Six Month Rule (Kingston Ale House) (10 page)

“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 the 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?”

Brynn nodded.

“I am not falling faster or harder,” she said. “I’m not
falling
, period. You know me, B. I’m defective that way, remember? You always think the next guy I date is going to be
the
guy, and he never is. You even had your fingers crossed for Charlie! Smarmy Charlie!”

Brynn shrugged. “I want you to be happy,” she said.

Holly looked past her sister and into the apartment. “I’m fine. It’s just fifth-wheel syndrome.”

“Fine isn’t happy.”

She kissed her big sister on the cheek and stood up.

“In five months Andrea is going to make me partner, and I will have everything I’ve ever wanted before I’m twenty-eight,” she told her. “I’m happy. And tired. I’m gonna head out.”

Brynn opened her mouth to say something, but Holly cut her off with an exaggerated grin.

“See?” she said, slipping through the sliding glass door. “Happy.”

“You don’t need to leave,” Brynn said, following her into the apartment.

“Don’t go,” Annie added, but Holly already had her shoes on and her purse slung across her body.

“Everyone enjoy the day off tomorrow,” she said, blowing a kiss with her plastered-on smile. “As always, thanks for the brew, James.”

He offered her a salute, and Holly silently thanked him for not joining the chorus that asked her to stay. Maybe this was what her horoscope had meant. The sky was against her. Her sister was against her. And even Annie tried to make her stay and keep her from doing what she wanted, which was to go home, take a hot bath, and eat a pint or two of ice cream with a rom-com cued up on the DVR.

She stepped out onto the street and gave herself a mental pat on the back for holding firm to her beliefs, even if said beliefs were to try to get friendly with her showerhead again followed by eating her feelings. Scratch that. These were not feelings. It was just the euphoria of the honeymoon phase coupled with the longing that absence created. Nothing self-pleasure and ice cream couldn’t cure.

At home, Holly peeled off her clothes as she made her way to her bedroom, her skin sticky with the humidity. Once the air-conditioning hit her, though, goose bumps dotted her flesh, and she craved the cleansing heat of the bath. She threw on her robe and started the water running, poured in a generous helping of her eucalyptus-spearmint bubble bath, then took a detour to the kitchen for a couple spoonfuls of pure, ice-cold chocolate.

There was a soft knock at her door as she cleaned off the spoon for a second time, and Holly rolled her eyes.

“I told you to keep your key,” she called, throwing the door open to assure Brynn once again that she was, in fact, fine.

“I didn’t know we were exchanging keys already.”

Will stared at her through tired-looking eyes. But they were beautiful and blue and here at her front door instead of an ocean and a bunch of time zones away. His weekend bag sat at his feet, and Holly realized he must have come straight from the airport.

“You’re here,” she said, trying to contain her complete and utter elation.

“And you’re holding a spoon,” he said. “If we’re stating the obvious.”

She let out a nervous laugh.

“Ice cream.” Then she noticed what was different from when she’d seen him Friday. “You shaved. I’m still getting used to you looking like a new person at the beginning of every week.”

Will scrubbed a hand across his jaw and grinned.

“And the robe?” he asked.

“Oh, shit!” Holly ran, leaving him standing in the opened door, and made it to the bathroom just in time to turn off the tub before the bubbles overflowed onto the tile. She gave herself a once-over in the mirror and groaned. Her face was flushed. And her hair, up in a messy bun now, showed off the tendrils still damp with sweat from her walk home. Still, she couldn’t stop smiling because Will at her door was so much better than what she originally had planned.

Crap. Will was still standing at the door. She scurried back through the kitchen toward her entryway, noticed the spoon still gripped tightly in her hand, and backtracked to the sink to throw it in. When she finally stood in front of him again, she found it difficult to calm her nerves, hands fidgeting with the belt on her robe.

“Is everything all right?” he asked, and she nodded. “May I come in?” he added.

“Ohmygodyes
,
” she said, all in one word. “Shit! Yes. Come in.”

She backed up as he grabbed his bag and stepped through the door, closing it behind him.

“Do you always shout so much profanity when you’re about to have a bath?”

He smiled, and her shoulders relaxed.

“You caught me off guard,” she admitted.

Will ran a hand through his hair, which was charmingly disheveled, and Holly imagined him sleeping on the plane.

“I apologize. I should have called, but it’s the holiday, and I wasn’t even sure I could change my flight, but I forgot that England doesn’t exactly shut down for July the Fourth, and Tara has Sophie in this art class on Mondays, and—”

“Will,” Holly interrupted, and he ended his seemingly nervous rant, which only made him more charming.

“Yes?”

She took his bag from his hand and dropped it on the floor.

“You are going to kiss me, right?”

He let out a long breath and nodded.

“God, yes,” he said, and in seconds his palms cupped her cheeks and his lips found hers with a sweet, gentle yearning she could practically taste.

Holly wrapped her arms around his waist.

“I missed…this,” she said as she moved backward, leading him toward the bathroom. She wouldn’t say what she was thinking, that it was the man himself she missed, because she knew that part would pass. For now all she knew was that what she had told Brynn wasn’t a lie. Holly
was
happy, right here, in this moment.

“I missed
this
, too,” Will said, kissing her again as they reached her bathroom door.

She stepped back and untied her robe, and his eyes seemed to darken at the sight of her.

“Join me?” she asked, and Will responded by parting her robe so his hands rested on her bare hips. One slid up her left side until his hand found her breast while the other dropped behind her, cupping her ass.

“You’re bloody gorgeous.”

“I’m a bloody mess,” Holly told him, and she breathed in sharply as he rubbed his thumb over her pebbled nipple.

“Gorgeous,” he said again, the word insistent, and he kissed her hard, his need seeming to multiply as it mingled with hers. “And you taste like chocolate.”

“Is that good?” she asked, her words coming out in pants.

Will tugged the robe from her shoulders, and she stood bared to him now.

“It’s a dangerous combination, actually.” He dipped his head, swirled his tongue over the nipple he’d already begun teasing, and Holly’s knees buckled. “I might devour you, body and soul,” he added.

Holly pushed his head from her before she collapsed and knocked her head on the tub. Then she stepped over the short wall and into the steaming water, lowering herself under the foam of the bubbles.

Will chuckled. “That’s quite cruel, taking away my view.”

Holly shrugged as she submerged herself up to her neck.

“Maybe I want a little show first,” she said. “Take off your shirt.”

Will leaned against the counter and crossed his arms.

“Say please,” he said, grinning, and she had to restrain herself from climbing right

back out and tearing his clothes from his body.

Play it cool, Chandler. Don’t show your hand too early.

“
Please
take off your shirt.”

He pulled the black T-shirt over his head. The one thing Holly liked even more than Will Evans in a T-shirt and jeans was Will Evans in no shirt at all.

“Lose the jeans, too,” she told him, then added, “
please
.”

Will kicked off his shoes and socks, obliging without protest, and Holly squirmed beneath the bubbles as heat pooled in her core. There he stood, his long, lean, beautiful body a sight she hadn’t expected to see for at least another day. He must do something to stay so toned, but Holly realized she had no idea what it was Will Evans did when he wasn’t at Trousseau or in her bed. Speaking of which, those boxers did nothing to hide his erection, and she swallowed at the thought of her hand gliding over his rigid length.

“Are you a runner?” she asked, and he shook his head. “Weight lifter?” His shoulders and upper arms were cut but not thick, so she expected the head shake again.

Will lowered his boxers, and Holly’s eyes widened when her memory of what lay beneath was confirmed. He stepped into the tub, lowering himself to face her, but she turned him around, pulling his back to her torso, his head resting on her shoulder.

He let out a long breath, and Holly realized how exhausted he must be after a day’s worth of travel and the fact that for his body’s clock, it was now the middle of the night.

“Rowing,” he said softly. “I rowed at university. Still do whenever I get the chance.”

She kissed his shoulder. That explained the rough palms, the ones she thought about now, touching all parts of her wet body.

“I think I need to tell you that I find that ridiculously sexy.”

Will smiled as his eyes closed.

“The bubbles,” he said dreamily. “They smell nice.”

He relaxed against her, and Holly grabbed the washcloth she had folded over the ledge, soaking it and drizzling it over his shoulders and chest. She continued with this, and it turned into a slow pattern—kiss his shoulder or cheek, resoak the cloth, and let the water trickle over his skin. When his breathing slowed, she could tell he was falling asleep, so she convinced him to get out and dry off, leading him by the hand to her bed, where he collapsed on top of the covers wearing nothing but a towel slung over his hips.