by Megan Kelly
“He’s the quietest boy,” Betty said. “But compared to Christopher or a three-year-old like Brian, that isn’t saying much. Still, he sometimes has nightmares, and during those periods, he fights bedtime.”
“I had no idea.”
“You’ll see it next month,” Dylan put in. “For some reason, the middle of July and right before Thanksgiving are bad times for him.”
Tara shook her head, resting her hand on Dylan’s arm as the child wasn’t present to comfort. “Poor little guy.”
“Mom.” Dylan stepped away. “Let me drive you home.”
Tara tucked away a smile, hoping he was stirred up by her touch.
Betty frowned. “Don’t be silly.”
“I’ll follow you in my car then.”
“No, you will not. I’ll be fine.” She turned to Tara. “Good night, dear. Put this sweet but overprotective fellow to bed. And keep him there.”
Dylan’s color deepened. Tara could have laughed aloud at his discomfort. She, on the other hand, thought it a fine idea. Maybe it was the wine, or the romantic atmosphere of the restaurant, or the intimacy of the dance affecting her. But she was pretty sure it was just Dylan.
He closed the door. “She doesn’t like to be coddled.”
“She’s very independent.” Tara flicked off the table lamp, leaving the room in near darkness. Only the hall light illuminated the end of the living room.
“I was going to read a while.”
“You were,” Tara said in mock agreement. “But I have orders to take you to bed.”
“Put me in bed.”
She placed a hand against his chest and walked him backward. “Take you. Put you. Same difference.”
Except for her inflection, which gave the words a much different meaning than his mother intended.
He retreated before her, cooperating on his way to his bedroom. At the door, he balked, becoming an immovable object.
“I’m supposed to put you to bed, remember?” she said.
He flicked on the light switch.
“And keep you there.” She stretched on tiptoes and pulled his head down to kiss him. He acquiesced, closed mouth. This was Dylan Ross, the great lover? She slid her tongue along the seam of his lips, empowered by his groan and encouraged as his mouth opened.
With a nudge, they traversed the small space and sank onto the mattress. His eyes gleamed with purpose, then he shot up a mental guard.
The strength of his resistance made her realize the depth of the need he fought. She leaned nearer, then closed the distance with a soft kiss.
“Tara.” He rested his forehead against hers. “Not a good idea.”
Her tongue dipped into his mouth, rewarded by a groan. Dylan moved his mouth on hers, taking over the kiss, and taking her heart soaring. He eased her backward and she clung to him, enjoying the strength of his muscled arms and the weight of the broad chest that came down over her.
“The light,” she objected.
“Will make this better for me.”
His lecherous grin made her laugh. She tried not to think of faded silver stretch marks or any of her body’s other flaws.
Her skin tingled, goose bumps of anticipation rising. Finally. The night seemed endless. She would show him how much she desired him, and in return she would have the pleasure of his body and the benefit of his wealth of experience.
She pushed those thoughts aside, determined to enjoy making love with Dylan. Tomorrow—or an hour from now—would be soon enough for regrets.
Her fingers worked at the remaining buttons on his shirt, then raced across the hard planes and coarse hairs they revealed. Air whisked over her legs and abdomen as Dylan raised her skirt.
“Are you sure?” His fingers hooked into her panties to remove them without waiting for her answer.
“Very.” She wanted to urge him to go faster. The waiting would drive her insane. She slipped off his shirt and tried to unbuckle his belt while he attempted to pull her blouse over her head.
“A little cooperation here,” he muttered.
“A little patience.”
He chuckled. “Not likely.”
She liked his impatience, saw it as a sign of his desire for her. He shifted to draw off his pants, and an excited warmth rushed through her.
He scooted her toward the middle of the bed, his muscles bulging under her hands as he picked her up. With a heave of her own, she thrust back and upward, and Dylan pulled her clothes out of the way. When his gaze ran over her, he murmured only admiring words, and she relaxed, all thoughts of imperfections burned away by his appreciation.
His eyes gleamed molten blue before his mouth covered her breast. Her gut clenched with need even before his tongue flicked over her distended nipple, before his teeth grazed it, making her arch into him, craving more. He tugged and teased with his fingers on her other breast.
She gasped, her fingers laced into his hair, holding him close, encouraging, although he didn’t seem to need it. “Dylan.”
“You’re beautiful.” His words came out muffled, but she wasn’t paying attention. What could he say that would be better than what he was doing?
Tara caressed his chest and delighted in the power his responding moan of pleasure granted her. How she wanted to pleasure him. She flicked her thumb across his nipple, and he responded in kind with his tongue.
He kissed his way up her body, scorching a path of need, and slid his hands down to caress her core, dallying on the way. She encircled him with her hand, the smooth heat of his erection heightening her anticipation. It had been so long for her, but this wasn’t about sex. She wanted to create this connection with Dylan. She didn’t know what she felt for him yet, other than need, but this was an act of giving as well as taking for her.
And she fully intended to take pleasure from him.
His words blurred, as passion-induced words do. At this point, he should know he didn’t have to seduce her. She was his for the night.
“The kids,” she reminded him after he groaned loudly. Each squeak of the bed and every moan they uttered worried her.
“Oh.” Dylan rose on his elbows and grinned down at her. “Sorry. It’s my first time since I brought Lily home.”
“It’s my first time since I brought Jimmy home.”
His eyes widened, then he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers.
Now, she thought. If he used those beautiful, usually meaningless love words now, she’d believe him.
“I’m honored.”
Tara smiled and pulled him down, burying her face in his neck. She sucked the cord there, distracting him into another moan as he arched into her.
Each caress he offered now drove her higher. He slowed, taking more time to stimulate her. It being their first time—only time?—added depth and meaning, discovery and connection. His intimate touches seared her to her heart. When he entered her, she was more than aroused; she was eager to give him a part of herself. His caresses stirred her and made her writhe with pleasure. They kissed, tongues clashing, then traveling wherever they could reach. She drove herself against him, clasping him closer, straining to become part of him.
Tara gasped as she came, holding in her moan of delight. His climax met hers and meshed the two of them into one being, if only for a brief moment.
Too brief, she thought, as she lay cuddled close, sharing his warmth as his hands soothed her down to reality. His kiss on her forehead broke her heart. It was a kiss of thanks, a kiss of after-sex. Full of affection but none of the love she craved at a time like this.
Many long, quiet minutes later, assured by his heavy breathing that he’d fallen asleep, she slipped away to her own bed. If sex had been a mistake—and it would surely have ramifications she refused to think about—at least she’d shared this need with him. Wishing she had the nerve to sleep in his arms and face him with serene composure in the morning, she slid under her blankets, positive she’d never sleep. She wanted to relive those moments in his arms, extend the fantasy
a little longer. But he’d worn her out as well, and moments later she drifted off.
She woke to a hand caressing her hip and lips on hers. Snuggling deeper, she enjoyed the extension of her dream. Dream-Dylan’s tongue slid into her mouth at the same time real-Dylan’s did.
Tara’s eyes flew open. “Dylan?”
“You were expecting someone else?” he murmured against her neck.
“What are you doing?”
His laughter nudged his chest against her breasts. She shivered.
“I would hope it was obvious, otherwise I’m doing it all wrong.”
“We can’t do this. Not again.”
“You were supposed to take me to bed and keep me there. I’d hate to tell my mom you didn’t follow through.”
Tara evaded his mouth. “We can’t.”
“We just did.”
“That was…hormones. Buildup from dinner.”
“I’m still built up, honey. Let me show you.”
His body, pressed against hers, convinced her of his aroused state.
“It’s okay,” he said. “We’re married.”
“But—” She broke off when his tongue dueled with hers. One hand clasped her close, the other drew circles on her breast, plucking need from the depths of her core. “We agreed not to do this. Married without benefits, remember? That was the deal.”
Dylan rose above her. “Are you serious?”
She nodded.
“Okay, then.” He kissed her nose. Her cheek. She felt his smile against her neck. “This will be the last time.”
LATER THAT MORNING, Dylan appeared crisp and ready for work half an hour earlier than usual. Tara had woken early herself and dressed with care. Dressed for him, though she hated to admit it. Wanting him to find her attractive and needing to feel her best in case he’d changed his mind about their lovemaking, she’d found a knee-length khaki twill skirt and purple camp shirt. They were attractive enough for facing her lover the morning-after, but would hold up to a day of toddlers. She laughed at the mixed-up craziness of her current situation. Meeting his eyes made her squirm, but she forced herself to do so, trying to read his expression. An impossible task.
If they were honest, they couldn’t get an easy annulment now. Worse, for the first time in her life, she hadn’t even considered protection. Either time.
“How’re you doing today?” she asked.
“Good.” He grabbed a piece of toast with jelly but shot her a smile. “I have to run.”
“Dylan.”
“I have an appointment today with my attorney. Everything’s fine.”
Looking into his eyes, she knew it was true. No guilt, no second thoughts, no reexamination of their no-sex agreement. He didn’t seem to suffer any aftereffects of their lovemaking.
Or even remember it, she thought with pique.
“Bye, pumpkin.” He kissed the top of Lily’s head.
Lily reached out a hand to him, patting his sleeve. “Bye.”
He nodded, then kissed Jimmy’s head. “Bye, tiger. You kids have a good day at school.”
“Bye, Dylan,” he said in a quiet voice. “You have a good day, too.”
Dylan stopped in front of Tara. “Thanks.”
Thanks? Was he kidding? She nodded, determined to hide her pain with nonchalance.
“I’m sorry I have to rush off.”
“No problem.”
“You know I’m grateful you take care of the kids while I have to work late or go in early, right?” His eyes gleamed.
“Ri-ight,” she drew the word out, watching him.
“So you’re expecting this.” He pulled her close with his hands around her upper arms and kissed her. Rather than evoking the passion of the previous night, it was the most tender, most heart-touching kiss she’d ever received.
Jimmy hooted. “Look, Lily. Your dad is kissing my mom.”
Dylan drew away and winked. She wanted to read promise in his gaze but scolded her imagination. Getting her hopes up would prove painful later.
“Mom, someone’s at the door.”
Tara laughed. So that pounding noise wasn’t her heart? “Are you expecting a delivery?” she asked Dylan.
He shook his head, just as a knock sounded again. “Especially not this early.”
He crossed the room and swung open the door, blocking her view.
“I’m looking for Tara Montgomery.”
She froze, recognizing the voice. Her mouth went dry. “Jay?”
“Hey, babe.”
Dylan stepped back, and Jimmy’s father, Tara’s ex-lover, entered his home. Dylan inspected him, noting the deep tan against his light blue polo shirt and white cargo shorts. Jay’s casual outfit was probably designer expensive, not that Dylan knew or cared, but Tara would recognize the quality of his attire. Dylan bristled at the younger man’s arrogant swagger as he crossed to Tara, took hold of her arms and kissed her on the mouth.
The kiss appeared identical to the one Dylan had just given her. Had the dip-wad spied on them through the window by the door?
Tara stepped away and wiped the back of her hand across her lips.
Dylan didn’t suppress his smile.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I came to see you. And my son.”
Dylan ground his teeth. Providing sperm didn’t make this jerk Jimmy’s father.
Tara’s wide eyes met his, but he couldn’t interpret the message. She moved to stand behind Jimmy’s chair, putting her hands on his shoulders. “Jimmy, remember what I told you about your father? That he lives someplace else?”
Her son nodded.
“Well, this is your father. His name is Jamison, but he likes to be called Jay so he’s not confused with the hardworking bankers in his family.”
“You continued family tradition and named him after me?” He had a goofy grin plastered across his face.
“You didn’t know your son’s name?” Dylan asked pointedly.
Jay pivoted, eyes narrowed, fake smile widening on his mouth. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced.” He extended his hand. “Jamison Albert Summerfield, the third.”
Dylan raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. Sure, he’d heard of the Summerfields before Tara mentioned them, a powerful family with interests in every industry in the U.S. He turned to check the effect of the man’s presence on Jimmy. The boy had a frown on his face, which could mean any number of things.
“And who’s this?” Jay pointed at Lily.
She slid off her seat and shrunk against Tara’s side. Tara put an arm around her, hugging both children close. “This is Lily Durant.”
Jay turned back to Dylan. “Still didn’t catch your name.”
“Dylan Ross.” He walked around the other man, putting himself between Jay and the others.
Jay nodded, following his progress. His eyes traveled over the foursome, stopping on Lily. “Who’s her father?”
“I am,” Dylan said.
“I see.” Jay nodded then studied Jimmy for a moment. “You don’t look much like me.”
Dylan faked a surprised expression. “Why, you’re right. Jim, you’re starting to look like me!”
The boy’s eyes widened.
“We both have blond hair. We both have blue eyes. If I had a loose tooth, people would think we were twins.”
Jimmy giggled.
Jay scowled. “Your mom was crazy about me back when we were younger. Did she ever tell you about me?”
Jimmy shrugged and left his chair to step closer to Dylan.
“Doesn’t he talk?” Jay asked.
“Yes, he talks,” Tara said with a glare. “What are you doing here?”
Jay flashed a smile.
Toothy, insincere bastard.
“Can’t a guy visit his son?” He ran his eyes down Tara’s form, lingering with obvious appreciation, and Dylan’s hands fisted. “And the mother of his son?”
“This isn’t a good time,” she said. “We’re on our way to day care.”
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br /> “Then what, after you drop off the kiddos? You have a charity meeting or a tennis lesson or something? I can come along.” He closed one eye in a slow wink. “We can get reacquainted.”
Dylan glared. He really didn’t like this guy’s suggestive wit.
“I’m going to work, Jay. You’ve heard of work, surely?”
He guffawed. “Not in our circles, babe.”
“Be that as it may, I don’t have time to catch up now.”
“That’s cool. I’ll just take little Jay Junior here for a ride.”
“No,” Tara and Dylan said at the same time. She looked at him, but he didn’t understand what she wanted him to do. He’d be more than willing to toss the jerk out on his…butt.
“He’s not Jamison Junior,” Tara added, “or even number four. He’s James Alexander, after my grandfather, which you’d know if you read the birth certificate.”
“I did, babe. It’s just been a while, you know?”
She crossed her arms. “I’m well aware of how long it’s been.”
The acid in her words made Dylan grin.
“He’s not going anywhere alone with you,” she continued.
“You wouldn’t try to block me from seeing my son, now would you?” His words poured out like rattlers from a burlap sack, slithery and full of threat.
Tara stared him down. “Knock off the games. I’m not impressed.”
Jay barked with laughter. Lily put her hands over her ears.
“You never were too easily impressed, were you?”
She must have been at one time. Dylan couldn’t imagine the woman he’d come to know falling for this jerk’s line.
Tara turned to Dylan. “Can you take the kids to school on the way to your appointment? I’ll call and explain the delay.”
“Sure, if that’s what you want.” Wouldn’t you rather I knock him unconscious and throw him in the Dumpster?
She nodded. “Thanks.”
“You heard the lady.” Dylan put on his own fake smile for the kids’ benefit. “Let’s get moving.”
“Just leave your plates,” Tara said. She gave each child a hug.
Jimmy circled a wide path behind Dylan to avoid the sperm donor. Dylan laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder in reassurance, then started when Lily’s small palm slid into his hand. He smiled as she held his gaze.
