The Bare Facts (4 page)

“My guess is that a little romance won't affect your article. It'll probably make it better because that's really what a woman is looking for. The sex is just icing.”

“Aren't you just the perfect guy.”

“I'm real, Haley. Flesh, bones and heart.”

He placed her palm over his heart and the steady, sure beat calmed her tight nerves.

He was real, all right. As his soft, hot mouth touched hers, Haley thought he was as real as he could be.

 

T
HE HIKE WAS INVIGORATING
and fun. The scenery was gorgeous, but not as gorgeous a sight as watching Dylan's tight backside navigate rocks and climb over fallen logs. It was late afternoon when they returned to the cabin.

Dylan insisted on cooking, delaying their fantasy
even longer. Haley didn't argue because as soon as they got back to the cabin, butterflies assaulted her stomach. Food might help to quell them and would delay the actual lovemaking just a while longer.

Dylan started to prepare the steak he'd pulled from the freezer before they had left on their hike. When he started slicing potatoes for an au gratin, Haley said, “Doesn't quite fit with your corporate image.”

“What? Cooking?”

“Yeah. I've got a feeling that in your firm, image is very important.”

Dylan finished assembling the au gratin and put the glass pan in the oven. “It's certainly part of climbing the ladder. Why would you say that I was worried about image?”

“The perfect haircut, the power suits, just the right amount of muscle to make you look powerful, yet not too much to make you intimidating.” Haley picked up a zucchini and began to slice the green vegetable.

“No. Intimidation wouldn't work for selling ad campaigns to possible clients.” Dylan handed her a pan to put the slices in.

“I rest my case,” Haley said as she took a bite of a slice of zucchini.

“Do you?”

Dylan studied her silently. “It looks like we both do what needs to be done to get ahead,” he said softly, leaning on the counter toward her.

“Touché. How far would you go to get ahead?”

“What do you mean?”

“Would you marry the perfect wife to promote your career?”

“That's part of the game, but I would hope that I love the woman I ask to marry me.”

“So what's more important? Love or image?”

“Haley, that's really hard to say when I don't have to make that choice. Who knows how someone will act when put into a specific situation.”

She should stop right now. Why was she bringing up this topic? Why put herself through this? Because she had to make sure that he couldn't possibly be interested in her. This was a fling. Granted, a calculated fling, but Haley desperately needed to know that there was no way she could be allowed into Dylan's life. Knowing this would somehow make it easier to deal with.

Dylan chuckled. “What exactly are you getting at?”

Haley took a deep breath. “Take me, for example. I think it's clear that I, the woman from the other side of the river, would never fit in with your high-society friends and co-workers.”

He looked away and his mouth tightened. “No. You wouldn't.”

“So you could possibly damage your career by making the wrong choice.”

“Yes. You could say that it would be damaging. How much? Who knows?”

Haley felt an inexplicable lump in her throat at his answer. This is what she needed to hear no matter how much it hurt. “So image is more important.”

“I guess it is,” he conceded just as the buzzer went off and he began pulling food out of the oven.

“Haley, why did you ask me to help you with your fantasies? Not that I'm complaining.” He placed the hot dish on top of the stove and transferred the meat to a plate.

“I asked you because, to tell the truth, I've always wondered what happened on graduation night, and somehow I felt cheated that I can't remember.” She realized that it was the truth.

He pulled the potatoes out of the oven, walked to the kitchen table and set the dish down on a hot pad. He put his hands on his hips and slid her a sidelong glance. Finally he spoke, his tone soft and seductive. “I wanted to call you.”

“Why didn't you?” She picked up the basket of bread and the cooked zucchini on the counter and walked over to the table.

They sat down and dished out the meal. Dylan took a bite of steak and chewed. When his mouth was empty he spoke, “The way you left made a clear and direct statement.”

Haley swallowed a bite. “What kind of statement?”

“When you bolted I thought you wanted to get out of there because you thought you'd made a mistake.”

“It was a mistake. I let myself get carried away.” Suddenly, she didn't feel very hungry. She rose to put her dish in the sink, but Dylan was out of his seat and blocked her way.

He stared down into her eyes. “So you didn't think about me?”

Haley was beginning to get nervous about the late hour. It was getting dark and the discussion was getting too personal. She avoided his gaze. “No.”

“Not ever?”

“No.” She walked around him and went to the sink to rinse off her plate and set it in the drainer.

“I think you're lying.”

“Dylan, it's getting late. I'm on a tight deadline.” She didn't want to have this personal conversation with him. It would be harder and harder to get back to a neutral area. This wasn't about yearnings and dreams, even though she'd had so many. This was about her goal and she had to keep that uppermost in her mind. Yet, she couldn't help feeling guilty when she considered how many times she'd thought of Dylan when she'd been dating Sean.

“Back to business?” he asked, sounding disappointed. He was standing close to her at the sink. He nudged her shoulder and cupped her face, his thumb caressing her cheek. Liquid heat radiated from that soft, insistent touch, seeming to melt her bones. Was she still standing? “Okay, back to business. But I think we should spend the night,” he added softly.

He pulled her away from the sink and directed her toward the living room and the tantalizing smell of raspberries.

Haley didn't like the thought of spending the night in Dylan's arms. She wasn't sure what that would do to her heart, although he did know this area, these
mountains. “I have to get to work on this column. I think we should leave as soon as we're finished.” As they reached the fireplace and the throw pillows, his mouth captured hers, dragging her into a deep, drugging vortex.

“The roads can be treacherous to navigate in the dark,” he said, his lips barely touching hers.

She'd agree to anything to get him to kiss her again. “If you think that's best,” she murmured, with her eyes on his mouth. She reached up and traced his bottom lip with her thumb.

He smiled. “Want some wine?”

Haley shook her head. This time she wanted to be stone-cold sober and savor every single breath he took, every single caress, every single movement, sensation, sound.

“Is there anything you need to do? Change clothes? Want me to change clothes?”

“No, but I do want to undress you.” She'd planned the whole thing out. Undressing a man was provocative and erotic. She could feel the heat of the fireplace; the living room was warm and cozy.

Grabbing her around the waist, he pulled her hard against him. His touch unleashed a host of needs that had lain dormant inside her until the night he'd kissed her. Now they leaped and twisted, wild with the prospect of freedom. He was hers for a little while.

“You make me so crazy, I can't think.”

“Good,” was her strangled response. Her hands flew to his broad shoulders, the cotton soft beneath
her fingers. More than anything she wanted to feel his skin. She hung on to him for support.

He smiled slow and sexy. She felt as if she'd swallowed a draft of whiskey and the fire was flaring out from her stomach to all her extremities.

Gently he caressed her face. His chest rose in a long-held sigh, yearning stirred. An impossible need. “Haley.”

When his mouth touched hers, it was hot and wild, and released a need she'd never felt before with any other man. Haley gasped against his lips, sending an explosive reaction all through her body.

She ran her fingertips down his throat until she reached the top button of the Henley. She unbuttoned it, exposing his collarbone. When she leaned forward and placed her mouth on his skin, her body clenched. She ran her lips across the hollow of his throat. His skin was so soft there, she lingered, breathing in the enticing scent, a heady combination of cinnamon and hot aroused male.

She unbuttoned the second button, her mouth delved lower, brushing over the top of his bulging pectoral muscles. His chest expanded as he drew in a sharp breath when she lightly bit him. When he groaned, pleasure surged in her tingling nipples and her woman's core, as her tongue caressed the area she'd bitten.

When the third button was released, her hands went to his waist. She grabbed the tail of the shirt. With his help, she pulled it over his head and discarded it. She ran the back of her fingers over his stomach to
the snap on his jeans, released the button and cupped her hand over the hardness beneath the zipper, giving him a gentle squeeze. Dylan's eyes flared as his hips thrust into her hands. She removed her hand and bent down to his boots. She unlaced them quickly, and pulled them off along with his socks.

When her hand came back to his zipper, he grabbed her wrist. “Just the jeans.” He swallowed hard, closing his eyes briefly. “I don't know if I can last otherwise.”

She nodded, unable to speak, wanting to see every inch of him, but knowing she had to be patient. As tempting as out-and-out raw sex was, she needed the full fantasy experience. She released the zipper slowly.

“Dammit, Haley,” he said through clenched teeth. With deliberate tenderness, she caressed his waist, tucking her hands inside the waistband of the jeans, which she pushed to the floor. He leaned over and buried his face in her hair. His chest rose and fell, his hot breath fanned her ear, giving her goose bumps. He stepped out of the jeans, kicking them away.

When he straightened, and she followed, her palms moved over his hard pectoral muscles, his stiff nipples, up to his broad shoulders and back down. She was enthralled, enraptured, wanting to spend hours just touching him like this.

She pulled him over to the throw pillows directly in front of the fireplace and sank to her knees on the bearskin rug. He, too, dropped to his knees on the
pillows. Dipping her finger into the raspberry sauce, she spread some on his rigid nipples.

Dylan groaned softly, his head falling back, his eyes closed in pleasure. Haley wanted to make it even better. Leaning forward, she sucked hard on his nipple. Dylan's moan deepened and he clasped her arms, sliding his big hands up until he had them buried in her hair. His fingers kneaded her scalp as he cried out sharply when she went to his other nipple and bit the tip hard. The raspberries were like an aphrodisiac on her tongue, the sweetness of the berry and the hot wild flavor of Dylan mixing into an overwhelming taste.

He twisted, pushing his chest hard against her mouth and she suckled him, using her tongue against his rigid nipple.

She reached for his underwear, but again Dylan caught her wrist.

Hoarsely, he said, “Don't. I will be lost.”

“I never knew…” Haley couldn't finish the sentence. She was stunned that making love with Dylan would be this wild, this erotic.

The tantalizing smell of raspberries filled the air, the fire crackled in the hearth and threw heat onto their bodies. They reclined against the plump cushions, tossed haphazardly on the rug.

He closed his eyes when she leaned forward, her scent a tantalizing mix of fragrant flowers, woman and sin. She brushed her fingertips over his nipple. He groaned softly, waves of sensation running like liquid heat from there to his groin.

“Oh.
I
knew,” he growled. “I used to sit behind you in English class and imagine.” He opened his eyes and pulled her across his lap as he reclined against the throw pillows. With a slow seductive slide, he pushed her hair back and exposed the nape of her neck. “I'd wonder what kind of sound you'd make when I kissed you there.” When his mouth touched the soft skin at the back of her neck, she gasped. The sound shocked him in return.

“What else did you wonder?” she whispered breathlessly as she moved against him.

“I thought about peeling you out of those tight sweaters, wondering what kind of underwear you had on. Would it be sexy black lace or pretty white cotton?”

“What did you think, then?”

“Then? Pretty white cotton.” He pulled her even closer, sending his hands through her unruly hair, cupping her angelic face.

Settling his mouth firmly over hers, he felt as if he'd come home. Their mouths parted. Dylan was so shocked by his reaction he just stared at her. She smiled and traced his lips with her thumb. He captured her hand and tenderly kissed her palm, then her wrist. Returning to her mouth, he kissed her again, rubbing his lips across hers, reveling in the tartness of the raspberry and the sweetness of her mouth. Haley caught his full lower lip gently in her teeth and worried it with her tongue. By mutual decision they stopped their tentative play and kissed in earnest, lips opening, tongues meshing, bodies straining together.

“What do you think I'm wearing now?” Her voice was thick with desire.

“Sexy black lace,” he said as he started to pull the tight-fitting black turtleneck over her head, his voice ragged and tight. When she was free of the garment, one word rushed out. “Wow.” His eyes flew to hers and there was mischief there, erotic dreams and fantasies. “Damn,” he swore softly. “Was I ever wrong. You're wearing red. Hot, fiery red. You are full of surprises.

“I used to wonder how the lace would cup your breasts. I used to think about sliding each piece of clothing off your body and kissing every inch.”