Baby for Keeps

by Janice Maynard

  Cora quieted finally, lashes settling on rounded cheeks. Mia knew she should get up and take the baby, but she couldn’t seem to move....

  * * *

  Dylan cuddled Cora. Sweet, snuggly, pudgy Cora. She rested against his chest trustingly, a little streak of drool wetting his skin. He loved babies, always had. They smelled like home and happiness and love. An infant’s smile was the greatest promise that the world would go on, no matter how much the grown-ups mucked around with it. When he was sure she was out for the count, he laid her in the crib, crossing his fingers that she would stay asleep.

  When she didn’t stir after a full minute, he was fairly certain she was down for the night. Returning to the living room, he found Mia fast asleep, as well. She had tugged an afghan from the back of the sofa. All he could see of her was the top of her head. Smiling wryly, he bent and scooped her into his arms.

  If Cora reminded him of peace and security, Mia’s warm body had just the opposite effect. The weight of her in his arms gave him a jolt of excitement and possessive hunger. Holding her, he wanted to believe that it was possible to keep her here. Silver Glen was his home. If he tried hard enough, he could envision Mia returning to her roots as well.

  Although he had worked hard to create himself in the image of a carefree, never-serious party guy, he knew in his heart that the fabric of life was more than that. It was woven of simple pleasures like holding a quiet, complicated, soft-skinned woman in your arms and wondering what it would be like to kiss her.

  From happier days of his childhood, he remembered his family sitting around the table playing board games and laughing, always laughing. After Reggie’s death, much of the laughter had stopped. Perhaps that was why Dylan had tried so hard to be the life of the party. He remembered those good times and yearned to recreate them.

  Mia reminded him anew of what he was missing. She spoke to him at a visceral level, underscoring the value of things like hard work and loyalty and selfless giving. Seeing her with Cora made him want to be a better man.

  Mia’s room was semidark. She had left a light on in the bathroom with the door cracked, so Dylan was able to carry her easily without crashing into furniture. With one hand he straightened the tousled sheets and spread. The state of her bed told him more than words about her interrupted night.

  When he folded back the covers and laid her gently on the mattress, she stirred, her eyes opening slowly. “Cora?” She sat up on her elbows.

  Dylan smoothed the hair from her face. “She’s asleep. In her bed.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about. There’s no reason not to ask for help, Mia. As long as you’re here.”

  “I’m making you uncomfortable. Your family has questions. And you want to draw a line in the sand between business and personal. I’ll go as soon as I can find somewhere else to live.”

  Nothing she said was untrue. But it wasn’t the whole truth. “What makes me uncomfortable,” he said slowly, “is that I want you and I’m not sure if I should.”

  Nine

  He hadn’t meant to be quite so honest.

  Mia’s nose wrinkled. “Ouch. Am I that much of a liability?” Though she said it jokingly, he fancied that in her eyes he saw vulnerability and hurt. But that might have been a trick of light and shadow.

  He sat down beside her on the bed. “You don’t belong in Silver Glen, Mia.” The truth might hurt, but it was better that they each acknowledge the reality of their situation. “Your intellectual gifts can make a difference in the world. For now, you’ve had a hiccup. You need time to regroup. That’s understandable. And I’m happy I can help. I owe you that. But we can’t forget that your stay here is temporary. I’ve already had one relationship with a woman who was just passing through. It was a messy, public breakup. No one gets privacy in a small town. I’d rather not repeat the experience.”

  “That’s quite a speech. Would you care to cut to the bottom line and tell me what the heck you’re saying?”

  “I’m saying that I want you.”

  He stroked her arm as he said the words, completely aware that Mia was unlike anyone he had cared about before. Beneath the very real sexual hunger he felt for her was a vein of something he couldn’t pin down...tenderness maybe, but more than that. She was a part of his past, a very significant part. She had helped shape him into the man he had become.

  After his blunt statement, she sat straight up, crossing her legs pretzel style and staring at him. “You may be disappointed. I’m not very good at it. Sex, I mean.”

  Humor slipped in unannounced, lightening the mood. “In this particular situation, I think it’s safe to assume that I won’t have any complaints. Not that I’m bragging, but you probably were with the wrong men before.”

  “Man. Only one.”

  “Ah, yes. The professor. I may not have his brains, but I’ve researched the hell out of this particular topic.” Perhaps he shouldn’t have alluded to other women, even obliquely. Mia was acquainted with his past exploits, but she flinched when he mentioned them.

  “Are you sure, Dylan?”

  Again that heartbreaking vulnerability. “We were friends once. I hope we still are. But the connection I feel to you, to the grown-up Mia, is brand-new. I’d like to see where it goes.”

  Only a prospective lover with Mia’s IQ could induce Dylan to use such an academic approach to sex. Ordinarily, a couple of drinks, soft lighting and a willing woman took care of any negotiations in that arena. But for whatever reason, it seemed important to him that she knew he had thought about this. That he wasn’t being ruled by his baser instincts.

  On the other hand, his carefully worded analysis of the spark between them didn’t seem to be making her very happy. Hell, why was he second-guessing everything?

  Carefully, giving her one last moment to change her mind, he slid both hands beneath her sleep-ruffled hair and cupped her neck. His head lowered. Women normally closed their eyes at this point. Mia didn’t. She watched him with fascination in her dark-eyed gaze.

  He hesitated. “You make me a little nuts,” he confessed.

  “Why?” This close he could see how thick her lashes were.

  “I sometimes feel like you’re studying me.”

  “Why on earth would I do that?” Sexual anticipation was replaced by frustration on her face and in her voice.

  “You’re the only genius I’ve ever met. I don’t know what goes on inside your head.” Why he was baring his soul like this, he hadn’t a clue. But it obviously was the wrong tack to take with Mia.

  Her chin wobbled. “I’m no different than any other woman, Dylan. Same body parts, same emotions, same wants and needs. I hate it when you say things like that.”

  “I’m sorry.” And he was.

  “Forget all that other stuff. Pretend you picked me up at a bar. Not the Silver Dollar. Someplace else. We met and flirted and all we could think about was jumping each other’s bones.”

  In that moment, he understood what she wanted. Mia needed to feel like an ordinary woman. She wasn’t ordinary. Far from it. But he was hurting her by hiding the depth of his hunger, when all he had ever wanted to do was protect her.

  Deliberately, he reached for the hem of her tank top and peeled it upward, forcing her to raise her arms as he lifted it over her head. His sharp, audible intake of breath was loud in the hushed silence of her room. “God, you’re beautiful,” he muttered. White-skinned and pleasingly curved, she was a sculptor’s dream. But unlike marble, she was real and soft and warm. Locking his gaze with hers, he cupped her breasts with his hands, testing their weight and fullness.

  This time Mia closed her eyes.

  He took that as a positive sign. Suddenly, he felt like a kid in a candy shop, not sure what he wanted first. A linear approach seemed feasible. He started with her delic
ate eyelids, drifted down her perfect nose, and settled his lips over hers. The contact rocked him on his ass. Nuclear fission couldn’t have been any hotter.

  Even as his hands kneaded her flesh and teased her nipples, his mouth ravaged hers. Tongues tangling. Breath laboring. She was as eager as he was, her slim arms going around his neck and tightening as he deepened the kiss. It wasn’t what he expected at all.

  He had thought Mia might be tentative or clumsy or awkward. Instead, he—Dylan—felt completely out of his depth. She was intensely female despite the fact that she did little to enhance her looks with the usual feminine paints and potions. He had barely touched her, and already he was hard enough to make his position on the bed uncomfortable.

  “Mia?” he asked hoarsely, not really sure what he wanted her to say or do.

  “Take off your clothes, Dylan. Come to bed with me.”

  * * *

  Mia couldn’t believe it was really happening. All the fantasies about Dylan she had entertained over the years were pale imitations of the real thing. His skin was hot beneath her touch, though the room was plenty cool. The muscles that rippled in his arms and torso were strong and defined. She stroked him with giddy delight. He was hers. Maybe only for tonight. But he was hers.

  Her confidence wavered when she saw him fully nude. Standing beside the bed, arms crossed, shoulders squared, he projected determination and an unmistakable intent to have his way. His erection bobbed high and strong against his flat, corded abdomen.

  She swallowed against the sudden lump in her throat. “You’re a very striking man,” she said quietly.

  He tugged her toward the edge of the bed and dragged her sleep pants down her legs, along with her undies. She was a grown woman. Not without experience. But allowing Dylan to look his fill of her naked body required a surprising amount of courage. Her belly was no longer as flat as it once was, and she had a couple of stretch marks.

  In her imagination, this was the moment when he joined her beneath the covers. The reassuringly covering covers. But he took her off guard again. Gently, he took both of her hands in his, gripped them, and pulled her to her feet. She was not a noticeably short woman. But toe-to-toe with Dylan she felt small and defenseless.

  His devilish grin warmed the cold places in her body. “Touch me, Mia. Please.”

  It reassured her to realize that his need was every bit as great as hers. She went up on tiptoe and kissed his mouth, lingering to slide her tongue between his teeth, relishing the response that quaked through his frame. Against her belly, his eager flesh twitched. She clasped him in one hand, squeezing gently. His clenched jaw and damp forehead revealed the extent of her power. Power she had never claimed before.

  Tilting back her head, she searched his gaze. “Is that what you meant?”

  “Damn, woman. I thought you said you weren’t good at this.”

  She rested her cheek against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart. When her arms clasped his waist and his circled hers, she felt as if something precious had been born. “These are just the preliminaries,” she whispered. “Don’t get too excited, Dylan. I may not measure up in the main event.”

  She’d spent most of her life being judged on her abilities. Here, now, on the verge of having sex with the man of her dreams, it had never mattered more that she did and said the right things. It would be crushing if Dylan found her naiveté boring or, even worse, amusing.

  But he totally disarmed her by laughing. “Good Lord, Mia. It isn’t an exam. And besides, I’m supposed to be the one pleasing you tonight, not the other way around. You’ll get your turn. Relax, sweetheart.”

  He scooped her into his arms and sprawled on the bed with her, his big, hairy legs tangling with her smaller, paler ones. Though he kept most of his weight on his hands, she shivered at the delicious feel of his tough, honed body pressing hers into the mattress. Such a primitive response. But entirely inescapable.

  Scraping her thumbnail along his chin, she smiled. “I like you all rough and scraggly.”

  Nuzzling her neck, he chuckled. “You may sing another tune when you wake up in the morning wearing my marks. If I’d known this was a possibility, I’d have shaved for you.”

  She cocked her head, staring up at him. “Do things usually start off this slowly? Not that I’m complaining.”

  “Well, Miss Impatient, do you have condoms?”

  “Um, no...” She flushed from her throat to her hairline. Just when she thought she was giving a great performance as a woman of the world having casual sex with a hot, hungry guy, she betrayed her true colors.

  Though a pained look crossed his face, he spoke gently. “I’ll go get some.” Climbing off the bed, he towered over her. “You won’t change your mind?”

  She pulled the sheet over her nudity, not quite as nonchalant as she hoped to be in this situation. “I won’t change my mind.”

  Dylan must have dabbled in time travel, because he made it to his bedroom and back to hers in a nanosecond. After dropping a handful of packets on the bedside table, he held one out to her. “You want to do the honors?”

  “No. Thank you.” To be honest, she wasn’t at all sure that little piece of latex was going to fit over and around Dylan’s aroused shaft.

  Nevertheless, he rolled it on with an economy of motion she admired and then climbed back in bed. “Move over, woman.”

  “Your feet are freezing,” she exclaimed.

  “Then warm me up.”

  After that, any conversation gave way to sheer physical sensation. Despite his chilled feet, the rest of Dylan’s body radiated heat. He settled between her thighs with a groan that sounded as if he had waited a hundred years to find that exact spot. She wrapped her legs around his waist, lifting her hips to urge him on.

  And yet still, he didn’t join their bodies. His erection, hot and firm, rubbed lazily against the cleft between her legs. Zings of sensation flooded her pelvis with restless pleasure. She had known that sex with Dylan would be incredible. Sheer physical delight. What she hadn’t expected was the rush of emotion. Tears stung her eyes, though she wouldn’t let them fall for fear he would misunderstand.

  He was so dear, so special, so deserving of a woman’s love. It was incomprehensible to her that his fiancée had walked away from him. Perhaps one day the woman would realize what she had lost. Or perhaps she and Dylan were never really right for each other at all.

  The girl Mia had been in high school still lived somewhere deep inside the adult Mia. That shy, backward teenager who had adored the angry, sullen Dylan now wanted the stronger, happier Dylan with equal measure. He’d thrown up barriers between them already. Telling her she didn’t belong. Making his learning challenges and her intellectual capabilities some kind of überforbidden matchup.

  They weren’t the Montagues and Capulets.

  When he braced himself on one hand and stroked his fingers over her lower lip, she tasted him involuntarily, her tongue wetting the pad of his thumb. He shuddered. She bit the same spot with a sharp nip.

  Clearly Dylan had himself on a tight leash. She was well aware that he was holding back. But she didn’t want his gentleness, at least not right now. Hunger rose like an irrepressible tide, making her reckless.

  “I won’t break,” she muttered. “I want you in me, over me, on me.”

  His pupils expanded as hot color flushed his cheekbones. He dropped his forehead to hers. “You’ve got it, Mia.” The words were guttural, a hoarse accompaniment to the forceful thrust of his hips that buried him deep inside her.

  She was fairly certain they both gasped in unison, but with the sound of her heartbeat loud in her ears, she couldn’t be sure.

  Mia had the ability to convert complicated numerical equations into their metric equivalents without using a calculator. Her papers had been published in academic journals and had ev
en been presented at international conferences. Abstract ideas and three-dimensional thinking were her bread and butter.

  But what she couldn’t fathom was how one man, this one man, could reduce her from a practical, down-to-earth scientist and mom to a shivering mass of nerves and need. She swallowed hard and tried to force words from a dry throat. “That’s more like it.”

  Dylan nibbled her collarbone, his lower body momentarily still. His pause gave her a chance to absorb the effects of his possession. Pleasantly stretched and undeniably filled, her sex welcomed him enthusiastically, little muscle flutters massaging his length.

  The hair on his chest tickled her breasts. She liked the sensation. Their coupling had an earthy, elemental rightness to it that she and the professor had never quite attained. This breathless moment seemed preordained, as if long ago, Dylan and Mia’s teenage friendship prepared the ground for what was to come.

  He moved his hips without warning, gaining another half inch of penetration. “You’re tight,” he groaned. “I don’t want this to end.”

  “You’ve barely started yet,” she pointed out, a little miffed that her charms weren’t sufficient enough to drive him insane with lust.

  Dylan didn’t answer with words. Instead, he began moving slowly, drawing a tremulous cry from her parched throat. Beneath her, his expensive sheets were cool and smooth against her heated flesh. Above her, his big, hard body enveloped her in a stimulating mélange of sight and sound and touch. The room smelled of warm skin and hot sex.

  “Open your mouth, baby.”

  When she obeyed, the thrust of his tongue mimicked the movements of his hips. The dual possession melted her, incinerated her. Feverish and desperate, she raked his shoulders with her fingernails, barely conscious that she did so. “Please,” she whispered. “Please.”

  Impossible pleasure beckoned, her orgasm building with the heat of a thousand suns, barely contained. Dylan took her again and again, his movements bold, giving no quarter. She would be sore tomorrow. That fleeting thought escaped from some last coherent corner of her brain.