Holiday Heat

by Janelle Denison

  Her face flushed hot with the first remark, and she was certain her cheeks remained pink as she went up and down the aisles. By the time she reached the checkout line and pushed her cart behind Dylan’s mother of all people, she was sure she had reached her maximum state of mortification.

  “Holly, honey, how are you?” Kate asked, as she placed her items onto the belt.

  “Just fine. And you?”

  “Good. Good,” she said, smiling. “About Dylan—”

  “Yes?” Holly asked warily.

  Because of her relationship with Dylan and all the time she’d spent with his family, she and his mother had remained close after he’d gone. By unspoken agreement though, they’d never discussed Dylan. Apparently that was about to change.

  “I’m so happy you and my son have made your peace.” Kate beamed, obviously unfazed that Dylan had been out all night at Holly’s.

  But Holly was even more humiliated than before. Not once last night had she given small-town gossip a thought, and since she and Dylan were both adults, she certainly hadn’t been thinking that his mother would notice his absence.

  She gripped the cart handle tighter, her knuckles white as she tried to acknowledge Kate’s comment without embarrassing herself further. “We’ve come to an understanding,” she said diplomatically.

  Better than admitting Dylan had spent the night in her bed, his big body wrapped around hers, his hands doing all sorts of sinful, erotic things to her. And she had more than reciprocated, relearning his body, what he liked, what he loved and what really turned him on.

  She shivered and forced a smile for his mother’s sake.

  Kate continued talking. “I told Dylan I expected you both for dinner tomorrow night. It is Christmas Eve, after all.”

  Before Dylan’s return, Nicole had invited her over but she hadn’t decided whether she’d rather be alone. “That’s sweet but I’m not sure what my plans are yet,” Holly hedged. She and Dylan hadn’t made any more plans to see each other, and she didn’t want his choices to be influenced by his mother’s command.

  But Kate waved a hand, dismissing Holly’s words. “Your mother would never forgive me if I left you alone on the holiday when she was with her sister. Besides, look at all the food in the cart. I’ll cook all day tomorrow. Dylan’s already agreed, so it’s settled.”

  Holly inhaled deeply and let the decision be made for her. “Then at least let me bring dessert.”

  “Nonsense, honey. You just spend time with Dylan and let me worry about dinner. Just bring yourself around four. Okay?”

  “Okay,” she said, knowing she’d bring something anyway. “I look forward to it.” Which was true. She’d love to spend the holiday with Dylan and his family.

  She just hoped Dylan felt the same way.

  Dylan returned from his meeting with the real estate agent on an all-time high. He’d found the perfect parcel of land and had already made an offer. If he closed his eyes, he could envision exactly the kind of house he wanted to build there. He returned to Holly’s, whistling as he rang the bell and waited for her to answer.

  She opened the door, a smile on her face that widened when she saw him. She wore casual sweats and a pink sweatshirt she’d cut at the arms and across the middle. With her tousled curls and lightly made-up face, she looked delicious, good enough to eat and definitely good enough to come home to every single day.

  He grinned and whistled louder.

  “Someone’s in a good mood,” she said.

  He stepped inside and swung her through the air before setting her bare feet down on the floor. But not before letting her slide down the length of his body and feel how much he’d missed her. “I’m just enjoying life.”

  She looked at him curiously, and her gaze narrowed as she studied him. “So just where were you that put you in such a good mood?”

  “I was Christmas shopping. For you,” he said, teasing her.

  “You were out doing something for me?” Her blue eyes twinkled with delight.

  “You bet.” He debated whether to tell her about the land now or wait to give her her gift until Christmas Eve, like in his dream.

  A chimelike ring sounded from the kitchen, drawing his attention. “I didn’t realize I left my cell here.” He thought he’d left it at his mother’s place.

  Holly nodded. “It’s been ringing all afternoon. I’m guessing voice mail picked it up.”

  He could hear the withdrawal in her voice, and he rolled his suddenly stiff shoulders. The last thing he needed or wanted was his other life intruding on the headway he’d been making with Holly, but he couldn’t afford to be out of touch for too long.

  He glanced towards the kitchen. “Let me check the messages and then we can talk, okay?”

  She nodded. “Sure. I’ve got some gifts of my own to wrap,” she said with a wink and left him alone.

  He grabbed a pen and a sheet of paper and retrieved his messages, jotting down notes of who’d called. Then he returned the most pressing messages.

  Holly entered the kitchen to find Dylan on the phone, pad and paper in front of him. She stepped inside, not wanting to bother him, but he gestured for her to come in, indicating she wasn’t intruding on a private conversation.

  Still, he was obviously absorbed in the discussion, and as she passed by the table, she saw he was noting figures and names on the paper, then tossing alternative numbers and people back at the person on the other end of the phone. He was animated and engaged, and it was obvious to Holly he loved what he did, down to what she assumed was negotiations on starring in a movie.

  She was as much intrigued by his business as she was dismayed by the realization that she’d never truly have him. Not if it meant him settling in their small hometown and leaving the glitz, glamour and business of Hollywood behind. If she’d held any illusions or hopes, they were dispelled that instant.

  Yet as much as the realization hurt, she’d never want to take something away from him that he loved so much. For the first time she understood what he meant when he said he’d left so she could pursue her dream and not resent him later on. She wouldn’t want him to resent her either. She cared too much. So she would gladly take all he offered now and be grateful for this time they shared. A time she intended to make the most of as soon as he got off the phone.

  While she waited for him to finish his call, she pulled a jar of Marshmallow Fluff out of the cabinet and a spoon from the drawer. She hopped up on the countertop the way she sometimes did when she was eating in a rush and feasted on her favorite snack.

  “Yes, yes, I’ll think it over and get back to you,” Dylan said, his deep voice interrupting her thoughts. He paused before adding, “No, I’m not calling Melanie back. My decision about this has nothing to do with whether she takes the lead female role.”

  Holly’s stomach jumped at the mention of the other woman’s name. She scooped a heaping teaspoonful of Marshmallow Fluff and stuffed it into her mouth for good measure.

  Meanwhile Dylan groaned. “Can you call Harry for me? I don’t care how much he hates you, I pay you to run interference,” he said and finally clicked off, ending the call.

  “My agent,” he said, turning her way. He shot her an apologetic look. “Sorry about that. It took longer than I thought.”

  She shrugged. “It’s business. I understand.”

  He rose and strode over to where she sat. “Do you picture me as a superhero?” he asked.

  “Would you have to wear tights?”

  He laughed. “Why? Do you have a problem with my legs?”

  “Nope.” They were as strong and powerful as the rest of him. But something told her that despite their banter, this wasn’t a lightly asked question. Rather, he was asking her opinion on his next role. “Wasn’t your last film more serious?”

  “You saw Last Dawn?”

  She forced a nod. Hard as it was to admit, she’d seen all his movies. She made it a point to go alone to the theater in order to spare herself questions, comments
and innuendo from her friends.

  “My guess is that now you’re worried if you go back to an action film or one based on a comic book character, you’ll be taking a step backward when it comes to being taken more seriously as an actor.”

  “How’d you know?” he asked, surprise evident in his tone. Yet by the warm smile and gleam in his eyes, he was obviously pleased she understood his concerns without him having to explain.

  “I watched the evolution of your work.” She stated the truth for his benefit alone. Admitting she’d followed his career made her feel even more vulnerable to him than she already was.

  “And what’d you think?” A muscle ticked in his jaw as he leaned against the counter beside her.

  She wondered if the insecurity she sensed was a figment of her imagination or if he really cared about what she thought of his work.

  She placed the jar down on the counter, pushing it out of the way. “Last Dawn was a real stretch,” she said of his portrayal of a convict on death row. “You showed depth and range. Real growth.”

  “And?” he asked, correctly sensing she wasn’t through critiquing him yet.

  “And taking a commercial role now could damage the new reputation you’re seeking to establish.”

  He leaned forward, his forehead close to hers. “You’re suggesting I turn it down?”

  She drew a deep breath, finding it hard to believe he’d need her opinion on something so important. “I’m saying you should think long and hard before agreeing. And—”

  “And?” he asked, grinning.

  “And the possibility of Melanie Masterson playing opposite you has nothing to do with that suggestion,” she said, forcing the words out on a rush of air.

  He tipped his head backward and let loose with a genuine laugh. “Nothing to do with it?”

  She shoved his shoulder with one hand, hating that he’d caught her feeling any jealousy at all. “Almost nothing,” she said.

  “You need to know she was a fling,” he told her.

  “A long-lasting one though.” She couldn’t help but state facts and hope he’d fill her in some more.

  He tipped his head to one side, studying her. “I was searching for something, trying to pretend she could fill a void…” His voice trailed off.

  His words reminded her of her own feelings about John and a distinct wave of guilt arose. She tamped it down. John had given her this time to figure things out, and from the look on his face, he already knew where her heart lay. She sighed and pushed thoughts of John out of her head, at least for a few more days. She’d promised herself this time and she needed to take it.

  Meanwhile, Dylan sat waiting for her reply. “I get it more than you know,” she murmured. “As for the movie, you have to know my opinion doesn’t mean a thing. I don’t know the business or the players. I don’t even know how important commercial success is to you.”

  In short, Holly thought, she was on the outside of his life looking in. She felt like a complete fraud offering her opinion at all.

  He stepped between her legs, his face inches from hers. “I beg to differ, babe.”

  His words caught her up short. “Why?”

  “Because of all the people in this world, you know me. You get me. My agent was clicking his teeth at the money involved, and my publicist would kill to work on a project like this.” He frowned, a testament to how few people in his inner circle had his own interests completely at heart.

  “And it goes without saying that Melanie would like to lasso me and drag me kicking and screaming to the studio lot since it suits her needs. So I have no one to turn to except myself. And you. If I didn’t want or trust your judgment, I wouldn’t have asked.”

  “Oh.” Her mouth had grown dry at his admission.

  Her heart squeezed tight at the possibility that just maybe he was placing her in a position of importance in his life. She was too afraid to ask.

  She’d rather reach out and enjoy now as she’d promised herself she’d do. And with him settled between her thighs, his lips inches from hers, he was in a prime position for her to do exactly that.

  Chapter Five

  Dylan 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 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 har
d 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, the telephone 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 from the phone call, 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.