as their flesh met. The simple brush caused his heart to start pounding again.
Â
I T DIDNâT TAKE them long to clean up. Haley found that she was relieved and strangely bereft that heâd moved away from her earlier. She did everything she could to keep her distance. As soon as the dishes were done, she asked, âCould we go now?â
She felt him come up behind her. His voice was soft, âSure, honey.â Then very gently he moved themass of her hair and kissed the back of her neck. Every single cell in her body went liquid. Dylan slid past her and walked back up the stairs.
A tremor of fear rumbled through Haley. Fear of the control she had lost so completely. Fear of the incredible pleasure Dylan had given her. An old fear that told her if it felt too good to be true, it usually was.
She couldnât let herself want Dylan for anything more than a man to help her experience sex so she could write a realistic article showing women how to spice up their sex lives.
Dylan was the kind of man a woman fantasized about. A man who was selfless in love, knew where to touch her and how to touch her. A fantasy man.
He had a little black book filled with names and numbers. He played the field and she would have to remember that. He was that way in college and it was why she continually told herself she couldnât get involved with him now.
He was the perfect man for the job but not the perfect man for her.
The bare facts were that Haley wanted a man who only wanted her. The idea might be outdated, outmoded or just plain fantasy, but she wanted that white picket fence, her 2.5 children and a husband who would not stray. And, if her readers were honest with themselves, they would admit, in the secret part of their hearts, they wanted the same thing.
Too bad Dylan was the perfect temporary man for the job. It would be easy to fall for him.
And love with a skirt chaser was just not in her plans.
Â
H ALEY STOOD in the intimate apparel section of Bloomingdaleâs and eyed all the merchandise. Itâs not that sheâd never shopped for bras and underwear before, but prior to Dylan sheâd never shopped for sexy, drive-him-crazy underwear before. She went to the black lace bras and perused the selections. They were much more revealing than she would have chosen, but she wanted the striptease fantasy to be very hot.
She closed her eyes and a flutter of nerves began in her stomach. The thought of taking her clothes off in a seductive fashion for Dylan made her both scared and aroused. It was perhaps the forbidden of disrobing for a man that made the idea both sexy and frightening.
She took the bra into the dressing room and tried it on. She needed one that was strapless because the dress sheâd bought had such thin straps.
The lace material cupped her breasts, pushed them up, and she looked at herself, trying to see herself through Dylanâs eyes. Did he find her sexy or was it sex without strings he found so appealing?
Back in college Haley had noticed him right away. He always sat behind her in English class. She could smell his male scent, a combination of spice and soap. She was sure that a couple of times when sheâd left her hair down, heâd played with the end of her curls, but every time she turned around, he looked as innocent as the driven snow.
And innocent he was not.
Not with those dreamy, Iâve-got-what-you-need eyes that promised ecstasy and safety at the same time. Not with his dark, dangerous good looks. Oh no, innocent was not the right word at all.
Warning sounds had buzzed in her head that whole last semester. Every time heâd even hinted that he was going to ask her out, sheâd change the subject or find some way to leave.
She made sure she was always in a group situation with him. It kept her safe in two ways. There were always plenty of women hanging around him, and that provided a great buffer against her having to spend any time with
Â
I T DIDNâT TAKE them long to clean up. Haley found that she was relieved and strangely bereft that heâd moved away from her earlier. She did everything she could to keep her distance. As soon as the dishes were done, she asked, âCould we go now?â
She felt him come up behind her. His voice was soft, âSure, honey.â Then very gently he moved themass of her hair and kissed the back of her neck. Every single cell in her body went liquid. Dylan slid past her and walked back up the stairs.
A tremor of fear rumbled through Haley. Fear of the control she had lost so completely. Fear of the incredible pleasure Dylan had given her. An old fear that told her if it felt too good to be true, it usually was.
She couldnât let herself want Dylan for anything more than a man to help her experience sex so she could write a realistic article showing women how to spice up their sex lives.
Dylan was the kind of man a woman fantasized about. A man who was selfless in love, knew where to touch her and how to touch her. A fantasy man.
He had a little black book filled with names and numbers. He played the field and she would have to remember that. He was that way in college and it was why she continually told herself she couldnât get involved with him now.
He was the perfect man for the job but not the perfect man for her.
The bare facts were that Haley wanted a man who only wanted her. The idea might be outdated, outmoded or just plain fantasy, but she wanted that white picket fence, her 2.5 children and a husband who would not stray. And, if her readers were honest with themselves, they would admit, in the secret part of their hearts, they wanted the same thing.
Too bad Dylan was the perfect temporary man for the job. It would be easy to fall for him.
And love with a skirt chaser was just not in her plans.
Â
H ALEY STOOD in the intimate apparel section of Bloomingdaleâs and eyed all the merchandise. Itâs not that sheâd never shopped for bras and underwear before, but prior to Dylan sheâd never shopped for sexy, drive-him-crazy underwear before. She went to the black lace bras and perused the selections. They were much more revealing than she would have chosen, but she wanted the striptease fantasy to be very hot.
She closed her eyes and a flutter of nerves began in her stomach. The thought of taking her clothes off in a seductive fashion for Dylan made her both scared and aroused. It was perhaps the forbidden of disrobing for a man that made the idea both sexy and frightening.
She took the bra into the dressing room and tried it on. She needed one that was strapless because the dress sheâd bought had such thin straps.
The lace material cupped her breasts, pushed them up, and she looked at herself, trying to see herself through Dylanâs eyes. Did he find her sexy or was it sex without strings he found so appealing?
Back in college Haley had noticed him right away. He always sat behind her in English class. She could smell his male scent, a combination of spice and soap. She was sure that a couple of times when sheâd left her hair down, heâd played with the end of her curls, but every time she turned around, he looked as innocent as the driven snow.
And innocent he was not.
Not with those dreamy, Iâve-got-what-you-need eyes that promised ecstasy and safety at the same time. Not with his dark, dangerous good looks. Oh no, innocent was not the right word at all.
Warning sounds had buzzed in her head that whole last semester. Every time heâd even hinted that he was going to ask her out, sheâd change the subject or find some way to leave.
She made sure she was always in a group situation with him. It kept her safe in two ways. There were always plenty of women hanging around him, and that provided a great buffer against her having to spend any time with
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