by Sierra Hill
Okay, no harm in telling the truth in that. She was proud of her career choice and the work she was doing to educate the next generation. It was impossible to tamp down the giddy feeling she always got when talking about her students.
“Yes. I’m a high school teacher. I teach tenth grade American history. I was really lucky to get a teaching position in one of the local schools right out of college. I know my students don’t always care for learning historical facts, like the big things around the Colonial and Revolutionary wars, or how our government was created, or the reconstruction of our country after the Civil War. Or the impact the Great Depression had on the American people and the generations that followed. But I do my best to create a learning environment where the kids have fun and aren’t subjected to just reading boring books and taking tests to see if they remembered any of it.”
Realizing she hadn’t even taken a breath since starting, she inhaled and exhaled, raising her hand to place it on her face to hide the fact that she was embarrassed over her little soliloquy. Dylan’s own hand darted out to pull hers away from her face, his warm smile soothing away her mortification.
“It sounds like you’re a very caring and enthusiastic teacher, Sloane. Our country needs more public school teachers like you to enlighten these young kids today. They need more role models to show them how to conduct themselves in the real world. And you seem like you’re a terrific role model.”
She bit the corner of her lip, a bit self-conscious over Dan’s compliment.
If they’d known anything about what had just happened before she left California, and the guilt-by-association based on the company she’d been keeping, it would have certainly changed his view point. She may be young, but she wasn’t naïve enough to think that, regardless of the fact that she had nothing to do with Blaine’s reprehensible behavior, and wasn’t even aware of it until she found those emails, it would follow her around for the rest of her career. And it would change the perception people had of her, even if she was completely innocent of wrong doing.
People did not give the benefit of the doubt in cases like this. If the school and school board found out, she would be shunned, ostracized and penalized over what Blaine did.
And a part of her blamed herself. How could she have been so blind and foolish not to notice that there was something going on? She’d been so buried in her own work, and the planning of their wedding, she’d never questioned it when Blaine would be gone for hours and hours on the weekends, or come home late from school.
He’d always covered his tracks so well – coming up with elaborate stories about a snooty principal who was always taking him to task. Or a parent of one of his student’s that would show up unexpectedly and want to discuss the child’s progress or behavior.
She never questioned a thing. Why would she? She believed him. She trusted him. She loved him. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“Well, this situation with your late uncle’s bar must’ve thrown quite a wrench in your own holiday plans. Will you have to get back soon?”
The question was innocuous and one that you wouldn’t think would throw her for a loop. But in this case, Sloane had no idea how she would answer it. She wasn’t expected back to work until the middle of January due to the year-round school system calendar. She’d planned on having everything, or most everything, settled with the bar right after the holidays. Her personal life was another story altogether. She really didn’t have a clue how to handle the unraveling of her relationship and the cancelation of her wedding.
Sloane felt like a fraud sitting across the table from the extremely welcoming Dan and Dylan Hemmons. They’d been nothing but nice to her, and Dylan was turning into someone she could rely upon, especially when it came to the bar. And he also provided the much needed ego-boost to her psyche, which was appreciated after the devastation Blaine caused her heart.
She shrugged her shoulders. “I honestly don’t know.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Dylan’s eyebrows raised curiously.
“School doesn’t start back up again until mid-January. And well, there are some things…” Her hands clenched in her lap, the distress over having to share any piece of the reality physically crippling. “I may be taking an extended leave. I’m just waiting on some details before making the final decision.”
There. She said it. And it wasn’t a full-on lie. Maybe a lie of omission, but she’d be long gone before any harm came of it.
“An extended leave, huh?” Dylan’s voice told her he wasn’t going to let it go, but wouldn’t pursue it any further. “Well, that’s nice. I’m sure the bar and restaurant staff are appreciative of the help you’ve been providing them. My guess is they may have been worried over their jobs with a new owner, especially over the holidays.”
Dylan’s insightfulness astounded her. She hadn’t even thought about how Curtis, Donnie, Staci, and all the other personnel might have felt over the loss of Uncle Patsy. Just the fact that they could have been jobless made her own troubled thoughts seem banal and trite.
“Maybe you’re right. Although, I haven’t done much of anything for them. They’re a pretty tight and finely oiled machine. They would have been fine without me. But it has been kind of fun, learning about the business aspects of running a bar, and meeting new people.” She gave a pointed look at Dylan, his dark gaze shooting a ribbon of lust deep in her belly.
Was he thinking the same thing she was? The fact that chance had brought them together and created a connection that couldn’t be denied?
As if noticing the change in the atmosphere around the table, Dan stood up, clearing his throat as he pushed the chair back under the table. He took a look out the kitchen window, seemingly weighing a decision about his departure.
“Well, kiddos. The snow is coming down pretty heavy and I wouldn’t want to get stuck on my way home. I’m going to get going and leave you two with the rest of the clean-up.” He smiled deviously.
“Thanks a lot, Pops. Nothing says Merry Christmas like eating and running.” Dylan stood and slapped his dad on the back, heading out to the front coat closet to get his coat.
Sloane followed them out, a brief shiver of anxiety running down her spine, as she realized that with Dan’s departure, she and Dylan would be alone in his house. Together. On Christmas night. With the snow falling in mass, blanketing them in a white, ethereal magical world.
Being with Dylan had both a calming effect on her and an intensity that shook her world at its core. He was a decent guy, who surprised her with his sense of family loyalty, artistic ability, and most of all, a sexual prowess that could definitely get her into trouble.
“Well, Sloane. It was great meeting you. I’m very glad this ugly lug somehow managed to convince you to spend Christmas with us,” Dan chided, lightly punching his son in the arm. “It was our pleasure and I hope you endured it without too much pain.”
Sloane giggled as Dylan let out an “Ow.” They were so cute together. Father and son. And it was so obvious that they liked and respected each other. Dan Hemmons couldn’t contain his pride over what his son had accomplished, sharing stories over dinner about how brilliant Dylan was in his profession.
“Same here, Dan. Thank you so much for your hospitality and for welcoming me. You sure know how to show a girl what the Christmas spirit truly means.” Sloane leaned in on her tiptoes to give Dan a kiss on his bearded cheek, detecting a faint blush under all the scruffiness.
“Hey, now,” Dylan said, grabbing hold of her shoulders from behind and pulling her away. “Don’t be leading the old man on like that. At his age, you never know what might happen. He already thinks he’s God’s gift to women,” he scoffed sarcastically. Shaking his finger in his pops’ direction, Dylan continued admonishing him.
“And Pops, she’s like thirty years younger than you. Reality check, old man. Ain’t happening.”
They all laughed together, before Dan pulled her back into a bear hug.
“She’s a smart gir
l. She’ll realize what she’s missing out on soon enough.” He waggled his eyebrows as she smacked his burly chest.
“You’re both full of it. Now knock off your male chest-beating, caveman posturing around me, you goons.” She tried to hide her smile by shaking her head and rolling her eyes. “Men…”
Dan turned and walked to the door, Dylan following closely behind, as she waved goodbye and returned to the kitchen to finish up the dishes. She heard low murmuring, a sudden outburst of laughter, and then the door closing.
Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Sloane focused her attention on the soap suds in the sink, concentrating on working the dishrag against the stubborn grease stains that had formed on dirty pan. She felt his presence behind her and inhaled sharply. His masculine scent, paired with a light woodsy aftershave, did crazy things to her muddled brain. And her libido was on overdrive around him.
Sidling up beside her, he pulled a dishtowel from the rack and took the clean pan from her hands to dry it off.
“So yeah. That’s my pops. Hope we didn’t do or say anything to offend you.”
Sloane turned her head to look at him, caught once again with the intensity of his hazel eyes. It was like he had this ability to see right through her. Could read her thoughts and open the locks to her deep buried secrets of her soul. But it was those secrets she needed to keep hidden, otherwise he’d turncoat and leave her high and dry. And she really needed his friendship right now. And maybe even a short-term lover to help her lose herself for a while.
Shifting on her feet to look at him, she flicked a soap bubble at him. “He’s great, are you kidding? You two are hilarious together. That’s so cool you have such a close relationship. While I love my parents, there is definitely a boundary that we’ve never crossed. I would never consider myself friends with either my mom or my dad.”
“Sloane.”
The change in his tone of voice startled her, as she let the pan in her hands drop back into the sink, turning to face him. His voice was lower, with a deep intensity, drawing her attention back to his eyes.
Before she knew what was happening, Dylan moved swiftly to press himself firmly in front of her, trapping her against the solid mass of his body and the edge of the sink, caging her in with his arms.
“Can I tell you something?” he whispered, his head dropping to the crook at her neck, causing her to tilt her head to give him better access.
She waited, hoping her silence would be taken as consent. Finally, after what seemed like forever, she found her voice, which came out raspy with unbridled need.
“Yeah.”
There was only a breath of space between them, his mouth so close to the sensitive skin against her throat. He smelled so good, her body reacting to the invisible pheromones wafting through her senses.
“I liked having you in my house today. In my space.” His body moved closer yet, his sinewy thigh nudging against her legs, pressing them open. “It’s all I could think about, watching you tonight. God, Sloane…you’re so fucking sexy. All I’ve wanted was you…in my bed. With me. Letting me do wicked things to you…with you.”
Her temperature spiked and her breathing faltered. This man drove her wild. One moment he was thoughtful and goofy. The next he was like a feral animal, primal and looking to catch his prey. And his seductive words made her pulse race with excitement. No one had ever spoken to her like that. Ever.
If he was waiting for her to respond, he didn’t give her much of a chance before his lips laid claim to that spot underneath her earlobe, sucking the skin, his breath warm against her flesh. He grabbed her earlobe between his teeth, biting and tugging gently, making her suck in a breath. The action left her lightheaded, as her hands instinctively shot up to his shoulders, digging her fingernails into his flesh.
“Ohhh.”
He continued planting kisses down her neck, biting along the way, to the base of her throat, to her exposed collarbone, before he lifted his face back to hers. His eyes burned with unfiltered desire.
“I just want you, Sloane. I can’t stand it any longer. Forget what I’ve said before – I was just being stupid. I want a take-back, because I’m seriously about to go insane from wanting you so much. I’m so fucking hard for you.”
Although she’d felt what he confirmed evidenced against her belly, she couldn’t help that her hand moved with a mind of its own, reaching between their bodies, her palm covering the thickness cloaked in denim. She squeezed, eliciting a low growl from Dylan’s chest.
“Oh God…” she murmured, at the same time he groaned like she was causing him pain. She didn’t know what it was about this man that had her losing all inhibitions. She’d never been this bold or daring with Blaine.
A jolt of desire coursed through her when his erection jerked against her hand, prompting her to add more pressure. She rubbed along the zipper, feeling the hardness of his shaft. His desire for her.
“I want you too, Dylan.”
He let out a loud curse. “Thank mercy.”
Leaving the remaining dishes in the sink, Dylan bent his knees slightly, angling himself over her, his hands cupping her ass as he swiftly picked her up.
“Hang on.”
Sloane gasped at the ease in which he lifted her, as he hefted her up and over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold, carrying her up the stairs. She was not a small woman. She was five-six and had ample curves. But the way Dylan carried her, she could’ve been the weight of a small gymnast.
He made his way up the stairwell, careful not to jostle her or bump her, leading them both back to his bedroom. The room was dark, save the light from a small bedside lamp. They reached his bed and he easily set her down on the edge. For a moment they stared at each other, the longing edging darkly against the whites of their eyes.
One thing Sloane knew for certain, as her brain became clouded with lust. The man standing before her who had been driving her to distraction for the last week, was without question, going to make her forget every single horrible and retched thing that Blaine had done to her in the last thirty days.
She had no doubt that Dylan Hemmons possessed the power to send her into oblivion and straight out of her ever-loving mind.
Chapter Nine
As if he hadn’t just gorged on a huge holiday dinner, Dylan was starving. His body was famished for this woman in front of him. Every bone in his body yearned to feast on her body. To worship at her temple. To bow to her needs. He was in such a state of arousal, he didn’t even know where to begin.
With this level of need, Dylan had to make sure Sloane didn’t want to stop the ride before he went off the rails. “Tell me to stop, Sloane.”
She lifted her head languidly from the bed and smiled coquettishly.
“Not going to happen. You’re the Christmas present I’ve been waiting all year for. And I’ve been a very good girl.”
Dylan let out a loud groan, her words and the sound of her husky voice sending vibrations down to his groin. This girl wasn’t just his Christmas gift, but she was the angel on the top of the tree. She was a good girl. Angelic and pure as the driven snow.
Dropping to his knees, his hands stroked the leather-clad calves of her boots, slowly unzipping each boot and removing them from her feet one at a time. His hands returned to the back of her legs, trailing his touch up the outside of each thigh. Up and down. Relishing in the warmth from her body.
It took his heart rate up a notch wondering just how hot she’d be between her legs. The thought nearly had him seizing in rapture. His body burned with a leashed intensity that he wasn’t certain how much longer he could contain.
His fingers coasted up her long legs, circling once at her knees, pressing them open, and then smoothing over her thighs as he pushed her sweater up past her waist. His fingers inched underneath the waistband of her leggings, his knuckles brushing over the sensitive skin of her belly. Exposing the belly charm he’d been dying to set eyes on. She twitched underneath his fingers, a soft moan expelled from her
lips.
“This is fucking hot,” he confirmed, flicking it with his thumb. “A little hidden naughty on such a nice girl.”
He had to turn his head away to keep his composure. If he looked at her, he was certain he’d find her innocent and tempting eyes staring down at him, asking him for something he may not be able to give. This girl drove him wild and made him so freaking hot, and he was ready to make promises he may not be able to keep if he looked into her sweet chocolate eyes.
Dylan focused on his task, hooking a finger in the front of her leggings and tugged them down, her hips lifting on their own accord as he dragged the material down and off her legs.
His gaze returned to the center of her legs, and had he not already been on his knees, he would have dropped there from the sheer beauty of what he saw. A small strip of red satin covered her flesh, the dampness visible against the cotton panel, as his mouth hovered at the juncture. Shouldering between her thighs, he nudged her knees wider, his finger trailing up the seam of her panties. She bucked her hips off the bed.
“Oh my God, Dylan.”
The urgency in her moan had him wanting to bury himself balls deep in her that very instant. Instead, he leaned back on his heels, dropping his hands, and took a fortifying breath.
“You…you are going to be the best Christmas present I’ve ever received. Even if I don’t deserve it.”
Dylan’s hands slid back up the insides of her thighs, his fingers curling underneath the satin and dragging it across her wet flesh. He was stunned speechless. She was pink and dewy and bared to him completely.
“Look at you…” he said, the reverence falling from his lips. “So fucking gorgeous.”
Unable to stop himself, he bent low, his mouth covering her sex. He swore under his breath as he inhaled her heavenly scent. His hungry tongue darted out and slid through the slickness of her arousal. His eyes closed in rapture as he got lost in her intoxicating taste. One long, hard lick had her back bowing off the bed, arching under his touch, her hips screaming for more. He smiled against her opening, pressing his hand across her abdomen, gently restraining her from movement.
