Ablaze (11 page)

Dylan placed a finger on Angel's lips to
hush her. "No, I'm not mad and no you're not going to die in your sleep.
It's late, you look tired. You need more than a couple hours of sleep to get
rid of your eyebags. I shouldn't keep you." He leaned down and gave Angel
a kiss. He meant it to be a quick meeting of their lips, but it turned into a
wet, arousing and tongue-dueling kiss. Holly hell. He shouldn't have done it,
because now his dick quickly came to a full alert--again.

Before he lost his head and did more than
kissing, he ended the kiss and let go of Angel's hand. "Goodnight, babe."
He turned on his heel and didn't stop until he was inside his room facing his
laptop. He read his rule number one.
One: Flirt, fuck, but run when
feelings start to get involved.
Could he really run away this time?

Chapter Eleven

Wow. That was amazingly insane! How in the
world did they ended up kissing? Twice? And my oh my, what a kiss that was. God,
he made her toes curl. What had come over to both of them? If Tony hadn't
interrupted them, who knew what would have happened. Maybe they would devour
each other right there on the stairs. Holy heck. That would be too kinky.

Angel closed her door and quickly changed
into her boxer shorts and plain long shirt that covered her thighs. She sat in
the middle of her bed and tried to summarize the events of the day. A taxi
dropped her off blocks away from Pink Door, she fell, walked into a cool
restaurant, met Dylan, they shared a slice of cake, he watched her sleep, met
his funny and equally delicious brothers, and then Dylan kissed her. Not a bad
day, actually. She wondered what Bianca would say about her meeting Dylan. Serendipity?

Sighing, she lay down, stretched her body
and then closed her eyes. Pepe Le Pew, she was tired. Dylan was right. She
needed more sleep to recover.

Still, how could she sleep when delectable
Dylan slept next door to her? Thoughts about their kiss whirred in her head
like a loud ceiling fan. She should feel embarrassed about kissing someone she
hardly knew, but she wasn't. She bet women who were having a secret tryst felt
this way, too. They would follow their feelings first and throw caution to the
wind. Consequences be damned.

Could it be that her loneliness, pain from Willy's
betrayal, and disappointment melded together and created a devouring yearning
to be with someone else again? Like a rebound effect. Or maybe she was attracted
to Dylan. Plain and simple.

Angel opened her eyes and thought about
Dylan's reaction to their conversation about Dee Bennett's book. Her comment
about the author's writing had caused Dylan's brows to rise as if he was
offended. He must really like the author. She should have asked him if he'd
seen the movie. If not, maybe they should watch it. Could be a good source of
conversation.

Somewhere, a faint sound of train blowing
its horn sounded. Back in North Carolina they lived near the water where a
train would pass by. Many times, in the late night hours, she had lain awake
listening to its chugging sound. Like tonight.

Angel sat up. What was the use of lying down
when you couldn't sleep anyway? She should just sculpt with her practice polymer
clay. Feeling lethargic but mentally awake, she scooted off the bed.

Good thing I brought my clay and tools.
Her suitcases were still on the floor. Later, she'd
unpack her things. She was about to open her suitcase when a soft knock sounded
on her door. "Who is it?"

"Baby, we're the only ones living here."

"Oh, just a sec." She finger
combed her hair real quick and looked at her shirt. Why in the world did she
wear this for pajamas? Did she brush her teeth? Yes, she did. She was about to look
for a change of shirt when she realized how silly she'd been acting. Lord have
mercy.

Dylan knocked again. "Are you decent?"

Angel walked over to the door and opened it
just a crack. "I'm already in my pajamas."

"I already saw you in your M & M
shorts. Decent enough. I saw your light still on so I thought maybe you're just
shy to ask for my help."

"Help for what?"

"Keeping the demon away."

"Really? Uhm, well the demon has
nothing to do with me staying up."

"Is it the pillows or the sheets?"

It's because of you.
Angel opened the door wider. "Neither. I was just
going to sculpt when you knocked. Sometimes playing with my polymer helps me
sleep. So…thanks for your offer."

"You're welcome." Dylan leaned
against the doorjamb and tapped a book on his palm.

"What do you have there?"

"Dee Bennett's
Meet Me at Pier 59.
"

"So you weren't kidding."

"Nope. I thought I should read a few
pages to you. You think it's boring so this might help you fall asleep quicker."

"Now, you're kidding."

"No. Scoot." He took a step
forward.

"Dylan, I--" Angel didn't have a
choice but to move aside. Either that or get bowled over by a pure masculine
frame.

Dylan walked inside the room and to Angel's
surprise, went to her bed, fluffed her pillow and then leaned against the
headboard with his ankles crossed. Did he mean they would share the bed while
he was reading?

"Come on, babe." He turned part of
the sheet down and then patted the bed.

"What happened to your chair?"

"This is more comfortable."

"But you're on my bed."

"Afraid of me, babe?"

"Why would I be afraid of you?"

"Because I'm charming and you wouldn't
be able to resist me."

Angel rolled her eyes. "I've never met
a downright arrogant man in my life."

"Just telling the truth. Don't just
stand there. Come here and listen. No charge. We're friends after all."

Friends don't kiss with their tongues.
"Well, how could I say no to that?" Angel,
with her heart skipping wildly, walked toward the bed, all the while eyeing the
long limbs lying on top of the sheet. He wore blue shorts that were barely
touching his knees and no socks. He was too tall that he had to position
himself somewhat horizontally. She stared at his feet and observed his toenails
neatly trimmed, long toes except for the little one that curved inside. His
skin was smooth, too, she noticed. Angel smiled to herself. Did he use Olive
oil to keep his skin from drying?

"Babe, I'm beginning to feel like a
nude statue at the museum. Should I pose for you?"

Caught staring, Angel was helpless to stop
her embarrassment.
I am such a twit.
"No. No need for posing. I'm
just thinking everything about you looks so long. Fingers, arms, legs, thighs,
torso. Except for your little toes. They look demented."

"What?" Dylan laughed, then peered
down at his little toes. "Good God, woman. My little toes maybe short but not
demented. Those are the only part of me that are short. Just so you know."

Let me be the judge of that. Gah! What
judging am I thinking about?

"Just lay down will you?"

"Alright,
babe,
" saying the
last word mockingly. She hopped on the bed and got under the sheet. Since Dylan
was on top of the other half of the sheet, they didn't touch. But she could
almost feel his hot body through his white shirt. So alive, so virile, so
deliciously attractive. And he smelled so clean. Angel sighed and looked at the
ceiling.

Dylan shifted from his position so he was
almost facing her. "You know what? I believe you couldn't sleep because
you think too much."

"My flaw. I always think about how to
solve the world's problems."

"No wonder you have wrinkles and grey
hair."

"Shut up. Just read."

"And you need to lay off the caffeine,
baby. You had three cups of frap today."

"No can do. Just read. I can't believe--"

"Yeah, yeah. You can't believe a man
with perfect features, hot and sexy like me would read books only old women reading
porn would pay attention to. Got that message already."

"I didn't say you're perfect and sexy."

"You're thinking it though."

Angel's breath. Did she say what she was
thinking out loud? "No. Never crossed my mind."

"You don't think I'm sexy."

If you get any sexier I'll believe that you're
an immortal God.
"No. You're too…too big." Angel
adjusted her pillow and avoided looking at Dylan's eyes.
Lord, oh Lord. Give
me strength not to attack this man.
"Okay, back to the book, Dylan
Francis Band. You must agree, this book is porn and the author is bad."

"I'm not bad."

"Sorry?"

"I mean I do have a good taste when it
comes to books and this one is good. So, listen, babe, and I'll prove it to
you."

"Alright." She turned on her side
with her hands beneath her pillow. She acquired this habit since she was a
child. She liked to tuck her feet beneath a big pillow, too, but she couldn't'
do that right now. Not with Dylan lying beside her. What in the world did she
do to deserve this wondrous night? A scent of his shampoo reached her nose. "You
smell nice."

* * * *

Dylan stopped thumbing the pages of the
book. Why did she have to say things like that? It was hard enough that they
were on the same bed together, but for her to say he smelled nice just made it
more difficult to contain his simmering desire.

When he went to the kitchenette to get a
glass of water and saw her lights still on, an idea popped on his head--read to
her. So he knocked on her door. The reading idea was a good excuse to talk to
her and at the same time, he'd be able to defend his book, too, if she said
something awful about it. He knew it was going to be tough staying in the same
room with the exquisite woman he wanted so badly to kiss and make love with,
but it didn't occur to him that it would be a torture.

Glancing down at his shorts, he adjusted his
shirt to make sure his erection wasn't obvious. Dylan opened the book to
chapter one. "Thanks."

"I like the smell of freshly laundered
clothes."

"Ah, you mean to say I smell like
detergent." Dylan looked at Angel. She was laughing beneath the sheet. "Funny,"
he said, then pulled the sheet off her face.

"I mean to say you smell so fresh and
clean and of vanilla. My favorite. Well, second to lavender, of course."

"Uh-huh. You know, you really know how
to make a man feel so small. I'm not charming, not sexy, with demented toes,
and I smell like Ajax."

"You do have beautiful eyes with lashes
like a llama, perfect teeth, straight nose, and--"

"Wait. A llama? Like the cud-chewing
animal with huge teeth?"

"Yeah. They are so cute!"

"Okay." Dylan opened his book. "I
think I'd better start reading. I can feel my self-esteem down to my calves
now."

"I said you have beautiful eyes. You
should say
thank you
."

"You compared me with a llama!"

Angel turned on her belly and burst out
laughing.

Dylan touched her nape to tickle her. Angel
shrieked and tried to grab his arm. "Ah, now I know how to get even with
you."

"Don't you dare, Dylan." Without
warning, she pinched his thigh.

"Ow! Crab."

Angel turned on her side and used her hand
to prop her head up. "Start reading."

Damn, she had no idea what her position was
doing to him right now. Even beneath the sheet, he could see the contour of her
body, the rise of her hips, the dip on her waist, and her longs legs that he
found so mesmerizing.

"I'm waiting," Angel said in
singsong tone.

Clearing his throat, Dylan began reading. "
The
cold Pacific Northwest air whipped around her that she nearly lost her red
shawl. She knew the weather would be harsh and a thin shawl wouldn't be enough
to keep her warm. But like the other day and days before, she wore it.
"

"She must be old fashioned."

"What made you say that?"

"Nowadays, people wear coats or ski
coats when it's cold. Not a shawl. That's
Jacqueline Kennedy
'
s era, thus old fashioned."

"Okay. Maybe that's true, but if you
listen to the story you'll know why she wears the red shawl all the time."

Angel replied with a pretend snore.

"You are really getting on my nerves,
babe."

Angel smothered a laugh with her pillow. "Why?
You didn't write that story."

You have no idea, baby.
"When someone's reading you should at least pretend
you're listening."

"Fine. I will. But could we just go
straight to the porn part of the story?"

Dylan dropped the book on his lap. It was a
good thing, too, because a sudden rush of blood thickened his dick in a hurry. "Baby,
you ask a very dangerous question."

"Only if you make it to be. Nothing
wrong with skipping the prose part of the story. Jump to the action."

"Do you know that reading erotic sex
scenes in a book is comparable to watching sex scenes in the movie? It affects
you, your mind, and your whole body. It makes you warm all over the way a shot
of whiskey would on a cold day."

"Wow. You
should
write a book."

I already have.
"And I might add, baby, that reading the
porn
part
of the story with a beautiful woman on my side
is
dangerous."