D
ylan had noticed the uncertainty in Holly’s eyes from the moment she joined him in the kitchen. It wasn’t him she mistrusted but the lure of his career. That’s what had taken him away from her before. Damned if he knew how to convince her that she was exactly what he needed, not just in his life as a friend, but an integral part of it.
He didn’t have time to think, let alone talk, any more, not when she was linking her ankles behind his back and pulling him deeper into the vee of her legs. Though the rational part of him knew she was using sex to escape serious discussion, desire flooded him, the need to be inside her again all-consuming.
“Holly,” he said, trying to refocus her thoughts as well as his.
“Dylan,” she mimicked, her hands sliding into the waistband of his jeans.
She pushed herself forward on the counter until she sat at the very edge and he was nestled between her thighs. He couldn’t mistake her intent or her need. The warmth and heat emanating from her body called to him in a primitive way he couldn’t mistake. His body throbbed, his erection thrusting against his jeans, and suddenly their discussion could definitely wait.
Eyes glittering, she met his gaze. “You were saying?”
He shook his head. “It’ll keep.” His surprise would make a better gift given at the right time.
“I thought so. Now, how about letting me have my wicked way with you?” Her lips turned upward in a seductive grin.
He still wasn’t used to this teasing side of her, but he sure liked it. “What’d you have in mind?”
She hopped down from the counter, and with deft hands, she opened his jeans. As he watched, his breath coming in shorter and shorter gasps, she pulled the denim over his hips and thighs. When they reached his ankles, he kicked the pants aside. His briefs quickly followed, and his freed erection sprang to life.
Pulse pounding, heart racing, he met her gaze. “What now?”
She patted the counter where she’d once sat. “Have a seat.”
He complied, shivering when the Formica touched his bare skin. “Damn, that’s cold.”
“Don’t worry. I have every intention of warming you,” she said, her voice hot and thick. “Do you remember what my favorite ice cream topping is?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I’m guessing it’s still that Marshmallow Fluff you were just eating.”
She reached for the jar and brought it beside him. He glanced from the gooey white fluff to the wicked gleam in her eyes. “You wouldn’t,” he said, the blood rushing in his ears at the very thoughts soaring through his head.
“You don’t think I would?” She dabbed her finger into the jar and slowly placed it into her mouth, sucking the crème from her finger with her tongue, grazing with her teeth, all her movements deliberately, seductively slow.
His erection throbbed harder and his mouth grew dry.
“Well?” she asked.
“I dare you,” he said, using the words that had once provoked her into sneaking out of her house to meet him by the corner of her street so they could go make out in his car.
She met and held his stare for a brief moment before dipping her fingers into the jar. Drawing a deep breath, she coated the head of his erect penis with the Fluff. He’d wanted to watch, but as her fingers and the sticky substance touched his aching member, the sensation was too much. He leaned his head back against the cabinets and groaned aloud, knowing he was powerless and completely at her mercy.
Forcing his eyes open, he noticed that Holly was trembling, perhaps even more than Dylan, which told him a lot. Despite the playful teasing, she was deadly serious about him. He knew it in his gut.
Lowering her head, she bent and took him into her mouth, drawing him in deep. The moist warmth was nearly his undoing. He nearly came then, before she even began working him, but he managed to exercise control. He gripped the edge of the countertop hard with his fingertips, his head still resting against the cabinets, his body shaking with a restraint that lasted only until she began a steady, rhythmic sucking.
Her tongue licked the Fluff, licking at
him
, pulling, teasing up and down. She grazed the head of his penis with gentle teeth, then soothed long, luxurious laps of her tongue, never letting up. He was shaking even before his climax hit, and when it did, the sensation rocked him hard, wave after wave consuming him. Lost in the world she created, he came. And carne. And came.
When he’d caught his breath, he opened his eyes to find her staring back at him. He cupped her head in his hands and looked into her warm, giving eyes.
“I love you, babe.” He’d meant to kiss her. The words toppled out instead.
She straightened and took a step back. Dylan realized his mistake immediately. He’d spoken too soon, and he’d shaken her up badly. But before he could say a word to smooth things over, her cell phone rang and she dove to answer it.
Cursing, he jumped down and pulled on his pants. He wanted to deal with her fully dressed and fix his mistake as quickly as possible before she withdrew even further.
Unfortunately, she returned, cell phone in hand, reaching for her purse. “It’s an emergency. I have to go.”
She’d turned from his seductress to shaken woman to in-control doctor in seconds flat. He respected it. Respected her.
“Let me drive you.” For selfish reasons he didn’t want to be apart from her right now.
She gave a curt nod. “I don’t have time to argue. Robert Hansen’s five-year-old fell and hit his head on the corner of a table. He’s got a huge gash, and there’s lots of blood. I said I’d meet them at the hospital.”
“Good thing I got dressed,” he said, laughing.
Unfortunately, she didn’t join in.
* * *
Holly had never been happy at someone else’s expense and she wasn’t about to start feeling that way now, but she couldn’t deny she’d been so darn grateful for the phone call that had distracted her from Dylan’s heartfelt words. Her heart pounded hard in her chest, even now, as she filled out the last of the paperwork on Jason Hansen. The child had received stitches and had just narrowly missed hitting his eye on the table corner in his fall. He was one lucky little boy, she thought, signing her name and handing the clipboard in at the hospital desk.
Dylan waited for her in the lounge, where she’d have to face him and their shared afternoon. She’d started by using sex and foreplay as a distraction. A means of avoiding a more serious discussion that might lead to him telling her he needed to return to L.A. But her deliberately seductive move had turned into a completely emotional one for her.
She’d wanted to give herself to him in a way he couldn’t possibly forget. She wanted to be indelibly etched in his mind forever just as she knew that moment would be a permanent part of her, heart and soul. And now she had to live with the consequences.
She didn’t doubt he loved her. It was his ability to do anything about his feelings that she didn’t trust. His work would take him away from her, and the lifestyle in L.A. couldn’t possibly compete with small-town life in Acton, Massachusetts. Sure, he said he was tired of the throngs of people and fans, tired of the phoniness in his world, but he’d wither and die here. And she refused to be the reason or the one he grew to resent.
Steeling herself for any discussion he might want to have, she walked back towards the small waiting room and strode through the double doors. There must have been a lull in traffic because the room was empty except for Dylan, who’d curled into the corner of the plastic couch and dozed off. A lock of his hair had fallen over his forehead, and his head rested against his balled-up leather jacket.
Her heart turned over at the sight, and she knelt down next to the couch. “Hey, sleepyhead.” She nudged his arm and tried to wake him, but he’d always been a deep sleeper, so it took a few more tries before he finally jerked his head upward.
“Hey.” He rubbed his eyes with his palms. “Are you all finished?”
She nodded.
“How’s the kid?”
“Other than a few stitches, he’s really lucky. But I doubt he’ll be in the mood to wrestle with his brothers anytime soon.”
Dylan laughed. “He’s lucky to have you as his doctor.” His voice sobered, and Holly sensed his serious mood, return. “I watched you in action, you know.”
Embarrassed, she shook her head. “Once I get started in an emergency, I don’t see much else around me.”
* * *
“I realized that.” Holly’s dedication and abilities hadn’t come as a surprise to him, yet his respect for her had grown tremendously. And in an odd way, seeing her work had validated his decision to leave her behind all those years ago.
He rose and stretched out his muscles, which were cramped from being in one position for so long. “Are you ready to head home?”
“Uh, yeah.” She seemed surprised.
They walked to the parking lot, and he slipped his arm around her shoulders. “I’m sure you’re exhausted.”
She nodded. “I could use a hot shower and a good night’s sleep.”
“Sounds like a definite plan,” he murmured, and in case she wasn’t sure what he meant, he nuzzled his lips against her neck and whispered what the two of them could do in that shower before she collapsed from exhaustion in her bed. With him by her side.
She laughed with him, her sexy way of agreeing to his idea. But she still seemed wary.
He guessed she was waiting for him to bring up his comment in her kitchen earlier. He didn’t plan on doing so. In fact, while alone here waiting, he’d decided to continue on as if nothing unusual had happened between them. He had little time before he had to return to L.A. for a meeting with his agent and a movie producer, which had nothing to do with superhero roles and everything to do with a part he was dying to tackle.
He wished he had the luxury of time to lay things out for Holly a little more slowly and with more care than he’d shown by blurting out his feelings in her kitchen. But what he didn’t have in time, they more than made up for in emotional connection. Beyond that, Dylan had no choice but to let fate play itself out.
* * *
After their eventful night, Dylan and Holly slept late. They woke, made love and fell asleep again. The day passed in a delicious way and then they arrived at Dylan’s mother’s house. Dinner at the Northwood house was just like being back in high school, when life was simple and everything seemed rosy and good, Holly thought. She’d called her mother and aunt to say hi before going over to Dylan’s. She missed her mother, but understood her aunt Rose had broken her hip and needed help and so Holly tried not to dwell on the emptiness of being without her own family during the holiday season. And once she arrived at Dylan’s house, that emptiness began to be filled.
Dylan’s mother had cooked dinner, and the house smelled delicious, warm and inviting. His sister, Amy, and her husband, Tom, and their young son, a precocious three-year-old named Matt, sat in the family room in front of the big-screen television Dylan had purchased for his mother’s birthday. Typical males, Dylan and Tom talked football and took turns keeping the fire stoked and the room warm, while Amy and Matt provided the sounds of laughter and squabbling. Amy kept busy diving to keep Matt out of trouble near the hearth and away from an old black Lab that dozed in the corner and whose tail Matt liked to pull.
Holly, after being thrown out of the kitchen for attempting to help, finally settled in beside Dylan, trying desperately not to like the feeling of being part of this family too much. But how could she not enjoy and feel welcome when every so often Dylan would reach out and massage her shoulders or idly twist her hair around his finger as he talked. His family all treated her as if she belonged here, as if she and Dylan had never broken up or been apart.
But most defining for Holly was that here, in his old home, Dylan’s stardom and fame didn’t exist, making it too easy for
her
to believe in a future. So much so that throughout dinner and dessert, she had to keep reminding herself that she’d succumbed to these fantasies once before and suffered nothing but heartache as a result.
By the time Dylan drove her home, she was stuffed from the good food and overwhelmed by memories and desire. When he turned and asked if he could come in, saying yes came as naturally to her as breathing.
Coming on top of the heavy-duty family scene, Dylan wanted to tread carefully now. Holly had relaxed in a way he hadn’t seen since his return, and he didn’t want to lose that mellow, comfortable mood.
“That was so nice.” She dropped the keys onto the shelf in her front hall. “I love your family.”
“Well, that’s good, because they love you, too.” His gaze darted to hers, wondering if any version of the word love would put her on edge.
“Can I get you coffee or something to drink?”
He accepted the subject change with a nod. “A cup of coffee sounds great.”
“Then make yourself at home.” She smiled and gestured to the couch in the family room.
While she headed to make him coffee he didn’t really need or want, he readied the room for just one of the surprises he had in store for Holly.
* * *
Thanks to a fast-brewing machine that made four cups of coffee at a time, Holly had coffee ready for herself and Dylan pretty quickly. She knew he liked his black, so she added milk and sugar for herself and walked back into her family room.
Instead of the bright space she’d left behind, Dylan had transformed the room. He’d shut off the overhead lights and turned on a small lamp in the corner along with the multicolored bulbs on her Christmas tree. From her small CD player, uplifting holiday music filled the air around them, while Dylan sat on the couch with a small wrapped box in his hand.
From across the room, she felt the heat of his stare branding her much like his heated touch. God, he was sexy. No doubt every woman who saw a similar pose from the pages of a magazine dreamed of him staring at her, wanting her, only having eyes for
her
.
He was every woman’s fantasy, and for this short span of time, he belonged to her. She was lucky, but she wasn’t deluded by his fame. She had enough self-respect to believe that, for as long as Dylan was with her, he was lucky, too.