Protecting Dallas

by Krista Wolf

  The apple-eating cute guy was crawling his way onto him.

  Don’t just stand there Holly! Go help him!

  My legs moved on their own. I was walking at first, then running over to where the two men wrestled in the grass at the edge of the path. There was a grunt of exertion, then a cry of pain as the thief kicked my would-be hero square in the jaw. He scrambled to his feet and dove into the next wooded area, stopping only once to glance back in my direction.

  I gasped as we made eye contact… and then he was gone.

  Holly, move!

  Impotently I realized I was frozen again. By the time I ran up to help my champion, he was already on his feet.

  “A—Are you okay?”

  The cute guy, now minus the apple, was rubbing his jaw with one hand. In the other, at the end of his outstretched arm…

  “My bag!”

  I took it and hugged it to my body. Then I rushed forward and hugged him.

  “Thank you so much!” I cried. “Oh my God, you saved my life!”

  He laughed. “Well not your actual life,” he replied breathlessly. “But your purse at least.”

  “But my whole life is in here!” I shot back. “Besides, I got paid today. I just cashed my check.”

  He started brushing himself off, and I moved to help him. Leaves and dirt fell away as my hands rubbed his chest, his arms, his back. Every surface I touched was hard with muscle. Every bit of him was in spectacular shape.

  “You really carry cash?” he grinned. “I figured everyone has direct deposit these days, and—”

  Our eyes met. From this distance, I recognized him immediately.

  “I know you!”

  My hero grinned back at me. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  “You’re in my class. My psych class. My—”

  “Statistics for Behavioral Sciences,” he grinned. “Yeah.”

  “That’s why you were looking at me. That’s why you were staring.”

  He laughed out loud. It was one of the better sounds I’d heard in a long time. “Was I really staring?” I watched as his skin flushed red. “Sorry, I— ”

  “No no,” I smiled. “Please don’t be sorry. You’re my hero! You saved me. Saved my stuff.”

  He nodded back to the bench, where my book lay face down on the ground. “If the thief were smart he’d have left your bag alone and grabbed one of our textbooks,” he joked. “They’re like a zillion dollars each anyway.”

  He stuck out his hand. I took it, and he squeezed me firmly but gently.

  “I’m Brody by the way. Brody Valentine.”

  “Valentine?” I smiled. “That’s really your last name.”

  He frowned immediately, but I could tell he was only pretending to be offended. “Why? What’s wrong with—”

  “Nothing,” I said quickly. “Actually it’s kinda cool.”

  Brody guided me off the path protectively as another pair of joggers ran by. Innocent ones, this time.

  “Well,” I said after an awkward pause, “you have to take something.”

  I began rifling through my bag, but he laid his hand over mine.

  “You have to take a reward for—”

  “Are you kidding me?” he said. “A reward? For what? For tackling that asshole?” He grinned boyishly. “Anyone would’ve done that. Although I will say you got lucky. Instead of some slow, heavyweight stranger, you got one who ran cross-country all through high school.”

  I chuckled. Damn, he was even cuter close up.

  “And on top of that we’re not strangers,” he said. “We’re classmates.”

  His sparkling green eyes were almost mesmerizing. They were an incredible emerald color, flecked with the most beautiful streaks of black.

  “T—That’s true,” I stumbled. “But you still have to take something as a reward. Let me at least buy you coffee or—”

  “Wanna reward me?”

  I nodded quickly.

  “Then go out with me tonight.”

  It took a good three seconds for his words to sink in. “Wait, what?”

  “Let me take you out,” he said simply. “Or if you want, you can take me out.” He smirked back at me proudly, and even that was cute. “You did say you wanted to reward me, right?”

  “Yes,” I said hesitantly. “But I, uh… I don’t have a car.”

  “Then I’ll pick you up.”

  I felt a wave of heat. Suddenly it seemed a lot more like ninety degrees than sixty.

  “Unless you have a boyfriend, or—”

  “No,” I said.

  “Or hate devilishly-handsome men with superhuman speed, who—”

  “No,” I giggled. “Nothing like that.”

  In one swift motion he pulled out his phone and unlocked it. “Text yourself,” he said, handing it over. “So I’ll have your number.”

  It all happened so fast. So boldly, yet naturally as well.

  “Uh, okay.”

  Before I knew it I was doing what he asked, and handing his phone back to him. Surprisingly, I found that I wanted to! My handsome savior looked so well put-together. So roguishly hot. So charming and sexy, and—

  “And your name?” he grinned, looking down at his phone.

  “Oh, sorry. That might help, right?” I extended my hand nervously. “I’m Holly.”

  My classmate leaned in and wrapped his strong arms around me instead. He gave me the biggest, most satisfying hug.

  “Text me your address, Holly,” he smiled, before walking away. He left the scent of leather and a delicious hint of cologne in his wake. “I’m picking you up at seven.”

  Five

  BRODY

  She looked absolutely adorable, standing on the corner in a pair of pre-ripped jeans and a tight white sweater. Not to mention her little lace-up black boots, which looked unfortunately new.

  I could tell by the look of surprise on her face that she hadn’t expected me this way. I figured that much as I pulled up. I hadn’t really told her.

  “A motorcycle?”

  I smiled through my open visor and handed her a helmet. She was wearing her hair straight, so I didn’t think it would be an issue.

  “Ever been on one?”

  “I’m from Texas,” Holly chuckled, throwing one leg over the back with practiced ease. “What do you think?”

  A minute later we were speeding uptown, her boots on the footpegs, her arms wrapped pleasantly around my waist. Her coat was thankfully short, and buttoned up tight. Though it was dark, it was still unseasonably warm.

  “Where are we going?” she shouted over my shoulder.

  “For a ride,” I called back.

  It was incredible, being out on my bike this late in the year. Even so, I knew it was probably my last ride until spring. My last chance to get out before the snows came and everything iced over, and the dirt trucks spread enough sand over the roads to make them virtually unrideable.

  Damn, she feels good!

  I zipped up 5th Ave, feeling Holly lean tight with me on the lane changes. She definitely had ridden before. She was a great passenger, and one who didn’t fight the turns.

  Saving her in the park today had been thrilling. Not only did it give me an excuse to talk to her, but it made me a temporary hero in her eyes. The cute little brunette in my psych class was no longer just someone I saw on campus or studying in the park. She was on my bike now. Her legs spread, hugging tight against my body.

  We skirted the Park, continuing north through Harlem. Christmas decorations flew by — colorful lights and wreaths, dangling from streetlights and doorways, all the way up Amsterdam Avenue. It was beautiful. Always was. Maybe even more so that I could enjoy it without freezing my hands off.

  “I’ve never been up this far,” Holly said, as we turned onto Broadway. She laughed musically. “Where the hell are you taking me?”

  “Connecticut!”

  I felt her thighs squeeze deliciously against mine. It gave her enough leverage to punch me playfully in the r
ibs.

  “Alright, alright,” I laughed. “Hang tight. We’re almost there.”

  It was another half mile before Fort Tyron Park came into view. We parked and continued on foot, me pulling Holly along excitedly by her warm, feminine hand.

  “Wow, this place is gorgeous!” she marveled. Her head moved like it was on a swivel. “I never even knew it was here.”

  “Not many people do,” I said. “It’s so far out of the way, it’s almost not even in the City.”

  Cobblestone paths lead us deeper into the heart of the wooded preserve. The sounds of traffic and car horns seemed to fade with every step we took.

  We walked the paths for a while, still holding hands. The two of us enjoying the silence, marred only by the steady sounds of our booted feet.

  “Are you cold?” I asked, pulling her into me.

  “No… I’m good.”

  I could see her blushing, even through her rosy cheeks. Our fingers were interlocked, and when I squeezed she squeezed back.

  “If you get cold, just tell me,” I said.

  “Why, are you gonna give me your jacket?” she teased. When I didn’t answer she shrugged. “Hmm, I guess chivalry isn’t dead after all.”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Funny you should say ‘chivalry’.”

  The path we were on opened up, and a long series of castle-like structures came into view. Holly’s eyes went adorably wide.

  “Oh wow…” she breathed. “What are—”

  “These are the Cloisters,” I answered. “A bunch of Gothic hallways and monasteries from Europe, dismantled in the 1930’s and brought all the way here.”

  Her bright eyes scanned the ancient stones. They looked so foreign, so out of place, especially tucked away deep within New York City.

  “C’mon,” I said. “Let’s go!”

  For the next hour or so we wandered through all four of the open galleries, interconnected to form a square. In the center of the quadrangle was a lush garden that would undoubtedly be amazing in the summer. Right now it was still beautiful, but in a wintery way.

  It was amazing to me, that such history could be taken apart and put back together half a world away. The interior was a breathtaking array of arches and pillars. Of colorful tapestries, stained-glass windows, frescoes and sculptures. Much of it had been decorated for Christmas, lending what could’ve been considered a cold place a warm, holiday feel.

  Holly was a good sport, even when I made her stop several times to take different photos. I even took one of us — an adorable selfie, smiling cheek to cheek while I held the camera at arm’s length.

  Eventually we stopped at their tiny cafe, for a pair of coffees. Relaxing at our little table, I was able to really give her the once-over. Unapologetically, too.

  “This place is adorable,” Holly smiled. She threw me an accusatory look. “Maybe a little too adorable.”

  “Oh?”

  “I can only imagine how many first dates you’ve brought here,” she laughed. “I’ll bet it charmed the pants off every one of them.”

  I pretended to look under the table.

  “No wise-ass,” she giggled. “My pants are not coming off.”

  “Not yet anyway,” I confirmed. “But please let me know when they do.”

  She laughed again, and that was a good sign. Holly wasn’t just pretty, she was sexy too. There was a smoldering sensuality about her that I really liked, hiding just beneath her witty surface. All I needed to do was break through.

  “So how many?” she shot back. “Two? Four? Six? A girl’s gotta know.”

  “Actually,” I sighed, leaning back in my chair, “this is my first time here.”

  My cute little classmate furrowed her brow. “C’mon…”

  “No, really. This is just one of the many places on my list.”

  Now she actually looked intrigued. “Your list?”

  “Yeah, I have a list. It’s… well, it’s a little complicated.”

  “Try me.”

  Her eyes looked almost turquoise in this light. So pretty. So bright, even in the cafe’s dim light.

  “Alright,” I said. “So I have this list of things to do and places to go, in and around New York City. Each month I choose one and force myself to visit. No matter what I’m doing, I just go.”

  She stared back at me over her mug. “That… actually sounds kinda cool.”

  “Right? It’s my grandmother’s idea,” I admitted.

  “Your grandmother?”

  I nodded. “My grandparents raised me. My sister too. Our parents got divorced when we were eleven, and they both just sorta took off in different directions.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “That’s what we said,” I laughed.

  There was a moment of silence, but for some reason it wasn’t awkward. Holly’s look was more one of admiration than pity — something I appreciated immediately.

  “Anyway, the whole ‘go someplace new’ thing was my grandmother’s idea. It was something she used to do, back when she could still get around.”

  “And you took it over.”

  “Yup. She’s still sort of living vicariously through me now. That’s why I bring her lots of photos of everything.”

  Holly was abruptly quiet. I couldn’t tell if she was weirded out, or—

  “Brody?”

  “Yes?”

  Her eyes looked glassy. “That’s one of the most adorable things anyone’s ever told me.”

  Now it was my turn to blush. All of a sudden I was glad for the bad lighting.

  “It’s kind of silly, I guess. I mean—”

  “No,” Holly said sternly. She reached across the table and took my hand. “It’s not.”

  Six

  HOLLY

  The ride downtown was a lot cozier, somehow way more intimate than the ride up. I snuggled against Brody’s back, trusting him implicitly as we zipped through the streets. My hands were locked even lower around the warmth of his abdomen, which felt scrumptiously hard and rippled beneath my interlaced fingers.

  God, he’s so… cute.

  Yes, he definitely was. But lots of guys were cute, and Brody went well beyond that. He was sexy too, carrying himself with a cool, casual confidence that made me feel safe and protected, even in the middle of nowhere. And the Cloisters had been a charming little oasis. The perfect place for a quiet cup of coffee with a broad-shouldered stranger, one with a bright, beautiful smile.

  And he’s definitely not a stranger, I reminded myself. Not anymore…

  We’d walked halfway back to his bike when Brody had pulled me against a lamppost. His kisses had been sensuous, so unspeakably hot, they’d practically melted me right there in his arms. It had been a long time since I felt passion like that. Far too long since I’d been held in a way that made me feel wanted… and not just superficially but with a desperate, pressing need.

  We’d continued making out in the middle of the park for what seemed like a long time, oblivious to our surroundings. His hands wandered downward, over my back, sliding dangerously below my hips. I’d gasped into his mouth as he cupped my ass, pulling me hard against him. Brody merely responded with a smug smile, nibbling sexily on my lower lip.

  Our mouths churned hotly, our tongues dueling as they rotated slowly against each other. All around us, the world stopped. The lamppost became our own private island; a glowing steel beacon in the darkness of the empty park. No one came down the path we were on — not a single, solitary person. It was the most solitude I’d had since leaving Texas, and for some reason it felt utterly magnificent.

  Back on the motorcycle, we arrived at my apartment all too fast. I was left standing in front of my building, handing my helmet back to Brody as he comfortably straddled his bike.

  “Wanna come up?” I asked boldly. “For a drink?”

  I really didn’t know who this new Holly was. But I knew I liked her a lot.

  “Sure.”

  We were in my apartment all of two seconds befor
e we were all over each other again. This time there was nothing stopping us — no inhibitions or worries about being walked up on by anyone else.

  No, it was just us, Brody’s rock-hard body pressing me hard up against the back of my door. His sweet mouth trailed kisses down my neck, as I helped him drop his leather jacket to the floor.

  Oh wow. This is going to happen…

  I swooned, clutching his head against me. Pulling him further downward, toward my breasts, even as his hands worked their way beneath my clothes to find warm, naked skin.

  “I want you.”

  It was all he said. It was all I needed. Two strong hands rolled up along my ribs, and I raised my arms for him as he pulled my shirt and sweater over my head.

  We couldn’t get undressed fast enough. Clothes flew everywhere, and my eyes went wide as his incredible chest came into view. It was full and strong and hairless… and so unlike Malcolm. His shoulders were broad, tapering down to two big arms that were corded with muscle.

  His face was in my chest now, buried in the perfumed valley between my breasts. I felt the welcome relief of my bra being unclasped, and then the warmth of his hands smoothing over them, my nipples stiffening in his two open palms.

  “I… It’s…”

  He nuzzled me, dragging his lips upward. His mouth closed over my areola, and I felt the slow swirl of his tongue.

  “It’s been a while since…”

  Brody responded by cupping me from behind. He pulled me tightly against him, our bodies molding into each other so perfectly it was like we were made for each other.

  “It’s okay,” he murmured into my breast. An electric shiver ran through me as his palm slid downward along the flat of my stomach. Instinctively I was on my tiptoes, gasping, as his fingers pierced the waistband of my thong…

  “We’ll go slow,” Brody grinned.

  My mind was spinning, but my body was responding feverishly to his every touch. In a flash of clarity I realized I needed him, and not just his body against mine. I needed him inside me. Spreading my legs wide. Filling me up the way I loved and craved, the way I hadn’t been filled in ages, not since before my ex-boyfriend’s lame attempts at satisfying me.