I need to… ” Her sleepy amber-flecked eyes, luminous in the smoldering fire, looked confused and a little unfocused. Nick let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Stroking her lip with the calloused pad of his thumb, he continued. “Holly, I desperately need to kiss you right now.” Nick caught her hair in his hands and fitted his mouth to hers.
Chapter Two
Nick’s firm, sensual lips against Holly’s soft ones felt like heaven. She should have known it would feel like this between them when each touch had almost sent her through the roof tonight.
Every brush of his lips across hers, each stroke of his tongue created a persistent thrumming down below. Even though she had been warm beneath the throw, Holly shivered when his large hand stroked her side, the pad of his thumb grazing her nipple. Nick broke off the kiss and stared hard at her, longing clear in his eyes.
She started to pull herself out of his arms. “Nick, I don’t think this is good idea.”
“Don’t think,” Nick said very slowly and deliberately before taking her lips again. Holly couldn’t believe this amazing mouth belonged to Nick. In all the years she had known him, she couldn’t have imagined they would fit together this well. It was like she had found the missing piece of a puzzle. Drowning in sensation, she wasn’t aware that Nick had eased her silky camisole above her breasts until she felt the chill air caress her bare chest.
Holly moved to pull her tank back down. “Nick, I’m kind of small up top,” she said, flustered. She wasn’t ready for this, for him to see her breasts lit by the few smoldering embers casting a weak light in the room.
“Holly,” Nick said, stopping her hand. “You’re so beautiful, so perfect, and just right for me.” Holly relaxed a little, until Nick’s head swooped down and captured a puckered, dusky pink nipple between his lips, alternately sucking, then licking until she was gasping for breath.
It had been so long since Holly had felt this good, this cherished, this wanted.
“I’ve waited years for this,” Nick whispered. He blew on her overheated flesh. “Let me pleasure you.”
Intellectually, Holly knew being with Nick was wrong, but it felt so right. She was looking for Mr. Right—someone in it for the long haul—marriage, a house, and babies. Nick was a young guy looking for Ms. Right Now. Still, rational thoughts fled when he touched her again.
She could feel the aching loneliness of the last two long years ebbing away. For tonight, she wanted more than anything to take the pleasure he was giving—to be his Right Now. When he captured her lips this time, she threw caution to the wind and returned his kiss with conviction.
What felt like seconds, minutes, or hours later—she couldn’t tell—he reluctantly pulled his mouth from hers, breathing heavily. Disentangling their arms, he settled her gently on a plush pillow and trailed his hands through her hair, a finger across her lips. He stroked the insides of her arms, traced her aureoles, then dipped his head to gently nip at the indentation of her navel, his hair grazing her belly.
Holly sucked in her breath in anticipati
on when Nick unbuttoned her jeans—his wonderfully male smell overwhelming her. She lifted her arm to stroke his hard chest and rippled stomach through his shirt. His body was warmer and harder than it looked. Holly’s hips bucked when Nick slid a finger into the waistband of her lacy boy shorts and brushed against her dampened curls. Nick's eyes glowed emerald with his desire.
“Holly, I never imagined you’d be this warm, this responsive,” Nick breathed.
He tugged her jeans down and blew softly at the area between the apex of her thighs. Her lacy, black panties followed the path of her jeans, and she thought she was going to melt. All of Holly’s modesty flew out the window when his lips fastened on her sex, and his tongue teased her clitoris. He positioned her legs over his shoulders, his tongue darting and flicking. His hands skimmed up her sides to palm her small breasts, his roughened fingertips massaging her erect nipples. The combination of his soft tongue and strong fingers caused her womb to tighten. His dilated pupils made his green eyes looked almost black.
Distantly, she thought she heard her own whimpers and cries of ecstasy. Her hips flexed of their own volition, placing her sex closer to his expert ministrations. She was so close, hanging over the edge of the precipice. When he removed one hand from her breast and inserted a finger inside her, she exploded, the years of celibacy bringing about her quick release.
Her cries echoed off the unfinished walls of the house. Nick’s hard, hot, denim-covered erection brushed against her leg as he gathered her in his arms. Instinctively, Holly reached down to stroke his length, to bring him the same pleasure and release he had brought her. Nick gently pulled her hand away, lacing his fingers with hers.
“Shhh. It’s late,” he said, smoothing her hair.
“But—”
“I’m okay. I wanted to make you feel good.”
He gathered the throw over both of them, murmuring words of comfort, words of tenderness, until she fell into a deep sleep.
The bare, arched windows gave way to the bright California sunshine around seven the next morning. The fire had burned down, and she was shivery with only a thin silk camisole and blanket covering her body. She stretched languidly, reveling in the feeling of blissful release, until memories from the previous night came flooding back.
Her body snapped back like a rubber band, blood rushing to her face and chest. Fortunately, Nick wasn’t in the room to witness her face flame. Holly wasn’t displeased by their lovemaking exactly. But it was an especially vulnerable time after the years of celibacy. She was discomfited that she’d taken that journey with her much younger friend. Sex could ruin friendships. Holly fervently hoped that they could go back to the way they used to be.
Holly quickly located her panties and pulled the lacy black scrap on, then shimmied into her jeans. She was leaning on the deep windowsill, zipping her boots when Nick brought her a steaming mug of tea. The sweet scent of Darjeeling wafted by her nostrils even before she sipped.
Handing her the tea, he smiled. “Here, why don’t you drink this?”
She couldn’t believe he remembered she liked tea in the morning. It was a relic of so many mornings spent with her English grandmother. She’d mentioned it to him only once, years ago.
Finger combing her unruly hair, Holly lifted her lashes to look at Nick. Too uneasy to speak, she sipped her tea, suddenly fascinated by the swirling brew. Before she could gather her thoughts to say anything, Nick’s deep voice filled the air.
“Holly.” He tipped up her chin until she was looking directly into his eyes. “I don’t regret anything that happened between us. I need you to know that.”
Setting her mug down on the sill, she worked to gather the courage to talk. She wanted to say so many things: how incredible last night had been. That he was an unbelievable kisser. He had made her feel more cherished that she’d been in a long time. How she would like to spend more time getting to know him, man to woman, even if it wasn’t a good idea. But none of that seemed right. Despite all that, the inappropriateness of a relationship with someone this young clamored in her mind.
“Nick, I think you should take me home now,” was the only sentence she could muster.
His green eyes were murky and unreadable when he spoke. “Finish your tea. I’ll get my keys.”
When he jogged upstairs without protest, Holly was slightly disheartened. She knew she was just a one-night stand, of sorts, but was a little disappointed that he was willing to shake her off so quickly. Though she didn’t want to probe too deeply at the source of those feelings because it made no sense for her to be upset. She knew they could go no farther than they had the night before, but she wanted him to want more even if she couldn’t acquiesce. Shaking her head to dispel her traitorous thoughts, she finished her tea, then knotted her sheer cashmere sweater across her shoulders.
The ride down the hill was mercifully silent. The top was down on his small two-seater, luxury convertible, but she still felt confined in the small cabin of the Mercedes. His every movement reminded her of the pleasures of the night before. From his flexed forearms, tanned and lightly dusted with fine hairs, turning the leather-covered steering wheel, to his strong, blunt-tipped fingers manipulating the gearshift. She could almost feel those capable hands caressing her still-heated flesh.
The streets of the city were deserted, and when he pulled up to her small duplex, she had her hand on the door handle before the car came to a full stop. She needed to escape the car and the cliché of the predatory older woman cougar taking advantage of a vulnerable younger man.
His deliberate hand on her forearm stilled her movement.
“Holly?”
She turned toward him, already drowning in the pools of his green eyes.
“I want to see you again,” he said.
She flooded with relief that he still wanted her as much as she wanted him. Reality quickly set in, and she shook her head, almost involuntarily. “Nick, you’re a great guy, but this cannot happen again.”
The hurt she thought she saw in his clear green gaze surprised her. Holly ignored it and spoke quickly. “Nick, don’t get me wrong. Last night was unexpected—but nice. It just can’t happen again.
“You know that I recently ended a relationship with someone who was out for a good time, living for the here and now.” He started to speak, but she plowed on, silencing him. “I’m at a stage in my life where I know what I want. And that’s marriage, a child or two, permanency.
“You’re young. You have a lot more experimenting to do. I want you to enjoy it. The twenties were some of the best years of my life, and they should be for you as well. A relationship with me would just hold you back. But call me sometime, I’d love to hear how things are going—come to your official housewarming party, maybe just get together.”
Holly was proud at having closed this door in her life so maturely, before it had opened too far. She might be wildly attracted to Nick, but she was mature enough now to know that lust wasn’t everything. It wasn’t forever.
She leaned over to give him a goodbye peck on the cheek. He turned his head toward hers and caught her in a dizziness-inducing kiss, his hands stroking her hair, caressing her soft cheek. Reluctantly, Holly pulled away. She almost ran from his car, through the courtyard, to her apartment. Once she was safely behind the solid wood door of her second floor flat, she could breathe easier. She didn’t know what had come over Nick, or her for that matter, but she needed to work him out of her system—the sooner, the better.
Holly undressed, leaving a clothes strewn path to the bathroom door. If she just showered, maybe she could forget what had happened. Yet the pulsing hot spray did nothing to erase the memories of Nick’s tender worship of her body. Even the touch of her own fingers washing and conditioning her hair sent shockwaves of awareness up and down the nerve endings of her spine.
Done with her mass of curly hair, Holly jumped from the shower and her double crossing showerhead, dried off quickly, and threw on her candy pink velour sweats and hoodie. Slippi
ng into comfortable, thick terry socks, she was determined not to spend her Sunday thinking about Nick’s mouth making love to hers, Nick’s tongue giving her the most intimate of kisses, or Nick’s fingers strumming her body like a well-played Fender guitar.
Holly was in the kitchen deciding between a pint of chocolate marshmallow ice cream goodness or an early yoga class when she heard her instant messaging program trill from her small office in the second bedroom. Closing the freezer, Holly walked to her office and opened her laptop to see who wanted to chat.
It was Sophie, of course.
Sophiegrrl: Are you there? You shouldn’t be. Should I try you at Nick’s?
XmasChick: Ha ha. Very funny. I’m right here.
Sophiegrrl: Why aren’t you with that hunk of man you went home with last night?
XmasChick: I didn’t go home with him exactly.
Sophiegrrl: What would you call it then?
XmasChick: Whatever. Anyway, I’m at my house because I’m not a cradle robber.
Sophiegrrl: Nick is sooo hot. Why are you dissing a great guy who obviously wants to get with you? DO NOT message me back. I’m coming over right now to knock some sense into you.
By the time Sophie arrived, Holly had made a large dent in the pint of ice cream. Sophie helped herself to a spoon, and joined Holly on the couch. Both rested their stocking feet on the low coffee table, the ice cream between them.
“So what’s the story? Did you sleep with him last night?”
Heat crept into Holly’s cheeks. “No,” she paused for a moment too long. “Not exactly. Why would you think that?”
“Holly, ’cause you’re my girl, I’m going to level with you. Nick has a thing for you. I mean he has it bad. Anybody looking at that man can see he’s gone all gaga over you. I may be wildly speculating here, but it’s my guess that when you left Drew, he realized how much he wanted to be with you. Last night, I’m sure he came to Asha’s party just because you were there. It’s not like he was talking to anyone else. How did you think he found you? That was me, helping with the hook-up.”