Free The Bare Facts by Karen Anders Page B

Wandering into the Italian-tiled bathroom, she fondled the handle of his razor and discovered that the soap he used was what made him smell so sexy.
    This glimpse into Dylan’s lifestyle and personality only made her want to explore the man on a deeper level. But that wasn’t prudent or wise. The call on the answering machine was proof enough that Dylan hadn’t changed his skirt-chasing ways since college. Realizing that she shouldn’t be snooping around in his place and discovering all this stuff about him, she made her way back to the living room.
    She reached over to make sure that the music was ready. As she straightened, Dylan came through the front door. The look of surprised pleasure was replaced with an intense interest in his eyes. Now there was a kind of hunger that dissipated the butterflies in her stomach and made her feel languid and sexy all at the same time.
    â€œHaley.”
    â€œDid you miss me?” With her unsteady hands, Haley unbelted the raincoat and let it slip from her shoulders. She touched the play button on the boom box and a slow, sultry cadence filled the room with a throbbing beat.
    â€œI’ve been counting the minutes.”
    â€œLet’s do something about that terrible loneliness. Shall we?” Haley ran her hands down the sides of her body in a slow provocative slide. His eyes followed her every movement. She gyrated her hips and began to slip one silky strap of her very short, tight red dress from her shoulder, then the other one. With a little shimmy of her shoulders, the bodice of the silky material slid down, exposing the tops of her creamy breasts. Dylan stood motionless, unable to take his eyes from her.
    His briefcase hit the floor with a thud. He stood there like a man who’d been struck dumb. A thrill of sexual desire shot straight into her woman’s core. His eyes were hungry, possessive and intense.
    â€œDo you wanna dance, Dylan?” She ran her tongue around her lips to wet them, but saw Dylan’s reaction as he watched her perform the innocent act. She did it again, more provocatively, thrilling to the heat that flared in his eyes, drunk on her feminine power.
    â€œCan you dance with flame and not get burned?” He loosened his tie as if it were strangling him.
    â€œLooks like you’re already…scorched. Hot under the collar?” His reaction fueled her own as she slid her hips in a circle, throwing her head back and letting the music take her in its throbbing grip. This was Dylan, whom she’d wanted to explore in college. A man every woman found exciting, powerful and desirable and he was looking at her as if she was the main course.
    â€œWhy don’t you bring your hot little body over here and I’ll show you,” he begged.
    She brought her head up and felt a thrill of desire at the sight of him. His eyes were heavy-lidded, thick, dark lashes veiling the violent jade of his eyes. She wondered if there was a green anywhere in the world as green as his eyes.
    She could see the way his chest rose and fell, the glaze of desire in his eyes. She undulated toward him, unable to wait another minute to touch him. Her hands went to his loosened tie and unknotted it, pushing the offending suit coat off his shoulders. When he tried to touch her, she sidled out of his reach, darting behind him and rubbing her breasts against his back. She could feel the heat of him through his cotton dress shirt and the thin lace material of her decadent bra. Her mouth found the nape of his neck and she kissed him, absorbing the sound of his pleasure like moisture on her skin, breathing deep of that knee-melting sexy smell, which she couldn’t get enough of.
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    D YLAN FELT HER tongue against his neck like a flick of flame and then she was gone, moving around his body to stand in front of him again. The music beat in rhythm to the frantic, hard beat of his heart; he watched her every move. When he reached for her again, she