Midnight Angel (5 page)

His hands came to rest at her waist. “I told
you why I left. Don’t you want to know why I came back?”

She trembled, and desire wasn’t the reason.
“I’m really not sure I want to know. I can’t imagine with all
that’s happened in your life that you just couldn’t stop thinking
of me,” she said, forcing a laugh.

“I couldn’t stop thinking of you.”

Her heart filled with warmth. “You always
knew how to make me feel special, Dylan.” But common sense told her
not to read too much into his comment.

He’d come home to visit, the first time
since she’d been back home, and he came to see her in order to make
amends. The chemistry was just a bonus he’d opted to act on, and
she certainly hadn’t said no. She didn’t fault him for that, and
she didn’t fault herself for letting him back into her life. She
needed closure in order to move on. Being with Dylan was giving her
that now.

“I can charm anyone. That’s a fact.” He
winked, and she saw the movie star America adored. “But not you. I
never could bullshit you, and I don’t intend to try and start
now.”

“Well, good. Then we both understand you
came back to set things right between us.”

He nodded. “That’s one way of putting
it.”

And there was the probability that he meant
his words at face value. That he was home for a short time only.
Long enough to make things right and leave his mark, but short
enough that he wouldn’t get bored. For certain he’d be gone before
the itch to move on set in.

Knowing that, she wouldn’t mind getting all
of Dylan North that she could. “I think we’ve done enough talking,
don’t you?” she asked, feeling a wicked grin take hold as she
lowered her face to his.

“For now,” he agreed.

She nuzzled his neck, her cheek rubbing
against his and her lower body beginning to shift from side to
side, seeking to increase the building desire and friction between
them.

No sooner had she let out a low groan than
he flipped her onto her back, switching positions. When they’d been
together before, he’d always taken the lead. She was content to let
him do so now, certain her time would come to show him how she’d
changed and how she’d become more certain of herself and her
sexuality.

He pulled her shirt upward, exposing her
midriff, his eager hands branding her with their heat as he worked
his way upward to her lace bra. His fingertips teased beneath the
elastic, his palms finally coming to rest where they belonged,
cupping her breasts in his hands.

“You’ve filled out,” he said, approval and
gruff desire in his tone.

“Like you’d remember.”

His expression changed, his features taking
on a wounded look. “You think I don’t?”

Unwilling to kill the moment with talk of
the women who’d come in between, she shook her head. “I was joking.
I remember everything between us, and I’m sure you do too.”

His gaze softened. He pulled her top up and
over her head, then slipped her bra straps down her shoulders so
that he revealed her bare breasts to his hungry gaze.

Shockingly, she felt no embarrassment, only
a sense of rightness as he devoured her with one look. His thumbs
brushed insistently over her nipples, back and forth, until they
hardened into tight peaks and she felt the languorous pull straight
to her core. He dipped his head and began a steady suckling with
his mouth, his teeth lightly grazing, his tongue gently soothing,
but every motion carefully orchestrated to bring her higher and
higher, closer to the brink of orgasm.

She wanted his dark head bent at her chest
and his warm breath and heat on her breasts as she came apart in
his arms. And then she wanted him to fill her completely, so when
he left this time she had adult memories to tuck away with the
teenage ones she remembered.

“You always knew exactly how to make me
come,” she murmured, whispering into his hair as his mouth
continued to work ultimate magic.

He chuckled and she felt the vibration
throughout her body. “That’s because you’re so damn responsive.”
And as if to prove his point, he blew a wisp of air across her
breasts, the cool breeze puckering her nipples and causing her hips
to shift restlessly beneath his.

“See?” He splayed his hand across her belly.
“And if I do this, you’ll be moaning in no time.” His fingertips
teased beneath the waistband of her jeans, lightly brushing the
triangle of hair just waiting for his touch.

“Dylan,” she whispered, her body his for the
taking.

“I hear you, babe.” He reached for the snap
on her jeans at the same time she sought to release his confined
erection.

But the jarring ring of his cell phone
interrupted them. “I don’t want to answer it,” he muttered.

The doctor in her disagreed. “Just make sure
it’s not an emergency.”

He rolled off her and groaned, grabbing for
his phone. “Hello,” he barked into his cell. “Mmm-hmm,” he said,
then listened some more. “Exactly what I’m looking for.” More
listening and then, “I’ll be there.”

His voice rose in definite pleasure, and she
wondered if it was a role or a part in a movie he was talking
about. She wondered too how preoccupied he’d be now that something
big had obviously come up.

“Anything important?” she asked after he’d
snapped his phone shut and rolled over to face her, head propped
against his hand.

“Just some things I have in the works,” he
said vaguely, his eyes twinkling.

“Sounds exciting.”

He reached over and rubbed his finger across
her bottom lip. “Not as exciting as what I want to do with you,” he
said and pulled her beneath him again.

Before Dylan could pick up where they’d left
off, Holly jumped up and headed for the kitchen to pull the lasagne
from the oven to let it cool a bit before dinner. He took the few
minutes alone to evaluate things between them so far.

He knew he’d made progress with Holly, but
not enough for her to believe in a future. Certainly not enough to
tell her that the phone call had been from a real estate agent
who’d found him five acres of wooded land and the perfect setting
to build a house not far from Acton. Dylan had reached a point
where he was ready to settle down away from the insanity that was
Hollywood. With or without Holly in his life, he planned to
purchase property and make it his permanent home between movie
shoots.

They’d already talked about his reasons for
leaving and coming back now, but she was still skittish and
unwilling to trust emotionally. He didn’t mind starting by winning
over her body in the hopes that her heart and mind would soon
follow.

He paused in her bedroom and returned with a
blanket, spreading it out over the floor in the family room and
waiting until Holly came out of the kitchen.

“Did we ever make love beneath the Christmas
tree?” he asked her.

Instead of bolting or growing wary, a slow,
sexy smile curved her lips. “Not that I recall. We’d have been too
afraid of getting caught.”

“There’s no one to catch us now,” he
deliberately hinted.

“You don’t say.” She stepped towards him, an
extra wiggle in her hips. He couldn’t mistake the fact that she
remained half-dressed in her jeans, bra and nothing else. She
hadn’t opted to dress or cover herself, another good sign.

He sat back and waited.

“So if I were to undress right here, no one
would mind?” she asked, becoming a teasing seductress in front of
his eyes.

Before he could reply, she tipped her head
to one side, and as he watched, she reached for and released the
front clasp of her bra.

His breath caught as she slowly shimmied the
straps off her shoulders and pulled the cups away so her full
breasts were bare, and he was drooling.

“I sure as hell don’t mind,” he said, awed
by her rounded breasts, flat stomach and sense of confidence, all
of which turned him on.

“Then this won’t bother you either.” She
unsnapped the button on her jeans and lowered the zipper.

He swallowed hard.

Hands at her hips, she eased the waistband
down. He didn’t know where to focus first, the expanse of pale skin
on her stomach or the blond triangle of hair she slowly revealed
when she’d hooked her thumbs into her underwear and drawn them down
too.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said, shocked he could
formulate a coherent sentence.

She smiled.

Surely this physical trust had to mean he’d
made more headway in breaching her barriers than he’d thought. If
not, he was going to be one miserable son of a bitch in the
morning.

But damn he’d enjoy tonight.

He reached for her, but she playfully
smacked at his hand. “No touching until we’re equally at risk of
being caught naked,” she said, laughing.

“If you’re asking me to strip, no problem.”
He grabbed for the fly on his jeans, which had grown way too tight,
but she stopped him with one hand.

“I want you to put yourself in
my
hands.”

Ironic. He wanted her trust. She was asking
for his.

He raised his hands in the air and sucked in
a deep breath as she popped the button on his jeans and, with some
maneuvering on his part, removed his clothing.

Then she splayed her hands against his
chest, her touch warm and inviting. “Did you mean it when you said
you’d missed me?”

In her voice, he heard the uncertainty as
the sassy seductress warred with the woman who still felt used and
left behind.

He twined their fingers together and pulled
her onto the blanket. “I missed you,” he assured her. “Not a day
went by that I didn’t think of you.”

She moistened her lips. “Me too,” she
admitted. “Even if it was just in my dreams.”

His heart pounding hard in his chest, he
leaned over her, his rock-hard erection poised at her moist
entrance. He wanted to be inside her more than he wanted to
breathe. But he also needed to know she felt and desired the same
thing.

“Dylan?”

“Hmm?”

“Show me how much you missed me, because I
know I missed you,” Holly whispered, telling him exactly what he
needed to hear.

He reached down with one hand, teasing her
dewy folds, easing first one finger and then another inside her.
She arched her back and moaned, and with a shuddering breath, he
thrust hard and deep, entering her at last.

He was immediately clasped in her moist
heat, her inner walls squeezing him tight. Both the physical and
emotional sensations were stronger than any he could ever remember,
and his pulse beat hard in his throat as he lost any semblance of
coherent thought.

As Dylan stilled inside her, Holly’s breath
caught and she lay motionless, adjusting to his size and length, to
the exquisite feel of him, hard and rigid inside her, where he
belonged. She clenched him tighter, and the pulling sensation grew,
spiraling and taking her to dizzying new heights.

He met her gaze and withdrew slowly, so she
felt every hard ridge of his desire until suddenly she was empty
and aching without him. “Dylan, please.” She arched, trying to pull
him back inside her again.

“Happy to, babe,” he said and thrust with
his hips, his hard erection filling her and making her whole once
more.

She let out a sob of gratitude, unable to
hide her emotions.

“Feels so right, doesn’t it?” he asked, his
voice gruff.

She could manage only a low moan from deep
in her throat.

He chuckled, but his body trembled, his
control obviously stretched to the breaking point. So was hers. She
lifted her legs, pulling her knees backward and drawing him
inexorably deeper inside her body, until they were so close, she
couldn’t imagine they were anything but one. And then with a groan,
he released his tenuous control and began to grind against her,
moving and pumping his hard body into hers.

Their connection was electric, their
movements synchronized and perfect, as if they had an unspoken
understanding of each other’s bodies and needs. Her fingers gripped
his back as she gasped for breath, shuddering and coming closer and
closer to coming apart. She didn’t think he could get any deeper,
doubted she could
feel
any more emotion, when she
instinctively hooked her ankles together behind his back. Locked in
place, he rolled his hips against hers, grinding at the same time
he found the perfect spot and her body shattered from inside out.
Her orgasm hit hard, and she rode it out to its conclusion, her
climax wringing everything out of her.

Just then he took her off guard and shifted
positions. She caught on and helped until he lay flat on his back
and she was astride him. She hadn’t thought she could move or that
another orgasm was possible, but when he shifted his hips beneath
her, she changed her mind. The rhythmic rotation of his pelvis and
the intimate contact of her feminine mound against his body had the
contractions starting all over again.

“Do it,” he told her. “Make me come,” he
said, his hands gripping her waist tight.

She did as he asked and took control,
shifting her hips from side to side, lifting her body up and down
over his, so he moved in and out at
her
whim. And it
seemed that was what he’d been waiting for before he let himself go
too.

His orgasm was explosive, his body
practically slamming upward into hers and making her peak a second
time. But now she forced her eyes open and watched him as he came,
eyes shut tight, jaw clenched and lost in shared pleasure and
ecstasy, and it was all she could do not to cry and let her
overwhelming emotions betray her.

He fell back against the floor, his hands
still on her waist, as sated and exhausted as she. She collapsed
against him, their breathing coming together in rapid gulps. His
heart pounded against her forehead, and she swallowed hard,
fighting back the feelings he’d inspired. The overwhelming love she
felt for this man frightened her because she did still love him.
Had probably never stopped.