Her Sexiest Fantasy (The Sexiest Series Book 2)

by Janelle Denison

  “She’s hurt, yes,” Mariah said softly, and with the strength of wisdom that came from knowing her sibling so well. “But I know Jade also loves you. The only way she’ll hate you is if you don’t settle things between the two of you.”

  He stared at Mariah, wondering how in the world he was going to accomplish that mission when Jade refused any contact with him.

  “Mariah,” the photographer called, poking his head through the archway. “I need your advice on a couple of shots.”

  “I’ll be right there, John,” she said, though she didn’t immediately head that way. Her gaze remained on Kyle. “She’s convinced you used her, that the journal of fantasies she’d written was all just a game to you. Is that what you want her to think?” she asked, then left him to ponder that question.

  Kyle’s answer was immediate and crystal clear. Hell, no!

  And then he groaned, realizing where he’d gone so horribly wrong. He’d told her he loved her, but he never said anything about wanting her in his life permanently. Never made her any of the promises she deserved.

  No wonder she thought he’d used her.

  Yet he had no idea how to make amends. He cursed the journal of fantasies, a part of him wishing he’d never laid hands on the damn book. But without it, he never would have known how warm and sweet Jade could be. Never would have known how good a woman’s love could feel.

  It was a catch-22 situation. That journal had been an essential part of their relationship. It had taken him to the heights of passion—and the depths of despair.

  The journal.

  An idea came to him then, and he smiled, experiencing the first glimmer of hope in a week’s time. It was outrageous what he was thinking. A long shot, really. But it was his only hope of repairing the damage he’d done.

  He was going to rekindle their relationship the same way it had begun two months ago.

  * * *

  The bulky package jammed into Jade’s mailbox fell to the floor the moment she opened the small metal door. Cursing the new mail-carrier-in-training on her route for overstuffing her box, she grabbed the rest of her mail before it fluttered to the ground as well. Since it was Saturday evening, she’d have to wait until Monday morning to file a complaint.

  Blowing out an aggravated stream of breath, and ignoring the package at her feet for the moment, she quickly skimmed through the mail in her hands. She paused when she came across a utility bill addressed to Kyle, her stomach clenching with dread. She’d been waiting for this to happen and knew the best way to handle the situation was to slip the envelope under his door when he wasn’t home, just like he’d done with hers. And at the same time she could return the key to his condo that he’d given her only days before their fight.

  She remembered thinking how thrilled she’d been by the overture, how hopeful she’d been about them, their relationship and their future. Now she wasn’t likely to need the key ever again.

  She couldn’t avoid Kyle forever, she knew, not when they lived in the same complex. But she wasn’t prepared to face him again, either. The first time was bound to be extremely strained, and emotionally charged, and until she figured out how to handle the awkward situation, she chose to take extra precautions to avoid him.

  She couldn’t imagine shunning Kyle, because they’d more than likely be neighbors for years to come. But reverting to the flirtatious, casual relationship they’d established before their affair wasn’t a possibility. She wasn’t sure where that left them…as acquaintances? That seemed so impersonal after everything they’d shared, yet too familiar when she forced herself to remember the way he’d manipulated her. She’d finally decided it was safest just to think of him as a Casual Elegance client.

  The anger and humiliation had faded over the past two weeks, leaving behind a hole brimming with aching misery. She wanted to hate Kyle, but her heart wouldn’t let her off the hook so easily. Despite what he’d done, she missed him. Missed the warmth and closeness they’d shared. And at night, she ached for his touch, and the way he’d make her come alive with a whispered word, a fleeting caress.

  But she couldn’t forget his deception. The silent lies. Couldn’t forget that he’d taken her private fantasies and intimate secrets and deliberately used them to seduce her.

  The way he’d exploited her was unforgivable.

  So why was she having such a difficult time accepting that truth?

  Not wanting to analyze the conflicting emotions that had been troubling her since she’d ordered Kyle out of her life, she relocked her mailbox and picked up the padded manila envelope on the floor. Heading back toward her condo, she glanced at the front of the package and frowned. Her name and address were typed on a plain white label, but there wasn’t a return address, which she found extremely odd. She hadn’t ordered anything recently through the mail, and even when she did she had those items delivered to the office because of her small mailbox.

  Once inside the privacy of her home, she dropped her keys and regular mail on her dinette table and tore open the flap on the mystery envelope. Curious, yet cautious, she dumped the contents instead of reaching blindly inside the package. An emerald green leather-bound journal landed with a distinct thump on the table.

  Jade’s heart leapt into her throat, then beat at a frantic pace that made her blood roar in her ears. Embossed on the cover in gold lettering were the names Kyle and Jade, along with the year. There was no letter attached, nothing to explain why she’d been sent this journal, though she didn’t need a note to know who it was from.

  Kyle.

  The tug-of-war of emotions she’d been trying so hard to control began to overtake her, wearing down her resistance against the man who had betrayed her. Try as she might to cling to any remnant of anger, her heart was unable to ignore the possibilities tied to such a gift. Despite being hurt, she wanted to believe in Kyle and what they shared. She wanted to hope.

  Picking up the journal, she opened the front cover. Written inside in Kyle’s bold handwriting was a short dedication:

  To Jade,

  To fill with a lifetime of fantasies and memories.

  Love, Kyle

  Feeling light-headed, she sank into the nearest chair and reread those words, not sure she understood their meaning, or what Kyle was implying. Idly she fanned through the sheets of lined paper, all of them blank until she came to the first page. She read the message Kyle had written there.

  You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of in a woman, but never knew I needed until you came into my life. I wasn’t looking for love, but unexpectedly found it with you.

  I see you as my best friend, someone who knows my deepest secrets, fears and failures and accepts me for who I am. I see you beside me as my wife, sharing my life and all the trials and triumphs that go with it. I see you as my lover, warm, passionate and sexy…a tiger through and through. I see you as the mother of our children, patient, loving and kind.

  I see us as a family. Growing old together. Sharing laughter and making memories. A commitment bonded with the strength of love and respect.

  I need you in my life, and in my future.

  This is my fantasy. I want it to be reality with you.

  Jade closed the journal and hugged it to her chest, the last line of his entry echoing in her mind and her heart. Emotions she’d tried so hard to suppress filled her empty soul until it ached and tightened her throat with tears.

  His entry was so simple, yet so powerful. There was no sappy apology, and he hadn’t begged, cajoled or pleaded with her. No, that wasn’t Kyle’s style. The fantasy was written in the same bold, straightforward way he approached life. The same daring way he’d pursued her—except this time he was risking his own heart, and the possibility of a final rejection.

  He was giving her a choice. No manipulation tactics, no demands, no coercion. He’d bared his soul, laying his feelings at her feet. It was up to her whether she accepted the gift he offered, or clung to the hurt and betrayal, and rebuffed his attempt to gain her
forgiveness, and her love.

  And she did love him. Enough to forgive him. Enough to believe he’d never, ever deliberately hurt her.

  Enough to admit he was nothing like Adam.

  She drew a shaky breath and stared down at the journal. The two men, and each circumstance, were incomparable. Adam had dominated and controlled her, physically and emotionally. Kyle had discovered through her fantasies, the vulnerable woman beneath the facade she presented to the rest of the world. He’d catered to that woman’s needs, gently coaxing, patiently waiting for her to gain the confidence she needed to break past her fears and trust a man again.

  Without the intimate knowledge her journal provided, she wouldn’t have let him close.

  And while Adam had scorned her and walked away from their relationship without a backward glance, Kyle was still around, fighting for her. For them, if his entry in the emerald green journal was any indication.

  Touching her fingers to the gold lettering on the cover, she absently traced their names. It was easier to cling to her resentment than to confront the truth. It was so much easier to blame Kyle than to face her fears. And it was too easy to hide behind fantasies than jeopardize her heart.

  But she already had. Her heart was already his. Now she risked losing Kyle.

  Unwilling to face a future without him, she stood and headed toward her bedroom, knowing there was one final thing she needed to do before she accepted Kyle’s gift. Withdrawing her burgundy and sapphire blue journals from her nightstand, she put them away in a floral packing box on the top shelf in her closet.

  It was time she stopped hiding behind her fantasies and accepted reality. And her love for Kyle.

  * * *

  He was going crazy, there was no other explanation for the faint scent of peaches that greeted him when he opened the door to his condo. For a moment he closed his eyes and stood there, just beyond the threshold, certain the scent that reminded him so much of Jade was an illusion and would dissipate once he entered his home. Unwilling to let go of his own personal fantasy just yet, he breathed in the heady fragrance. The essence wrapped around him, soothing and arousing at the same time.

  He hadn’t heard from Jade since sending the journal days ago, and though male instinct urged him to confront her and find out where he stood, he wasn’t about to push her into something she didn’t want or wasn’t ready for. The decision to accept him, to forgive him, had to be hers. And he had to trust in her enough to believe she would make the right choice. The only choice.

  Keeping that confident thought foremost in his mind, he stepped into his house, closed the door, and came to an abrupt stop again. His heart thudded heavily in his chest as he took in the scene before him.

  His small dining table had been draped with cream linen and was set for two with fine china and delicate crystal. A platter of shrimp, meats, cheeses, fresh fruits and croissants graced the table, along with a silver bucket of ice chilling a bottle of champagne. Soft background music played, and the drapes had been drawn, closing out the rest of the world. Two taper candles in the center of the table cast the room in intimate shadows, and he noticed that the emerald green journal was placed between the settings, opened to a blank page with a pen resting in the spine’s crease.

  His gaze gradually moved to another vision, this one of the woman who stood nearby. She wore a white, old-fashioned lace dress that fell to her calves in a feminine swirl of material, and gave way to soft, white leather lace-up boots.

  She looked like a dream. So much so that he feared that everything before him was an apparition. But then a tremulous sigh escaped her and she shifted anxiously on her feet, breaking the ethereal spell.

  “Hi,” she said, her wobbly, uncertain voice shaking him out of his trance.

  He blinked, and afraid to assume anything, asked, “What’s all this for?”

  A slight, nervous kind of smile touched the corner of her mouth. “I’m starting where your fantasy left off.”

  Oh, man. Elation filled him to near bursting. It would be so simple to close the distance between them, pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless. But there were still unresolved issues between them and he didn’t want the exquisite feel and sweet taste of her to distract him from what still needed to be said.

  He held her gaze, the gold flecks in her eyes glimmering from the candlelight. “Are you certain that’s what you want?”

  “More certain than I’ve been of anything in a long time.”

  “So, you forgive me?” he asked guardedly, part of him still afraid to believe.

  “Yes.” Her answer was strong and clear. So was the hopeful racing of his heart.

  He started toward her, slow and easy. “And you know I never meant to hurt you?”

  Her chest rose and fell with a deep breath. “Yes.”

  “And you know there’s nothing I can say or do that will change what I did?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  He stopped in front of her, and asked the most important question of all. “Do you believe I love you?”

  “Yes.” Her verbal response matched the breathtaking smile on her face. “Do you believe I love you?”

  “Yeah, I do,” he said huskily, humbled by that simple, precious gift. Love wasn’t something he’d had much experience with in his life, but it was proving to be a powerful, all-encompassing emotion. An emotion he wanted to share with the woman who made him so whole and complete. The one woman who’d made a difference in his life.

  Words were suddenly inadequate to express how he was feeling. He needed to show her…and did, by cradling the back of her head in his palm and lifting her mouth to his. His lips skimmed hers, soft and supple. Their tongues met, and he tasted warm, honeyed peaches and the flavor of forever.

  He dragged his mouth from hers, and looked into her eyes. “Ah, Jade, I’ve never felt like this before. Never dreamed I could want or need someone so much.”

  “Kyle—”

  He pressed his fingers to her soft, damp lips, not wanting her to interrupt him. “All my life I’ve avoided commitment and relationships because it was so much easier being alone. I had no one’s expectations to live up to, didn’t have to worry about trying to please someone—or worse, failing like I have in the past. I was so convinced I didn’t need anyone. But I do need you, Jade. I need the way you believe in me and accept me for who I am.”

  She pulled his hand away, understanding shimmering in her eyes. “I think we need each other.”

  He liked the way that sounded. A whole lot. “And I want things with you that I’ve never had. A future. A family.”

  A troubled frown marred her brow, and he smoothed his thumb over the wrinkle, but it didn’t go away. “What?” he asked, concerned. “You don’t want that?”

  She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “You really want children, even though you have a daughter that’s nearly an adult?”

  He chuckled, relieved. “I’d take a half a dozen if that’s what you wanted. I want babies, Jade. I want to watch them grow up and I want to be there for them like I’ve never been there for Christy. I’m the first to admit I wasn’t ready for a family at eighteen, but I think I’m ready now, and I want that, and I want it with you. Only you.”

  “Yes.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for another kiss, this one long and deep and packed with so much emotion it nearly brought him to his knees.

  When they finally came up for air, she pressed her palm against his cheek, touching him reverently. “I was so afraid of trusting you,” she admitted. “Afraid of being controlled again and losing my identity. But you complemented me in a way that no one ever has before, made me feel alive and more confident about myself.”

  “And what about your fantasies?” he asked.

  “I put them away, where they belong.” She smiled, the self-assurance she spoke of lighting her eyes. “I was hiding behind those fantasies, because I feared being manipulated again. But you’ve given me a greater freedom and c
onfidence to express myself, with no pretenses.”

  Grasping the hand on his cheek, he pressed a warm kiss in the center of her palm. “That’s the way it should be.”

  She sighed as he gently nipped at the sensitive pad of flesh just below her thumb, then soothed the playful love bite with his tongue. “It’s the way it is with you. You’re the only fantasy man and lover I’ll ever want, and our journal is the only one we’ll ever need.”

  He eyed the emerald green journal on the table. “It’s going to be a big job trying to fill it with fantasies.”

  She tilted her head back and laughed huskily, sexily, as her hand smoothed over the zipper of his jeans and lovingly cupped the fullness there. “Oh, I do believe you’re up to the challenge.”

  He groaned as his manhood swelled in her grasp. Maneuvering her closer to the table, he reached behind her and impatiently pushed the place settings, food and candles to the opposite end of the table, clearing a spot “It’ll probably be filled within a week.”

  She gasped, her eyes widening in surprise when he scooted her bottom onto the edge of the table. “Then we’ll buy another one.”

  Grinning wickedly, he moved between her knees and skimmed his hands up her calves, then beneath the hem of her dress, slowly pushing the material up her silky, bare thighs. “You know,” he began in a low, provocative murmur, “I’ve had this fantasy of making love to you on my dining table, all spread out for me to feast on…” He wiggled his brows lasciviously. “How does that fantasy sound for our first entry?”

  “Fulfill it, and I’ll let you know,” she dared impudently.

  He chuckled, knowing he’d never tire of this woman’s sass, her fire, her passion. “It would be my pleasure.” Grasping the sides of her very flimsy panties, he pulled them over her hips and down her legs, tossing them somewhere over his shoulder. But before he could touch her intimately, she caught his wrist and halted him inches away from his goal.

  “Oh, I almost forgot, Mr. Stephens,” she said, her voice a beguiling mixture of teasing charm and breathless need.

  He lifted a brow, playing along with her game. “What’s that, Ms. Stevens?”