If only it could be that simple.
As the thought floated through her head, two soft knocks echoed on the front door. Michael jumped up and flung the door open before Holly had time to register the sound.
“It’s Mr. Declan!”
Holly felt her stomach clench as Michael dragged Declan into the living room and showed him the LEGO set, chattering about his favorite superheroes. Jodi sat on the floor, holding her DVD, watching Declan with a curious, thoughtful expression; Holly saw the moment when the penny dropped.
Jodi hopped up and whispered in Holly’s ear. “It’s him, he was Santa! Mr. Declan was Santa!” She paused, thinking. “Oh my god. So that’s why you were so embarrassed.”
“I hope I’m not intruding on your Christmas,” Declan said, gently disengaging himself from Michael, handing him and Jodi each a neatly-wrapped gift. “You guys forgot these last night. Why don’t you guys open ‘em up while I talk to your mom for a second. Is that okay with you?” He addressed the last part to Holly.
Holly drew a deep breath and followed Declan into the kitchen, leaning her backside against the stove, staring up at the sexy, persistent man. “Declan, I—”
“Just listen for a second,” Declan said, touching his finger to her lips, quieting her. “This can work. It can. I promise. Just…give me a chance.” His dark eyes were hot on hers, rife with vulnerability and desire and nervousness and hope. It amazed her how much emotion she could read in his gaze, how much emotion he allowed himself to wear so openly.
How much emotion seemed to be focused on her.
“I...I don’t know.” Holly bit her lip, unable to look away from Declan’s dark, serious gaze. She lowered her voice. “I’m scared. I don’t want them to get hurt. I don’t want to get hurt.”
Declan slid his arms around her waist and drew her against him. She tried to resist, but she couldn’t. It felt too right, too warm, too comforting. He smelled of cologne and aftershave, and his hands were hot and strong at the small of her waist.
“Give me a chance, Holls. I won’t hurt you, or them. I swear. I’m not in this for anything quick or casual. Just open up for me.”
Holly shook her head, unable to speak. “I don’t know how.” She let her head rest on his chest, just for a moment. “I’ve been alone for so long. I don’t know—“
Declan smiled, tipped her chin up with his finger. “Then let me show you.”
He leaned in slowly, giving her time to back away. She didn’t, and his lips were warm and soft against hers. She melted into him, let her breath be stolen, let her heart open.
“Merry Christmas, Holls,” he whispered.
Holly smiled, feeling two pairs of eyes on her and Declan. She turned her head to see Jodi and Michael staring at her and Declan with smiles on their faces.
“Kids, I—“ She started.
Jodi interrupted. “Merry Christmas, Mom. I told you Santa would come through.”
Holly looked back up at Declan. “He did indeed.”
This time, she kissed him.
It was New Year’s Eve, and Holly felt naked. She’d picked the knee-length dress off the rack at Macy’s, and had even tried it on. In the fitting room it had seemed just sexy enough for her first date in nearly ten years, but not overly revealing. It was bright red, holly-berry red, and had a deep V-neck that showed a good bit of cleavage. The skirt flared around her knees like a pinup dress, and the back dipped down just past her shoulder blades. In the fitting room it had felt sexy and a little daring.
Now, clinging to Declan’s arm as they moved through the dining room of Maggiano’s, she felt bared, half-naked, exposed. She’d put on her only set of lingerie, a dove-gray shelf bra with red lace trim around the edges and matching hipster panties. Trouble was, she’d had the set for years, and had forgotten how prominent the bra made her breasts. Combined with the deep V neck, Holly felt like she was about to bounce right out of the dress with every step and flash the entire dining room. And, judging by the way more than one pair of male eyes tracked her progress across the restaurant, there was more than one patron who wouldn’t mind if that happened.
She focused on walking smoothly, on keeping the bouncing to a minimum. It wasn’t easy, because she was also wearing the tallest heels she owned, four-inch black stilettos that made her legs look long and shapely, and also made it hard to walk without flouncing.
When Declan had picked her up from her apartment in his sleek black BMW, his eyes had nearly bugged out of his head. Of course, Holly had been struck equally dumb by how delicious Declan looked. She was used to seeing him in jeans and button downs, so this vision of him was…enough to take her breath away. He was wearing black slacks that were so form-fitted to his long legs and narrow hips and firm ass that they had to be tailored to fit him. Once she got her eyes up past his trim hips and the defined bulge at his zipper, her pulse began beating all the harder. The cream cashmere sweater was thin and clung to his ribs and stretched around his arms, the cuffs tugged up just below his elbows, showing the rippling power of his forearms.
“You look incredible,” she murmured to him.
“Holly, I knew you were breathtaking, but…” he trailed off, his gaze raking slowly down her body and then back up.
She let herself take a step closer. “But?”
“But in that dress….Jesus, Holls. How am I supposed to survive dinner?” His hands spanned her waist and pulled her to him.
She let him tug her up against him, and felt her breath leave her in a slow sigh. She’d been careful with Dec so far, in terms of their physical relationship. They’d not really had much opportunity for anything else, honestly, as the only time outside work she had was late at night, which meant sitting on her couch watching movies together. And they’d done just that every night for the last week; they’d left work separately, discreetly, and he’d met her at her apartment. With Jodi and Michael sleeping only a few feet away, she didn’t dare let herself even think about more than a single, chaste kiss as she bid him goodbye. And Declan, being the man he was, hadn’t ever attempted to push things any further.
Okay, well maybe that wasn’t totally the truth. His hands had wandered every now and then, during the movie, sliding from her knee maybe just a little higher up her thigh than she should have allowed…and maybe that one time she may have “accidentally” let her blouse open a button or two…or three. And maybe she’d rested her hand a little closer to his zipper than was proper or safe.
But he’d always taken his cues from her and never done anything to make her feel prudish or uncomfortable, had never tried to push it with her physically.
She just…wasn’t ready for that, no matter how much she wanted him. And god, did she want him. She dreamed about Declan, and the more their late-night movies stayed mostly PG-rated, the naughtier her dreams had gotten. She’d even woken up on the cusp of climax, having been dreaming about letting Declan’s hands continue the way they’d drifted up her thighs higher and higher throughout the movie, until his fingers had been a mere inch from her core. In reality, she’d put her hand on his, and there his touch had remained, but in the dream she’d let her legs fall open a bit wider, and then a bit more, and his touch had moved to where she ached the most, and had found her to be damp and waiting for him. She’d woken up seconds before the dream had culminated in an orgasm, and had writhed in her bed in embarrassment and arousal. Eventually she hadn’t been able to take the burning ache any longer and had slipped her own fingers under the elastic of her underwear and had finished what the dream had started. It hadn’t been nearly the same, though.
Now it was New Year’s Eve, and Holly’s mother had volunteered to stay the night so Holly could go out with Declan. Neither she nor her mother had been willing to put the truth out there out loud, but they’d both known what her mother had really been offering: the opportunity for some privacy.
Holly had accepted readily, and called Declan with the news. She’d been circumspect, of course, saying only that her mothe
r had offered to stay the night so she and Declan could be out late, but she knew Declan had read between the lines.
Now she just had to decide whether her nerves were stronger than her desire.
Dinner was magical. Declan had bought an expensive bottle of wine, and had somehow managed to make sure Holly drank probably more than her fair share. The food had been decadent and indulgent, right down to the crescent-shaped lemon cookies, and then Declan was paying the bill, and this time Holly didn’t even bother protesting. She just smiled at him as he rose and extended his hand to her. She placed her palm in his and let him lead her to the front door, held her coat for her as she shrugged into it, and then took the passenger door from the valet and closed it after her himself.
The car was warm despite the winter cold outside, and the leather seat was warming under her thighs as the seat-heater kicked in. Declan pulled out onto Sixteen Mile and headed west, and when they were stopped by a red light, he turned his intense brown gaze on hers.
“So, Holly.”
“So, Declan.”
His smile was hesitant. “It’s ten thirty, now, and we could do one of a few things. We could go to a bar somewhere for drinks and watch the ball drop there, or if you’d prefer, I can take you home…or we could go to my place.”
She hesitated. Back to his place. God…was she ready? No, that was the easy, immediate answer. But…would she ever be ready? She wanted him, and she knew he wanted her. She wasn’t sure when she’d ever have this opportunity again, with him or with anyone. Hell, she hadn’t even been on a date with anyone since Nick left. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to even try, to give anyone a chance, even though she had been asked out a few times by coworkers and once by a cute young barista at Starbucks. And where would she ever find anyone as amazing as Dec? She wouldn’t, that was an easy answer.
So why was she hesitating? That was easy: Fear. She hadn’t been intimate with anyone since Nick, and only with a small handful of others before.
“Holly?” Declan’s voice interrupted her inner debate.
She started and blinked, and then twisted in the seat to look at Declan. His eyes met hers, slid down to her prominent cleavage, and then back up. “Sorry, I’m just…nervous, I guess.”
His brows drew down. “Holly, I don’t want you to think that I…expected anything when I invited you to my place.” He braked at a red light and turned to face her more fully. “I really like you, Holly. I love spending time with you, and I’ll be the first to admit that I’m insanely attracted to you. I’ll also admit I’ve had hopes that we’d get some time alone, but you don’t need to feel any pressure at all, okay? I want to do this at your pace. This whole relationship, I mean. Not just…tonight.”
Her heart twisted at how respectful and careful and considerate he was. “Dec, you’re…you’re amazing.” She leaned across the console between them and pressed her lips to his, tasted the wine on his breath and felt the soft strength of his lips. “Take me to your place. We’ll just…take it one step at a time.”
“Sounds good…” he breathed, and then his mouth captured hers and she lost her thoughts and her breath, until the car behind them laid on its horn, indicating that the light had been green for some time.
Declan’s hand stayed in hers as he drove them to an apartment in the heart of trendy, upscale Birmingham. It wasn’t the kind of apartment Holly had expected Declan to live in. She’d expected a fancy condo with a doorman, or a big house in a gated community. The space Declan led her to, however, was a small and cozy loft over a shop of some kind, warm with soft lighting and dark hardwoods covered by soft throw rugs, the kitchen and living room connected by an open floor plan, black-and-white photography on the walls, a cream leather couch and a deep armchair, a massive flatscreen TV and an elaborate surround sound system. It was a bachelor pad, but a clean and inviting one. The bedroom was truly a loft space, a circular stairway leading to a kind of balcony overlooking the kitchen and living room.
Declan locked the deadbolt behind them, and then took Holly’s purse from her and set it on the floor behind the couch. Holly kicked her heels off beside her purse, and then she froze as his hands reached around from behind her and slid down the zipper of the new NorthFace down coat her mom had given her for Christmas. He draped the coat across the back of the couch along with his own, and then spun Holly around to face him, his hands strong and gentle.
“You’re so beautiful it hurts, Holly.”
“Hurts how?” She asked, her voice faint.
His hands rested on her waist, his fingers digging into flesh. “Just that…you’re so beautiful I don’t even dare want you, don’t dare think I could ever have you. It hurts to think about how much I actually do desire you. Not just physically, though. I desire your presence, I desire your smile and your warmth and your kindness and your shyness. I want you, Holls.”
“I’m here, Dec. And I think you’re crazy for thinking I’m that beautiful. I’m really not. I mean, you’re the one who’s out of my league, here. I’m the one who has to keep pinching herself to make sure this is real.”
“Holly, Jesus, I couldn’t take my eyes off you the whole dinner. I can’t take my eyes off you right now. You worked for me for what, two years, before I noticed you? And now I can’t figure out how I never really saw you before then…and I keep trying to figure out how I’d go on with my life if it didn’t have you in it.”
“And what have you come up with?” She was curious, because she felt the same way.
Declan’s eyes heated, and his hands drew her closer, closer, until her hips bumped up against his and her breasts were pressed against his chest. “I haven’t come up with anything, actually. I’m hoping I won’t have to.”
Holly inhaled a deep breath and let it out, hating how shaky it sounded. She rested her forehead against Declan’s chest, breathed in his scent. “I’m—I’m honestly terrified right now, Dec. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m scared I’ll mess it up. I’m scared I’ll—I’ll freeze.”
“Holls, it’s okay. Breathe, just breathe. We’ll go slow. I’m sorry if I’m coming on strong, I just…everything I’m feeling is hitting me hard and fast, and—”
She shook her head. “I don’t mean about us, about our relationship. I mean, yeah, that scares me too, because everything I’m feeling for you is so much so fast, but…I mean this.” She curled her fingers into the silky cashmere of his sweater. “I mean, tonight. Being here with you, in your apartment. We both know why we’re here, Dec, and—I want it, I want you, I really do. I’ve had dreams about you, and keeping things PG between us at my apartment has been hard. But now that I’m here, now that we’re really here and we really have privacy and an entire night to ourselves, I’m just—I’m scared.”
His hands cupped her cheeks and lifted her face to his. “You don’t have to be scared. When I said we’d go slow, I meant this too. Nothing has to happen that you’re not totally ready for and comfortable with. I don’t want you to be scared. I just want you to feel…desired. Needed. Wanted.”
“I do…” she breathed, her eyes misting over and her heart clenching. “I do, so very much, every time you look at me. But I can’t help being scared, Dec. It’s been…so, so long. Since before Michael was born. That’s a long time, Declan. And…I’ve had two kids. I’m not a fresh young girl anymore, and—”
He silenced her with a kiss. Not a chaste kiss, not a playful kiss, not a hesitant or slow kiss. No, his lips devoured hers like he was starving for her, like he was aching for her, like she was water and he was lost in a desert. His hands kept her face pulled to his and his body pinned her back against the couch, his heat radiating against her and his hardness pressing into her softness. She could feel his heart hammering like a drum in his chest, as if he was as nervous as she was. Her hands, clenched in his sweater at his chest, uncurled and slid up, wrapped around the back of his neck and feathered in the soft black hair at his nape. She lifted up on her toes and deepe
ned the kiss, gasping into his mouth as his tongue slashed between her lips.
Declan’s hands left her face and went to her shoulders, and then down her arms, and then to her back. His fingers danced over her bare skin where it was revealed by the opening of the dress, and toyed with the tab of the zipper. Pulling her a step forward, his hands now explored downward until they came to a hesitant stop at the upper swell of her hips, and then his mouth left hers, left her gasping and staring up at him with parted lips and hammering heart.
“Tell me if this is okay, Holls. I don’t want to push you. I just…I want you. I can’t help it.”
She felt her blood rushing hot and wild, felt a frenetic need for him, a burning hunger. She stared up at him and felt courage gathering in her belly. “Dec…I don’t want you to be able to help it. I want…”
He dipped and nipped at her lower lip, kissing her as if sipping at a fine wine. “What, Holls? What do you want?”
“Push me, a little. Be gentle, but…Declan, it’s been so long and I’m scared, and I want you to…lead us…I guess. That sounds stupid, maybe. I just want you kiss me and not stop. I’m here because I want this, Dec. So…don’t stop.”
Declan backed away from her, tangled his hands with hers, and led her around the couch, walking backward to the spiral stair. He nudged her up the first step, and then she had to focus on navigating the steep spiral upward. She felt his gaze on her ass the entire way, and felt herself unconsciously putting a little extra sway in her hips. She glanced down at him, and saw that his eyes were indeed glued to her backside. So focused was she on the hungry, needy, appreciative look on his face that she missed a step, tripped upward, and felt her skirt fly immodestly upward, her hands catching the tread of a step.
Declan’s hands caught her hips, trapping the material of her skirt around her hips, baring her legs to the thigh, and the lower edge of her bottom. “Okay?” Declan asked.
The Naughty Boxset Page 4
