Unwrapping Holly: (2 page)

Thankfully, she’d long ago learned how to adopt an easy facade of steady, cool composure. “I don’t buy drinks for strangers,” she informed him.

A slow, sensual smile tugged on his full, kissable lips. “Then I guess we should introduce ourselves.”

“Better yet,” she countered, casting him a not-so-innocent look, a look that she would never have dared before this night. She was really enjoying their little exchange. “
You
can buy
me
a drink.” She didn’t give him time to respond, darting inside the warm inviting Tavern, his deep laughter following her.

Smiling to herself, she tugged away her gloves and stuffed them in her coat pockets, surveying the dimly lit bar as she did. People were mingling here and there, none of whom she recognized, and she found that a relief.

Holly quite enjoyed the idea of this little game she’d entered into with a stranger, a secret flirtation. Sure, it had to end quickly—her mom and dad would miss her soon enough. But for now, she wanted to enjoy herself, to lose herself in the moment, and in the man responsible for that moment.

Holly calculated her best position in this game, passing the booths lining the wooden walls, and the tables in the open L-shaped seating area. Instead, she headed for the short side of the bar, where a four-foot Christmas tree adorned the edge of the long, wooden counter.

The jukebox kicked into play, the sound of Dean Martin’s voice lifting in the air with “Baby, it’s cold outside.” The playfully sexy song fit her mood exactly. How long had it been since she’d simply had fun? She’d gone from workaholic to hermit. Not exactly inspiration for good writing. Living created inspiration and sparked creativity. The tingling awareness sparked by a stranger that she felt right here, right now, was the most alive she’d felt in far too long.

Excitement fluttered through her as Holly stepped to the bar and claimed a bar stool. She hung her purse on the back of the stool and then started to shrug off her jacket. Suddenly, he was there, pulling it off her shoulders, his hands gliding down her arms in its wake.

Holly shivered again, and it had nothing to do with being cold. Her nipples pebbled, ached. Heat swirled deep in her belly. She could smell a spicy male scent, mingled with a hint of vanilla. She could feel the heat of his body near hers. He slipped her coat onto the coatrack at the edge of the bar, and then leaned his arm on the back of her chair as the bartender appeared.

“What can I get for you folks?”

Her fantasy man removed his coat, and she forced herself to remain attentive to the bartender.

“Irish coffee,” Holly ordered.

The sexy stranger eased to the side of her chair, his hands still strategically placed at the back.

“Make that two,” he said.

She rotated in her chair to face him. He leaned on the bar, that one strategic hand still on the back of her bar stool. She was trapped and loving every second of it.

“You don’t seem like an Irish coffee kind of guy,” she commented.

“Is that right?” he asked. “What kind of guy do I seem like?”

He had on a black T-shirt that clung to nicely defined pecs. She smiled. “A Bud Light man.”

Tilting his head, he studied her. “Guess I’m not as predictable as you thought.”

“Oh, I don’t think you’re predictable at all.” In fact, one of the things she enjoyed about this man thus far was how hard he was to read—well, beyond the primitive attraction simmering between them. She’d spent years learning to read the desire people hid beneath the surface. She’d made her living profiling people, learning to size up their inner desires. Rarely was anyone who they seemed on the surface. You had to ask questions, probe a little deeper to find the real person beneath.

The bartender set their drinks within reach, but Holly and her stranger simply stared at each other. God, she wanted this man. It was crazy. Insane. She was here to see her family. Her mom and dad were back at home probably wondering where she was now.

He lifted her hand into his, and she welcomed the touch. His hand was big, warm, strong.

“Cole,” he said, introducing himself.

“Holly,” she offered, feeling flushed all over. She’d thought she wanted to stay fully anonymous. And yet she liked knowing his name. There was a rich intimacy between them that couldn’t be created. It had to exist naturally. The kind that came so rarely, when it did, it was like fine wine you wanted to savor and make last.

Without breaking eye contact, he reached for a cup and tasted the coffee. “Not bad,” he said, a drop of that rich liquid clinging to his lips. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted him to kiss her.

She settled for another touch, covering his hand with hers, and sipped from the same mug. “Hmmm,” she agreed, as warm liquid slid down her throat, heating her already sizzling limbs further. “It is good.”

“You say that like you’ve never had Irish coffee before,” he commented.

“I haven’t,” she explained, flirtation in her voice. This playful banter sparked boldness in her. She cast him a sexy look. “Seems a good night to . . . explore new things.”

HE STARED DOWN AT HER, the hunter in him silently vowing to brand this woman with pleasure. Her hands were warm on top of his, her mouth lush and temptingly close. Cole Wiley hadn’t come here tonight looking for seduction, but he’d found it. And he’d be damned if he was walking away from it—from the she-devil of a seductress who could make a damned cup of coffee arousing.

He’d never expected to end this night hot and hard for a stranger. He’d come to The Tavern to fulfill a holiday tradition of football and beer with his two younger brothers. In fact, with the bed-and-breakfast that he and his brothers were in the process of buying, and a contracting business still in full bloom, seduction had been the last thing on his priority list. But lingering a few minutes longer than his brothers had set him directly in Holly’s path and changed that list.

Cole could honestly say that not only would exploring new things with this woman be a God-given pleasure he would heartily embrace, he fully intended to make sure it happened. He wanted her in a bad way. Wanted her naked, hot, and calling his name. She possessed a combination of innocence and naughtiness that had him burning to find out more about her. Oh yeah. Holly got to him in a way no other woman had in a very long time. She reached inside him and drew a response that he could no more control the necessity of his next breath.

“Exploring new things makes life interesting,” he said finally, all too aware that she was awaiting his reply.

A smile hinted at the corners of that lush mouth. “I do believe I like ‘interesting,’ ” she murmured, and then lifted the cup to her lips, sipped the beverage, his hand still beneath hers. Her sweet floral scent, unique and sultry, mingled with the scent of coffee.

He lifted the cup from her hands and set it on the bar so that he could step closer to her. “The night is young,” he commented. Her jean-clad knees now touched his thighs, and he forced himself to resist the urge to press her legs apart and step between them. He wanted to enjoy every single second of this game they were playing, take it slow, savor the burn, until it became pure fire.

He set his palms on her legs, and her hands went to his. They stared at each other, arousal darkening Holly’s eyes, telling him what she had yet to say—about her desire, need. His hands began to inch up her legs, his thumbs tracing the line of her inner thighs. Her lips parted, and he sensed her hesitation a moment before she pressed down on his hands. “No. We can’t. I—”

“Wanted to explore new things,” he interrupted. She greeted his words with a prim look of shock that did nothing to conceal the arousal lurking in her eyes. That she pretended to be appalled when she was not, well, that downright had his balls high and tight. Turned him on in a hot, hard way and told him she’d never dared anything sexual beyond the bedroom. He intended to change that. And so he challenged her. “Why not start exploring with pleasure?”

As the seconds ticked by, seconds laden with sexual tension, a magnetic force slowly lowered their heads together. Anticipation charged through Cole; the warmth of her breath teased his face. Would her lips be as soft as they looked? Would she taste sweet like her heart-shaped face and delicate features said she would, or spicy like her attitude? He was seconds from the answer when her cell phone rang once and then started to vibrate. They froze a hair from seeing that kiss become reality.

“Proof,” she whispered. “The night is not so young.” The phone rang again and she pulled back, though her hesitation was clear. “I have to go.”

He didn’t move; he wouldn’t allow her a chance to escape. “Boyfriend?”

She laughed. “Uh, no.” There was a combination of certainty and disbelief lacing the words. As if she couldn’t believe he’d thought such a thing. “Parents. Home for the holidays.”

Good,
Cole thought. No boyfriend. Later, he’d examine why that pleased him so much. Right now, he would simply accept that he wanted her, and he wasn’t about to let this end here.

There was no way in hell that Cole was allowing her to escape. And escape is what she intended. He was now clear that she’d started this little game, perhaps played it bold beyond her nature, because she’d known it could go nowhere—not with her parents waiting for her.

He reached for her coat as she stood up, calculating how he was going to deal with her intention to cut and run. She wanted him, but she didn’t know how to deal with him outside a safety zone. And for him, that simply wasn’t acceptable. He draped the coat behind her, allowing her to slide her arms inside while ensuring she remained facing him. The instant she was inside the coat, he grabbed the collar and pulled her body next to his.

She sucked in a breath and stared up at him. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure you don’t forget me,” he murmured, his voice low, laden with the desire coursing through his veins. “I don’t plan to forget you.”

“I can promise,” she whispered. “I won’t—”

He kissed her, pressed his lips to her soft, silky, warm mouth and drank her in. His tongue slipped past her teeth, explored with gentle strokes. She tasted like coffee and whiskey, like temptation and heaven. And when she sighed into his mouth, her tongue melting against his, he decided she felt like a witch because she’d damned sure cast one hell of a spell over him.

Slowly, he turned her to the corner, inched her into the area behind the jukebox. “Not here,” she objected weakly. “Not now.” The battle between the woman who wanted to let him take her to the bathroom and fuck her, here and now, and the woman who would never dare such a thing, was clear, and Cole wanted them both. Wanted to be the man who tore down her inhibitions. He wanted to be the man who found the real woman beneath the reserve.

“Now,” he insisted, his hands caressing the sides of her full, high breasts, his fingers rubbing against her nipples, teasing them through the sheer fabric of her shirt.

Her breathing heavy, her hands covered his, while her back arched into him, silently welcoming him to pull her closer. An invitation he damned sure wasn’t going to decline. Cole slid his hand over her tight little ass and molded her hips against his, fitting his cock into the heat of her body. He was hard, thick, raging with the need to be inside her. And he could damn near taste her desire in the air.

Her fingers spread across his chest, as if she wanted to explore his body but did not dare. When he was through with her she’d dare to do that and a hell of a lot more.

“What if I said I could make you come and no one would ever know?”

She offered no objection, just disbelief. “That’s impossible.”

Cole drew back, fixed her in a steady stare that said he wasn’t going to back down. He’d heard the quaver in her voice, the sound of fear and excitement mixed together. “I love a good challenge, sweetheart.” He pressed her against the wall, using his knees to urge her legs apart. “That’s it, baby.” He watched her expression as he traced a path up her thigh, then slid his hand along the seam of her jeans to caress her clit. She bit her lip, fought a moan.

The thrill of conquest burned through his veins, drew his balls tight, thickened his groin. He wanted her pleasure, wanted her aroused to the point of no return. And she was close, so close to completely letting go. Or so he thought.

Abruptly, her phone rang again and she squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh God. My parents.” Her hands pressed against his shoulders, more firmly this time. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

Cole’s gut clenched in disappointment over the sudden shift in her mood. And as much as he burned to run his hands over her hips and feel her softness nuzzled against his rock-hard cock, he sensed pushing her now would send her running for the hills, and that wasn’t where he wanted her. In his bed was where he wanted her. If not tonight, later would do. It was time to ensure the game advanced to round two.

“I have to go,” she repeated. Gone was the sensual, sexy woman of seconds before, her primness fast returning.