by Toni Blake
That’s it—it’s hopeless. And over. I blew it and it’s too late to fix it.
“Damn it!” she groused. Then she kicked the wall, and watched as the shelf above the phone came tumbling down, neatly spilling all her cookbooks into the kitchen garbage can.
And from outside, she heard a blast of loud music that grew nearer and nearer until finally it stilled—right next door.
He was home.
And she had a broken shelf.
Perfect!
***
Derek tried not to even glance at Holly’s house. He’d somehow ended up feeling guilty for turning her down so abruptly this morning. And she’d stayed on his mind all damn day.
He’d thought about last night. He’d thought about her soft lips melding against his, her delicate tongue rolling in sensuous circles inside his mouth. He'd thought about her breasts, so firm and plump in his hands, her nipples taut and inviting. He wished he’d gotten to kiss them.
But he wasn’t going to think about her anymore. And he wasn’t going to see her again. No matter how much his heart wanted him to.
He’d gone to the cemetery after work and taken a nice late summer bouquet for the vase on Aunt Marie’s headstone. He didn’t believe in standing around talking to graves, but he’d stayed for a little while and somehow felt the way she always used to make him feel—a little less alone in the world.
Then he’d stopped at the grocery store and picked up some milk and a five-pound bag of food for Claws. He’d found some that said it was especially for kittens.
Exiting the truck with his milk and cat food, he headed inside.
***
Holly waited. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty. She didn’t want to look like she’d been spying on him out the window, calling as soon as he got home. Though remembering the bag of cat food he’d toted under his arm brought a soft smile to her face.
Then she decided to wait even longer, so she made a sandwich. Then she ate it.
Then she decided to change clothes, which was tricky. What should she wear? Everything she owned looked so much like…well, like it belonged to a schoolteacher. She wanted him to forget that boring, pristine side of her and see someone new. But she also didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard.
She finally decided on a pair of faded jeans and a white sleeveless summer blouse. For a twist, she tied the blouse in a knot at the waist. It looked casual, like she was just cleaning the house or something. But it also showed just a tiny bit of tummy.
Forty-two minutes after Derek had come home, she finally picked up the phone. Of course, by then she was nervous. She felt like she was calling to invite him to the prom. “Grow up,” she whispered to herself. That’s exactly what I’m trying to do here.
Holding the slightly soiled business card he’d given her when they’d met, she ran her finger over the raised letters that spelled out Derek. How girlish it felt to derive joy just from touching his name that way. Silly, but this time in a better way.
Gathering her courage, she dialed the number on the card. And trembled as she tried to breathe. “Relax,” she instructed herself as she listened to first one ring, then two.
He picked up on the third. “Hello.”
“Derek? This is Holly.”
“Oh.”
Well, okay then. She suddenly remembered why she’d always hated talking to boys on the phone—it was so difficult to gauge reactions when you couldn’t see someone’s face. Was that a pleased oh or a disappointed oh?
She took a deep breath and went on. “I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”
“No. Just watching some TV.”
“Well,” she hesitated, “the reason I’m calling is…my shelf fell down.”
“Your shelf fell down,” he repeated. She was starting to feel stupid.
“And so…I was wondering if you might be able to help me put it back up…sometime.”
On the other end of the line, he hesitated, and Holly’s stomach started to hurt. This had been a mistake.
Finally, he said, “Well, how about…now?”
Okay, maybe not a mistake. Maybe. “Sure,” she said, trying to sound very easy-going about it all as her body betrayed her with an explosion of tiny all-over tingles. “Now’s…good.”
“Let me grab my toolbox,” he said, “and I’ll be over in a minute.”
Holly hung up the phone nearly in a state of panic. She hadn’t even been this nervous last night when he’d been kissing her and touching her and kneading her breasts. It felt different now, because last night had evolved naturally, unexpectedly—and tonight, she was inviting him over with the definite intent to seduce.
Then it hit her. I’m planning to seduce a man!
Was she crazy? What made her think she could pull off such a thing?
And especially with that man—a man who seemed very capable of seduction on his own. He’d clearly been around the block, and she, by comparison, seemed afraid to even leave her own yard.
But it was too late to back out now. And besides, she’d been upset all night and all day about having ruined things with him, so she must really like the guy. And must really want the guy, too.
“Be a grown-up,” she told herself one last time. Then the doorbell rang.
***
Derek stood on Holly’s front porch, waiting.
His heart had flip-flopped when he’d answered the phone and found her on the other end. He couldn’t help feeling relieved to hear she’d only called about a broken shelf. And at the same time, he also couldn’t help being disappointed that that was all she wanted.
Not that he had any interest in resuming their very brief relationship. He didn’t. But on the other hand, it was hard to consider Claws very good company when he knew Holly was right next door being gorgeous.
“I can do this,” he told himself. “I can have a nice, neighborly, platonic relationship with her.”
“Hi,” she said, smiling as she opened the door to let him inside.
Geez, he prayed she hadn’t heard him talking to himself.
And since when did he talk to himself?
Since meeting her.
“Hi,” he replied. Stepping into the living room, he tried very hard not to look at her. He tried not to see her flowing hair. Or her sparkling green eyes. Or the delectable hint of white tummy between her blouse and her blue jeans. God, she looked good in blue jeans.
“Thanks for coming over,” she said. “It’s in here, in the kitchen.”
She led and he followed.
“Darn thing just fell off the wall a little while ago.”
Derek surveyed the situation. “This shouldn’t take long to fix,” he told her.
And Holly surveyed him. He wore khaki cargo shorts and a plain T-shirt like the ones he wore to work. The shirt afforded Holly a delicious view of the sinewy muscles in his arms and chest, and when he turned his back to work on the shelf, she experienced the odd and very unexpected urge to reach out and knead the corded flesh of his shoulders. She watched the hard muscles shift beneath his skin as he worked, the heat in her body beginning to rise. How had she ever managed to push him away last night?
“Doesn’t look like the bracket was nailed into a stud,” he told her.
“Oh,” she breathed.
What had he just said? She was too busy watching his muscles. Something about a stud?
“To find the stud,” he explained, “you do this.” Then he used his fist to knock lightly on the drywall until the sound changed from a hollow one to a solid one. “See the difference?” he said, knocking again on the hollow area, then the solid.
“Uh huh,” she said, vaguely wondering what a stud was, besides a man like him, a man who was arousing the hell out of her by simply examining a wall.
She watched then as he attached the bracket to the wall. “But instead of using nails,” he explained, “I’m going to use screws.”
“Screws,” she repeated dumbly. Then she watched the muscles in his shoulders
and arms moving some more as he twisted the screw into the wall. It looked like he was exerting himself and she liked it. Although she could suddenly think of better ways for him to do that. And she was sorry when the screws were in place and the muscles stilled. She wanted to watch him work some more.
“What now?” she asked.
“Well, now,” he said, “I’m done.” He reached for the fallen shelf and easily rested it on the two brackets that jutted from the drywall.
And disappointment flooded Holly’s body.
“I guess I’ll see you later,” he told her when she didn’t reply in any way, dropping his tools back in the small toolbox he’d brought with him.
And then the disappointment that pumped through her veins was replaced with desperation. She hadn’t gone through all this just to let him leave.
She’d imagined the job would take longer, that they would chat more, make small talk, that she’d offer him a drink. And she certainly hadn’t let her entire body get into the act of watching the man twist screws into studs only to let him walk away that easily.
So she knew she had to do something, and she knew she had to do it now.
“I want you,” she blurted.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Derek’s head darted around until he faced her with wide eyes. “You what?”
Despite the fact that she couldn’t believe what she’d just said, she knew she had no other choice but to plow full steam ahead now.
“I said I want you.”
He squinted slightly. “You want me?” And he sounded puzzled, like he didn’t understand the words.
Okay—a little surprise had been one thing, but she hadn’t counted on outright confusion. She took a deep breath and decided the only thing to do at this juncture was to spill her guts and make her intentions completely clear, come what may.
“I want to rip your clothes off and make love to you right here and now,” she told him. She could hear her own heartbeat. And she knew her voice had trembled, but she didn’t care. She didn’t look down, she didn’t cower, she met his gaze head on.
And when he didn’t respond, the wonderful and surprising power of being able to shock him pulsed through her entire being—and she followed the startling urge to continue, to tell him just exactly what was on her mind. “I was crazy to let you leave last night. I spent all night and all day today wanting you to touch me. And kiss me. Everywhere.”
His eyes glazed then, turning sexy on her. And she got the feeling he was finally beginning to believe her.
But something made her continue anyway. “And watching you now, watching you work, all I want to do is feel you, all over.”
After that, though, she finally shut up. Then bit her lip and waited.
She’d completely and shamelessly bared her soul. The rest was up to him. Her heart felt like it might leap from her chest, yet other parts of her were so aroused that her fear hardly mattered. Her desire surpassed her doubts completely.
Derek glanced around them, then returned his heat-filled eyes back to her face. “One question,” he said, his voice low and raspy. “Where’s the baby?”
“Gone,” she answered succinctly. “Spending the night with my sister.”
Again, he squinted slightly. “Why?”
And, hell, she’d told him everything else—why not just be honest about this, too? “So I could seduce you without interruption.”
He studied her for a moment more, his smoldering gaze nearly burning a hole in her body, and then his eyes took on a wickedly playful glow. “I don’t think I’ve ever been seduced quite so quickly.”
“I was nervous,” she admitted. “I couldn’t go slow.”
His breath came harder now as he continued to devour her with his eyes. “I don’t think I can, either.”
And with that, he took a step toward her, reached for her hands, and gently held them in place on each side of her. Then he stepped in close, grazing the front of her body with his. She sighed at the flutter of pleasure that rippled through her. Oh God, this is really going to happen!
Fingers interlocked, her hands imprisoned by his, he pressed firmly into her, pushing her back against the refrigerator. And she heard her own labored breath as she looked up into his eyes.
His lips came down hard on hers, his tongue invading her mouth as his hands slid to her hips, then around to cup her bottom. She kissed him back voraciously, her body succumbing to a whirlwind of sensations, each too quick and powerful for her to assess.
She wrapped her arms about his neck and they kissed again and again as he spun her around, then lifted her up onto the kitchen counter. She spread her legs and let him stand between them, the pressure of his crotch against hers causing a groan to escape from her throat.
“Mmm, honey,” he breathed, kissing her neck.
She lifted her arms above her head, clutching helplessly at the wooden cabinets behind her and melting in a hundred different ecstasies, each one vibrant and new.
“So hot,” he murmured, now pushing her breasts together and lowering frantic kisses through her blouse.
She wrapped her legs around his hips and felt him thrusting against her, felt the pulsing that started at the crux of her thighs and spread outward until it reached the tips of her fingers and toes. “Oh, Derek,” she breathed. “Derek.”
Panting, labored breaths left her as he ripped at the knot in her shirt, then worked hurriedly at her buttons before shoving the blouse away and reaching for the front clasp of her bra.
“Oh….” she sighed when her breasts were freed—and then came his hands and his lips, molding and licking and sucking as she wrapped her legs tighter and tighter, pulling him against her below, again and again. She clutched at his shoulders, ran her fingers through his hair, felt as if she were someone else—and then basked in the marvelous pleasure and knowledge that, no, she was still herself, Holly Blake, and that this man was making her feel things she’d never even known existed, that this man wanted her as badly as she wanted him, that this man was making her moan.
“Please,” she rasped without quite meaning to.
He pulled back from her breasts and gazed up at her, his eyes filled with hunger. “Please what, honey?”
She didn’t even know. But then she did. “Everything. Just…everything.”
He pushed her blouse and bra off her shoulders and she shrugged free of them, then reached for his T-shirt, sliding her hands beneath. Then he ripped the shirt off over his head and her eyes fell on his strong, beautiful chest. “I want to rub against it.” More unintended words.
“Go ahead,” he said throatily.
And without hesitation, Holly unlocked her legs from his waist and hopped down from the counter—and this time she backed him into the refrigerator. She raked the tips of her breasts against his chest and they both released low moans that heated the air around them.
She wasn’t sure if he reached for her zipper first, or if she reached for his—but they soon tugged at each other’s pants, pulling at waistbands, trying to get to each other. They dropped to their knees, kissing frantically, and Holly gave up on Derek’s shorts and ran her hands over the muscles she’d admired earlier—in his arms, his shoulders, his chest.
Lying on the kitchen floor, he removed her jeans and her panties—she wriggled out of them as he pulled. And her lips trembled as she watched him finish undressing, whispering, “Hurry.” She didn’t think she could stand to wait another moment before having him inside her. This was really happening and a freight train couldn’t stop it now.
When they were both finally naked, she reached for him. “Now.”
“Wait,” he breathed.
“What?”
Frustrated by the delay, she waited as he reached for the shorts he’d just discarded, then dug in the pocket for his wallet.
“What are you…?” But then she saw the small foil packet and said, “Oh.” She might have felt stupid if her arousal hadn’t overridden it.
She watched him put it on, bitin
g her lower lip.
And when he was done, he lifted his eyes to hers and caught her staring. “What?” he asked.
“I…like the way you look down there,” she confessed in a whisper.
“Oh God,” he breathed in low reply—and then he dove on her, pressing her flat against the ceramic tile. She closed her eyes as he used his hands to part her legs. “Are you ready?” he asked.
Ready. That word again. She’d wanted to be that for him last night and couldn’t. Tonight, though, she was. She really was.
“I’m more ready than you can imagine,” she promised.
And then he was inside her, filling her with himself, filling that part of her that had felt so empty for so long now. He was moving on her, in her, making her cry out as he murmured words of passion over her. “So good, baby—so good.”
She listened to his labored breath and relished the way their excitement mixed and mingled, the way their bodies moved so incredibly well together.
“Oh…” She breathed, soaking in the pure joy of it, the connection of it, feeling consumed by it.
She opened her eyes and found his sultry gaze once again, penetrating her in that way nearly as much as he was below. His breathing grew more audible and intense with his thrusts, and Holly lifted herself against each. “Unh…” she moaned.
“Aw God, Holly,” he whispered. “God…yeah.”
She met each drive of his hard body with as much force as she could, wanting to feel him still more, deeper, deepest. She’d wondered if it would feel strange to be this intimate with a man she didn’t know very well, but now that she was, she realized that touching him—and being touched by him—was easy, and that having him inside her felt utterly right.
“Oh, oh, oh…now.” He released inside her with a long sigh of ecstasy and Holly experienced her own personal ecstasy to know she’d delivered him there. When his body finally stilled, she pulled his head to her chest and stroked his hair while he rested. And somehow, even on the kitchen floor, this felt…like it made all the sense in the world, like everything was right.
