by Karen Anders
Dylan smiled and shook his head. The silence stretched between them. Dylan finally spoke, interrupting the frantic thoughts that were whirling in her head. “Your idea for Green Dog shot sparks off my people. We put together a preliminary pitch and landed the account.”
“That’s great. Really, Dylan. That’s wonderful.”
“I thought you might like to join in the celebration. We’re having a party on Saturday, and I would like you to come.”
“Maybe we can finish the last fantasy on Saturday and celebrate my imminent promotion to feature writer before we go our separate ways. The magazine’s readership has jumped since I took over the column.” She had to end it after the last fantasy was complete. Sarah, the regular column writer, would be back next week, and Haley had no need for Dylan’s “services” anymore. He’d be free to explore his relationship with any woman who caught his fancy. Haley would be out of the picture.
“Good. You do have something…tasteful.”
“Something tasteful? What is that supposed to mean?” She put her pizza down on the plate, her stomach drawing into knots.
He didn’t say anything for a moment, and then he spoke, his tone low and vehement. “Nothing. It seems to me that you’ve probably never been to this type of party.”
There was a long strained silence. Her breath jammed in her throat. “You said image was more important to you, Dylan. I guess you were telling the truth.”
“Why are you reading more into it than there is?”
“Why are you getting all defensive?”
“I’m not the one getting defensive.”
Haley immediately thought of Westin. “Is this Westin talking?” Meanwhile, Dylan didn’t say anything, but she could see the truth on his face. “He did. Didn’t he?”
“Westin made an offhand comment, yes.”
“Then why would you invite me?”
“Haley, Green Dog was your idea. How can I not invite you?”
“Dylan. I don’t need to be approved by some hoity-toity people to make myself feel better.”
He grabbed her arm when she went to turn away.
“Good for you, Haley. I’m saying it all wrong and that was a hypothetical situation when we discussed image at the cabin and doesn’t apply to us. I want you there. It’s as simple as that. That is, if you want to come.”
“I can see why you’re asking me, but it doesn’t have to be a date. We just have the sex between us.”
He stared at her, a somber expression in his eyes. There was a strained pause; then he spoke, his voice gruff. “I need a date. Why not you?”
She nodded and put down the bottle of soda with trembling hands. “Okay. Let me think about it. It’s no big deal, right?” She had no idea this would hurt so much. He really did care more about image than about her.
“Right. It’s your call. Whatever you decide is fine.”
She touched his arm and said, “I really appreciate the offer.”
He nodded and said, “We better get to work. It’s getting late.” He closed the pizza box and wiped his hands on a napkin. They both turned from the counter at the exact time and bumped into one another. Instantaneous heat flared like a glittering blaze, infusing her body with crushing desire. His unexpected movement sent her off balance and her hands clutched at his shoulders to steady herself as his hands automatically came around her slender waist.
“Damn,” Dylan breathed, their faces inches apart. She could feel the hot core of her womanhood pressing into him. The desire in his eyes was almost tangible and her eyes widened. Her belly twisted with the same stunning need she’d experienced as she watched his sleek, glistening body move over her before.
With slow increments of seductive motion, his mouth moved down to hers and, very gently, he brushed his lips against hers. Haley felt the brief contact throughout her whole thrumming body. In reaction, her fingers dug into his steely shoulder muscles as breathtaking need rocked though her.
The brief contact of his mouth was not enough, was not barely enough. She wanted more, so much more. Dylan seemed just as affected. He pressed his mouth more firmly to her soft yielding lips. He brought her closer, his arms cradling her body gently.
She felt his stomach muscles tighten as he leaned back to press her to him. She groaned softly, a soft purr in the back of her throat. She could not stifle it. He was slowly drawing her beyond herself as if he was bringing her into him, into all the intense, fiery heat.
He deepened the kiss with a sigh of pure lust. His mouth undulated over hers with deliberate and intense movement, capturing her entirely. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t think, she could only feel, with shivering sensation, the astonishing softness of his mouth, the hard contours of his shoulders, the thick hot result of his kiss pushing insistently against her stomach.
Tentatively, she raised her hands into his thick, dark hair. The strands were soft. She felt him quiver as her fingers stroked the nape of his neck.
But he unexpectedly shifted and tried to move away. With every muscle in his body vibrating, and his strong hands still around her waist, he set her apart from him. She could feel his tenseness.
Haley was unable to let him go. She leaned forward. Pressing herself against him, she could feel his heart hammering against the side of her face.
“Haley?” His voice was gravelly with desire.
She reluctantly stepped back, beginning to turn away as Dylan’s hand clamped around her upper arm.
“We understand each other, don’t we?” Haley said softly.
He looked away, his jaw clenched. “About a future between us?”
“We can remain friends.”
“Of course, no reason not to.”
“Dylan. This was about sex, about the column. It was from the beginning. It is now. You didn’t figure prominently in my plans. So don’t sweat it.” There was no need to go into detail. Please, she pleaded silently. Don’t go into detail.
She met his eyes head-on. It gave her gratification that there was regret there.
“Knowing that it’s the best course of action doesn’t make this go away, though,” he said thickly, gently.
“It was mutual wanton sex, Dylan. A means to an end. A business proposition. I got what I wanted from Kate. She’s reviewing my articles. She told me this week that readership is up and she believes that it’s due to my column. I’ve made great strides at SPICE. It’s what I wanted.”
So why was her heart breaking? Why did she feel this need to tell him how he made her feel? No man would ever make her feel the way Dylan did. No man would ever make her reckless. Perhaps she’d gotten what she wanted, but at what price to her heart?
“Good. I’m glad.” He looked away.
“Look, Dylan. If you came over here to make sure we had this talk about a future relationship, that’s fine. I don’t expect you to help me paint.”
“I’ll help you, Haley.”
“Fine. Let’s get to work.”
As they worked steadily, Dylan watched Haley as she painted the trim. She seemed so unaffected, so calm and serene, as if the sex hadn’t meant anything. But he’d seen the truth in her eyes no matter how hard she tried to act casual. It did bother her and it may be true that he didn’t have to take any drastic action, but he wanted to make sure that Haley wanted nothing more to do with him.
These moments with Haley felt real, solid, something he could hang on to for the rest of his life, but at what price to her?
It would be better if she found someone else and settled down with him. He bit down on the jealousy that rose unbidden from some shadowed, dank well inside him. A black, dark jealousy that made him want to put a fist through her freshly painted wall. Imagining anyone else touching Haley made Dylan crazy.
They finished close to eleven o’clock. Haley leaned back and rubbed at her lower back, then her neck. She turned to him, a paint smudge on her nose, fatigue in her eyes.
“Go ahead and clean up. I’ll take care of the brushes and the roller. I can l
et myself out.”
She looked at him silently. He could feel the air crackle between them. Would that ever go away? Ten years from now if he were to meet her on the street would that same sizzle be there? Would he hate himself for giving her up?
She nodded then and left the room. Dylan busied himself with closing the paint can that was still half-full, cleaning the brushes and leaving them to dry on paper towels on the counter.
He even picked up his jacket as if he really was going to leave. He even headed for the door. But he stopped and clenched his fists, fought the pull of her. Then he heard the soft music from her room. He turned and walked to the door. Unable to help himself, he turned the handle.
Haley stood there, her eyes filled with a wrenching vulnerability that made his chest burn for the way he had treated her. Denying his needs and wants was definitely the easy part. Hurting Haley wasn’t something he wanted to do, but he didn’t see any way around it. She’d washed her face and all she was wearing was a pale yellow silk nightgown with thin straps. The soft color of the material made her skin glow.
Her eyes traveled over him in a hungry, desperate slide and he felt himself respond to the need on her face.
“Dylan,” she whispered, and he had to strain to hear her over the pounding beat of his heart. Then her voice strengthened and her chest heaved with the power of her trapped emotions. “I need…I need…”
“I know,” he said stepping closer to her.
The light, clingy material was so transparent, he could see her dusky nipples, as well as the rest of her glorious body. She was so beautiful, his body leaped into blood-pumping alert. And she was so unsure of herself that his throat ached. His gaze moved down her body, her slender torso curved narrow at the waist, her hips round and firm, and her long legs smooth and tanned. He knew then that if he had to do without her, his life would be one big empty joke. His eyes traveled back up, centering on her breasts and the seductive outline of her tantalizing nipples. They hardened under his gaze. He reached out and curled his fingers around the strap and pulled her roughly into his arms. “Dylan,” she pleaded. “Dylan.”
Her hands went to the zipper of his jeans and freed him. His head bent. “Dylan,” she whispered, begged. His mouth closed over her and she arched wantonly into the heat of him. She moaned his name again. The sound of it reverberated against the walls, throwing his name back at them like an aching echo of wrenching need.
He sucked hard on the bud in his mouth and she cried out. He felt satisfaction turn from an ember into a full raging conflagration of hunger.
He heard the material rip in the confines of the room. When he looked down, he realized it was his hands that had done it. Big, powerful hands on flimsy, delicate silk. Hands that looked so huge against the smallness of her exquisite body. The sight was so arousing that he hardened with painful desire. He growled low in his throat and pushed her up against the wall. The ripped gown caught between them, her upper body totally exposed to his hungry gaze. He cupped both soft, round globes in his hands and took each nipple in turn. He moved with wild abandon against her, unable to stop the frenzy of powerful need that drove him. Every time he moved his hips in an uncontrollable thrust, he encountered the soft, erotic slide of the silk against his hardness.
Never in his life had he felt so out of control. The taste of her was like ambrosia, intoxicating until he felt as if the very life of her was in his blood, pumping through his heart and pulsing in every cell of his body. He couldn’t get enough of her, felt as if he’d waited his whole life to have her like this.
His mouth moved up her body to her succulent lips and took the wet, satiny skin with a harsh demand. Haley returned his kiss with just as much force, just as much demand.
The nagging concerns and the world beyond this room ceased to exist. There was nothing but them, nothing but the driving need that wouldn’t let them rest until it was met.
His hands wandered her body in feverish activity. Where it met silk, he pushed the material away from her only to encounter softer, silkier skin beneath.
Her hands roamed over the hard muscles of his back, through the strands of his hair, and kneaded his powerful shoulders. Where she touched, there was tingling fire. The feel of her hands on him threatened what precious little control he had left.
Her hands were at his jeans, pushing the material off his hips, along with his underwear. She cupped him and his breath hissed out, his body jackknifing at the pure, erotic sensation of her hands curling around his erection.
His hands slid down the curve of her bottom, raising her leg, lifting her and pressing her into that part of him that ached for her the most. The soft, harsh cry that came from her made him wild with need. He pressed her back and her legs and arms wrapped around him. The weight of her felt delicious against him. Woman, warm, soft.
“Mine,” he said, unaware he was even saying the word.
He’d never felt this way about anyone before, never craved anyone more, couldn’t ever see himself with anyone but his fiery, flamboyant Haley.
The sounds of their pleasure mingled with the soft strains of the music. The urgency, the very need pulsating in the grasps, cries, groans that were music to his ears. He clasped her tighter to him and with a bucking thrust entered her deeply. Haley arched into him, crying out his name in a pleasure-soaked voice. The fire of his need for her savaged him and he moved against her mindlessly, the force driving him.
She matched him in that savage moment of unleashed passion.
His body seemed beyond him. There was only the driving need to claim her, to make her unequivocally his. His breathing was harsh as he pulled her harder against him and she was close to the edge. He endeavored to push her over. She froze; an amazed look came over her face. Dylan watched her slide into and relish the explosion of pleasure that swamped her and her senses.
It was the final push to his highly aroused body. He followed her into the blast, and fragments of her pleasure struck him.
“Haley…” His voice was rough, hoarse, full of his need for her. At the sound of her name, she clutched him tight and held on to him.
He cradled her against him, loath to move or to let go of her. Finally, he had to as he let her slip down his body. Suddenly, he realized he hadn’t even gotten fully undressed. As her feet hit the floor, the ruined nightgown dropped to her feet. She looked up at him.
“I’m sorry. I was too rough. Did I hurt you?”
“No, I can honestly say that what you did to me didn’t hurt at all.”
He bent and picked up the garment. “It’s ruined.” The silk felt like her skin in his hands. “And so beautiful. I’m sorry.”
“How about I buy a dozen more and you can rip those, too?”
He dipped and picked her up. Kicking away his jeans, he walked toward the bed and set her in it, following her down. “I’m not leaving.” He knew he should, but he couldn’t bear to leave her knowing what was in store for them at the end of the week.
“Good,” she whispered as she cuddled against him.
“We’ll have breakfast together in the morning,” he murmured, sated and feeling drowsy as he cradled her in his arms.
“Can’t.”
“I’m eating breakfast with you,” he insisted, raising himself on his elbow.
She yawned. “Then we’ll starve. I haven’t got a thing in the fridge.”
“Cold pizza?” he suggested, gently pushing her unruly hair off her face.
“Yuk. Maybe the bakery across the street.” She looked up at him and smiled softly.
“Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?” he asked huskily.
“You’d never hurt me, Dylan.”
He closed his eyes as guilt sunk sharp talons into his stomach. Little did she know what lengths he would go to protect her from his father. He felt her hands on the buttons of his shirt. Her mouth on his skin.
It was on his lips to tell her how he really felt, but before he could utter a word, she said, “See. It’s just about sex, Dyla
n. That’s where we mesh.”
He didn’t speak. There was nothing for him to say.
She continued. “You have everything planned for Saturday, right? It’ll be my last column, our last night together. Sarah comes back on Monday and I’ll turn the column back over to her.”
Dylan closed his eyes, wondering how he was going to return to his life after Haley left. “I have everything planned. Don’t worry.”
11
SATURDAY AFTERNOON Dylan unlocked the hotel-room door and let Haley go ahead of him. The Ritz-Carlton was one of the most exclusive in the city and it was a bonus that the party would be here.
“This is really nice. You should let me pay half.”
“No. I want to do this for you.” He didn’t feel good about what he had to do to her to get her to walk away from him and never look back. He wanted to bring her someplace special for their last fantasy together.
His whole body rebelled against that notion and he pushed the thought from his mind.
He dropped his bag and handed her a slip of paper.
“What’s this?”
“A voucher for a facial and manicure. You go ahead and I’ll prepare everything.”
Haley took the voucher and gave him a half smile. “You really are full of surprises.”
He brushed the back of his fingers against her face. “Enjoy yourself, Haley. This fantasy is for you.”
When Haley left, Dylan got busy.
After Haley’s session was over, she went back to the room. When she opened the door, there was a masseuse table set up with oils next to it. Dylan came out of the bathroom and Haley’s good intentions went flying out the window. How was she ever going to pretend that he didn’t mean something to her?
He was dressed in tight black shorts and nothing else, his chest broad and heavily muscled. Haley felt her breath seize as a peculiar hot-cold feeling flashed through her. In a split second, he made her aware of him again, powerfully aware of his size, his shape, his masculinity. In a way she hadn’t experienced since the first time, she noticed the breadth of his shoulders and the narrowness of his hips, the long, lean power of his strong thighs. Suddenly her palms remembered the contours of his body when she clasped him to her in the enthralling pulsating depth of passion.