The Bare Facts (15 page)

“Good. I'm glad.” He looked away.

“Look, Dylan. If you came over here to make sure we had this talk about a future relationship, that's fine. I don't expect you to help me paint.”

“I'll help you, Haley.”

“Fine. Let's get to work.”

As they worked steadily, Dylan watched Haley as she painted the trim. She seemed so unaffected, so calm and serene, as if the sex hadn't meant anything. But he'd seen the truth in her eyes no matter how hard she tried to act casual. It did bother her and it may be true that he didn't have to take any drastic action, but he wanted to make sure that Haley wanted nothing more to do with him.

These moments with Haley felt real, solid, something he could hang on to for the rest of his life, but at what price to her?

It would be better if she found someone else and settled down with him. He bit down on the jealousy that rose unbidden from some shadowed, dank well inside him. A black, dark jealousy that made him want to put a fist through her freshly painted wall.
Imagining anyone else touching Haley made Dylan crazy.

They finished close to eleven o'clock. Haley leaned back and rubbed at her lower back, then her neck. She turned to him, a paint smudge on her nose, fatigue in her eyes.

“Go ahead and clean up. I'll take care of the brushes and the roller. I can let myself out.”

She looked at him silently. He could feel the air crackle between them. Would that ever go away? Ten years from now if he were to meet her on the street would that same sizzle be there? Would he hate himself for giving her up?

She nodded then and left the room. Dylan busied himself with closing the paint can that was still half-full, cleaning the brushes and leaving them to dry on paper towels on the counter.

He even picked up his jacket as if he really was going to leave. He even headed for the door. But he stopped and clenched his fists, fought the pull of her. Then he heard the soft music from her room. He turned and walked to the door. Unable to help himself, he turned the handle.

Haley stood there, her eyes filled with a wrenching vulnerability that made his chest burn for the way he had treated her. Denying his needs and wants was definitely the easy part. Hurting Haley wasn't something he wanted to do, but he didn't see any way around it. She'd washed her face and all she was wearing was a pale yellow silk nightgown with thin
straps. The soft color of the material made her skin glow.

Her eyes traveled over him in a hungry, desperate slide and he felt himself respond to the need on her face.

“Dylan,” she whispered, and he had to strain to hear her over the pounding beat of his heart. Then her voice strengthened and her chest heaved with the power of her trapped emotions. “I need…I need…”

“I know,” he said stepping closer to her.

The light, clingy material was so transparent, he could see her dusky nipples, as well as the rest of her glorious body. She was so beautiful, his body leaped into blood-pumping alert. And she was so unsure of herself that his throat ached. His gaze moved down her body, her slender torso curved narrow at the waist, her hips round and firm, and her long legs smooth and tanned. He knew then that if he had to do without her, his life would be one big empty joke. His eyes traveled back up, centering on her breasts and the seductive outline of her tantalizing nipples. They hardened under his gaze. He reached out and curled his fingers around the strap and pulled her roughly into his arms. “Dylan,” she pleaded. “Dylan.”

Her hands went to the zipper of his jeans and freed him. His head bent. “Dylan,” she whispered, begged. His mouth closed over her and she arched wantonly into the heat of him. She moaned his name again. The sound of it reverberated against the walls, throwing his name back at them like an aching echo of wrenching need.

He sucked hard on the bud in his mouth and she cried out. He felt satisfaction turn from an ember into a full raging conflagration of hunger.

He heard the material rip in the confines of the room. When he looked down, he realized it was his hands that had done it. Big, powerful hands on flimsy, delicate silk. Hands that looked so huge against the smallness of her exquisite body. The sight was so arousing that he hardened with painful desire. He growled low in his throat and pushed her up against the wall. The ripped gown caught between them, her upper body totally exposed to his hungry gaze. He cupped both soft, round globes in his hands and took each nipple in turn. He moved with wild abandon against her, unable to stop the frenzy of powerful need that drove him. Every time he moved his hips in an uncontrollable thrust, he encountered the soft, erotic slide of the silk against his hardness.

Never in his life had he felt so out of control. The taste of her was like ambrosia, intoxicating until he felt as if the very life of her was in his blood, pumping through his heart and pulsing in every cell of his body. He couldn't get enough of her, felt as if he'd waited his whole life to have her like this.

His mouth moved up her body to her succulent lips and took the wet, satiny skin with a harsh demand. Haley returned his kiss with just as much force, just as much demand.

The nagging concerns and the world beyond this room ceased to exist. There was nothing but them,
nothing but the driving need that wouldn't let them rest until it was met.

His hands wandered her body in feverish activity. Where it met silk, he pushed the material away from her only to encounter softer, silkier skin beneath.

Her hands roamed over the hard muscles of his back, through the strands of his hair, and kneaded his powerful shoulders. Where she touched, there was tingling fire. The feel of her hands on him threatened what precious little control he had left.

Her hands were at his jeans, pushing the material off his hips, along with his underwear. She cupped him and his breath hissed out, his body jackknifing at the pure, erotic sensation of her hands curling around his erection.

His hands slid down the curve of her bottom, raising her leg, lifting her and pressing her into that part of him that ached for her the most. The soft, harsh cry that came from her made him wild with need. He pressed her back and her legs and arms wrapped around him. The weight of her felt delicious against him. Woman, warm, soft.

“Mine,” he said, unaware he was even saying the word.

He'd never felt this way about anyone before, never craved anyone more, couldn't ever see himself with anyone but his fiery, flamboyant Haley.

The sounds of their pleasure mingled with the soft strains of the music. The urgency, the very need pulsating in the grasps, cries, groans that were music to his ears. He clasped her tighter to him and with a
bucking thrust entered her deeply. Haley arched into him, crying out his name in a pleasure-soaked voice. The fire of his need for her savaged him and he moved against her mindlessly, the force driving him.

She matched him in that savage moment of unleashed passion.

His body seemed beyond him. There was only the driving need to claim her, to make her unequivocally his. His breathing was harsh as he pulled her harder against him and she was close to the edge. He endeavored to push her over. She froze; an amazed look came over her face. Dylan watched her slide into and relish the explosion of pleasure that swamped her and her senses.

It was the final push to his highly aroused body. He followed her into the blast, and fragments of her pleasure struck him.

“Haley…” His voice was rough, hoarse, full of his need for her. At the sound of her name, she clutched him tight and held on to him.

He cradled her against him, loath to move or to let go of her. Finally, he had to as he let her slip down his body. Suddenly, he realized he hadn't even gotten fully undressed. As her feet hit the floor, the ruined nightgown dropped to her feet. She looked up at him.

“I'm sorry. I was too rough. Did I hurt you?”

“No, I can honestly say that what you did to me didn't hurt at all.”

He bent and picked up the garment. “It's ruined.” The silk felt like her skin in his hands. “And so beautiful. I'm sorry.”

“How about I buy a dozen more and you can rip those, too?”

He dipped and picked her up. Kicking away his jeans, he walked toward the bed and set her in it, following her down. “I'm not leaving.” He knew he should, but he couldn't bear to leave her knowing what was in store for them at the end of the week.

“Good,” she whispered as she cuddled against him.

“We'll have breakfast together in the morning,” he murmured, sated and feeling drowsy as he cradled her in his arms.

“Can't.”

“I'm eating breakfast with you,” he insisted, raising himself on his elbow.

She yawned. “Then we'll starve. I haven't got a thing in the fridge.”

“Cold pizza?” he suggested, gently pushing her unruly hair off her face.

“Yuk. Maybe the bakery across the street.” She looked up at him and smiled softly.

“Are you sure I didn't hurt you?” he asked huskily.

“You'd never hurt me, Dylan.”

He closed his eyes as guilt sunk sharp talons into his stomach. Little did she know what lengths he would go to protect her from his father. He felt her hands on the buttons of his shirt. Her mouth on his skin.

It was on his lips to tell her how he really felt, but
before he could utter a word, she said, “See. It's just about sex, Dylan. That's where we mesh.”

He didn't speak. There was nothing for him to say.

She continued. “You have everything planned for Saturday, right? It'll be my last column, our last night together. Sarah comes back on Monday and I'll turn the column back over to her.”

Dylan closed his eyes, wondering how he was going to return to his life after Haley left. “I have everything planned. Don't worry.”

S
ATURDAY AFTERNOON
Dylan unlocked the hotel-room door and let Haley go ahead of him. The Ritz-Carlton was one of the most exclusive in the city and it was a bonus that the party would be here.

“This is really nice. You should let me pay half.”

“No. I want to do this for you.” He didn't feel good about what he had to do to her to get her to walk away from him and never look back. He wanted to bring her someplace special for their last fantasy together.

His whole body rebelled against that notion and he pushed the thought from his mind.

He dropped his bag and handed her a slip of paper.

“What's this?”

“A voucher for a facial and manicure. You go ahead and I'll prepare everything.”

Haley took the voucher and gave him a half smile. “You really are full of surprises.”

He brushed the back of his fingers against her face. “Enjoy yourself, Haley. This fantasy is for you.”

When Haley left, Dylan got busy.

After Haley's session was over, she went back to the room. When she opened the door, there was a
masseuse table set up with oils next to it. Dylan came out of the bathroom and Haley's good intentions went flying out the window. How was she ever going to pretend that he didn't mean something to her?

He was dressed in tight black shorts and nothing else, his chest broad and heavily muscled. Haley felt her breath seize as a peculiar hot-cold feeling flashed through her. In a split second, he made her aware of him again, powerfully aware of his size, his shape, his masculinity. In a way she hadn't experienced since the first time, she noticed the breadth of his shoulders and the narrowness of his hips, the long, lean power of his strong thighs. Suddenly her palms remembered the contours of his body when she clasped him to her in the enthralling pulsating depth of passion.

She ached, actually ached, to feel his arms around her, to feel the smooth heat of his skin against hers. But more than that, she ached to wake up to his handsome face every morning, eat breakfast with him, talk to him, support him and love him.

She had passed the point of no return. For her, it was already too late. Since the pain was going to be unavoidable, she made the decision to take what she could from the moment.

“Hey,” he said. “How did it go?”

“It was wonderful.”

He walked over to her and drew her toward the bed where he had a robe laid out. “Go ahead and change into the robe, I have a few more things to do in the bathroom.”

When he disappeared into the bathroom, she took off her clothes and put on the fine silk short robe and belted it around her waist.

In about ten minutes Dylan came out, shut the drapes and dimmed the lights. He took her hand and led her to a chair. Pushing on her shoulders, he indicated for her to sit.

He knelt down on the floor and Haley smiled. “Just where I always wanted you.”

“On my knees, huh?”

“Worshiping me.”

He looked up at her, his green eyes serious. “I do worship you.”

She smiled, but Dylan didn't crack a smile. His reaction unnerved her. Was he trying to rattle her? Play games?

When he looked up at her again, his eyes were clear and purposeful. “If anything I do hurts you, let me know right away.”

He reached over and picked up a tube of cream. He squirted a dollop on his hand and picked up her foot. Very gently he began to massage the cream into the ball of her foot. The sharp, soothing scent of eucalyptus and spearmint permeated the air and Haley sighed.

He worked steadily, his shoulder and arm muscles bulging. It was a pleasure to watch. She reached out and touched his head, letting the soft strands of his hair slide through her fingers. When he laid his head in her lap and closed his eyes, she kept stroking him.
Concocting a little fantasy in her head. She wished he were hers to keep.

After a short while he raised his head, and she cupped his face and stroked his cheekbone. He smiled then, but it was wistful.

He took both her hands in his and pulled her up from the chair. He brought her over to the table and unbelted her robe. He opened the lapels of the robe with a brush all the way down the length of her body. He pushed the material off her shoulders, and grabbed her waist in his big hands and lifted her onto the table.

“Lie down on your stomach.” Haley got into the position, feeling completely at ease with him. He laid hot steamed towels across her back and she sighed with the decadent pleasure it brought. With strong hands and warm scented oil that smelled like jasmine, Dylan began to knead the back of her thighs.

“So your dad was a mailman.”

“Yeah. Mmm, that feels good.”

“In Jersey?”

“Yeah. Not the city though. I grew up in Hillcrest, a New Jersey suburb with quiet residential streets. My sister and I played in the backyard and my brother practiced his hoops at the net over our garage. Typical family life.”

“Sounds idyllic.”

“It was.” She moaned softly. His thumbs were getting at an especially tight area just beneath her shoulder blades. “That really feels good.”

“You're very tight,” he said as he removed the towels.

Using the same oil, he began on her back. The man had amazing hands.

“You have beautiful skin. Smooth, soft.” He ran his hands up and down her back, kneading, massaging, until Haley was almost drunk with relaxation.

“Time to flip over.”

She turned with Dylan's help. She watched his face as he poured more oil onto his hands. He started with her feet and worked his way up her body all the way to her breasts. His slick palms slid over her nipples and Haley gasped and arched. But he slipped down to her stomach and hips to knead them. Up again, he teased her breasts, cupping them in his big hands and kneading them provocatively. The third time up, she felt the heat of his mouth engulf her nipple then dance away. Again he nipped at her while Haley moved restlessly on the table. When his mouth returned, he sucked hard at her nipples while he slipped his finger inside her, his thumb pressing against the hard nub of her core.

“You are so tight, so beautiful.” His hot mouth nipped and laved her nipples. Haley's hands came up and delved into his hair, holding him to her as he feasted on her flesh.

“Dylan,” she pleaded softly.

“Come on, sweetheart. Do it for me.”

Her back arched at his provocative words and her orgasm spread through her like wildfire.

“You're beautiful,” he said quietly, and lifted her from the table. He carried her to the bathroom and moaned as he released her body to slide over his. His
erection was hard and hot against her thighs, her stomach. The bathroom was filled with roses and illuminated with candlelight. It gave the room a hushed, secretive air, one filled with magic. The scent of roses and vanilla was strong in the room.

“It's beautiful, Dylan.”

The soft music cascaded over them.

Sitting down on the marble edge of the tub, she trailed her hand in the water. They never broke eye contact, not even when Dylan picked a red rose from one of the arrangements and offered it to her.

She took the blossom, brought the bloom to her nose and breathed deep. She shredded the petals off the stem into the slowly churning water of the bath, almost absently, until all of them floated like miniature scarlet lily pads on the softly churning surface.

Dylan sat down next to her on the lip of the tub. “Time to get your feet wet.”

“I'll never forget this.”

He rose and walked a few paces away from her. He rubbed the back of his neck, ruffling his dark hair. The black strands were so sexy, the way they lay on the back of his neck. The sight drove her crazy.

“What are you doing?” Haley rose from the tub and walked over to him.

He was silent, his eyes burning like chunks of jade. “Trying to get a hold of myself. Trying not to take you like an animal.”

It was too much for her. Too much. Her sigh mingled with the quiet motion of the water. Her voice
hushed out, filled with secrets. “I'm not afraid of you.”

“You should be. If you only knew how thin my restraint is right now. I didn't know I had this kind of passion inside me, Haley.” In his voice was the desire he felt for her. Her name on his sensuous lips seemed like the key to release the pent-up emotions she denied herself.

She would never forget this moment. This one moment in time when she knew without a doubt that she loved him.

Loved a man she couldn't have.

Her heart was full of him, and for right now that would be enough. For once, she'd stop worrying about the future. She would just take the present and be content.

He reached out and cupped the back of her neck. His touch set her free. His touch also set off a new wave of weakness, and she closed her eyes, struggling against the throbbing thickness that made her heart pound and her lungs refuse to function.

Overwhelmed by sensation, she turned her face into his hand, and Dylan inhaled sharply. Murmuring her name, he drew her into his arms and covered her mouth in a kiss that set off a frenzy of sensation inside her. A sudden, frantic, mutual need seemed to travel from one to the other, and she clung to him, opening her mouth beneath his.

Gripping her by the back of the head, he widened his stance. He pulled her between his thighs and hard against his groin. A low sound erupted from deep
inside her when she felt him hard and fully aroused against her.

Want escalated into an incoherent need, a need to feel him pressed against her. She locked her arms around his neck, desperately pulling herself higher, tighter against him.

Widening his stance even more, Dylan shifted his hold on her back and dragged her up, resealing his hot, hungry mouth against hers in a kiss that seemed to ravage her very soul.

Dylan twisted her against one thigh and shifted his hold. Tightening his arm around her torso, he slid his hand between the moist folds of her skin, absorbing her cry as he touched her where she so desperately needed to be touched.

Haley clutched at him, her body going rigid as she involuntarily arched against the stroking pressure of his fingers. An explosion detonated inside her and a chain of convulsions ripped through her as she came apart in his arms.

She sobbed his name against his neck and with a sudden, deft move, he picked her up in his arms.

He supported her against the strong musculature of his chest. His big arms wrapped around her. Tenderly he rubbed his cheekbone along hers, then his head lifted and she was captured, mesmerized by the earnestness in his eyes.

She blinked, distracted by the unexpected gentleness of his face against hers. His eyes looked molten green in the candlelight.

A longing full of twisting intensity gripped her
when he cupped her face. It was imperative that he touch her, ease the ache. His thumbs glided over her skin. He breathed deep, taking the needed air into his lungs as if he were starving for it.

His head dipped and his mouth met hers with a sigh. His tongue came out and traced the softness of her lips, paying homage to her with a moan of sheer pleasure.

His fingers delved into her hair, crushing the curls when his hands clenched into fists.

Gently he pulled her head back and deepened the kiss.

“You have an amazing mouth,” he rasped against her lips.

She sank against him, shivering delicately. She did what her hands had itched to do all night. Trembling fingers sought hard sleekness. Haley savored the feel of such hot, needful male beneath her fingertips. Her skin was alive with awareness, her fingertips tingling with each sweep against his burning flesh. Her hands roamed down his chest, brushing over one erect soft nipple. She smiled when he gasped softly against her mouth. She felt him smile in return. She trailed her hand down his ribs and the thick, hard muscles of his abdomen. She cupped him and squeezed gently, running the heel of her hand over his erection.

His breath was hot against her lips as he moaned softly.

She went to remove his shorts, but he stayed her hand. “No.” He picked her up and stepped into the
whirling bathwater. “Why not?” she asked, entranced by the masculine beauty of his face.

“You want a good column, right?” His eyes never left hers. Those eyes spoke volumes while offering her solace that no one in her life had ever offered. She sighed at the richness of it, ached at the poignancy.

Forget the column. She wanted him to make love to her and it had nothing to do with a fantasy or her job. She wanted this night to matter. “I want you to make love to me.”

His grin lit up the room. “It's what I want, too.”

“Okay then. Give me what I want, Malone.”

He chuckled, pressing his cheek to her hair. Holding her harder, his hands stroked her as he dropped her legs to pull her closer to the hard, soothing length of his body.

Her hands once more moved to explore him, taste him with her fingers, absorb him through her pores and marvel in the realization that he was the perfect image of what a man was meant to be. She pushed away from him to run her hands over his broad-muscled shoulders, a wide, hard chest, curving with more taut muscle. She reached for his shorts again.

He laughed and captured her wrists. “You are determined.”

“Dylan, let me go.”

“Only if you promise to behave yourself. Let me do it my way, Haley,” he pleaded.

“All right.”

He bent over and picked up a loofah and poured body wash onto the slightly abrasive surface.

“Gather your hair and hold it out of the way for me.”

She gathered her unruly mass of curls and held them as he washed her back, her buttocks and down her legs.

“Now the front.”

Haley leaned into him, letting her hair go as it cascaded down over his back. His breath hissed out. With her back against his hot smooth skin, he moved the loofah over her skin, gently abrading her hard, aching nipples, over her stomach, and sliding into her sensitive core. His mouth found the soft skin behind her ear. He kissed and licked her there until her skin vibrated with unfulfilled need.