The Playboy's Baby

by Stewart, JM

  Touched by the gesture, tears sprang in Emma’s eyes. No man ever had gone through so much trouble for her. “Why would you do that for me?”

  “Why wouldn’t I do that for you?” He smiled again, warmth and tenderness filling his eyes. Then he tugged her hand and jerked his head in the direction of the interior of the house. “Let’s go see.”

  Unable to express her gratitude, Emma squeezed his fingers before moving forward in awe. They went from room to room. Dillon followed quietly beside her. Memories past slid to mind with each room. She was most surprised with the kitchen. The same old, faded yellow wallpaper still hung on the walls. Her mother’s favorite room had been the kitchen. If she closed her eyes and listened really hard, she swore she could still hear her mother’s quiet, breathy laughter echoing around her and the sound of bacon frying in a pan when Mama made breakfast every morning.

  Ten minutes later, they stood in one of the bedrooms upstairs, the one at the end of the hallway. Gone were the frilly curtains Mama insisted on and the posters that covered every available inch of wall space. Janey’s room. She could still see her sister sitting on the bed with her girly pink quilt and remembered when Janey locked herself in the closet because the old latch slid shut on her.

  “I liked it better when she lived here.” The old familiar pain sliced through her chest. Now the room looked too empty. Devoid of life.

  Dillon’s warmth pressed against her back. His hands came to rest on her shoulders in a show of gentle support she was grateful for. “I used to climb in through that window all the time.”

  She smiled, eyeing the window in question, the memory sliding to mind, of one too many nights waking to the sounds of giggling and shushing coming from this room. “I know. You two were never very quiet about it.”

  His chest rumbled against her back with his quiet laugh. “She used to tell me she snuck out through that window too.”

  She pursed her lips at the memory. “Used to scare the life out of me to find her gone. Where on earth did the two of you go?”

  “Usually down to the docks.”

  By the riverfront. Janey loved being down by the water. Before their mother got sick, they used to camp there every weekend.

  Dillon gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. “This house is yours, Em.”

  Her momentary good mood fell. She wished. “Was.” Her heart hung heavy.

  His head came down beside her ear, his warm breath fanning her cheek. “The new owner? Is me.” He straightened and his body pressed against her back again. “I discovered it in the paper a week ago. I made the old guy an offer he couldn’t refuse.”

  She stood frozen, her heart pounding in her throat. Dillon’s surprise suddenly took on a whole new level. “Why would you buy this house?”

  “Because it’s yours. You love this house.”

  Had she heard him correctly? Not daring to believe her ears, she turned to face him, stared at him and shook her head. “I’m afraid I’m not following you.”

  Those dark eyes burned into hers. “I didn’t buy this house for me.”

  When his meaning sank in, a shocked sort of numbness stole over her, and she turned a slow circle, taking in the space around her. “You bought this house.”

  “Yes.”

  “For me?”

  “For you.”

  The tenderness in his voice got to her. Tears sprang, unbidden, to her eyes. She faced him again and searched his gaze, her voice wobbling when she spoke. “Why would you do that?”

  He touched her chin, his fingers stroking her skin. “Because it’s been in your family for three generations. It shouldn’t belong to anyone else.”

  His words to her before they’d left his house combined with the tenderness in his eyes now seeped inside and wrapped around her heart. Emotion clogged her throat. She had no idea what to say to him. A simple gesture, something only a rich man could get away with, but the sweetness of it overwhelmed her. Her eyes filled and overflowed before she could stop them.

  Dillon reached out and drew her to him. She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. For an extended moment in time, she allowed herself the luxury of clinging to his big, warm body and the safe feeling his embrace gave her.

  “The paperwork hasn’t gone through yet.” His voice rumbled beneath her ear. “So I have to give the keys back tonight, but in about a month or so, this place is yours, free and clear.”

  She lifted her head to look up into the dark eyes that had become so familiar. “I will pay you back.”

  He cupped her face in warm, soft hands and swiped his thumbs across her cheeks, wiping away the tears. “No, you won’t. It’s a gift. Because I can.” One side of his mouth quirked up. “Being a spoiled rich boy isn’t without its benefits. Now this house can stay in your family, where it belongs.”

  His statement floored her. She’d underestimated him. He just told her, beyond any doubt, that he knew what this house meant to her, that he understood what she had to give up when she sold it, and he gave it back to her. If this didn’t prove she was wrong about him all these years, she didn’t know what did.

  “You’re a surprise at every turn, you know that?” She smiled.

  He leaned down and pressed his nose to hers. “I won’t say I told you so.” Then he released her and took her hand. He tugged on her arm and turned, walking out of the room. “Come on. Let’s go see what else they did to the house. I think I remember his wife mentioning they rebuilt the gazebo in the backyard.”

  Chapter Ten

  Emma’s heart hung heavy. Annie lay on a blanket on the floor in the center of the living room. She and Dillon stood together by the front door. He had his hands tucked casually into his pockets, his gaze soft. She didn’t want to say good-bye. To either of them.

  They’d spent a good hour at her mother’s house, exploring the rooms, sharing memories. Mostly, she talked and he listened, holding her hand while they walked through the rooms and eventually out into the gazebo in the backyard. The rest of the afternoon was spent simply—talking, laughing, and playing with Annie.

  Like a family.

  The more the hours drifted on, the more the closeness between them grew. The recognition of it echoed back at her from the depths of his eyes every time he looked at her. It was odd to feel the connection with him, warm yet familiar. That sense of having come home grabbed her again, lodging deep in the pit of her stomach.

  Staring at him now, she was at a loss for words. How did she describe her gratitude for what he gave her today? He gave her back her heritage, a part of her mother. He was also right. The entire morning had divested them of whatever unease had lingered from yesterday. She’d never felt so close to anyone the way she did to him right then.

  “Nobody’s ever done anything like that for me before, you know.” The gesture had melted her right out of her shoes and permanently wrapped itself around her heart.

  He shook his head, a deep crease forming between his brows. “Then you’ve been dating the wrong guys.”

  With a boldness brought out by an overwhelming need to show her appreciation, she closed the distance between them. With one hand braced against his chest, she leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

  She only meant it to be one kiss, a quiet show of gratitude and trust, but one touch of his mouth on hers and need exploded within her. Her body trembled with the memory of him wrapped around her, naked and hot. When she pulled back, their gazes locked. His was searching and intense yet so tender she wanted to drown in his eyes. She leaned in again.

  This time he leaned with her. Cupping her face in his large, warm hands, he slanted his mouth over hers. He kissed her slow and deep, their tongues twining, flicking together, mimicking the tender act they shared only yesterday until a quiet moan slipped from her lips and she melted into him, lost all track of herself, of her surroundings.

  By the time they finally parted, both were breathless. His hands left her face and slid to her hips, tugging he
r against him. The hard length of his arousal pressed into her belly and his body trembled beneath her palms. For a moment, he closed his eyes, his breathing ragged.

  “Good thing Annie’s still awake or you’d be in big trouble. You should not have done that.”

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” She hesitated, the need swelling in her chest. “I want you.”

  She’d been so wrong about him all these years, and the part of her that yearned for him tossed out every single reason why she shouldn’t let herself get lost in whatever happened between them.

  An agonized groan rumbled out of him and he opened his eyes, shaking his head. “I meant what I said, Em. I don’t do serious relationships. I want you so much, but I don’t want to hurt you. I’m no good for you.”

  “Maybe you don’t get to decide what’s good for me.” She leaned in, sipping at his mouth. She was delighted in the way, despite his protests, he sought her lips with a fervor that matched her own. “Maybe no strings attached is exactly what I want. Up until yesterday, I was a thirty-year-old virgin. Just once I want to do something completely not me. Get lost in passion for the first time in my life.”

  She trusted him because he’d shown her that soft gentle side of him and simply because of what he did for her today. She wanted to lose herself in it, to stop allowing fear to dictate her life. For once, she wanted to close her eyes and jump in anyway.

  He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes searching hers, clearly lost in indecision. But with a slow shake of his head he leaned in, whispering against her mouth. “I’m trying really hard to be a gentleman.” He kissed her once, twice, soft and lingering. “You keep saying things like that, and I’m not going to let you leave tonight.”

  She bit her bottom lip to keep from grinning. “I’ve got to work in the morning.”

  He growled against her mouth and kissed her again. Then he released her and took a step back. Lifting her coat off the hook, he handed it to her. “Then you better go. Before I make good on my threat. I’ll call you tonight.”

  He had called her. Every night that week at bedtime he called from his office at the club and she lay in the dark, listening to his voice. The thought of those steamy conversations when Emma pushed her way through the thick crowd of the club had heat coiling low in her belly. Slowly over the course of the last week, their conversations grew softer, more intimate. They talked better, more openly when it was just a quiet voice over a phone line. They admitted things she wondered if they’d dare say to each other’s face. They shared dreams, heartbreaks, and visions of the future. He told her about the job he wanted her to do, how his days with Annie went. Told her about the things that made him laugh and even shared his frustrations.

  Tuesday night, they both admitted how very much each wanted the other. She lay in the darkness of her bedroom, her body aching for his touch, when he asked, “You’re wearing that nightgown, aren’t you?”

  The husky tone of his voice had made her tremble. “Yes.”

  He growled low in his throat. “Take it off, Em.”

  She did and told him so.

  “Be my hands,” he whispered.

  He brought her to heights she didn’t know her body could reach, and he hadn’t even touched her. Yet, at the same time, it felt intimate. She closed her eyes, did what he instructed, and got so lost in his voice she was sure, on several occasions, it was his hands and not hers.

  Now the thought of seeing him again, after all the things they said to each other, had a knot of nervousness twisting in her stomach. Never in her life had she shared something so intimate with anyone. She had no idea how he’d react, what emotions would light in his candid brown eyes. Those steamy conversations made her feel wanton, wild. Emotions she didn’t know what to do with. She was always proper, responsible. The thought of the way she touched herself while listening to him made her blush.

  Yet, they left her with a sense of freedom that made her want to lose herself in it.

  A few minutes later, Dillon stood in the exact same place he was in the last time she came into the club—at the bar, surrounded by a throng of women. She stopped halfway down the bar from him, her hands trembling when she eyed the women. All those childhood insecurities twisted in her stomach. Two blondes and a brunette, all three of them tall and model beautiful. She couldn’t compete with that.

  He turned his head. Heat flashed in his eyes, subtle but intense, and a warm smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. He touched the elbow of the brunette, his mouth moving, but his gaze remaining locked on Emma when he made his way in her direction. He made her feel like the only woman in the room.

  She fisted her hands and squared her shoulders, butterflies tumbling in her stomach when he stopped in front of her.

  He stood a little too close. “You came.”

  “I wanted to see you.”

  All those steamy phone conversations zipped between them. The tempo of the music slowed, became a sensual, throbbing beat, and he held his hand out, palm up, his eyes burning into hers. “Dance with me.”

  She left her coat on a stool at the bar then slipped her hand into his. He led her through the throng of people onto the dance floor, then turned and pulled her against him. So close the undeniable proof of his arousal pressed into her belly, echoing her own immense desire.

  He wrapped his arms tight around her. She slipped hers around his waist and she lay her head on his chest. She lost herself in the music, in the feel of his body swaying against her, and his heartbeat beneath her ear. It was a delicious sensation that made her ache and yet filled her with a sense of warmth and safety. She could stay there all night, in the circle of his embrace.

  Eventually the song ended, a quick upbeat rhythm pounded around them and she lifted her head. His eyes smoldered, making her tremble. Without a word, he took her hand, leading her around the edge of the crowd, and up the stairs into his office.

  The door barely closed behind them before he turned, pressing her back against the solid wood, and seizing her mouth. One large warm hand cupping her cheek, he devoured her, his kiss hard and hungry. He left her breathless, trembling in his arms and craving the soft heat of his bare skin against her.

  “The things you do to me.” His voice rumbled against her throat when his lips left her mouth and trailed kisses down her neck. “I can’t resist you.”

  “I want you.” She pressed herself into him.

  He lifted his head and caught her gaze, his eyes searching hers. He looked lost in indecision, and then finally shook his head. “Not here.”

  She waited hours for him to come home, tossing and turning on the bed in the guest room. She listened to Annie’s soft, even breathing, and unable to fall asleep. When his engine rumbled in the driveway, her heart picked up pace, desire pooling in her belly. Finally, when the soft click of the front door closed, she slipped out of bed, the need to see him winding through her.

  Dillon stood in the kitchen at the center island and looked up when she entered the room.

  “You’re awake.” His tone of voice was cool and detached, his expression hard to read.

  “Couldn’t sleep.” She waited for him to move, to say something else, her hands trembling with the need to go to him, to touch him. He didn’t move, and frustration sang through her. Apparently, it would have to be her decision.

  With a boldness brought out by overwhelming need, she closed the distance between them. She pressed herself along his length, leaned up on her toes, and kissed him, once, then again.

  A low groan rumbled out of him, his mouth seeking hers with a hunger that stole the breath from her lungs. For long moments, she lost herself in him, in the heady taste of his tongue, and let her hands wander over the solid planes of his body.

  With an agonized groan, he gripped her by the shoulders and pushed her away. He stared down at her with misery in his eyes and shook his head. “I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow with regrets.”

  She drew in a deep breath, sucking up the last
ounce of her courage. In for a penny, in for a pound. Keeping her gaze locked on his, she took a step back, pulled her nightgown off over her head, and let it drop to the floor behind her. “This sure enough for you?”

  One dark brow arched. Desire flared in his eyes when his gaze slid over her. She fisted her hands, her entire body trembling while she waited for him to say something. She’d never done anything near this bold before. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at the same time. Like a baby bird taking the first step off a branch in its effort to learn to fly.

  Just when she thought she’d go mad waiting, he slid his hands onto her hips and pulled her against him.

  He leaned down and nipped at her bottom lip, growling against her mouth. “You are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  She let out a nervous laugh. “I was afraid you’d turn me down.”

  He shook his head and kissed her, tasting her once, twice. His hands slid up to cup her breasts in his heated palms. “I have absolutely no resistance against you.”

  She gasped and let her head fall back, arching into his hands, and trembling with an exhilarating sense of freedom and raw need.

  He knelt at her feet, sliding his hands down her body, fingertips skimming lightly over her skin. His large, warm palms slid up the insides of her thighs and spread them apart, then slid around to cup her bottom and pull her to him. His tongue found her heated core. All thinking fled. The exquisite feel of the intimate touch overwhelmed her. She’d never felt anything like it. The sensations quickly became too much and not enough. The sweet tension gathered in her belly and burst so quickly, her knees went limp. She shuddered in his arms, vaguely aware of the soft gasps escaping her mouth.

  When the tremors began to ease, he stood and pulled her against him for a kiss. Then he swept her off her feet and carried her into the bedroom. Once there, he lay her on the bed. His eyes smoldered at her. He shed his clothing and joined her, lying against her side. He claimed her mouth, his kiss slow, hungry, and needy. His hands slid down her body to her hips, and he rolled onto his back, taking her with him, until she lay on top of him, along his length.