"Touch me," he said.
She wasn't sure where or how, but figured she couldn't really hurt him. She brushed her hands against the sprinkling of hair between his flat nipples. She traced the shape of his ribs and the width of his shoulders. She wondered what he would taste like, but couldn't bring herself to test his skin to find out.
After several minutes he stilled her hands. "Take off your sweater."
"Why?" she asked, her voice squeaking on the single syllable.
When he didn't answer, she swallowed hard. Okay, take off her sweater. No big deal. Hadn't she just promised herself she was going to do whatever he asked? Besides, if she took it off he might touch her breasts again, and wouldn't that be lovely?
She did as he requested and in the process realized he'd unfastened her bra. She didn't want to think about how awkward it must look as she tried to pull one piece of clothing off while attempting to keep another firmly plastered against her chest.
Finally she was able to pull her sweater over her head with one hand while the other held the bra against her breasts. She tossed the sweater on the floor.
"That, too," he said, tugging on the hook end of the undergarment.
"I can't," she said miserably.
"Why?"
She looked away. "They're too big. It's ugly. I always wanted those little perky breasts like you see in the magazine ads."
"Everything about you is beautiful."
She glared at him. "Oh yeah, right. Including the extra fifteen pounds. I'm stunning. Modeling agencies are pounding at the door to get me to work for them."
He studied her for a moment, then nodded as if he'd come to some conclusion. "Scoot up."
That she could do. She scooted a little closer.
"Close your eyes."
That request made her suspicious, but she did as he asked. Still, she didn't release her death grip on her bra. Fortunately he didn't try to take it away from her.
Instead, he placed his hands on her thighs. He stroked her from knee to hip bone. With each back-and-forth, his hands slipped closer and closer to the insides of her legs until at last his thumbs brushed over private places. She jumped.
"Keep your eyes closed," he said.
She found it difficult to breathe, but it was easy to not look. He kept his thumbs there, touching, pressing more than moving. He seemed to be looking for something. She was about to tell him there wasn't anything there when he found it.
He rubbed a tiny spot. A shudder raced through her, and goose bumps broke out on her skin. What was that? Would he do it again? He would and he did. Several times he touched that magical place, caressing her until she was weak. Then he moved away and stroked her bare arms and shoulders.
Her breasts ached. There was no other word to describe the heavy sensation that filled them. Her nipples were tight. She needed relief, but didn't know what to do. She suspected Jordan had the answer. But that would mean letting him look at her. The battle was lost the moment he traced a single finger over the outside curve of her left breast. The soft touch was so sweet, she wanted to weep. Instead, she relaxed and let him pull the bra away.
Within fifteen seconds she wondered what she'd been fussing about. After a minute she decided she'd been a stupid fool.
He touched her breasts as if they were precious and objects of worship. Long fingers caressed every curve, every inch of sensitized skin. His thumbs teased her nipples, circling the tight peaks until she could think of nothing else but having him touch her like that for always.
"If I give you a million dollars, will you promise never to stop?" she asked.
"I'll promise without the million dollars," he whispered. "Why would I want to stop?"
She opened her eyes and glanced down. His tanned fingers contrasted with her pale skin. Somehow, with him touching her, she could believe she wasn't ugly there. When his thumbs and forefingers gently pinched her nipples and she saw, as well as felt, the delicious tug, her hips arched involuntarily.
Her breathing increased, and she didn't know why. Her skin was hot; her panties felt damp. Everything confused her, but it was wonderful.
When he urged her to stretch out next to him, she didn't protest. She lowered the bed so it was flat as he used a couple of pillows to support his back. He turned on his side so he faced her. Then he did the most amazing thing. He bent his head and took one of her nipples into his mouth.
The moist heat overwhelmed her. She whispered his name, then buried her hand in his hair to hold him in place. Unbelievable heat and longing filled her.
He suckled her breast, then moved to the other side and repeated the wondrous event. She barely noticed his hands slipping under her leggings and brushing against her bare skin. It was only when one of his fingers touched that magic spot between her legs that she realized what he was doing.
But then it was too late. He'd begun to move back and forth, then around. Speech was impossible. She half expected her heart to stop beating.
"Relax," Jordan whispered, then stuck his tongue in her ear. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm going to make you feel good."
He was. Absolutely. She tried to tell him, but she couldn't.
He nibbled on her lobe. "Do you feel the pressure building?"
She nodded. It was incredible. Every fiber, every cell, focused on his fingers and what he was doing there.
"Have you ever felt anything like this before?"
"No," she gasped.
"Good. Just go with it." A spasm jerked her body. He chuckled. "It's not going to take very long."
She wasn't sure if that was good or bad, but decided it didn't matter. He bent over her and kissed her. Their tongues danced. He drew her into his mouth and sucked. The quick spasm matched the rhythm between her legs. She thought she would die of the pleasure.
Then his hand shifted slightly. She became aware of an insistent, pleasurable pressure. She focused on it. Something she didn't understand swam just out of reach. Jordan broke the kiss, then bent over her breast. He stroked his tongue against her nipple. That was all she needed.
For a moment the world stopped, suspended on a point of pleasure so intense, she finally understood why lovers were willing to risk everything for this moment. Then time resumed, and the release crashed through her body. She gave herself up to it, riding it, feeling it, becoming one with the man at her side, knowing nothing would ever be the same again.
Jordan watched Holly's face, the flush that climbed from her chest to her cheeks, the way her lips parted as if she needed to draw in more air. At last her eyes fluttered open.
"Wow," she said reverently.
"Pretty amazing, huh?"
Her hand fluttered for a moment. "I need a new set of words to describe that."
He kissed her forehead. "I'm glad."
He was. Except for the intense, throbbing pressure in his groin, he felt great. He couldn't give Holly everything she deserved, but he had opened a door for her. He was pleased that she'd found pleasure in his arms.
He kissed her gently. "What about my dinner?"
She stirred. "Hmm, I'm hungry, too. Steak and baked potato. Give me fifteen minutes."
She sat up slowly, then stretched. Her long hair tumbled down her back. As she raised her arms, he saw her left breast and the rosy-tipped nipple. His erection flexed against the fly of his jeans, but he ignored the signal. He'd promised not to make love with her, and he intended to keep his word. Holly was innocent enough not to realize he was aroused and suffering. Better for both of them if she didn't offer to take care of him.
She stood up and reached for her bra. He had a brief view of her bare chest before she turned quickly and dressed. Surprising him, and probably herself, she bent over and gave him a quick, hot kiss before she left to start dinner.
Jordan stared after her. Holly Garrett was deadly. He could feel the danger all the way down to his soul. There was something about her that appealed to him. Was it her innocence or her sweet spirit? He wasn't sure. All he knew was she mad
e him want things he could never have. He treated her differently than he'd ever treated another woman. In the past he'd always held back. With her, he wanted to give.
But he couldn't get involved. He knew the price love required. His parents, Travis and his first wife, Craig and Krystal. Everyone he knew and cared about had paid a high, ugly price for the privilege of love. He was going to play it safe. That's why he'd always held himself at arm's length from relationships.
So how had Holly slipped inside his barriers? Was it because they'd never officially dated? She'd just been around, and he'd grown to like her.
He drew in a breath. For the first time in his life he wanted more. He wanted to be with her, make love with her, hold her, confess his darkest secrets. For the first time he was tempted. He wanted to believe it was possible, that this time was different. But he'd learned his lesson too well for that. This time was exactly the same. If he risked getting involved, both he and Holly were going to get burned.
* * *
Chapter 10
« ^ »
It was early afternoon on Sunday when Louise and Holly pulled the last cookie sheet from the oven. They'd finished decorating the sugar cookies while the batch of chocolate-chip cookies had been baking. The delicious smells filled the house. Vanilla and chocolate, sweet icing, cinnamon, all surrounded by the homey scent of fresh-brewed coffee for the expected guests.
Louise expertly transferred cooled cookies to a large plate then handed it to Holly. "Take these into the living room," she said.
"But there are three plates in there already."
Louise winked. "I know how these girls eat. The cookies will disappear. Trust me."
Holly did as she requested. Once in the living room, she rearranged the plates of treats, then glanced around at the open area. Jordan's contribution to furniture had been a single sofa and a rather ratty-looking recliner. The dimensions of the room were substantial. In honor of the events of the day, Holly had loaned a few antique sofas, some tables and floor lamps. Nothing matched, but at least everyone would have a place to sit.
She stared at the plain white walls and thought about how beautiful the house could be. They'd finished the dining room yesterday. Kyle and Travis had come over to help move in the furniture Jordan had ordered. With some time and effort the rest of the house would be just as lovely. She wanted to be a part of the project.
As she ran her fingers along the stiff back of a Victorian-influenced blue settee, she imagined the house filled with laughter. She'd been happy here. Others could be, too. She wondered what it would be like to live here permanently, to know she was going to raise a family here. She'd thought about having children, of course, had wanted to, but didn't think it was likely. She wasn't sure she was prepared to be a single parent. The thought of raising a child on her own terrified her, and she admired those who were able to keep it all together without someone else to depend upon.
She'd thought of family, but she'd shied away from marriage. She knew she would never trust anyone enough to be able to commit to forever.
She heard voices in the kitchen. Louise's higher pitch followed by Jordan's low rumble. Her heart began to beat faster. Funny, after all they'd been through, working on the house every day, talking about nearly every aspect of their lives, he still had the power to make her knees weak.
A restlessness swept over her, propelling her to walk faster through the room. Energy she didn't understand filled her, spilling out, making her want something, if only she could figure out what that something was.
Jordan?
The thought came unbidden, but once it arrived, she couldn't let it go.
Heat coiled low in her belly as she remembered how he'd touched her and what wonderful pleasure he'd brought her. There hadn't been a repeat of that incredible time together, but the aftereffects lingered.
He touched her more now. He stole kisses in the hallway. She'd even kissed him once, although the thought of it still brought a flush to her cheeks. If asked, she wouldn't be able to define their relationship. They weren't dating or lovers. They seemed to be more than friends, although she wasn't sure. Most frightening of all, she was starting to sense she might be able to trust Jordan. If she did, if she allowed herself to fall for him, that would ruin everything. No matter how nice he was to her, in her heart she knew she wasn't his type. When he was healed and able to get on with his life, he would go back to the kind of women he was used to.
* * *
The sound of cars in the driveway broke through her musings. She walked to the front window and stared out. A gleaming Mercedes pulled up first, followed by a mini-van and two sport-utility vehicles. One had a small open trailer hitched to the back bumper.
Adults and children spilled out onto the driveway. Holly stared in amazement. She'd met most of the adults of the family, but not many of the children. It was one thing to know intellectually that Craig had three boys and Sandy and Kyle had four children, counting the baby. It was quite another to see all of them running around.
She watched as the adults called to each other and laughed. The women hugged, and the men shook hands. It was as if they hadn't seen each other in months instead of just a few days. Holly fought a tightness in her throat. She envied Jordan his beautiful Victorian house, but even more than that, she envied him his close, loving family. While she appreciated that they drew her in and made her feel welcome, she wished she was there because she belonged instead of on a temporary basis by virtue of living in Jordan's house.
She wondered if Louise fought these feelings. She and the housekeeper had talked about their solitary lives. The Haynes family offered a refuge.
"Are they here?" Jordan asked as he walked into the room. He moved easily with a natural elegance that only added to the temptation he already provided. Late last week he'd started physical therapy, and the exercises and treatments seemed to be easing his pain.
"They just pulled up." She looked at him, then at the jacket he was holding. "Are you going to be all right?"
"I swear I won't cut down a single tree." He made an X over his heart. "My brothers will take care of that." He moved next to her and tugged on her long braid. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. I'll see you later this afternoon."
He started for the front door. Out of nowhere Mistletoe materialized and sauntered in front of him. He had to sidestep suddenly to avoid tripping on her. Jordan swore under his breath. Mistletoe gave him a long, unblinking stare, then turned away and began washing her face.
"Mistletoe, that's rude," Holly said. The cat ignored her. Jordan opened the front door and moved out onto the porch. Holly followed. She watched as he walked down the steps and greeted his family. His sisters-in-law fussed over him, while his brothers teased him about being a slacker. Holly smiled and knew even though it was temporary, she was going to enjoy every minute she had with this family.
Elizabeth, Rebecca, Jill and Sandy started up the stairs toward the house. As they did, Louise came out onto the porch and shrugged into her coat.
"Everything is set up," the housekeeper said. "The coffee is in a carafe, and I've started a second pot. You know where everything else is."
Holly stared at her disbelievingly. "You're not leaving."
"Sure. I always go with the guys. Someone has to be around to keep track of the little ones. Take the girls to the bathroom, that sort of thing."
Holly glanced from Louise to the four women she didn't really know. "But I can't be the hostess." It wasn't right. Besides, she was terrified.
"You'll be fine." Louise gave her a wink. "If there's a lull in conversation, ask them how they met their husbands. That will keep them talking for hours."
With that, she walked down the stairs and approached the minivan. Holly looked at the four women now standing in front of her. "Hi," she said awkwardly, and stepped back to let them in.
Elizabeth led the way. She paused and gave Holly a hug. "Thanks for having us."
"My pleasure," Holly muttered, not wanting to say i
t hadn't been her idea to entertain these women alone. She'd thought Louise was going to be here. Whatever were they going to say to each other?
They all walked into the living room and found seats. Holly busied herself taking coats and bringing in the coffee. How long would the men and children be gone? Two hours? Three? It was only one in the afternoon. What if they were gone until dark? How would she survive? She couldn't think of a single thing to talk about.
When there was nothing else to keep her in the kitchen, she reluctantly made her way toward the living room. The four women there were chatting easily, as if they'd known each other for years. They had, Holly reminded herself.
She hovered by the entrance to the living room until Elizabeth saw her and patted the sofa where she was sitting. "Come sit with me," she said.
Holly crossed the room and perched on the edge of the seat. She forced her lips into a smile, hoping it looked more natural than it felt.
Jill, her pregnant belly rounding the front of her flannel maternity top, reclined on a chaise by the fireplace. Rebecca and Sandy shared a sofa across from the one Elizabeth and Holly sat in. Holly felt everyone staring at her.
"I've got it," Rebecca said as she snapped her fingers. "I know what's different. You're blond."
Holly touched her head self-consciously. "I know."
"None of us are. The Haynes brothers generally prefer brunettes."
"Excuse me?" Jill said, pointing to her own red hair. "That's not completely true."
Elizabeth laughed. "Craig always has been his own man." She nodded slowly. "You're right, Rebecca. Holly is our first blonde."
Holly held up her hands. "We're just friends. Jordan and I don't date."
Knowing looks were exchanged. Holly felt herself flush. "Sandy, throw me a pillow, please," Jill said. She grabbed the pillow as it flew toward her, then tucked it under her back. "Everything hurts. Little people like me aren't supposed to puff up this much. It's fine for you tall types."
Rebecca tossed her long, dark, curly hair over her shoulder. "Jill is our poor little troll."
HOLLY AND MISTLETOE Page 12
