by Sylvie Fox
As if she had called his name, he turned and saw her. Their eyes locked before his slid right to notice Ryan. Holly thought she saw a flash of anguish in his wince, but she ignored it. She wasn’t prepared to deal with what her actions did to Nick. He put down his drink. After a very brief conversation with a couple of his friends, he strode over to them.
“Can we talk for a second?” Nick demanded without any fanfare.
Sensing that the conversation they were about to have was for their ears only, Ryan took that opportunity to step outside. “I’ll just arrange things with the valet. See you in a few minutes.”
“What’s going on?” Nick pressed.
“There’s nothing going on. Or everything. I don’t know. My friends suggested I start dating, seriously, again. So here I am on a date with Ryan.”
“Is that his name?” Nick asked, his jaw clenched in an obvious attempt not to grind his teeth.
“Yes, Nick. That’s his name,” she explained as if she were speaking with a stubborn toddler. “I don’t know why you’re so angry. We decided that our situation has no strings.”
“You decided, Holly. You. That would not be my choice. I’ve never denied that I want you. All of you.”
But for how long? Holly asked herself, wisely keeping that question to herself. Nick drew closer, obliterating the sight of others in the restaurant. He leaned his left arm against the wall behind her, shielding her from the rest of the bar and restaurant patrons. With their intense focus on each other, the sound receded as well. He grasped her hand in his.
“What do you want me to do?” she asked.
“I can’t deal with the idea of you seeing other people. Can we just be monogamous while we’re together, no matter how long that is?” When Holly didn’t respond, Nick pulled his car keys from the front pocket of his form fitting jeans. “Come home with me now. We need to talk about this.”
“Nick, I don’t know if there’s anything else to say.” Her eyes flickered in the direction of the front door. “Plus, I’m on a date here.” Holly whispered, lowering her voice so it was barely audible as Ryan approached. “I owe it to him to see this night through.”
Ryan cleared his throat, overhearing them anyway. Nick dropped his hands and stepped back from Holly, their intensity broken. “Holly, you don’t owe me a thing. I had a very nice time, but it looks like you have your hands full. So I’ll see you at work sometime,” he said graciously. To Nick, he said, “You’re a really lucky guy. Make sure you get her home safely.” With that, he turned on his heel and headed toward the line of shiny late model cars the valets had lined up for patrons leaving the restaurant.
It was two long, deserted blocks to Nick’s car, parked in one of the studio lots. They covered the ground in electrically charged silence. The drive back to his place was as quiet as their short walk had been. Holly shifted uncomfortably in the seat and stared out the window to avoid making eye contact with him. Nick didn’t seem exactly happy, and part of her was starting to feel guilty, but for what, she didn’t know.
Reluctantly, Nick pulled his eyes away from Holly. He wished he knew what she and that Ryan guy were talking about so intently, their heads bent together. Though her “date” tonight with Ryan didn’t seem too serious if the guy was willing to leave so quickly. He shook his head. The guy didn’t even put up a fight. He wasn’t good enough for her.
Nick needed to pay attention to the road. But she looked fucking incredible. It stuck deeply in his craw that she’d dressed up for another man. The dress molded to her pert breasts and her curvaceous bottom, leaving little to the imagination. She had dusted her skin with some kind of powder that made it shimmer in the moonlight, giving her an ethereal glow.
Nick wanted nothing more than to unbuckle her belt, pop her buttons, and feast upon the delicate flesh. Even if a committed relationship were out of the question, he knew that monogamy was not up for debate. He’d never thought of himself as particularly possessive, but the idea of sharing her made him feel downright murderous.
“Come with me,” Nick said, holding out his hand after parking the car in the garage.
“Nick?” Holly said questioningly, shrugging awkwardly.
“Holly, we’re adults, and inside my house is the best place to sit right now and talk this out.”
She looked wary, but took his hand.
Inside, Nick removed the purse and scarf from her hand and dropped them unceremoniously next to the cold hearth. Abandoning conversation, and not waiting for an invitation, Nick leaned Holly against the wall and kissed her, releasing the passion that had bottled up for the last week. The kiss was hard, sexy, passionate—his tongue sought and gained entry. Holly hesitated only for a second before giving into his heat.
Pulling back from the kiss, he leaned his forehead against hers. The echo of their heavy breathing was the only sound in the almost empty room. More than the physical, which he could see, hear, feel, Nick craved verbal confirmation that his feelings weren’t one sided.
“Do you feel what’s happening between us?”
Nick did not wait for an answer. Instead, he cupped her bottom and lifted her to his hips. Holly’s legs reflexively wrapped around his waist—her center meeting the ridge of his straining erection. He needed to show her how it was for him. Looping her hands tightly around his neck, seeking his mouth, Holly only nodded in response to his question.
Nick acceded to her silent entreaty and kissed her. When he broke the kiss a second time, he carefully carried her upstairs and deposited her on the king size bed, her hair spilling over the footboard. He didn’t turn on the bedside lamp. He could see all he needed to in the moonlight that caressed her glowing skin.
Nick finally gave in to his desire to unbuckle the wide belt that encircled her small waist and undo the gold buttons that fastened the tiny dress she wore. He almost lost control right then when he realized she wore the sheerest lingerie he had ever seen. The filmy gold fabric did little to hide her erect nipples or the dark triangle of hair that covered her sex. He only wished she’d dressed this way to entice him and him only.
All thoughts of anyone other than Holly flew out of his mind when he felt her small fingers deliberately grasp his penis through his jeans. Even with layers separating her hand from his pulsing flesh, her touch almost sent him through the roof. All bets were off. He suckled at one nipple through the silk of her bra while his hand strayed below the band of her gold thong, touching the dampened curls. Her mewling cries spurred him on to stroke her.
His fingers parted her nether lips and stroked the hardened bud he found there, while he pulled the bra away from her breast with his teeth and gently bit her nipple. She bucked, and her hands frantically pulled at his belt, his button fly jeans, and his boxer briefs until she reached the heart of him. He alternated between licking, biting, and blowing on her engorged nipples, all the while stroking her clit.
“Nick,” she cried out. “I can’t hold back, I’m going to come.”
Nick didn’t stop, didn’t let up. “I want you to melt for me.”
And melt she did. Her legs held his hand in a vice like grip as spasms rolled over her in waves. When her moans subsided, Nick shucked his own clothes and sheathed himself in a condom from his bedside drawer.
“Oh God, that feels so good,” Holly moaned as he filled her.
Interlacing their fingers above her head, Nick slowly thrust into her, then retreated.
“You’re so unbelievably tight,” he breathed. “You fit me like a glove. It’s so… perfect.”
He looked down at her, lit by the moon. Her small breasts quivered with each thrust, the nipples beaded. She bit her full bottom lip, tossing her head from side to side. He had to have her for more than just tonight. Watching her, being inside her, the stimulation was so intense he could feel his balls quiver. It took everything he had not to come right away. When Holly wrapped her feet, still clad in those sexy strappy, golden sandals, and her yoga toned legs around his waist, it changed the angle of
their joining. He lost all control. He pistoned into her and she met him thrust for thrust. When her internal muscles quaked and milked him, he let go, and she came a second time, their cries mingling in the still air.
When Holly reached to turn on the only bedroom lamp, Nick grabbed her hand. He wasn’t ready for her to see the color of the room. It revealed more than he wanted to share just then. He was thinking long term. But she was acting like a scared rabbit and he didn’t want her hopping away in fright now that he had her here.
“Leave it for now. I like to look at the lights in the hills.”
Holly tentatively scooted to the far edge of the mattress and leaned against the headboard. Nick sat naked and cross-legged on the bed, facing her, the nighttime shadows dancing across her face.
“Look, I’m not going to beat around the bush. I want to see you, Holly, more than once every few weeks or days.”
“Nick, we’ve gone over this. I’m not ready for a relationship. You’re too young, and I’ve seen too much of the world,” she protested. “You’re a really nice guy and all that, but I don’t know if we should continue to see each other.”
Nick ran a single finger down the soft skin of her arm. Holly shivered, her nipples standing to attention.
“Your body says different.”
Holly pulled the duvet over her knees and under her chin in an apparent effort to hide her traitorous breasts from his gaze.
Nick brushed her hair behind her ears and shoulder. “You don’t have to hide yourself from me, Holly.”
“I don’t think we should be together if we don’t have plans for anything long term. I don’t want to just pass the time. I really need to start working on my future,” Holly said.
“What future are we talking about?” Nick asked, trying to keep a pleading note out of his voice. “Why can’t I be a part of that future?”
“We’ve been over this before. You’re twenty-six. I was already in first grade when you were born. We didn’t grow up watching the same shows, listening to the same bands. Here’s a good one: My prom song was a Whitney Houston’s ‘I Will Always Love You.’ What was yours?”
Nick had the good sense to act abashed. “I think it was some Britney Spears song,” he said with a wry smirk.
Holly rolled her eyes. “It’s not just those trivial differences, Nick. I’ve been married and divorced. I want to be married again—’til death do us part’ this time. I want children, to grow old with someone. The usual things women my age think of when we hear the biological clock ticking.”
“But you can’t deny our chemistry. That has to be good for something. Give us this chance, Holly,” Nick said. He surreptitiously crossed his fingers out of her line of sight. “We should be able to work out this hunger for each other. Give us until Thanksgiving at least. That’s all I ask.”
Holly wanted to agree; he could see it in her downcast eyes. She nodded almost imperceptibly. He grabbed her free hand in a fierce grip, triumphant.
“We have to see eye to eye on very specific ground rules, Nick.” He half expected her to pull out a lined pad and paper, except, like him, she was naked.
“I couldn’t agree more,” Nick said. “The first rule we have to establish is that we’re monogamous for as long as we’re together. I can’t tolerate you seeing anyone else.”
“Okay,” Holly agreed, slowly. He hoped she couldn’t imagine sharing him with anyone either.
“What else, Holly? I’ll do whatever you want to make this work.”
“No staying over. I prize my alone time now. I don’t want either of us feeling obligated to stay the night. No reason pretending it’s something it’s not.”
Crossing his index and middle fingers even tighter behind him, Nick agreed to that condition. Subsequently, he also agreed not to talk about feelings and not to discuss the future. Except for the monogamy rule, he did not intend to follow any of them. But to be with Holly, to get her to consider being with him for keeps, he’d do anything to have the time to convince her that they could be right for each other in many more ways than just in bed.
Chapter Seven
Phone calls weren’t against the rules. It was a huge oversight on her part. Holly didn’t have to check the caller ID to know it was Nick when the phone rang at nine-thirty on the third Friday night in October. She’d never thought a man could affect her so deeply without even being in the room.
Every single night after her abandoned date, without fail, Nick called. It was as if he were a devoted boyfriend, not her interim lover. Sometimes when he called, they would talk about her day. Other times, he would ask about her work. The most difficult conversations for Holly were when he would ask about her hopes and dreams. Every time Nick talked about the future—his, not theirs, she had to remind herself—Holly felt like a fraud.
If Nick were her Mr. Right instead of her Mr. Right Now, she would welcome his attention. Who didn’t want a man who wasn’t commitment phobic? But with someone who was only temporary, the last thing Holly wanted was to rely on him, get used to him, need him, if he was only there for sex in the moment.
Almost daily, Holly struggled to strike the right balance between friends and lovers when she and Nick were together, or even when they weren’t. More and more it seemed Nick acted like theirs was a traditional boyfriend/girlfriend relationship, after they had both agreed it wasn’t going to be like that. When she felt Nick was getting too close, she’d invite him over and screw his brains out. It always distracted him from any kind of deeper or more meaningful conversation. Who could discuss feelings during a screaming orgasm? Still, a once great friendship now tinged with hot, sweaty sex disconcerted Holly.
“Hi, Nick,” Holly spoke into the phone late one night by way of greeting.
“Holly, did you work out that problem with the Korby Center?”
She should not have been surprised that he remembered. She was learning that he was that kind of guy. For weeks, she had been having trouble recruiting volunteers for her company’s project at the not-for-profit Korby Center. And D-Day was tomorrow.
Because Korby’s board of trustees had already publicized the project in their donor newsletter, Holly now felt more obligated than usual to live up to Equia’s reputation as a generous community donor. One of Korby’s trustees had even confided in Holly that their donations had skyrocketed when their benefactors found out Equia was working with the center. The volunteer effort had to be successful.
“I’ve enlisted the president to send out an email requesting volunteers. I think there’s a good chance that we’ll get a bunch of people that way—though I haven’t gotten many people on the email invite.”
“I know it will work out,” Nick said. “You can count on me if you need an extra hand. I’m sure I could also recruit a few kids at Esperanza Nueva. The dean there is always encouraging the students to give back to the community.”
“I may take you up on that,” Holly said. Switching gears, her voice became throatier when she asked, “Do you want to come over now?”
There was a pause on the line. For a moment, Holly worried, as she did every time they spoke, that he may reject her overture, that the time before was the last time; but then Nick spoke again, his voice as husky as hers. “I’ll be over in about a half hour,” he growled into the telephone before she heard it clatter into its base.
“See you then,” Holly said to dead air, then disconnected the call.
She waited but pretended not to wait for him. Showing him her naked desire made her feel vulnerable—and pretending not to want, not to crave him, was the easiest way she could think of to protect her heart. Today her disguise was in the form of a woman’s magazine.
While the minutes ticked by, she mindlessly flipped through the magazine, skipping the articles on how to catch a man—she had one man too many, by her count—and how to have multiple orgasms, since that wasn’t a problem with Nick. In exactly thirty minutes, not one second later, Nick’s car door shut with a resounding thud. She looked up f
rom her magazine, feigning disinterest, in case he could see her through the living room window.
Damn, he looked good enough to eat. He was wearing the sexy-as-hell bomber jacket she loved over a trendy, tight-fitting thermal that only emphasized his sculpted chest. The well-worn jeans, thinning in all the right spots, molded to his frame, leaving little to her imagination.
She had thought their “relationship” would have petered out by now. Surely, there were hordes of twenty-something hotties he would like to get with, waiting in the wings. But if there were, he didn’t seem interested. Not that she could blame him, because she hadn’t fully dedicated herself to her dating project either—finding her Mr. Right, a guy ready to settle down with her, have a family.
They had agreed on monogamy, but if she found the perfect guy… well, her biological clock was ticking. It was just that right now, the sound was muted by her desire for Nick. Being with Nick felt so wonderful, she wasn’t ready to give him up quite yet. Maybe in another three weeks, or three months, they’d be ready to go their separate ways. The smoldering look in Nick’s sage green eyes told her tonight wasn’t going to be the night they called it quits.
Before she could close the door, his hand caught in her hair. Their mouths fused, seeking release in one another. When they broke apart to catch their breath, Holly vaguely registered the duffel bag Nick dropped on her living room floor as he pushed her door shut.
All she could think of was how quickly she could remove his clothes and get him to her bedroom. Though they had been together three nights that week already, their coupling was still frenzied, full of savage hunger. She couldn’t get enough of him to fill her.
While he unzipped her cashmere cardigan, she pushed his jacket from his shoulders, molding her hands to the rock hard muscles of his chest, shoulders, and back. She gasped when his hands cupped her breasts, unfettered under her thin tank. They broke apart momentarily.
