Midnight Angel (7 page)

“Holly,” he said, trying to refocus her
thoughts as well as his.

“Dylan,” she mimicked, her hands sliding
into the waistband of his jeans.

She pushed herself forward on the counter
until she sat at the very edge and he was nestled between her
thighs. He couldn’t mistake her intent or her need. The warmth and
heat emanating from her body called to him in a primitive way he
couldn’t mistake. His body throbbed, his erection thrusting against
his jeans, and suddenly discussion could definitely wait.

Eyes glittering, she met his gaze. “You were
saying?”

He shook his head. “It’ll keep.” His
surprise would make a better gift given at the right time.

“I thought so. Now, how about letting me
have my wicked way with you?” Her lips turned upward in a seductive
grin.

He still wasn’t used to this teasing side of
her, but he sure liked it. “What’d you have in mind?”

She hopped down from the counter, and with
deft hands, she opened his jeans. As he watched, his breath coming
in shorter and shorter gasps, she pulled the denim over his hips
and thighs. When they reached his ankles, he kicked the pants
aside. His briefs quickly followed, and his freed erection sprang
to life.

Pulse pounding, heart racing, he met her
gaze. “What now?”

She patted the counter where she’d once sat.
“Have a seat.”

He complied, shivering when the Formica
touched his bare skin. “Damn, that’s cold.”

“Don’t worry. I have every intention of
warming you,” she said, her voice hot and thick. “Do you remember
what my favorite ice cream topping is?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m guessing it’s
still that Marshmallow Fluff you were just eating.”

She reached for the jar and brought it
beside him. He glanced from the gooey white fluff to the wicked
gleam in her eyes. “You wouldn’t,” he said, the blood rushing in
his ears at the very thoughts soaring through his head.

“You don’t think I would?” She dabbed her
finger into the jar and slowly placed it into her mouth, sucking
the crème from her finger with her tongue, grazing with her teeth,
all her movements deliberately, seductively slow.

His erection throbbed harder and his mouth
grew dry.

“Well?” she asked.

“I dare you,” he said, using the words that
had once provoked her into sneaking out of her house to meet him by
the corner of her street so they could go make out in his car.

She met and held his stare for a brief
moment before dipping her fingers into the jar. Drawing a deep
breath, she coated the head of his erect penis with the Fluff. He’d
wanted to watch, but as her fingers and the sticky substance
touched his aching member, the sensation was too much. He leaned
his head back against the cabinets and groaned aloud, knowing he
was powerless and completely at her mercy.

Forcing his eyes open, he noticed that Holly
was trembling, perhaps even more than Dylan, which told him a lot.
Despite the playful teasing, she was deadly serious about him. He
knew it in his gut.

Lowering her head, she bent and took him
into her mouth, drawing him in deep. The moist warmth was nearly
his undoing. He nearly came then, before she even began working
him, but he managed to exercise control. He gripped the edge of the
countertop hard with his fingertips, his head still resting against
the cabinets, his body shaking with a restraint that lasted only
until she began a steady, rhythmic sucking.

Her tongue licked the Fluff, licking at
him
, pulling, teasing up and down. She grazed the head of
his penis with gentle teeth, then soothed long, luxurious laps of
her tongue, never letting up. He was shaking even before his climax
hit, and when it did, the sensation rocked him hard, wave after
wave consuming him. Lost in the world she created, he came. And
carne. And came.

When he’d caught his breath, he opened his
eyes to find her staring back at him. He cupped her head in his
hands and looked into her warm, giving eyes.

“I love you, babe.” He’d meant to kiss her.
The words toppled out instead.

She straightened and took a step back. Dylan
realized his mistake immediately. He’d spoken too soon, and he’d
shaken her up badly. But before he could say a word to smooth
things over, the telephone rang and she dove to answer it.

Cursing, he jumped down and pulled on his
pants. He wanted to deal with her fully dressed and fix his mistake
as quickly as possible before she withdrew even further.

Unfortunately, she returned from the phone
call, reaching for her purse. “It’s an emergency. I have to
go.”

She’d turned from his seductress to shaken
woman to in-control doctor in seconds flat. He respected it.
Respected her.

“Let me drive you.” For selfish reasons he
didn’t want to be apart from her right now.

She gave a curt nod. “I don’t have time to
argue. Robert Hansen’s five-year-old fell and hit his head on the
corner of a table. He’s got a huge gash, and there’s lots of blood.
I said I’d meet them at the hospital.”

“Good thing I got dressed,” he said,
laughing.

Unfortunately, she didn’t join in.

* * *

Holly had never been happy at someone else’s
expense and she wasn’t about to start feeling that way now, but she
couldn’t deny she’d been so darn grateful for the phone call that
had distracted her from Dylan’s heartfelt words. Her heart pounded
hard in her chest even now, as she filled out the last of the
paperwork on Jason Hansen. The child had received stitches and had
just narrowly missed hitting his eye on the table corner in his
fall. He was one lucky little boy, she thought, signing her name
and handing the clipboard in at the hospital desk.

Dylan waited for her in the lounge, where
she’d have to face him and their shared afternoon. She’d started by
using sex and foreplay as a distraction. A means of avoiding more
serious discussion that might lead to him telling her he needed to
return to L.A. But her deliberately seductive move had turned into
a completely emotional one for her.

She’d wanted to give to him in a way he
couldn’t possibly forget. She wanted to be indelibly etched in his
mind forever just as she knew that moment would be a permanent part
of her, heart and soul. And now she had to live with the
consequences.

She didn’t doubt he loved her. It was his
ability to do anything about his feelings that she didn’t trust.
His work would take him away from her, and the lifestyle in L.A.
couldn’t possibly compete with small-town life in Acton,
Massachusetts. Sure, he said he was tired of the throngs of people
and fans, tired of the phoniness in his world, but he’d wither and
die here. And she refused to be the reason or the one he grew to
resent.

Steeling herself for any discussion he might
want to have, she walked back towards the small waiting room and
strode through the double doors. There must have been a lull in
traffic because the room was empty except for Dylan, who’d curled
into the corner of the plastic couch and dozed off. A lock of his
hair had fallen over his forehead, and his head rested against his
balled-up leather jacket.

Her heart turned over at the sight, and she
knelt down next to the couch. “Hey, sleepyhead.” She nudged his arm
and tried to wake him, but he’d always been a deep sleeper, so it
took a few more tries before he finally jerked his head upward.

“Hey.” He rubbed his eyes with his palms.
“Are you all finished?”

She nodded.

“How’s the kid?”

“Other than a few stitches, he’s really
lucky. But I doubt he’ll be in the mood to wrestle with his
brothers anytime soon.”

Dylan laughed. “He’s lucky to have you as
his doctor.” His voice sobered, and Holly sensed his serious mood,
return. “I watched you in action, you know.”

Embarrassed, she shook her head. “Once I get
started in an emergency, I don’t see much else around me.”

“I realized that.” Holly’s dedication and
abilities hadn’t come as a surprise to him, yet his respect for her
had grown tremendously. And in an odd way, seeing her work had
validated his decision to leave her behind all those years ago

He rose and stretched out his muscles, which
were cramped from being in one position for so long. “Are you ready
to head home?”

“Uh, yeah.” She seemed surprised.

They walked to the parking lot, and he
slipped his arm around her shoulders. “I’m sure you’re
exhausted.”

She nodded. “I could use a hot shower and a
good night’s sleep.”

“Sounds like a definite plan,” he murmured,
and in case she wasn’t sure what he meant, he nuzzled his lips
against her neck and whispered what the two of them could do in
that shower before she collapsed from exhaustion in her bed. With
him by her side.

She laughed with him, her sexy way of
agreeing to his idea. But she still seemed wary.

He guessed she was waiting for him to bring
up his comment in her kitchen earlier. He didn’t plan on doing so.
In fact, while alone here waiting, he’d decided to continue on as
if nothing unusual had happened between them. He had little time
before he had to return to L.A. for a meeting with his agent and a
movie producer, which had nothing to do with superhero roles and
everything to do with a part he was dying to tackle.

He wished he had the luxury of time to lay
things out for Holly a little more slowly and with more care than
he’d shown by blurting out his feelings in her kitchen. But what he
didn’t have in time, they more than made up for in emotional
connection. Beyond that, Dylan had no choice but to let fate play
itself out.

* * *

After their eventful night, Dylan and Holly
slept late. They woke, made love and fell asleep again. The day
passed in a delicious way and then they arrived at Dylan’s mother’s
house. Dinner at the Northwood house was just like being back in
high school, when life was simple and everything seemed rosy and
good, Holly thought. She’d called her mother and aunt to say hi
before going over to Dylan’s. She missed her mother, but understood
her aunt Rose had broken her hip and needed help and so Holly tried
not to dwell on the emptiness of being without her own family
during the holiday season. And once she arrived at Dylan’s house,
that emptiness began to be filled.

Dylan’s mother had cooked dinner, and the
house smelled delicious, warm and inviting. His sister, Amy, and
her husband, Tom, and their young son, a precocious three-year-old
named Matt, sat in the family room in front of the big-screen
television Dylan had purchased for his mother’s birthday. Typical
males, Dylan and Tom talked football and took turns keeping the
fire stoked and the room warm, while Amy and Matt provided the
sounds of laughter and squabbling. Amy kept busy diving to keep
Matt out of trouble near the hearth and away from an old black Lab
that dozed in the corner and whose tail Matt liked to pull.

Holly, after being thrown out of the kitchen
for attempting to help, finally settled in beside Dylan, trying
desperately not to like the feeling of being part of this family
too much. But how could she not enjoy and feel welcome when every
so often Dylan would reach out and massage her shoulders or idly
twist her hair around his finger as he talked. His family all
treated her as if she belonged here, as if she and Dylan had never
broken up or been apart.

But most defining for Holly was that here in
his old home, Dylan’s stardom and fame didn’t exist, making it too
easy for
her
to believe in a future. So much so that
throughout dinner and dessert, she had to keep reminding herself
that she’d succumbed to these fantasies once before and suffered
nothing but heartache as a result.

By the time Dylan drove her home, she was
stuffed from the good food and overwhelmed by memories and desire.
When he turned and asked if he could come in, saying yes came as
naturally to her as breathing.

Coming on top of the heavy-duty family
scene, Dylan wanted to tread carefully now. Holly had relaxed in a
way he hadn’t seen since his return, and he didn’t want to lose
that mellow, comfortable mood.

“That was so nice.” She dropped the keys
onto the shelf in her front hall. “I love your family.”

“Well, that’s good, because they love you
too.” His gaze darted to hers, wondering if any version of the word
love would put her on edge.

“Can I get you coffee or something to
drink?”

He accepted the subject change with a nod.
“A cup of coffee sounds great.”

“Then make yourself at home.” She smiled and
gestured to the couch in the family room.

While she headed to make him coffee he
didn’t really need or want, he readied the room for just one of the
surprises he had in store for Holly.

* * *

Thanks to a fast-brewing machine that made
four cups of coffee at a time, Holly had coffee ready for herself
and Dylan pretty quickly. She knew he liked his black, so she added
milk and sugar for herself and walked back into her family
room.

Instead of the bright space she’d left
behind, Dylan had transformed the room. He’d shut off the overhead
lights and turned on a small lamp in the corner along with the
multicolored bulbs on her Christmas tree. From her small CD player,
uplifting holiday music filled the air around them, while Dylan sat
on the couch with a small wrapped box in his hand.

From across the room, she felt the heat of
his stare branding her much like his heated touch. God, he was
sexy. No doubt every woman who saw a similar pose from the pages of
a magazine dreamed of him staring at her, wanting her, only having
eyes for
her
.

He was every woman’s fantasy, and for this
short span of time he belonged to her. She was lucky, but she
wasn’t deluded by his fame. She had enough self-respect to believe
that for as long as Dylan was with her, he was lucky too.