Where There's Smoke (Holiday Hearts #1)

by Kristin Hardy

  Gaze locked on hers, he reached out to touch her with his fingertip. Heat burst through her. Every fiber of her being focused on that burning spot. Then he slid his finger down, over her shoulder, into the dip above her collar bone, along the slight rise of her breast to the sensitive tip. She caught her breath there but he didn’t linger, moving down the smooth flat of her belly to the point where the black silk blocked his way. He edged his finger under it until she moaned and moved against him.

  His teeth gleamed. “Black lace, Sloane? I like that.” And then he hooked his fingers in the sides and dragged it down her legs, tossing it aside. “I like it even better off.”

  He eased onto the bed beside her to press his body against her and she had to moan again because it had been so long and it felt so, so good. And because she knew there was more.

  With a kind of delirious joy Nick ran his tongue down the slender column of her throat and then lower, to where her breasts began with their fragile skin and their exquisite sensitivity. Sloane moved against him but he took his time, sampling, tasting every inch until his lips were against the stiffened flesh of her nipples. He ran his tongue over each hardened nub in turn, feeling her body quake, hearing her shocked gasp as he bit gently.

  The quick whisk of pain made the arousal more intense and she felt the tightness coiling in her body, at the apex of her legs where all sensation met. Each squeeze of her nipples had her catching her breath and arching toward him. It had never been like this for her. Never had she moved without volition, moaned without thought, ached to be filled. Her body, which she’d thought she’d known intimately, was his entirely and he was showing her just how much control he had.

  He did things, bewitching things with his hands, stroking the dip of her sides, the long muscles of her thighs, coming closer to where she yearned, burned to be touched. He didn’t, though, just kept stretching it out, tempting her until she couldn’t hold back. The feel of his muscles under her fingers, the groans of his own arousal as she trailed her fingertips down his belly made her giddy with desire.

  It wasn’t enough to make love, Nick thought feverishly. The need inside him was a grinding ache. He didn’t just want her to submit, he wanted her twisting against him in abandon. He wanted to take her to where no other man had brought her, a place where she couldn’t regret, she couldn’t second-guess, she couldn’t hold back.

  A place where she was his.

  He stroked his hand up the inside of her thigh and she quivered against him. When he brought just two fingertips higher, he could feel the goose bumps on her skin. And then he went higher still, to find her already slick and hot.

  It nearly undid him to know that she was so aroused. It took him even closer to hear her helpless moan, to feel her hips move against his hand. He wanted more, though, much more before he was going to let himself go. And when he went, they were going to go together.

  He moved down between her legs, then, teasing her with his tongue, first the flat of her belly, then the long lines of her inner thighs. Even here, she was exquisitely sensitive. He traveled lower to press a kiss on the fragile skin, to her mons and felt her twist feverishly against him.

  “Please, Nick, please.” She couldn’t bear any more, Sloane thought as he took her to a higher pitch of excitement. The heat of his tongue slid down lower. His breath was warm on her skin, dragging a moan from her. And then his mouth was pressed against her there, finally, and all the waiting and arousal and temptation coalesced into that one shivering point.

  Sloane flung her head back against the pillow in shock, trying to force air into her lungs. He drove her relentlessly, with pressure and liquid strokes, curving his hands around her thighs to pull her to him. She clutched at his shoulders, felt his hair beneath her fingers. Never, she’d never experienced anything like this, hadn’t known it was possible for her body to be electrified, half-mad, shuddering with arousal. She was strung wire tight, everything in her drawing down to that one point under the heat of his mouth, the tension rising, drawing in, contracting until it exploded outward, rushing through her to the tips of her fingers, sending her writhing against him for endless minutes until she finally crested and drifted down.

  But his hands were already driving her up again. This time, the path was known and she raced up it, straining at his touch, knowing she wanted more. “I need you in me,” she whispered, dragging at his shoulders.

  He moved up until she could reach down to find him shuddering and hard against her fingers. When she would have moved her hand, he stilled it, sliding his body over hers, his breath uneven, his face taut with the battle for control. She felt the velvety soft tip of him brush the entrance where she was already slick and ready. “Look at me,” he murmured. “Look at me when I go inside you.”

  And with a thrust of his hips he buried himself in her.

  It ripped a cry from her. He filled her utterly, pressed in to the hilt. For that moment, there were no evasions, there was no escape. And when he began to move, his back muscles flexing under her fingers, it was as though they were one being, the sensations that started in his body ending in hers.

  Each stroke, each slick caress brought her to a new pitch of pleasure. If she’d thought she’d experienced what he had to offer before, she’d been mistaken. It was incomplete, gratification without substance. Now, with his body intimately connected with hers, everything tied together.

  Deep inside her slick heat, Nick fought to hold on, to prolong the feeling. Sloane twisted beneath him like a wanton. Eyes fevered with excitement, silken legs wrapped around him, she cried out each time he drove himself into her. It dragged him to the edge, knowing he could bring her to this, knowing that at this moment she was utterly abandoned to it, to him.

  To what they made together.

  She stared at him, her eyes widening in sudden shock and then she was jolting under him, clenching around him, crying out her pleasure as the orgasm broke through.

  And it was that, finally, that tore away his control so that he surged once, twice and spilled himself.

  They lay motionless, still intimately twined together as their hearts gradually slowed. Nick kissed Sloane’s shoulder, utterly overwhelmed. If he told her he’d never experienced anything like it would she believe him? Would she understand? She’d given herself to him, maybe with reservations at first, but wholly and completely by the end.

  How was it he only wanted more?

  Sloane made a move to pull up the sheet and he stilled her hand. “Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”

  She flushed. “Covering up.”

  “Don’t. I like looking at you. When I see you in clothes again, it’ll give me something to tide me over until the next time.”

  “The next time?”

  He stroked a hand down her waist. “Yeah, the next time. I’m planning on a lot of them.”

  She did twist loose then to sit on the edge of the bed. “Nick, just because this happened doesn’t mean…”

  “Doesn’t mean what?”

  “It doesn’t mean we’re having an affair.”

  “You don’t strike me as the one-night-stand type, Sloane.”

  “Yes, well—”

  She yelped in surprise as he snaked out an arm and tumbled her back against him.

  “So I guess we’ve got to be something,” he said, gathering her to him.

  She rolled on top of him, leaning on his chest. “I don’t like somethings. Somethings make me nervous.”

  “Then don’t think about it.”

  “We have to think about it,” she protested. “We can’t just barge into something—”

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “There you go, worrying about somethings again. How about this—let’s try it out, see where it goes. Maybe you can have some fun for a change, God forbid. There is life outside of work, you know.”

  “The project is important to me.”

  “I know. And I also know you’ll do a better job at it if you give yourself a break once in a while.”
He stroked her back, enjoying the feel of the firm rise of muscle below. “You know, laugh a little, maybe see a movie or actually get out of Boston.”

  Sloane sighed. “You understand, Nick, I can’t let this become too much. You can call it whatever you want—”

  “Or not.”

  “Or not,” she agreed. “But it has to stay contained.”

  It was the classic guys’ dream—sex with a beautiful woman, no commitment. So why did it bug him? “Limits, Sloane?”

  Vulnerability flickered in her eyes. “Only one. No promises. Let’s enjoy what’s here right now. Okay?”

  It wasn’t okay. It was very far from okay, just how far, he was tempted to tell her. But he knew already that it would take very little to make her take flight. It was still too soon. He’d known there was passion in her, had glimpsed it briefly, but nothing had prepared him for the fire, the generosity, the wantonness of her lovemaking.

  And he had no intention of letting her walk away. He’d go along with her conditions. For now.

  Nick kissed her lightly. “All right.”

  Sloane let out a sigh of relief, then she sighed again, in reaction. “Mmm, what are you doing?”

  “Well, if this is only going to be a brief, meaningless non-something, we’d better get the most we can out of it, hadn’t we?”

  “You might be right,” she said, pressing herself against him.

  “Bet on it.”

  Chapter Ten

  Nick sat at his kitchen table reading a Globe article on the latest Big Dig fiasco and savoring the morning quiet. Some people liked day shifts. He’d take a night tour anytime. So he got dragged out of bed a few times. Having a nice leisurely start to the day more than made up for it.

  It would have been better if he’d been sharing coffee and orange juice with Sloane, but so far he hadn’t been able to convince her to spend the night. It was early days, he reminded himself and tried to find patience.

  His cell phone burbled. He checked the display and flipped open the phone with a grin. “Whadda you want?”

  “Get up on the wrong side of the bed again today?” Gabe asked. “You’d never survive in the hospitality industry, bud.”

  “Who said I wanted to?” Nick asked.

  “I figured you’d be tired of getting cats out of trees and vacuuming the firehouse floor.”

  “You’re the vacuuming guy, with that antique you run.”

  “That national historic landmark, you mean.”

  “You hoteliers are so touchy.” Nick went to the refrigerator to pull out the carton of orange juice.

  “All I gotta say is don’t expect the family discount next time you want to bring a woman up here to impress her,” Gabe told him. “Not that any woman would be misguided enough to get involved with you, of course.”

  Nick picked up his orange juice glass. “Did you call to talk about my personal life?

  “Not after I’ve just eaten. Actually, I just called to see what’s happening over the holiday. You going to be up?”

  “Not this year. I’m scheduled for a night shift on Thanksgiving.”

  “Yeah, I heard that.”

  He could just imagine. “Let me guess. You’ve been talking to Jacob. Did he tell you to give me a lecture, too?”

  “There are other ways to deal with you. Did I tell you I’ve taken up tae kwon do?”

  Nick grinned. “You think that will help?”

  “Just keep it in mind. You’re only a couple of hours away, you know,” Gabe said mildly.

  “Three.”

  “That’s in range. Close enough for me to come down and kick your ass.”

  “On your day off, you mean?”

  “On a workday, if it’s important enough.” Gabe’s voice sounded amused.

  “If I keep one arm tied behind my back, maybe.” The grin on Nick’s face faded. “So why are you doing Jacob’s errands, Gabe?”

  “I’m not. I was over at the farm for dinner last night and Thanksgiving came up.”

  “Gee, now there’s a surprise.” Nick leaned back in his chair. “What did Jacob have to say? Or do I have to ask?”

  There was a pause. “Actually, it wasn’t Jacob, it was Ma.”

  Nick blinked. “No kidding. What did she say?”

  “It wasn’t what she said.”

  “Are you trying to learn mind reading in your tae kwon do?”

  “No,” Gabe said quietly. “I’m just trying to make my mother stop hurting so much. Look, Nick, you got problems with Jacob, take them out on him, okay? Not Ma.”

  Gabe always had known how to deliver an effective sucker punch, Nick reflected. Especially when he was right. “Gabe, I’ve been through this with Jacob already. Even if I leave as soon as shift ends the day before Thanksgiving, I won’t hit the farm until nine or ten at night. And I’d have to peel out by noon the day of to make it back in time for start of shift. There’s no way to make it work. I’d hardly be there before I’d have to go.”

  “You’ve done it other years. Work isn’t the reason you don’t want to come.”

  “Really? What is the reason, Great Swami?”

  “I don’t know. I’d like to think you’ve got some babe that you can’t tear yourself away from. Of course, you and Jacob always seem pissed off at each other these days, so it could be that you just don’t want to deal with him.” Gabe paused. “Or it could be that you don’t want to come up because it’ll make you miss Dad too much and feel guilty that you’re never around.”

  Jacob bludgeoned and was no match for Nick’s stubbornness. Quick, clever Gabe whipped in quickly to poke weak spots Nick didn’t know he had.

  The silence stretched out.

  “Nick, you there?”

  “Yeah.” He shifted. “I’m here.”

  “Look, I’m not trying to play pop psychologist and I’m not playing Jacob’s errand boy. I just thought you should know that it matters to Ma, even if she wouldn’t tell you so. It’s your call, bro. She’s not going to blame you for not coming. She’ll understand. But it might make it a little easier for her to get through the day with you there. Jacob and I are always around. You being there will make it special.” He cleared his throat. “For her, anyway.”

  Nick blew out a breath and accepted the inevitable. “All right. I’ve taken a couple of shifts lately for a guy. I’ll see if I can call in the favor, get the night off. Maybe even a couple of days.”

  “Don’t go overboard,” Gabe said. “There’s only so much of you we can take.”

  “Hey, Gabe?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Practice that tae kwon do,” Nick suggested. “Practice hard.”

  Half an hour later he hung up from his mother, the warm pleasure in her voice still resonating in his ears. Gabe had been right. Bitter as it was to admit, Jacob had been right. It was too easy, sometimes, far away from the farm, to forget what it had to be like for her to live with the daily reminders.

  To go to sleep at night in an empty bed.

  In the months after Adam Trask had died, family duty had whispered to Nick that he should take a leave of absence, return to the farm to help out. Yet that meant days under Jacob’s thumb and nagging concern about the guys at the firehouse. Responsibility—loyalty—pulled him in two directions at once. The only easy answer was avoidance. Maybe Sloane wasn’t the only one who hid behind a job.

  Sloane… He’d held her less than eight hours before. He’d see her in another eight.

  It seemed unimaginably distant. Tapping the phone, he punched the speed dial for her number and listened to it ring.

  Sloane sat in her office typing an e-mail to the production manager for the Orienteer project. She clicked Send just as a calendar reminder flashed up on the screen. Pete’s birthday Saturday, buy present.

  The party, she remembered. There was a time when she wouldn’t have missed it. Not now, though. Because of work, she told herself and tried to ignore the fact that it felt like an excuse. A gift, though—she wanted to get him some
thing he’d like, something to let him know she was thinking of him.

  The phone rang and she picked it up absently. “Sloane Hillyard.”

  “A fine thing, as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Nick.” It felt good to hear his voice, dangerously good. “How are you?”

  “Not nearly as good as I’d be if you were around. How are you?”

  “I’m fine. Trying to get some work done.” Of course, she’d have had more success if she hadn’t repeatedly found herself staring into space and thinking of him. Not good, she told herself. It was supposed to be a simple fling. It wasn’t supposed to get in the way of what was important. It wasn’t supposed to be important.

  “So what are you doing at work? Don’t forget, my crew’s on night shift tonight.”

  She opened her Web browser and began searching for gift ideas. “Business doesn’t just shut down because I’m not here. I’ve missed two days this week while I was at the firehouse.”

  “But you’ve always got your laptop on.”

  “That’s just to keep my head above water.”

  “A very fetching head, by the way.”

  She couldn’t help the smile. “My, what a smooth talker.”

  “Aren’t I, though? So, you have lunch plans? I thought I could come by and take you out. I don’t have to be at the firehouse until five.”

  The little buzz of pleasure hit before she could block it. Keep it contained, Hillyard. “I can’t make lunch.”

  “Meeting?”

  “I’ve got to run an errand. My nephew’s birthday is tomorrow and I completely forgot about it. I’ve got to go get him something and stick it in overnight delivery.”

  “Where does he live?”

  “Hartford.”

  “It’s not that far. You could drive it down.”

  No, she couldn’t. Sloane hesitated. “It’s complicated.”

  “Your brother’s son?”