Six Month Rule (Kingston Ale House)

by A. J. Pine

  She nodded again.

  “Dinner. Tonight. My turn to choose the place.”

  Her lips were pressed together, but she was grinning. She liked the idea.

  “And after—theater. I’ll speak to the concierge at my hotel.”

  She bit her bottom lip. “Okay, but Will?”

  “Yeah?”

  She wiped away the smile for an exaggerated somber look.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Evans. Permission to speak, sir?”

  He rolled his eyes.

  “Look, this is all really sweet, and gentlemanly, and very chivalrous and all, and I’m very much looking forward to a proper date with you this evening. But I have to tell you one thing.”

  He licked his lips, suddenly parched.

  “Yes?”

  Holly sighed. “I’m a sure thing. Right here. Right now. I know you don’t want me to think you came here just to shag me, but good Lord, please tell me that you are going to shag me, because I so want to shag you.”

  His resistance crumbled, and he couldn’t help himself. He laughed.

  Holly exhaled and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him the rest of the way into her place so she could shut the door. He half expected her to push him up against a wall and start kissing him again, taking the speed train to Shagville. But instead she just stared at him, arms crossed.

  “You can be moody,” she said. “And rude.”

  “I’m sorry, what?” Will interrupted, but she put a finger to his lips.

  “And also funny, intelligent, and ridiculously handsome in both a three-piece suit and a T-shirt and jeans.”

  Okay, then. At least he wasn’t simply moody and rude.

  “And I’m quite fond of you, too, Will Evans. But we are on a ticking clock here.”

  Holly removed the small bag that was slung across her midsection and took a step back from him, placing it on a table against the wall.

  “And I don’t want to waste any part of our six months that could be used for activities other than quibbling over who is fond of whom or whether or not your intention was to shag me.”

  She took another step back and pulled her tank top over her head so she stood before him in just her jeans and a bra.

  If Will’s resistance had already crumbled, now it was blown to dust. If she took off her bra, he’d be powerless against her. Who was he kidding? He’d been in trouble since day one. Only now was he able to admit it.

  “Because intent doesn’t matter as long as right now, in this moment, we both want the same thing.”

  Holly leaned against the back of her sofa now, her fingers resting on the front clasp of her bra. And just like that, she flicked it open, and just as quickly let the straps drop to her elbows before she shook it to the floor. Her hair spilled over her shoulders, and Will’s gaze traveled to where the locks rested against her milky-white skin, then lower to where the flesh pinked around the hard peaks at the tips of her breasts.

  She blew the fringe out of her eyes, losing her footing for a second. Will stifled a laugh as she righted herself, taking comfort in the fact that maybe Holly wasn’t seasoned in the art of seduction, that perhaps this was all for him. Plus, she was adorably sexy when she was just being herself.

  He strode toward her, careful and deliberate, stopping when the tips of his shoes met hers, and he grinned at her small feet covered by Nike trainers. She’d worn practical shoes in case they’d gone walking, he supposed, and damn if that wasn’t adorable, too.

  “May I…?” he asked, his voice hoarse and expectant as he raised a palm toward one of her breasts.

  She half smiled while biting her lip, then nodded, and Will brought his hand to her skin. As he made contact, they each drew in a sharp breath.

  “God, Holly…”

  “Say it again,” she whispered, her hands clasping around his neck.

  “God, Holly?” he asked, teasing, because he knew what she meant, but he wanted her to say it one more time.

  She shook her head, grinning, and gently tugged his head toward hers.

  “I want you to ask permission in that sexy accent of yours.”

  He brought his lips to hers, not yet in a kiss, but close enough to feel her breath on his skin. One hand was still on her breast, and the other had found its way to her back. Will was barely hanging on, but he wanted to do this right, put someone else’s needs first, give her what she wanted.

  So he asked, “May I do this?”

  He kissed her, featherlight, and she spoke softly against him.

  “Yes.”

  His lips moved to her jaw and her neck, and all the while he spoke sweetly against her.

  “And this? May I kiss you here?”

  He felt her swallow as he peppered her skin with tiny kisses, and again he heard her voice, faint yet insistent.

  “Yes.”

  Her breast was still cupped in his hand, and he lightly pinched the hard peak while asking, “What about this, Holly? May I do this?”

  She gasped and rocked her hips against him, and he took that as a yes. God, it had been so long since he’d been with anyone like this, and the way she responded to him was enough to drive him mad. He knew this was dangerous ground, that he wasn’t just attracted to Holly physically. He should be logical here, weigh the pros and cons, but her hands had left his neck and found the button of his jeans, and that was it. Will finally put his overactive brain to rest. It was all instinct from here, because Holly Chandler responded to his impulses, and he to hers.

  “May I have the pleasure, Mr. Evans?” She undid the button. “Or can I call you Billy now?”

  Will scooped her into his arms and dropped her over the side of the sofa so she now lay on her back. Holly yelped with laughter as he stepped around to meet her, sitting on the edge of a cushion.

  “No to Billy,” he said. Then, “You first,” returning the favor, unbuttoning and unzipping her jeans. “If I may.”

  Holly responded by nodding and kicking off her trainers, so he slid the snug denim down over her legs, fingers skimming the flesh of her inner thigh as he did, and watched her stomach contract with each breath.

  And then she was there, in nothing but a pair of red lace knickers—damn Holly with the red shoes this morning and now this. She wasn’t the sure thing. He was, and she bloody well knew it.

  He slid his palms up her thighs, slow and controlled, even though he was coming undone with each inch of her skin she let him touch. He reached the place where thigh met hip, where his thumbs could sneak underneath the bottom hem of those drive-him-insane knickers, and he asked a final question.

  “I want to touch you everywhere, Holly. I want my hands all over your beautiful skin.” He watched her hands fist the material of the sofa cushion, and he knew what her answer was. But damn if he didn’t love how she loved those words.

  “May I?”

  He tugged at the material that would bare her to him completely, and she squirmed.

  “Yes.”

  Something in his gut lurched at the sweet insistence in her voice.

  Will shook his head and, with it, shook away the last of his logical thought. He would not let the past keep him from enjoying this moment, and he would not think ahead to what it would be like to have a woman like Holly and then give her up. So he closed his eyes for a moment, did a mental regroup, slid Holly Chandler’s knickers to her ankles, and then dropped them to the floor.

  “Blimey,” he said under his breath, and Holly relaxed, placing her hands behind her head.

  “Like what you see?” she asked, and he grinned at the echo of her first words to him in the lift. So much about today—seeing each other in the lift for the first time since Friday, the red shoes, her words—it all mirrored their first meeting two weeks ago, yet with a twist. It was a redo of sorts, if they’d met under different circumstances and entertained possibilities such as this.

  “Very much,” he answered. He liked everything about the way he saw things between them today, right here, in this moment. Will l
eaned down to kiss her stomach, then raised his head again, eyeing a line of three birthmarks on her hip. He traced his finger across the tiny dots.

  “Orion,” he said. “You’ve got Orion’s belt, haven’t you?”

  Holly’s eyes were closed as she spoke. “Uh-huh. It’s how I first learned about the stars.” Her voice was dreamy and far away. “When I was little and asked my mom why I had three spots where my sister had none, she told me it was my very own constellation. And when she showed me Orion’s belt in the sky, and so many other constellations over my head that told all these stories, I wanted to be a part of something like that.”

  “You wanted to be a star,” he said quietly, remembering what she’d told him, and she nodded.

  “It’s silly,” she said, opening her eyes to meet his. “Less talking? I’ve given you permission for just about everything. I just have one more request.”

  Will recognized a subject change when he heard one, so he let the star thing go. He wouldn’t tell her that he could already tell she burned brighter than anything in the sky. That would be too much for where they were headed. So he grinned and gave her his full attention.

  “What is your request?”

  “Lose the shirt.”

  He did as she asked and watched her take him in. It had been so long since he’d bared himself to someone like this, and he wondered how deep her eyes could see. Because it felt as though she saw through every barrier he could construct. But that wasn’t possible, was it? They were still practically strangers. So he let it go, choosing to stay in the moment. He could worry about the rest later.

  “Like what you see?” he teased, and she nodded. He nudged her over on the sofa so he could lie next to her, head propped on his hand, allowing him to watch her every reaction. Then Will took advantage of Holly’s full permission, sliding his hand between her legs and dipping a finger into her warmth. Her muscles clenched around him. He was so hard, aching for release, but he could exercise restraint. He wanted to watch her, pleasure her, let that sweet and agonizing ache build.

  Holly reached for his face, pulled him to her, and kissed him hard as he exited her in a long, slow stroke up her center, swirling his finger over her swollenness. Just as slowly he slid back down, adding a second finger this time, and she writhed against his hand, bucking into his palm.

  He thrust his tongue into her mouth, and she rode him harder, her legs falling open as far as they could with him lying next to her.

  His fingers pulsed inside her, and hell if he wasn’t about to come right with her just from watching her reactions.

  “God, Will, I don’t think—oh my God…”

  She couldn’t articulate the thought. He knew she was close, but he didn’t want her to finish just yet.

  He kissed her again, then slid off the sofa and to his knees as Holly squirmed. He sprinkled kisses down her shoulder, her breast, her torso, and then her hip. He gave his fingers a slow pump, and she gasped. Still inside her, he lifted his palm to give himself room, then flicked his tongue against her clit, and Holly cried out.

  Will worked her, inside and out, savoring the sweet tang of her in his mouth. He slid his fingers out and spread her legs wide, giving her one long, slow lick up the center, and she went mad.

  “Inside me, Will.” She grabbed his hair. “God, please, get inside me. I don’t want to do this alone.”

  He was ready to protest, tell her that today, for their first time, it was only about her. But that word, alone, it rocked him to his core. How well did he know that word? How much did he hate it, the loneliness of travel, of going home to an empty flat, of nothing more than weekend visits with his daughter?

  If Holly knew half the heartache of such solitude, he wouldn’t be the one to perpetuate it.

  “I don’t have a—”

  “In my purse,” she said between breaths. “There are condoms in my purse.”

  He wasted no time retrieving the foil packet, dropping his jeans and boxers to the floor, and rolling it down his length.

  “You’re beautiful,” she said as he stood before her, and he didn’t want her to say any more. No words to deepen the connection he already felt for this woman. Just their bodies.

  Together.

  Will lowered himself to the sofa, his knees at her hips. He didn’t need to say May I? again, and Holly didn’t have to say please. He nudged her open, and she welcomed him as he sank deep—all the way—and rocked inside her.

  “The thing is,” she said, her voice soft and her breath warm against his skin. “I don’t need a proper dinner or a trip to the theater.” She pulled him closer, deeper, and whispered, “If it’s all the same to you, we could just order in and not worry about putting our clothes back on so soon.”

  He’d wanted to do this right, whatever this was. And if that meant being with her like this for a while longer, he wasn’t going to protest.

  He closed his eyes and kissed her as the tension coiled in his gut. In another time, another place, if the circumstances were different, Will Evans would fall for a woman like this. Instead, as their bodies found a blissful rhythm, and as she came only seconds before him, he resigned himself to six months of happiness, six months of selfishness, six months of wanting something that was only for him.

  And then, when the new year arrived, he’d say good-bye.

  July

  Chapter Thirteen

  Gemini: Arguments abound today. Everyone has an opinion on Gemini’s decisions. Take heed of useful advice, but hold strong and resolute to what you believe, even if you find opposition coming at you from every angle.

  Holly dropped her phone next to her on the chair and pulled her hair into a ponytail. Even though the sun had set, sweat trickled down her neck.

  “The air’s on inside,” Brynn said, poking her head out from Jamie’s balcony door. Her balcony door. Holly still wasn’t used to this being her sister’s place.

  “I’m looking at the stars,” Holly told her.

  Brynn crossed her arms. “There is no way you can see anything but smoke right now. That was one hell of a fireworks display. If there are any stars out tonight, they’re going to be hidden for at least the next half hour.”

  “What’s up, Holls?” This time it was their friend Annie at the door, her boyfriend Brett’s arms wrapped around her waist as he stood behind her. She looked past them to where Jamie sat on a stool at his breakfast bar sipping a beer. Two plus two plus Holly.

  “She’s looking at the stars,” Brynn told Annie.

  “What stars?” Brett asked.

  Holly growled and pulled the door shut. Maybe she wanted to imagine where the stars were. They’d be out to keep her company soon enough. She leaned back in her chair but barely had enough time to relax when she heard the door slide open again. She didn’t bother looking, because she knew it was her sister.

  Brynn dropped into the chair next to her, and for a few long moments she said nothing, just sipped the bottle of beer that bore their name, Chandler’s Witbier.

  “You know,” Brynn said, “it’s kind of funny if you think about it.”

  Holly kept her eyes trained on the hazy sky above, knowing her stars were out there.

  “You’re going to make me ask what, aren’t you?”

  She could see Brynn nod in her peripheral vision.

  Holly sighed. “What?”

  Brynn grabbed her sister’s hand and squeezed.

  “You, moping during the celebration of your country’s independence because you’re pining for someone back in Mother England.” Brynn chuckled. “Like I said—funny.”

  Holly rolled her eyes and finally turned to face Brynn.

  “So what if I am? This is the fun part, B. The honeymoon phase. The part I actually like…and I’m missing it.”

  She wasn’t fooling herself, though. Or her sister. She was missing him.

  Holly missed Will.

  This wasn’t unusual. The beginning of a relationship was always the best—the time of butterflies in th
e belly and sex all the time. With Will, the butterflies were most certainly there, amplified by his weekends away, this one being the second. Last week he had taken the red-eye home and hadn’t even had enough time to go to the hotel before meeting Holly at the office with samples she needed from Ms. Chan. In order to hire the right models, Holly needed to see some of the show pieces in person to gauge the fit. Then she’d spent the week visiting various local agencies, recruiting her top choices and seeing how their fees would fit into the show’s budget. She and Will had worked tirelessly all week, cramming in as much as they could before the long holiday weekend, and they’d only seen each other twice outside the office.

  And now he was gone until Tuesday morning.

  Stupid butterflies.

  Stupid other happy couples surrounding her.

  And stupid, stupid holiday weekend.

  Cue toddler tantrum.

  “You ever think that maybe it’s different, the intensity of your emotions?” Brynn asked. “Knowing not only that it’s going to end but that poof, he’ll be gone?”

  Holly’s stomach tightened.

  “It might have occurred to me,” she said. “It just heightens the excitement, you know? Ticking clock—got to get it all in before the buzzer rings.”

  Brynn shook her head.

  “No, honey. I guess—I don’t know. What I meant was, do you think the whole situation might be making you…” Brynn hesitated.

  “Just say it,” Holly said.

  Brynn blew out a breath and squeezed her eyes shut. “Okay. I think the ticking clock scenario is heightening your emotions—making you feel things quicker and possibly deeper, and I don’t know. It’s early. Like, you’ve only known him a month, but I think maybe you could fall for this guy, and I don’t want to see you get hurt by your own devices.”

  Brynn peeked at her out of one eye, keeping the other one closed. When Holly didn’t jump down her throat, which was what she assumed her sister was waiting for, Brynn opened the other eye.

  Holly pulled her hand free and cupped her sister’s cheeks.

  “Are you done?”