He wondered at how a trip to grab coffee and stretch his legs had turned into Holly being here with him. He didn’t invite women to his home, and he told himself he’d done so with Holly because she came with no strings attached; she wasn’t in town to stay. Come the end of the holiday season, she would be gone. He didn’t want or need the complications of a small-town romance, especially not when he was in the middle of a major life change in starting a new business.
But none of that explained why he felt so right sitting with her in front of the fireplace. Why the silence between them was comfortable rather than awkward. Why he could look at her for long spells of time without losing interest and it had nothing to do with the lust she’d stirred within him.
Lust that pulsed through his veins at rocket speed as she did a languid stretch before turning her attention on him. A barely there, shy smile tugged on her pretty pink mouth and told a silent story—in a mere two hours, she was done with her ten pages. And he was more than ready to offer her the reward.
As if confirming his observations, she pushed to her feet, her jeans cradling a lush ass the way, he vowed, his hips would be, sometime before this night was over. She crossed the room toward him, and he had no qualms about openly admiring the natural sway of her feminine curves as she sashayed toward him.
“All done, I take it?” he asked, leaning back in the leather desk chair, exploring the nuances of what made Holly, Holly—what made her so damn addictive.
“I am,” she confirmed, easing around the desk to perch beside him on the edge of the wooden surface. “But now that I’ve finished my ten pages, I have a confession to make.”
“Confession?” he inquired, his interest piqued.
“That’s right,” she said, sliding along the edge of the desk and scooting to sit directly in front of him.
Cole’s gaze slid over her legs and he contemplated the moment he would inch them apart and find his way inside her. “Tell me,” he urged, returning his attention to her face.
“I was afraid you’d be a distraction I couldn’t afford,” she admitted. “So when I went to The Tavern to meet you, I planned on one hot night, nothing more. No names. No tomorrows.”
“And now?”
“Your idea of work for reward has thus far proven to be far more motivational than it has been a distraction.” Her tone turned to teasing flirtation. “Of course, I have yet to find out if the reward is as good as the promise.”
Cole slid his chair closer, his hands settling on her knees. “I can assure you, Holly, that the reward will most definitely be worth the work.” His palms caressed a path up her legs, thumbs brushing her inner thighs to the fiery hot V of her body. She flushed and sucked in a tiny breath. Her responsiveness pleased him, and he’d barely gotten started. His hands tracked a path back to her knees. Slowly, he inched them apart.
“Are you ready for me?”
He reached down and tugged one of her boots off, setting her foot on his thigh. She had on pink polka-dot socks.
Holly laughed. “I didn’t plan on showing my socks to anyone today.”
Cole gave her a steamy look. “I can’t wait to see what other surprises you have for me.”
Cole discarded her other boot and set her foot on his thigh, his hands traveling down her calves as he pulled the socks off to reveal equally pink toenail polish. He smiled. She clearly liked pink. It fit her. A lovely, pink, passion flower yet to bloom. That was his job and he was going to enjoy every last minute of it.
“Anything else pink?” he questioned.
“Guess you’ll have to wait and see,” she joked back.
“Show me, Holly.”
Chapter Six
Show me, Holly.
Holly’s heart thundered in her ears as she replayed his words in her head. With any other man, she’d refuse to be completely naked and exposed, afraid of the vulnerability. But she trusted Cole, illogical as it might be since the man was a virtual stranger.
Nervous anticipation raged wildly within her, but not as severely as her desire for this man. She slid off the desk, bringing herself eye level with Cole’s rich brown stare—a connection that touched her inside and out. She didn’t remember ever looking into a man’s eyes and feeling the sensations Cole created inside her. She coveted this man—or at least her body did—yearned for him in a way that downright shook her to the core. His hands nestling beneath her sweater, resting on her bare skin, and warming her, offered incentive to move forward, to feel more of his touch.
Reaching to the hem of her top, she pulled it over her head and exposed her turquoise blue bra. The rawness of his male hunger sent a shiver of excitement through her that thundered to a powerful halt between her legs. The look on his face said he wanted her. Watching her undress turned him on.
Aroused, empowered by this knowledge, Holly unsnapped her jeans and slid the zipper down. Cole leaned back in his chair again, allowing her room to shimmy the denim over her hips. She left the panties on. They matched her bra.
“No pink,” she said, running her hands over the top of her bra, trying to forget reserve and simply act out her fantasies.
Powerful sensuality poured from his eyes as he leaned forward again and reached for her—positioning her between his legs, his hands shackling her hips.
“Take it off,” he urged, his voice low, husky, his expression drawn with lust and desire. “Take it all off.”
He clearly didn’t care about pink or blue at this point. Gone was the laughter of moments before, replaced by something darker, richly passionate. And it both aroused and frightened her. This was the part where she feared she couldn’t keep up, where she wouldn’t know what to do. Or she’d look stupid doing it. But she wanted more of this darker Cole. Much more. She decided she would grant his wish, yield to his demand, as one might jump off a cliff into a body of crystal clear water. To get to the destination, there could be no slow, thoughtful tumble over the edge.
Holly unhooked her bra, tossing it aside, freeing her breasts. Cole’s instant, ravishing inspection pebbled her nipples into tight balls. It was all she could do to stop herself from reaching up and touching them, to ease the throb of need. But she hesitated, suddenly back on the edge of that cliff again, her instinctive reserve something she couldn’t seem to let go of.
But Cole didn’t give the reserve time to take root. His hands settled on her hips, positioning her as she was before, between his strong thighs. His tongue quickly lapped at one sensitive nipple. Holly moaned with the sudden, unexpected pleasure, her hands sliding into his hair as he repeated the act on the other nipple.
He pressed her hands back to her breasts, melding the soft flesh with both of their hands. Then he spread her fingers, teased her nipples with his fingers and hers, before lowering his head. With her fingers still framing the stiff peaks, he licked and teased. It was an erotic sharing of her pleasure that had her dripping wet, her core clenching with desire, with unfulfilled need.
She reached for his shirt and tugged, shoving it up the wall of his muscular chest. He yanked it over his head and tossed it aside. His mouth lowered, slanting over hers in a hungry kiss.