The Bare Facts (13 page)

After checking in, the man who gave them their equipment and signed them in instructed them to head to the river. Dylan grabbed Haley's hand as she all but skipped down the embankment to where people were gathering near the rafts that lay like big black rubber whales.

There they put the snug wet suits over the lightweight tights and shirts, then layered the windbreakers over the wet suits for maximum protection from the wet and wind.

This close to the water they could hear the rushing up ahead and Haley's mouth turned up in an excited grin. She quickly braided her loose windblown hair and secured it with an elastic band she had thought to put around her wrist.

Her excitement was contagious. He could feel the vibes from her body. When it came time to launch the boats, Haley volunteered. Dylan got great pleasure watching her tight black butt bending over to set the raft into the water. Then they were in it and on the river. Paddles were distributed and they were on their way.

“You look great in those tights by the way. Too bad we had to cover them with wet suits.”

The guide started talking. “We're running Class III rapids, which means that we'll get numerous waves that are high and irregular, rocks, eddies, rapids with some passages clear and some narrow, but we've got an experienced group of people and one beginner. Haley, take a bow.”

From where she sat, Haley took a bow. All the rafters voiced their encouragement. He liked that she was interested in
him,
more than she was interested in his body and his tutoring. He had to check himself. He couldn't let that matter. Yet, try as he might, he couldn't get rid of that soft glow inside.

The first rapid was upon them and the guide instructed them to paddle, which they all did enthusiastically. He heard Haley's whoop of excitement as the raft plunged sideways in the turbulent water. Water sloshed over the side and hit Haley in the face, but she persevered, never deterring from her paddling. He was drenched as well, the spray flowed over all of them in an exhilarating arc. The raft pitched and they shot out of the rapids into calmer water. Haley raised her paddle and whooped loudly. “That was fantastic. More!”

Everyone laughed because they all knew exactly what she was feeling—a sense of elation and accomplishment for going through the water and not letting it master you.

As they continued down the river and encountered more difficult rapids, Haley never faltered. She
pressed onward and Dylan knew that he'd given her something special by bringing her out here. Sure she'd get her column, but he'd given her something precious to him. He'd given her something of himself.

 

I
T WASN'T UNTIL
they were standing at the motorcycle after having a full day of activity that Haley asked him. They were dressed in the dry clothes Dylan had brought along.

“So you've done this before.”

“Yeah. You could say that.”

She grabbed his shoulder and turned him, her eyes searching his. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Ever since I was a child. My father used to bring me here more times than I can count before…” He shrugged.

“Before what?”

Dylan was silent, staring out at the river. “Before he made a bad investment and lost most of his money.”

Haley put her hand on his arm and it made him feel so good. “I wondered why you had to put yourself through school when your parents owned that magnificent cabin.”

“My dad was never down for long. He couldn't afford it at the time, and as I said I got assistance from the firm.”

She studied his face, “But NYU couldn't have been your first choice.”

Dylan looked away, remembering the threats and
the falling-out he'd had over choosing NYU. “No. NYU was my first choice. A hard-won first choice.”

“Let me guess. Your father wanted you to go somewhere else.”

“Brown.”

“And you didn't want to go? It's a good school.”

“How do you know I got in?” he asked, releasing the helmets and handing one to her.

She accepted the helmet and smiled. “Dylan. I've seen what you can do with an ad. You got in, didn't you?”

He nodded. “I got in.”

“That's really admirable that you stood up for what you really wanted.”

Dylan shrugged, suddenly self-conscious about what he'd suffered for going against his father's wishes. “It came with a price. My dad was vindictive and made me suffer for my choice. He hurt people I loved because I didn't do what he wanted.”

“I'm so sorry.”

She touched his face, her eyes soft. He realized he wanted to do as many heroic things as he possibly could to get her to look at him like that again. She stood on tiptoe and gently kissed his mouth.

“Your father wouldn't approve of me, would he?”

He held on to her, knowing he was on shaky ground. She was adamant about not wanting anything but the sex. He should have complied, but he wanted her to look at him as a man with facets and personality, not as an object. He laughed softly to himself. Talk about a reversal.

“No, he wouldn't. I dated this girl in my freshman year of college. She was a really nice, sweet girl, but when I brought her home to meet my parents, they deemed her unsuitable because she didn't have the right background.

“I went against my father's wishes, and he used his contacts to jeopardize her father's job. My father made sure I knew that it would be my fault, so I stopped seeing her.”

“I don't really scare that easily.”

There hadn't been many people in his life that he would lean on and depend upon. He'd always stood on his own. It's what his father had forced on him. But in the soft night he wanted to be absorbed into Haley's embrace. He wanted to know that there was a place he didn't have to be the perfect son, the dynamic ad executive, the guy with all the answers or the fantasy man in a woman's imagination. In her arms, he wanted to be Dylan.

He knew he couldn't admit that to her because she would be the kind of woman that would strive to love him for who he was and he didn't want to encourage her to do that. He had seen the look on Mrs. Westin's face and he had known that she found Haley unsuitable. He felt guilty as hell that he hadn't defended her, but when Haley didn't mention the incident, he was convinced that she just didn't care, which only made him admire her that much more. She had a mission to become a writer. He was a means to her end. So he didn't tell her that he brought her here to see a piece of his soul. He didn't say that he had half a
mind to chuck the Westins of the world and strike out on his own. Build his own agency. He didn't tell her any of these things. And like the fleeting moment that it was, it passed and became too late.

He straddled the bike and Haley slid onto the seat, pressing herself against him with a soft sigh.

Two more fantasies were all they had left. When that was gone, they would go their separate ways.

H
ALEY ALMOST TRIPPED
over the cooler that hadn't been there earlier that morning. Right, she thought. Ice. That was what the fantasy was all about. That's why they were here.

She knelt down to peek inside, but just then Dylan opened the bathroom door and barked, “Keep your nosy nose out of that cooler.”

He walked into the room, fresh from his shower. He reached for her arm and pulled her against him. “Can't leave you alone for a minute.”

His hair was damp, he smelled wonderful. She ran her finger along his jawline. He kissed her softly and he tasted good, too.

He walked over to the bed and unbuckled the other side of the saddle bags and handed Haley a pretty, pink plastic bag. “Why don't you take a hot shower and change into that?”

As soon as she closed the bathroom door, Haley opened the bag, dying to know what was inside. Her hand hit supple, butter-soft leather. She pulled out a bustier, a scrap of a leather thong and black mesh stockings.

Her mouth went dry and her heart began to pound.
She turned on the water and got into the hot spray. The water felt erotic against her skin as she soaped herself. After she dried herself off, she lathered on the expensive lotion Dylan had the forethought to provide. Slowly she put on the skimpy garments, feeling more and more reckless, more and more wild, more and more turned on.

She opened the bathroom door. A song about being born to be wild began to play on a small CD player near the bed. The room was dim, with a few candles burning with the erotic smell of jasmine. Dylan stood against the wall dressed in black leather pants and, her breath caught, a black leather harness hooked together with metal rings. They crisscrossed his chest, emphasizing the heavy muscles, his hard, ridged abdomen and the soft brown pads of his nipples. His hair was in the same bad-boy style, but the day's growth of stubble added a sense of danger, wildness, an aura of risk.

Like an instant flame, it was there—the powerful awareness of his physical presence: of his body coiled and primed, his bare foot pressed against the wall in a sexy, look-at-me stance. The candlelight caught and emphasized the upward curve of his eyebrows and sprinkled gilt on his lashes.

Forbidden. A midnight ride with an outlaw—an erotic promise in his dark green eyes. He burned with it, promising wild joy and romance.

Her throat grew thick with longing. He stood silently. His smile reckless, his eyes tender, like a sweet
note vibrating on the evening hush, a joy too intense for the heart to bear.

It terrified her. She felt the cliff, the crumbling edge. How easy it would be to fall. How amazing that there was only him to cling to.

His eyes slid over her and he pushed off the wall. She took two steps out of the bathroom and met him. He didn't touch her. His eyes roamed over her face, her slicked-back hair, the bustier, her exposed stomach and long swath of legs, then back up.

He leaned forward, his eyes level with hers. “You strike me as a woman who's looking for a wild ride.”

“And you look like just the guy to give me one.”

He smiled, that tough, bad-boy smile, with wicked cause. Haley curved toward him, wanting those taunting lips on hers. He leaned away and smiled, again his eyes full of the devil. The music ended and segued into another song about love and being reckless. He took her hands and braced them against the foot rail of the four-poster bed.

“Touch me with only your mouth, Haley.”

She clenched her hands around the rail and using it for support, she leaned forward.

She kissed his collarbone, sliding her lips along the ridge until she reached the half-moon indentation there. Her tongue snaked out and laved his salty skin. His taste was a wildness on her tongue. She wanted to press her whole body against his, but she remembered his order. Only her mouth. She slid her lips over the swell of muscle on his shoulder. Gently she bit him and was rewarded with his hiss of breath. She
laved him again for the pure pleasure of that taste. She drew her tongue down from his shoulder until she reached the sensitive, soft pad of his nipple. She took it into her mouth, sucking him with strong pulls of her lips and tongue, gently biting the tip as it hardened in her mouth.

He moaned softly and twisted against her mouth, his breathing ragged. She moved to the other nipple and gave it the same loving attention.

She was a leather-clad goddess, her mouth a wet flame taking him to heaven. It was utter torture to endure just her mouth, but he wanted to tease her, not realizing how hard it would be for him to hold back.

As soon as their eyes met and clashed, he could see the need burning like a blue mist just before desire grabbed hold of him in a viselike grip. It was too much, all that tall lushness, all that warm, seductive woman so close to him. Her soft blue eyes widened, the dark coal-colored pupils dilating; the rapid rise and fall of her breasts collectively declared how he affected her. A slight peach flush suffused her delicate cheekbones. And there in her eyes he lost his soul, his reason slipping away like mist across the moon.

Dylan gripped her wrists and placed her arms around his neck, refusing to give her any quarter. Or was he unable? They were caught in an incredible force. Two heavenly bodies on a collision course, whirling out of orbit, gravitating toward each other. Common sense didn't exist anymore. Something powerful drew him, dragged him and coerced him, heating his blood to boiling. His eyes fell to her
mouth, that lush, lush mouth, fashioned specifically for a man's lips to caress, savor, devour. Each moment he stared at her, the heat intensified until he couldn't breathe.

Her mouth dropped open softly, beckoning him in a sweet invitation, and he couldn't resist the blatant enticement. His mouth followed the path of his wayward, out-of-control thoughts down to her lips.

The lushness was not an illusion as he fell into the rich, wild taste of her, his body responding with ardent need. In the deep recesses of his mind, silent bells and whistles sounded, but his desire took him beyond the thunderous noise, leaving only hard grinding desire in its wake. His hands slid against the soft strands of her hair. He found and dislodged the clip holding her ponytail, sighing softly against her mouth in male appreciation as the whole honey-hued silken mass cascaded into his sensitive hands. The strands of her hair were so soft. His fingers entwined, urging her gently to drop her head back so that he could achieve deeper access, a sharper, more satisfying angle.

Haley, weak as a kitten, sagged against him. Dazed, need slackened her mouth, making it ridiculously easy for him to slip the startling, searing heat of his tongue into her mouth. He took his time kissing her, slow, wet seduction that she couldn't resist. Every pore in her body vibrated, her skin hummed, her breasts tightened into hard aching peaks.

Those peaks pressed up against his hard muscular chest when she curved against him, sending delicious
shivers of sexual desire straight to the very core of her femininity. Like a fast-moving reel of film, emotions flashed through her too rapidly for her to hold on to. There was no fear, no need to flee, no gripping, rendering anxiety. No man had ever kissed her like this, with long, insolent possession, and no man had ever made her want more by just the touch of his mouth. She couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't react.

When she groaned and shuddered, he pulled her tighter, roughly dragging her up against him. His mouth became more demanding, more frenzied. His passion hummed in her blood like a thousand agitated bees. She could feel his need for her, the hard ridge of his desire.

Dylan stared down at her. His heart was beating to a hard, sultry rhythm. Take more. Want more. Need more. The rhythm of his straining heart kept repeating over and over. He'd had only a taste and it wasn't enough. He wanted her, sliding her body over him, touching him with her soft, greedy hands, hot heaven burning him into ashes blowing away on the wind of her own consuming desire.

He'd wanted women in the past, but not with this immediate all-consuming desire. It shouldn't be astonishing to him. She was everything a man could want in a woman, beautiful, smart and seductive.

And he was going too fast. Way too fast. He leaned his forehead against hers, knowing that he had to slow down. They weren't even through half of what he wanted to get through. But she was tugging on his
pants, her hands frantic. He knew if she got them off, touched him, he'd go off like a rocket.

He grabbed her hands and eased them up to his chest. “What do you think so far?”

She stared at him, not comprehending. Then reason flooded back.

“The leather is so sexy,” she breathed, running her hands over the leather across his chest. “I love it.”

“What is it about leather that is so cool?” He guided her toward the bed. He grabbed her around the waist and he lifted her onto the mattress.

“That bad-boy kind of thing.”

He smiled. He molded his hands up her waist and over her breasts. “I wouldn't call it a bad-boy kind of thing when you look so hot in that outfit.”

“Ever play dress-up before?”

“No. Never realized how erotic it could be.”

She leaned forward and kissed his lips, taking his bottom one into her mouth. “Mmm. You taste so good.” She sucked it gently then let him go. “Why do you think it is erotic?”

She looked him in the eyes, daring him to say it. He swallowed and leaned forward, kissing the softness of her cheek, moving his lips to her ear and biting the lobe. “Because we trust each other.”

She exhaled softly, “Exactly.”

“I'd never hurt you, Haley.”

She arched her back when he took her delicate lobe in his mouth. He wasn't sure if it was due to the sensation or his words. She grasped his shoulders, her fingers curling around the straps. His hands went to
the zipper in the back and he lowered it slowly. Haley moaned as her breasts were released. He leaned down and took one puckered nipple into his mouth. Her reaction was instantaneous. He reached over and popped the lid off the cooler as he feasted on her. He removed the bustier and dropped it to the floor. He peeled the stockings off her and discarded them as well. Lastly, he removed the thong. He reached to remove the buckles to the harness encircling his chest, but she stayed his hand.

“Leave it on.”

He removed his leather pants and got onto the bed with her. “Dylan. I don't think I can wait.”

“Oh yes you can.”

He reached over and pulled out what was in the cooler.

Haley made a low sound in her throat. It was an icy cherry-red treat. She closed her eyes, unable to contain her desire. Dylan peeled off the wrapping and popped the ice into her mouth. He drew it in and out in a slow seductive measure. Then he took it into his mouth. After a few moments, he bent down and took one of her nipples in his mouth. Haley cried out at the sudden feel of his icy tongue against her heated flesh. As he sucked hard on her nipple, he rubbed the icy pop against her other one. The sensation was electrifying. Haley could barely catch her breath. When his then hot mouth touched her, the sensation was different but just as electrifying.

He drew the cold cherry ice up her stomach and followed the trail with his tongue. When he reached
her breasts, he rolled it around her nipples. As his mouth followed, Haley arched in complete abandon.

“You are so beautiful,” he said softly as he kissed her mouth. He bit off some of the melting treat and discarded the rest. He grabbed her hips and placed his mouth against her most sensitive place. Haley cried out at the sensation, his tongue cold and clever, he pushed the ice inside her. He sipped of her and the juice. It was more than she could bear as the sensation spiraled inside her until it burst upon her with unforgiving force.

Dylan was ready with a condom. She could feel him tremble as he put it on and then slid into her with slow measured thrusts, his arms shaking. She grabbed the leather around his chest and pulled. His body jerked and he slid to the hilt inside her. He groaned as if it was too much for him, his eyes closing. The darkness of his lashes were long and thick against his amazing face. It was as if he was suspended in time, held there for an exquisite, aching moment. She watched the pleasure spread across his face and it increased hers. Somewhere inside, her heart split and she knew that she would never be the same, that this experience had changed her. She wondered desperately if it had changed him.

Then he began to move and she couldn't hold on to her thoughts. He surged into her with frantic thrusts, and as the exquisite sensation grew, she experienced wave after wave of pleasure until she felt as if she'd exploded into a million tiny pieces of colored light that floated gently to the bed.

Dylan lay on top of her until his breathing quieted and then he raised his head. When she opened her eyes, he smiled at her.

“In a few minutes, I'll be ready for round two.”

Haley could barely speak. “Minutes? Round two?” she squeaked.

And his smile grew. “Sure. There are so many more things I can do with ice.”

“Oh my,” were the only words she could manage.

 

S
HE WAS WALKING
on black sand, the finest black sand she'd ever felt beneath her feet. She could hear the pounding as she walked, like hooves striking earth, but when she turned all the way around, she could see no one on the deserted beach.

Perhaps it was her heart beating in her ears. The palm trees rustled in the soft, teasing wind as the water lapped against her bare feet.

Then she heard it again, the pounding of hooves against earth. When she turned, a big, black horse with a flowing mane and tail galloped across the dark sand, black against black. A man was on the stallion's back and rode the horse as if he were part of the racing animal. In the sky overhead, thunderclouds gathered and multiplied as the horse and rider drew near.

The man vaulted from the horse the moment it stopped, sand flinging with the flailing of the animal's mighty hooves.