His Private Pleasure

by Donna Kauffman

  Rather than head to the door, he crossed the deck toward her. She had a wild thought to run, just race down the stairs, jump in her car and tear down the mountain, keep on driving until she was out of town, out of his life.

  Because the way he looked at her made her heart hurt. And she wasn’t sure she could manage the pretense of this being another one of her wild flings. It was wild, what happened when they were together, but nothing about Dylan felt remotely flinglike. And when he stopped in front of her, concern in those golden-brown eyes of his, eyes that saw her so clearly it scared her, she doubted four months was long enough to burn him out of her system.

  “What’s wrong? Did I say something wrong down there? Never mind, I know I did. If it’s about the handcuffs, I really didn’t mean to insult you about helping in town—”

  She laughed and choked on a little sob at the same time. He really was adorable. And wonderful. And sexy as hell. And she wanted him to be all hers. There. She’d said it, even if only to herself. “You didn’t insult me. And I’m fine. Just not all that hungry.”

  He cocked his head and stared at her. “Sure?”

  “Yep. Maybe just a glass of wine, out here on the deck?”

  He stared at her a moment longer, then said, “Okay.” But she suspected he knew she wasn’t okay. Not entirely. He went inside for a corkscrew and she turned her gaze to the valley sprawled below.

  Okay. She wanted him. Not for a fling, but for the duration, however long that would be. Forever, maybe. If she was lucky. Only for the first time in her life, she wasn’t sure how to go about getting what she wanted. Dylan wasn’t like anyone else she’d ever met. He wouldn’t simply fall at her feet because she willed it to happen. And if she came on too strong, he’d only flip the tables on her. If she tried the timid approach… She stopped right there, since that was simply too laughable to consider. Besides, he’d never buy it, anyway.

  Which left…being herself. Whatever the hell that was. But whatever it was, it had gotten her this far.

  Damn, but this falling in love stuff was terrifying. She wished she could call Natalie. Nat had been through this…this free-fall-with-no-safety-net feeling. And she’d understand, not question it, as hers had happened just like it was happening for Liza—coming straight at her, speeding into her life like a comet, on a direct collision course with her heart.

  It defied every one of Liza’s goal-achieving strategies. Instead, it demanded she put it all on the line, throw herself out there and pray like hell that being the vague, undefined entity known as “herself” was enough. Risk the pain of realizing it might not be, not for him. Not that failure itself was all that painful for her. But the broken heart that would come with it would be excruciating.

  “Come with me.” His deep voice and warm hand in hers pulled her from her thoughts. She turned, expecting to find him holding wineglasses. But he was empty-handed, except for her. He turned, pulling her along behind him. She went silently, curious about what he had up his sleeve this time.

  It struck her, as they wound their way into his living room, how comfortable she was, how much trust she’d built up in him. Here she was, halfway through his house, and not once had it occurred to her to try and wangle the scenario to her advantage. Or, more to the point, to her control.

  Maybe, she considered, her heart had already figured out what her head had taken a bit longer to realize. That whatever he did with her, for her, to her, was to her advantage. That he was a man who had, if she thought about it, always put her needs first. Sometimes knowing what those needs were before she did.

  So when he led her up the curving wrought-iron staircase to the loft above, she went along willingly. Anticipating whatever he had planned…without a thought toward trying to take over. Because she finally understood what he’d been trying to tell her all along. That this wasn’t about who was on top. This was about giving in, not only to him, but to herself. It was about trust, and knowing it was as important for him to give as it was for her to learn to take.

  My God, she thought with a happy little grin. I think I finally grew up.

  17

  DYLAN STARED AT THE SCENE he’d set, smiled ruefully, suddenly feeling stupid, then stepped aside so Liza could see. Her gasp of surprised pleasure made taking the risk worthwhile.

  “I know they’re not all that pretty. Mostly I keep them for when the power goes out.”

  She turned away from the lit candles that dotted the nightstands, dresser and windowsills. “They’re beautiful.” She moved into his arms. “And so are you.”

  He smiled. “Yeah, I’m a regular Don Juan.” Then his smile faded and he pulled her more tightly against him. “I know it sounds foolish, and you’ve probably been wined and dined by men better at it than me, but—”

  She pressed her fingers to his lips. “Maybe so. But there’s calculated seduction, and then there’s…well, you.”

  Dylan laughed. “Gee, thanks.”

  “No, that’s not how I meant it.” She tried to wriggle free, only he didn’t let her.

  He wanted her right where he could touch her, hold her, smell her, taste her when he felt like it. It should alarm him that he’d become so obsessed so quickly, but he didn’t care.

  “I just meant, well, you’ve already had me, and given what just happened in your own driveway, it’s a safe bet you could have me again.” Her dry smile faded. “So there was no need for all this, and yet you did it anyway. That’s what I meant. It’s more romantic than any polished and perfected little scene, because you wanted to do it for me, just because.”

  Dylan grinned. “Well, there might have been a little calculation involved.”

  She cocked her head. “Oh?”

  He shuffled her backward, until the mattress bumped the backs of her legs. “I thought that maybe with all this flickering candlelight, I could distract you long enough so you’d let me do this.” He pushed her back and fell with her onto the bed, careful to lever himself so he didn’t crush her.

  “This?” she said, a bit breathlessly.

  He leaned in, trapping her hands beside her head. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “No cuffs, no games, no power struggles, just…this.” He lowered his head and took her mouth, gently this time, exploring what was there instead of simply invading it.

  When he shifted his attentions to the fine line of her jaw, then her neck and that delectable little curve of her shoulder, she sighed. “I’m liking this.”

  “Good,” he murmured, “because I have a lot more of it in mind.”

  This time they undressed each other. Slowly. Lazily exploring every nuance, every dip and sinew. By the time Dylan pulled her beneath him, he didn’t think he’d ever felt so deeply connected to anyone. And when he slid inside her and she wrapped herself tight around him, he couldn’t ignore the sensation that he’d come home.

  “Liza,” he whispered, as he thrust slowly, distinctly, inside of her.

  Her eyes fluttered open and he thought he might drown in what he saw there. “Mmm,” was all she managed in answer.

  You’re mine, he thought, and for a split second he thought he’d said the words out loud. Maybe he should. He felt like shouting them. And he knew it wasn’t just the way she contracted around him, holding him inside her like they were built to fit as exactly as they did. Because he felt just like this sitting at his desk, thinking about her.

  He was in love with her. It was crazy. And it didn’t matter. His head knew. And now his heart did, too.

  “Hold on to me,” he told her. And she did. He moved deeper, never once wavering from her steady gaze. Then he rolled to his back, pulling her on top of him. Her eyes widened in surprise, then they both groaned as she settled her weight on him, and he sank even more deeply into her.

  “And just when I was getting used to being on the bottom,” she quipped, then gasped as he lifted his hips.

  “I like keeping you off balance,” he said, his own lips spreading in a wide grin.

  She clamped her knees to
his sides and rode him steadily, making him gasp and buck instinctively. “Better watch out, I’m a fast learner.”

  He rolled her to her back, causing her to shriek with a little laugh, her head almost off the bed. “So we’ll teach each other,” he said, then paused in midthrust, surprised at the fleeting expression that had crossed her face. “What?”

  “Don’t stop, I’m fine.”

  He trapped her face in his hands. “No, you avoided the question earlier. Now tell me. Am I moving too fast?”

  That got a dry laugh out of her. “I don’t think either of us can claim any kind of patience.”

  “Then maybe it’s that I’m presuming too much.” He thought she hadn’t understood the depth of what he was feeling, that he’d masked it well behind the need of his body for hers. But he already knew nothing got past her. He shouldn’t have been surprised that this hadn’t, either. “I know it seems too soon,” he said, “but it’s just the way it is. I’m not making any demands. But I won’t lie and tell you I’m not already planning to find a way to keep you here long enough so that when the time comes and Pearl’s done her thing, you won’t even think about leaving.”

  She said nothing, simply stared at him, her expression for once unreadable. His heart was pounding, and not just because she felt so damn good and he’d been so damn close to climaxing before he stupidly decided to have this little talk. “You know, I’ve faced down whacked-out perps waving loaded guns, and never felt quite this nervous. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  It was another moment before she spoke. “I’m thinking you should finish what you started, then we’ll talk.”

  His body urged him vehemently to take her suggestion and run wild with it. But something told him if he let them drift back to the physical now, an important, maybe life-altering moment would be forever lost. He might get her like this again, but she’d be prepared next time. And the time after that. “That’s exactly what I’m asking you,” he said. “To stick around long enough for us to finish what we’ve started here.”

  “You’re really not talking about sex, are you.” She hadn’t made it a question.

  He shook his head. “I’m talking about this.” He bent down and kissed her, gently, reverently, then lifted his head just enough to look into her eyes. “I’m falling in love with you, Liza. I think maybe I was the moment you got out of that death trap you call a car. And it’s not about this.” He moved inside her, making her gasp. “Although it’s certainly a side benefit.”

  She arched one brow and wrapped her legs more tightly around his waist, lifting her hips, coaxing him deeper, so his body would simply take over, bypass all the cerebral stuff. And she almost succeeded. Almost.

  His jaw was strained with the tension of not giving in to what he so badly wanted…and what they both would so thoroughly enjoy. “You want to run every last committee in town, that’s fine,” he growled. “You’re not happy unless you’re running something.” He grunted a little when she simply squeezed her inner muscles, tightening her grip on him by way of agreeing with him. “Very funny.”

  She managed to smile up at him, but she was trembling, too.

  “But you can’t always be in charge. You need to learn how to take. And I want to be the one who brings you to that place. Where you can let it all go. Trust that I’ll handle it. Handle you. Just let go.” He kissed her again, more urgently this time, and he began to move as well. “Just let it go.” He looked down at her, thrust again, and again. “Come home to me. Let me be that for you.”

  She thrashed her head from side to side as he continued to drive her, with his body, with his words, until she screamed, “Yes! Okay, dammit?” She was gasping; his hips were pistoning. “Yes, yes!”

  He took her over the edge, not surprised that she took him with her. He collapsed next to her, pulled her against him and tried to remember how to breathe.

  Eventually his heart slowed and he felt her own breathing even out. He stroked her hair and wondered if he hadn’t just ruined what might have been a wonderful couple of months by pushing her too hard, too fast.

  “Did you really mean it?” she asked softly.

  He thought she was dozing, so her quiet question startled him. He continued to fiddle with her hair, concentrating on the drowsy weight of her limbs draped across his, and how right this whole thing felt. “I meant everything I said. Which part are you asking about?”

  He started to shift so she could lift her head, but she pressed her cheek firmly to his chest, keeping her gaze averted.

  “I’m…my family doesn’t exactly have a good track record when it comes to long-term commitment. In that respect, I don’t fall far from the tree.”

  His heart skipped a beat. He willed it to smooth out. “You strike me as a risk taker.”

  “In some things.”

  “But not with this sort of thing? Then how do you know you won’t be good at it?”

  “I’ve…I have no strategy for this. No method of success to copy, no pattern to follow.” She finally lifted her head and looked at him. “What if I can’t figure out how to make it work?”

  He smoothed her rumpled curls. “I’m new at this, too. We’ll figure it out together.”

  “I’m not an easy person to deal with.”

  His grin came naturally. “I think it’s one of the things I enjoy most.”

  She snorted. “That’s the recent double orgasm talking.”

  “Could be.”

  She swatted him on the chest.

  He trapped her close with one strong arm. “I can’t claim to have a mind totally unfogged by recent activities, but I do know that I’ve been with women who were simple, easy to get along with, go-with-the-flow types.”

  “And?”

  “And it was…boring. Or at the very least, not stimulating.”

  “And I am?”

  “Oh, definitely. And no, I’m not talking about sex this time, either.”

  She settled on his chest, propping her chin on her hands. “Well, that will get old, let me tell you.”

  He took her face in his hands. “Well, why don’t we just find out for ourselves, okay?”

  She frowned. “You’re really serious, aren’t you?”

  “Is it so unbelievable that I could fall in love with you? Do you see yourself as unlovable?”

  “Yes. I mean, no. I mean…” She sighed. “I don’t know what I mean. I never really looked at it that way. But then, I never thought about permanent, personal type relationships.” She grimaced. “That was half my problem—I never thought about anything personal. I was all-business, all the time.”

  “So this wasn’t part of the sabbatical plan, I take it? You want to move on then, see if anything else strikes your fancy? Fills your soul better?”

  “It would be smarter to figure out what I wanted before I got to the who I wanted part.”

  “Sometimes we don’t get to be in control of that, either.”

  She rolled her eyes, then rested her cheek on his chest, looking away once again.

  The silence stretched out and he appeased his growing anxiety by toying with her curls, playing with one dark coil, then another. “If you want to go,” he said at length, “then I won’t stop you.” He wove his fingers deeper, urged her to shift and look at him. Only when she had did he add, “But I can’t promise I won’t come after you.”

  Her gorgeous eyes widened. “You wouldn’t. You have work here, a life here.”

  “I do. But I also know a once in a lifetime deal when I see it. A job is just a job. And Canyon Springs isn’t going anywhere. But you…” He brushed a fingertip down the length of her nose, let it pause on her lower lip, then caressed her chin. “You could be everything.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  He grinned. “Try me.”

  Liza did sit up then, despite the strong band of muscles binding her to his side. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and tried like hell to get her mind to stop jumping and focus. Dear Lord, had he reall
y just told her she was the one for him?

  It was like a dream come true. Her heart was pounding, urging her to do the happy dance. But how did she make herself believe in it? Sure, she knew he meant what he was saying. But he was in lust, puppy love, early hormonal crush, when everything was sexy and nothing imaginable could go wrong.

  He said he’d follow her. And she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a bit seduced by the thrill of a man wanting her badly enough to fight for her. To pursue her, dog her heels and wear her down until she confessed that, yes, dammit, he was everything she wanted.

  Did it really have to be hard? And what exactly did she want him to do to prove this wouldn’t all turn out badly? Sign an agreement?

  But this wasn’t a business proposition. It was a heart reaching out. Taking the risk. He couldn’t be that confident. This had to be hard for him, too, right?

  “Aren’t you scared?” she blurted out.

  “Terrified,” he confirmed solemnly.

  She looked over her shoulder. Damn but he looked good, all sprawled and naked in those sheets. This could be yours, every morning and every night. It was like being told you might hold the winning lottery ticket.

  But then again, you might be one number off. And lose everything. Because that’s what this was. Winner take all, loser go home with nothing but a broken heart.

  “I hate to lose,” she muttered.

  “So do I.”

  She slid off the bed, but he snagged her wrist, made her turn around. “I don’t expect a life commitment right this very second, you know. In fact, I hadn’t planned on telling you anything about the way I felt.” He smiled that disarming, cocky-but-self-deprecating smile of his. “I was going to wear you down with great sex until you were hooked on it, and pray like hell you’d end up sticking around for more.”

  “Setting yourself up as an orgasm pusher with me as your junkie. Well, that’s a first.”

  “Would it have worked?”

  She laughed despite herself. “Might have.”

  He pulled her back on the bed. “Then forget everything else I said and let’s go back to plan A.”