Holly Lane (Destiny, Ohio) Page 11
“You seem like your mood about the situation has improved a lot since . . . ” Oh, crap—once again, she was taking them unwittingly back to that cabin. “Since the last time I saw you.”
At this, though, Adam unexpectedly cast another of those slightly sheepish—albeit very sexy—looks. “Not really. If you’d been around me an hour before I delivered your tree today, you’d have run for cover.”
Hmm. She was tempted to ask him what had changed between then and his arrival at her house—but maybe she didn’t really want to know. It seemed best to just keep the conversation light, not dig into anything too deeply.
As Adam pulled into her driveway and eased to a stop, she asked, “So how’d you get stuck delivering my tree anyway? Don’t you have, you know, underlings for that?”
And it was then that everything shifted. After putting the four-wheel drive in park behind her Toyota, he peered over at her in the truck cab, lit only by the dash lights and the reflection of the snow all around them, the look in his eyes downright . . . smoldering. And she could have sworn his voice went an octave deeper when he said, “I volunteered for the job.”
Oh. “Why?” she asked. But then she caught herself—because suddenly her heart beat too fast and her palms were starting to sweat. “Wait, don’t answer that. I mean—” She stopped, swallowed. Oh Lord. So much for acting normal. Maybe the best thing to do was just make a quick escape. “Thanks again, Adam, for everything,” she rushed, then reached for the door handle.
But she didn’t even come close to getting it open, since that’s when Adam’s firm grip closed around her wrist, seeming extra warm given the weather—and the touch skittered all through her. “Sue Ann—stop.”
“Huh? Why?” She found her gaze shifting from his face to where his hand circled her flesh with heat.
“I hate that I’m making you nervous.”
Oh, great—her discomfort was just as obvious as she’d feared all along. “It’s not you. It’s me,” she said, suddenly a bit short of breath. “It’s . . . being alone with you. In the dark, sort of. I feel like I’m sixteen or something. Except that we’ve had sex. Which I hadn’t quite done at sixteen. Especially not with you. So this is actually much worse than that.” He let go of her now, but she just leaned her head back and rolled her eyes. Had she really just said all that? It was like verbal vomit. “Oh God, you probably think I’m a lunatic.”
“No,” he replied, his voice as smooth as melted chocolate. “The fact is, I think you’re sweet, gorgeous, and sexy as hell.”
She heard the gasp leave her before she could stop it. Then she got frank with him—and a little panicky. “Well—that’s a problem.”
“What’s wrong with me thinking you’re sweet, gor—”
“It’s the sexy as hell part,” she explained, still talking too fast. “You can’t think that about me.” Even if she thought that about him. Because she wasn’t planning on acting on those emotions. But she suddenly had the funny feeling that maybe he was.
Across the truck from her, he let out a sigh she felt in her panties, and his next words came out slow and potent, reaching deep down inside her. “The truth is, Sue Ann, try as I might, I can’t stop thinking that about you.”
Oh. Wow. What now? “But . . . what about our agreement? To forget about what happened.”
“I’ve been trying,” he told her. “I swear. But . . . I haven’t been doing very good with it.”
The words hung in the air between them as her heart continued to thump madly against her chest. It was startling—and yet also . . . deeply, wildly gratifying to hear they were having the exact same problem. “You haven’t?” she finally whispered.
“Nope. What about you?” It felt as if his eyes were touching her, physically. And like earlier when he’d been looking at her, more parts of her body began to sweat besides just her palms now.
It seemed like a good time for a lie. “I’ve been fine with it. And I’d . . . hoped after today that we’d feel completely, um, back to normal. Like the old friends we are.” Then, for good measure, she leaned over and gave him a soft punch in the arm. Buddy to buddy.
Unfortunately, though, before she could pull back her fist, Adam grabbed her wrist again. And this time he drew her arm softly closer—and lowered a terribly scintillating little kiss to the top of her hand.
Oh. My. She felt it . . . everywhere. She didn’t even know a hand kiss could do that. So much for being just buddies. And so she simply sat there, frozen in place, absorbing the sensations still fluttering through her.
“Shit. Sorry. I just . . . God, I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, finally releasing his hold on her hand.
But . . . she couldn’t seem to make herself draw it back now. So it just kind of hung there in the air for a moment, then slowly drifted downward, her still-bent fingers grazing the flannel of his sleeve before coming to rest beside him on the leather seat.
Undeniable desire moved within her. Warring. And then . . . winning.
And when she next spoke, her voice came out breathy. “Adam, I . . . ”
“What?”
Oh God, she couldn’t quite catch her breath.
But then she finally managed to blow outward, starting to get hold of herself. Desire had won for a very brief moment, but now she managed to say, “I should go.”
“I don’t want you to,” he said quickly.
She grew aware of her own heartbeat yet again. “You don’t?”
“Nope.” Plain and simple.
So just as plain, and just as simply, she asked him, “What do you want?”
“To be buried back deep inside you.”
Holy crap. She heard herself gasp once more as his words ran all through her—this time mostly between her legs.
Get out of the truck. You have to. You can’t afford to risk your heart again this soon—you just can’t. Sure, you can tell yourself it’s just sex, but there’s really no such thing as that. Sex comes with emotions—deep ones you can’t push away.
But then another voice spoke up—and she feared if she glanced down she’d see an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other, and this new voice was definitely the devil.
It’s not like he’s asking you to wear his class ring and letterman jacket, for God’s sake. This is sex. Good sex. Pure and simple. Why shouldn’t you let yourself have that?
“I want that,” she heard herself murmur. Then she covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh God, did I say that out loud?”
“Yep,” he answered, eyes warm yet steely on her, wholly determined.
“Can I take it back?”
“No way in hell, sugar plum,” he said. And when his hand closed around her arm this time, it was to pull her to him across the space that separated them.
And she went, willingly, because she couldn’t not anymore. She’d tried to resist. She’d spent all day trying not to feel what she felt. And when he curled his other hand seductively around her neck and drew her in for a kiss—oh God . . . oh yes.
She closed her eyes and absorbed every nuance of every pleasure assaulting her. She felt like a woman who’d been thirsty for a week and now she was finally getting to drink—of him.
And then, just like last week in the cabin, thinking gave way to only feeling, and then . . . to complete surrender.
Eight
No falling snow was more intent upon its purpose.
Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol
In a way, Adam felt like a jerk. Because he knew she wasn’t ready for this, was fighting it hard, and yet he was kissing her anyway. And because she didn’t yet know about his conversation with Jeff. He’d been about to tell her a little while ago—that’s why he’d brought Jeff up on the drive home. But then she’d changed the subject and they’d reached her house, and before he knew it, he’d ended up here—pressing his tongue into her mouth, letting himself get consumed by the sensation, and digging his fingertips slightly into her ass as he pulled her closer, settling her onto his lap un
til she straddled him.
Yeah, he might usually be a good guy, but this went beyond that. The chemistry between them was so strong he simply couldn’t push it down. Maybe he’d forgotten that, the chemistry—the way it had slowly taken them both by storm in the cabin. And now that they’d shared that, the connection had grown all the more powerful and intense. He couldn’t remember a time in his life when he’d felt more physically drawn to someone, when his body was operating almost independently of his brain, when he was following instincts and urges, simply giving in, giving up, following where his lust led him.
And damn, he liked kissing her. He could still taste the remnants of hot chocolate on her lips from earlier as her arms settled warm around his neck, and as—aw God, yeah—the crux of her thighs pressed against his hard-on. Before long he could hear them both emitting rough, jagged breaths between kisses.
“I have to have you,” he murmured unplanned as he reached for the button on her blue jeans.
She said nothing, but didn’t protest when he lifted her off of him, over into the other seat, and proceeded to tug down her jeans, the panties with them. In fact, she shrugged free of her parka at the same time, leaving her clad in only a loose sweater. He paused just long enough to crank the heat higher so she wouldn’t be cold, and then he let his gaze roam her, naked from the waist down—she’d kicked off her shoes, too.
“My God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered deeply, and it struck him that maybe she was even more beautiful to him for the same reasons he’d originally agreed with her that this was a bad idea. Because she was Sue Ann. Because he’d known her forever. To be this way with someone he’d known so long ratcheted up the intimacy level, big time. And somehow pushed him to bend over her, lowering a kiss near her hip.
She sucked in her breath—a light, pretty, sexy sound—but he didn’t look up at her; he just let that little noise wrap around him, fuel him, as he parted her legs and delivered another soft kiss, this one to her inner thigh. It made her moan. And turned his cock still harder. A small growl echoed from his throat as he sank his mouth to where she was wet and hot for him. And then he dragged his tongue through her moist folds, listening to her heated sighs, coming thready and passionate from above.
He got lost in kissing her and licking her that way—and though part of him felt just as impatient as he had a few minutes ago, a better part of him wanted nothing more than to pleasure her, to show her how good he could make her feel.
He was pretty sure he achieved that when her moans grew deeper, more insistent, when she lifted herself against his mouth—when finally she cried out her orgasm in a symphony of “Oh God! Oh God!” and the small heated sobs that followed.
When she went quiet a few seconds later, her body going still, he rose up to face her. She sat biting her lip, one hand clutching tight to the back of the seat, the other curled around the handle of the glove compartment as if holding on for dear life. At some point, Harry Connick, Jr. and Lee Ann Womack had started singing a very sexy version of “Baby, It’s Cold Outside,” on the radio. Sue Ann’s eyes looked wild.
Meeting her gaze darkly, Adam wasted no time hauling her back into his lap—then reaching to ease the seat back into the extended cab behind them. She was already working to open his jeans when he whispered in her ear, “Ride me, Sue Ann.”
Sue Ann could barely breathe. She hardly knew what had come over her. But wait—yes she did. Adam had come over her. Stark need had come over her. She’d thought she had this situation at least somewhat under control, but clearly control had fled the scene—right about the time he kissed her hand.
And so now she was reaching into his underwear, wrapping her hand around his firm erection, and relishing his sexy command.
And Lord, she wanted to feel him, flesh to hot flesh—but apparently she still possessed at least a little of her brain, since she asked, “Do you have . . . ”
“Shit, almost forgot,” he said, then lifted slightly to maneuver the same well-worn wallet from his back pocket that she herself had retrieved a condom from last week. This time he did the retrieving, tossing the wallet between the seats as he ripped into the foil square, but she did the rolling on, the very act of which heightened her anticipation almost immeasurably. God, she needed him. Now. Inside her.
The sound of their labored breathing filled the truck by the time she lowered herself onto him, her body taking him inch by tantalizing inch—and they both let out low groans at her slow descent. And when he was within her completely, their eyes met in the shadowy darkness, and Sue Ann knew a brand new closeness with him, an intimacy that somehow even surpassed last week. His hands curved warm and solid over her bare hips as she kissed him and then began to move, her desire guiding her instinctively.
Oh God, he felt good inside her, and just like the previous times they’d joined together like this, she let go of all the uncertainties involved and basked in the pleasure he pumped up into her. It echoed through her veins, out to her very fingers and toes—she felt each thrust everywhere.
And she knew she wouldn’t climax again, because she just had—but she didn’t care because this was about a different sort of pleasure, about something raw and hard and animalistic that made her feel . . . free. In this moment, there were no worries, no troubles—there was only Adam and passion and the warmth of this truck all enveloping her, making it so that nothing else in the world mattered.
She met his thrusts, ground her body against his, and delighted in his strong hands rising to her breasts to caress and massage. And she lost herself in the sensations, in the motions, in his intoxicating kisses—to her mouth, then her throat . . . until—oh God, she was wrong. She was going to come again. “Ohhh . . . ” she moaned at the realization. And it was going to be intense.
Then her body hit that peak, that perfect point of no return where the pleasure came raining down over her, rushing all through her, hot and jagged and overwhelming, making her cry out over and over—until finally the rough pulsations faded, leaving her weak and spent as she collapsed against him, arms looped tight around his neck.
His arms closed around her waist and he continued kissing her shoulder, and then the delicate flesh just below her ear, whispering again that she was beautiful, a sentiment that kind of turned her inside out, making her flash back to that day in the department store when he’d helped her feel attractive for the first time in a long while.
But—oh God—that’s when he resumed driving up into her again, hard and deep, stealing her thoughts, making her moan.
She pulled back, met his hot gaze, liked being in his strong arms.
And even when he murmured, “I want to be on top of you,” she liked that, too, for reasons she couldn’t understand but didn’t stop to examine.
The next thing she knew, Adam was lifting, rolling them both, him still snugly inside her, until she lay back in the newly reclined passenger seat, his body hovering above hers. And then he was thrusting again—even harder now, hard, hard, hard—and leaving her flushed from head to toe from the power behind every stroke, the way her body absorbed it, the pulsating sensations assaulting her again and again.
She didn’t know how long they moved together that way, only that she felt profoundly well-pleasured by the time he said, “God—God, now,” plunging into her with still more force as he reached that hot pinnacle himself, releasing a low groan as it overcame him.
Ten minutes later, Sue Ann was dressed, Adam’s pants were zipped, and she sat on his lap, one arm around his neck, thinking: What now?
Then he kissed her.
Okay, kissing was now. And as usual, his kiss moved all through her like some warm, slow-flowing liquid, saturating her from head to toe. But once the kiss was over she had to get serious here, had to come back to herself. She had to tell him the truth that still permeated her, no matter how close she felt to him or how good the sex had been.
“Adam,” she said, “what we just did . . . it can’t happen again.”
She waited fo
r him to agree, as he had last week—so even despite what he’d said earlier about being unable to stop thinking about her, it took her aback when he hesitated, meeting her gaze with his, still all warm and blue in the glow of the dashboard lights. “Why not?”
Hmm. This was unexpected. “Because we agreed.”
“But . . . why did we agree?” he asked. “I mean, I thought it made sense at the time, but now I’m not so sure.”
Sue Ann took a deep breath and decided this would be easier if she were sitting by herself in the passenger seat instead of on top of him in the driver’s seat. But even as warm and sturdy as he felt, she had to stick to her guns. It was the only thing that made sense to her. “It’s . . . really soon after my divorce.”
“I know,” he said as if that were no reason at all.
“And I have to think of Sophie, too. I can’t be bringing a new man into her life when it may not last.”
“I’m not a new man in her life. I’m her godfather. I’ll always be there.”
But she ignored that, going on. “And . . . I have to protect myself, protect my heart. I’m . . . emotionally vulnerable right now, you know?”
He simply gave his head a pointed tilt. “I would never hurt you, Sue Ann.”
She bit her lip, wanting to believe him. Yet it was impossible not to be wary. He’d probably thought he would never hurt Sheila, either. And yet, the sad truth was, as she’d learned the hard way recently, even the best of men could change, could make mistakes, could do things you’d never imagine.
“How can you know?” she ventured. “Never is a long time. And . . . it’s awfully soon for a relationship. For me. And besides, I have so much to deal with right now. I was busy enough before, but Jeff’s alimony petition has opened up more than one big can of worms for me, you know?”