The Girl of His Dreams

by Susan Mallery

  She put her hand on his thigh and grinned. “How close?”

  The pressure of her fingers on his leg made his hardness surge upward.

  “My,” she said, sounding impressed. “I see what you mean.”

  He granted in response and pulled open the nightstand drawer. While he opened the package of protection, she moved behind him and pressed against his back.

  “Thank you,” she said. “For everything. For being wonderful and a great lover, and for making this exactly what I wanted it to be.”

  He slipped on the condom, then turned toward her. “Hey, it’s not over yet.”

  “I know.” She touched his face. “I just wanted you to know how I felt.”

  Some unidentified emotion tugged at his heart. He didn’t dare analyze it. Not now. Usually, he was able to hold a piece of himself back when he made love. He didn’t have to give it all. With Kayla, it was different. They connected in a way that terrified him, yet made him never want to be apart from her. What the hell did it mean?

  She stretched out on the bed and tugged at his hand. “Don’t look so serious. This is supposed to be fun.”

  He moved between her legs and dropped a kiss on her belly. “Yes, ma’am.”

  He stroked between her legs, savoring the heat and the moistness. She parted her thighs wider, closing her eyes as he touched her still-sensitive center. From there he moved down to the place that would accept him. Every part of him clenched in anticipation.

  For a moment, the magnitude of what they were about to do stopped him. He believed that, no matter what, they would always be friends, but this one act would change everything forever. It was a risk. He had to take it or not, and had to make that decision without knowing the potential price.

  “Hey.” She glared at him. “Don’t get weird on me, okay? There’s no way I’m going to spank you or call you a bad little boy.”

  He grinned. “Just one little swat?”

  “Patrick!”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll behave.”

  “Oh, don’t do that, either.”

  They stared at each other. The humor faded, leaving only desire. He looked at her face, her breasts, her belly, the scars, then at the place that would accept and pleasure him.

  “Now,” she pleaded, and raised her hips slightly.

  He entered her slowly. She was tight and wet, an unbelievable combination. He paused halfway and reached down to part her a little to make it easier. At his touch, she jumped.

  He glanced at her. Her eyes were tightly closed, her face was fierce with concentration. Not passion, though. He noticed the tension in her arms and legs.

  “Kayla?”

  “Please, Patrick. Don’t stop.”

  He moved in a little more. Slowly. As if waiting for some kind of resistance. As if—

  He swore silently and started to withdraw. Her eyes flew open, and she grabbed his left arm to hold him in place. “No! I want you to do this.”

  “You’re a virgin.”

  The statement hung between them. He waited for her to deny it, prayed she would. He wasn’t all the way in, but he suspected he would have already felt the physical proof. There wasn’t any, just a sixth sense inspired by her reaction to the intimate act.

  She took a deep breath. “Make love to me. I want you. I want you inside. I want to feel you in me. I want to know what it’s like.”

  “I’ve never been with a virgin before.”

  “Then we’re even. I’ve never been with a man. At least not all the way.”

  A thousand questions filled his mind. Why him? Why now? Why was she still innocent? Why hadn’t he guessed before?

  There were no answers. There was nothing but the pleading in her eyes and the painful arousal between his thighs.

  She braced her hands against the mattress and pushed her hips toward him. Slick tightness surrounded him, making him moan. She tilted her hips and made the decision for him.

  He moved in and out slowly, cautiously, determined not to hurt her. The questions disappeared as pleasure took over. He had enough awareness left to slip one hand between them and touch her center. He couldn’t return the gift she offered, but he could make sure she enjoyed the experience.

  Her body quickened around his. He thrust faster, feeling her muscles tense as he continued to stroke her. This time, though, he recognized it as coming from desire, not apprehension.

  Gritting his teeth, calling on every trick, every ounce of strength, he held back until she called out his name and her body convulsed. He plunged inside and let her contractions take him on a journey so incredible, so unique, it was as if he’d never made love before, as well.

  ***

  Kayla exhaled softly and rested her head on Patrick’s shoulder. His steady heartbeat soothed her, adding to the lethargy creeping through her body.

  She’d played around with other men before. While she hadn’t gone all the way, she’d experienced physical release. But this was different. Every part of her felt complete, as if a missing piece of her had been found. Contentment swelled up inside her, making her want to lie in his bed, in his embrace, forever. The slight ache between her thighs only heightened her awareness that something wonderful had happened.

  Making love had been better than anything she’d imagined.

  Patrick stroked her head, running his fingers through her curls, tracing the curve of her ears, brushing the underside of her jaw. As their legs tangled together and his touch soothed her, she wanted to purr like a well-fed cat.

  They had been such good friends that she supposed she should have worried that their becoming lovers would change everything between them. Perhaps it had, but not in a bad way. If anything, their connection was stronger. She looked inside, wondering about fear, but couldn’t find any.

  “Kayla?”

  She hovered at the edge of sleep, but his voice called her back. “What?”

  The hand on her hair stilled. “Why me?”

  Why Patrick? The question was reasonable. Why, after years of holding back, of not trusting someone else with her innocence, why had she given it to him?

  “I knew you’d make it right,” she said. “In this day and age, it’s sort of silly to sleep with just anyone, so I never did. Plus, I always worried about the scars. They’ve sort of faded, but they’re still there. I always imagined having to answer a lot of questions, which I didn’t look forward to. You already knew everything.”

  She paused and raised her head to look at him. Blue eyes met her gaze. She rubbed her fingers against his mouth. “I knew you’d make it special and right. I trusted you.” She gave him a quick smile. “I hope that’s okay.”

  He kissed her fingertips. “It’s more than okay. I was pleased, if a little surprised. It never occurred to me you were a virgin, but once I realized it, I couldn’t figure out why you hadn’t saved yourself for a prince.”

  His voice teased, but there was something cautious in his expression. Something that warned her that her response would matter to him.

  She wrinkled her nose. “Princes have virgins all the time.”

  “You know that for a fact?”

  “I suspect it to be true. A prince wouldn’t care, you would.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. She lowered her head back to his shoulder and absorbed the sensations of heat, strength and security. The moment stretched between them, a moment when her heart opened and waited. She waited, too. Waited for words to fill the silence.

  She didn’t know what those words would be, yet she found herself holding her breath in anticipation. She needed to hear them, to believe them. They would change her life forever.

  He stroked her hair again. “Kayla, I—”

  Her body tensed.

  “I’m going to miss you when you’re gone. I want you to promise you’ll always remember this night.”

  The air left her body in a giant rush. Her heart squeezed painfully, and her eyes filled with tears.

  Until he said he would
miss her, she’d actually forgotten she was leaving.

  But that wasn’t what caused her hurt. Instead, it was what he hadn’t said. Unspoken words could inflict lethal blows.

  “Kayla?” He shook her gently. “Do you promise?”

  “Yes,” she murmured. “I’ll never forget.”

  How could she? This night had changed her life.

  She remembered hearing a song a few years ago. A certain man had come into a woman’s life, but too late. She was already committed to someone else. He was, she told him in the song, the first time she’d thought about leaving.

  Patrick was the first time Kayla had thought about staying. That was what she’d wanted to hear. Not that he would miss her, but that he didn’t want to let her go. That he cared about her.

  Her mind shied away from the l word. She wasn’t ready to talk about love, let alone think it. Neither of them was in love. Except as friends.

  It wasn’t love that had her thinking about staying, it was the way she felt in his arms. As if, for the first time in her life, she’d come home.

  “You can’t go to sleep,” he said. “Not that I wouldn’t love your company, but I suspect Elissa is waiting up to hear the outcome of your experiment.”

  Kayla sat up and glanced at the clock. It was after one in the morning. “You’re right. I should have thought of that myself. She’ll be worried.”

  He kissed her gently. “She’s pretty smart. I think she has a fair idea of what happened.”

  It wasn’t until they were dressed and walking her to her apartment that she found herself tongue-tied. What was she supposed to say? Thanks for the good time? I enjoyed the sex? Can we do it again, soon?

  Nothing sounded right. She didn’t know the rules for post-lovemaking etiquette. She didn’t worry that she was never going to see Patrick again. After all, he was her boss, her landlord, her neighbor, and very much a part of her life. He wasn’t going to disappear. But would they continue to be lovers? Was it just a onetime thing?

  As they reached the stairs leading up to her apartment, she almost asked. But at the last minute, she bit back the question. It wasn’t fair to ask, when she didn’t have an answer herself. She didn’t know what she wanted.

  In a few weeks, she was leaving for Paris. Could she still do that if she was emotionally and physically involved with Patrick? Could she live with herself if she gave up her dream?

  At the top of the stairs, he turned toward her and took her hands in his. He’d pulled on jeans and a T-shirt. Stubble darkened his jaw. He was tall and handsome, and she ached to be with him again.

  “Thank you,” he said, his gaze intense. “For everything. I—”

  Instead of completing the sentence, he cupped her jaw, then kissed her. She parted to admit him, clinging to him, trying to put all her emotions, the joy, the confusion, the questions, into that one kiss.

  When he pulled back, he nodded ruefully. “Me, too,” he said, and she knew he understood.

  The front door opened. Elissa leaned against the door jamb and yawned. “Hi, guys. I heard you coming up the stairs. I’m not interrupting, am I?”

  “No.” Patrick smiled at her.

  Elissa raised her eyebrows. “Then everything worked out?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Good.” She looked at Kayla. “Want a couple more minutes of privacy?”

  Kayla shook her head. “Night, Patrick.” She kissed him on the cheek and stepped inside.

  He gave her a wave and started down the stairs. She watched him until he reached his house and disappeared from view. Only then did she realize tears were trickling down her cheeks.

  ***

  Ten minutes later, she curled up in a corner of the sofa. She tucked her bathrobe around her feet and sipped at the herbal tea Elissa had made.

  Her sister plopped onto the love seat and grinned. “Okay, I want details. Start with the moment he picked you up. And talk slowly. I want time to imagine everything.”

  Kay la drew in a breath and let it out. “We… There was this restaurant by the ocean, and we danced. I thought he thought I was you and, oh, Elissa, I’m so confused.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, determined not to keep crying.

  Elissa was instantly at her side. “Honey, I’m sorry.” She put her arm around her and pulled her close. “Hush, Kayla. You don’t have to tell me anything.”

  Kayla wiped away her tears. “I want to. I don’t mind talking about him. I, we, I’m not sure what happened or what it means. I don’t want to feel differently than I do about him. I want it to be okay. I thought it was, but now that he’s gone, I’m not so sure.”

  Her sister patted her shoulder. “The problem is that you’re the only one who hasn’t figured out how you feel about Patrick.”

  Kayla didn’t like the sound of that. “What do you mean?”

  Green eyes, exactly like her own, opened wide. “Kayla, you’re in love with him. If not completely, then almost.”

  Love? No. Not that. “We’re friends,” she said firmly. “We have been for years. If you’re talking about that kind of love, then okay, I agree with you. But romantic love— no way.”

  “Why is it so difficult to imagine?”

  Kayla set her tea on the coffee table and pulled her knees to her chest. “It just is.”

  “Fine. If you’re not in love with him, why are you so upset?”

  “I’m not upset!”

  Elissa stared at her with knowing eyes.

  Kayla grimaced. “I’m a little upset. We made love, and we’ve never done that before.” She didn’t bother mentioning she hadn’t done that before, either. “I don’t want it to change everything, but I think in my heart I know it will.”

  “He loves you.”

  “No. He doesn’t. He can’t. Not now.” She rubbed her temples. “I’m leaving, Elissa. After we turn twenty-five, I’m off to Paris. I’ve waited for this for years. I refuse to change my plans. I’ve earned this trip.”

  Elissa nodded. “No one’s denying that. You’re right, you have earned it, and you deserve it. But this isn’t about going to Paris, even though that’s what you want it to be about. It’s about something bigger. All your life you’ve been waiting for something wonderful to happen. You live in the future and not in the present. I suppose the accident changed everything for you. No one else can understand what you went through that year you were recovering. It was painful to watch your suffering, but not nearly as horrible as it was for you to experience it.”

  “That doesn’t matter now,” Kayla said impatiently. “The accident was a long time ago. I’ve grown up.”

  “Certainly, but you haven’t changed. Inside, you’re still twelve years old and trapped in a cast. What on earth is waiting for you in Paris? What could be better than this? You’ve got a job that you love. People adore you. Kayla, I spend my day wrestling with numbers and a budget. You spend yours making people feel cared about. You change lives.”

  “You make it sound so dramatic. I haven’t saved anyone. I’m not a doctor.”

  Elissa smiled sadly. “You save their souls. Isn’t that more important?”

  Kayla shrugged. Her sister made her sound like a hero, but it wasn’t true. “Anyone can drive dogs around to visit seniors, or sick kids.”

  “Sure, anyone can, but who else bothers?” Elissa leaned forward. “You have two sisters who love and respect you, a wonderful man who’s crazy about you. If you want to go to Paris, then go. But realize that dream has a price. You’re leaving a lot behind, and there’s no guarantee it’s going to be waiting for you when you get back home.”

  “You guys will be here,” Kayla said, trying not to imagine her life without Patrick. Even so, she could feel the bone-chilling coldness of an empty world.

  “Stubborn brat, of course we’ll be here, but that’s not what we’re talking about. Listen to me, Kayla. Life isn’t a dress rehearsal. It’s the real thing. If you don’t learn to live in the present, if you don’t stop ignoring what’s
right in front of you and constantly reaching for an impossible dream, you’re going to wake up and realize you missed out on everything you could have had. And you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”

  Kayla didn’t like what her sister was saying. “I know you think you’re helping, but—”

  She broke off when she saw tears in Elissa’s eyes. Her sister turned away, but not fast enough. Now it was Kay-la’s turn to offer comfort.

  She touched Elissa’s arm. “Cole,” she said softly.

  Elissa nodded. “Thinking about you with Patrick brought it all back. You’d think after all this time I could let it go.”

  Kayla remembered her sister’s brief marriage to Cole

  Stephenson. The hotshot young attorney had swept Elissa off her feet and taken her to New York. Elissa had been barely twenty, so in love she left her sisters and college willingly. Less than a year later, she’d returned. She never talked about her marriage, but Kayla and Fallon had seen the shadows in her eyes and the pain behind her smile.

  “You’re not over him?” Kayla asked.

  Elissa shook her head. “I want to be. I should be. The fire burned so hot between us. Too hot. It burned itself out. Something like that isn’t easy to let go.” She wiped her face and managed a crooked grin. “Sorry. This isn’t supposed to be about me. You’re the one with the problem.”

  “I’m fine,” Kayla said. “I just need to think this through. A lot of what you told me makes sense. I do need to live in the present and not the future. But does that mean giving up my dreams?”

  “Not if you’re sure your dreams are what you really want, and not some leftover fantasy from your childhood.”

  Was Paris a fantasy? Part of the fantasy of being swept away by a handsome prince? If love wasn’t like a tornado, then what was it?

  “I don’t know what to do,” she admitted, feeling helpless. “Which path is right for me?”

  Elissa kissed her cheek. “Only you can answer that.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Patrick and Kayla stood at the edge of the construction site.

  “I can’t believe how quickly everything is moving,” she said, pointing to the metal-reinforced framing growing out of the concrete foundation.