Jingle Bell: Rock Part 2

He shuddered against her, asking roughly, "Would you?"

"No." She again started to lunge away but Booker held on and they stumbled into the wall.

"If you'll just settle down and listen, I'll explain." Cautiously, he turned her around so she faced him. Then, before she could protest, he looked at her mouth, appeared drawn there and he started kissing her again, light, teasing kisses. "I swear, Frannie, you have the s.e.xiest mouth."

"In about two seconds, I'm going to unman you with my knee." He released her and stepped back so quickly, she almost smiled. "Now, if you insist, you can explain while you help me move my stuff." If he kept his hands busy moving her furniture, he couldn't have them busy feeling her up, and she wouldn't have to worry about resisting him.

He followed her to the bedroom, reacting to her antagonism with inexhaustible good humor. "Sure thing, Frannie." Muscles flexed and his shoulders strained when he hefted a nightstand high and started out the door with it. "Hey, do you realize your room will be right next to mine now?"

Frances froze in the process of lifting a plant. Good G.o.d, he was right. Only a thin apartment wall would separate them now. He came back into the room, saw her stunned expression, and clicked his tongue. "What are you thinking, Frances Kennedy? Can I trust you not to put your ear to the wall? Will you drill a hole and peek at me at night? I sleep naked you know."

Heat pulsed in her cheeks. "Booker..."

"In fact, if you actually want a peek, I'd be more than happy to-" He reached for the snap on his jeans.

Frances shoved the plant into his arms. "I was just wondering if I'd have to listen to you and Judith."

He chided her with a look. "Nope. I told you, that's over. Actually, it's been over for a month. I just wasn't sure how to finish it off."

She desperately wanted to believe that. "So what changed?"

With great relish, he confided, "She wants Axel."

"She what?"

Booker laughed. "Don't sound so shocked. I haven't met too many women who don't want Axel."

"Well, I certainly don't." Axel was a nice enough guy, and she could see why he'd be popular with the females. But it was this particular brother who pushed all her b.u.t.tons. Not Axel. Not any other man.

"I'm really glad to hear that. He can have Judith, but I don't want him to even look at you funny."

Like a zombie, Frances moved to the end of her mattress and helped Booker lift it. Her thoughts were churning this way and that. "You don't seem upset that she might want your brother."

"No 'might' to it, and no, as I told Axel, I'm relieved." He winked at Frances. "Leaves me free and clear for other... pursuits."

Frances ignored that bit of nonsense for now. "Did Judith tell you she wanted Axel?"

"No." Booker wrestled his end of the mattress into the other room. "From my understanding, she just caught Axel alone and tried to molest him."

Frances snorted. "Yeah right. Like Axel ever needs to be coerced."

Booker paused to give her a long look around the side of the mattress. "He's my brother, honey. Whatever else he might be, he's loyal to family."

Somewhat chastened, Frances dropped her end of the mattress. "Meaning he wouldn't go behind your back with Judith?"

"That's right. She came on to him, he turned her down, but felt he had to let me know. Rightfully so because what man wants to tie himself to a woman who's after his brother?"

"Only an idiot."

"And I'm sure we'll both agree I'm not an idiot." He didn't wait for her agreement at all. "But as it turns out, I'm pleased to have the perfect opportunity to end things." He, too, let his end of the mattress rest on the floor. "I'd been working on that anyway."

Frances bit her lip and tried not to sound too hopeful. "You have?"

"Yeah, I have. Only I'm a nice guy and I didn't want to hurt her." His voice lowered. "We haven't been... close for a month anyway."

It had been about a month that he'd been coming around more often, staying longer, teasing her more.

But did he mean he hadn't slept with Judith in a month? Her brows drew down in disbelief.

"Now Frannie, don't look at me like that. Have I ever lied to you?"

"No. But you've never acted interested either."

He sighed, lifted the mattress again and dragged it the rest of the way into the room. Frances thought he was going to let the subject drop until he said, "I've always been attracted to you, Frannie. From the first time I saw you, I knew I wanted you."

She swallowed hard, frowned, then turned away. Booker followed her back into the bedroom where they tackled the bedsprings next. Unable to keep it in, she finally grumbled, "You hid it well."

He grinned. "Really? Maybe I should have been an actor." They both strained to get the c.u.mbersome bed-springs through the doorway. Once it was in place with the mattress, Booker dusted off his hands. "I must be more accomplished than I realized. I mean, I know I didn't come right out and tell you, but if all the attention didn't clue you in, then I thought for sure the occasional b.o.n.e.r would be a giveaway."

Frances silently cursed herself for blushing again. She retreated back to her room to dismantle the bed frame.

Booker knelt beside her. "Frances?"

"I never noticed."

"Never noticed what?"

Keeping her attention on the task at hand, she blindly gestured toward his lap and gave a whopper of a lie. "Any... b.o.n.e.rs."

Booker clutched his heart theatrically and toppled back on his rear. "G.o.d, I'm wounded. You really know how to damage the old male vanity, hon."

Laughing, Frances lifted one half of the frame and stood. Truth was, she'd noticed a few erections here and there, but had always discounted them as some strange male phenomenon. Guys got hard for the most ridiculous reasons.

Booker came to his feet to face her. Losing his smile, he stared at her with beguiling seriousness and seductive charm. "How about now?"

"Now?"

Without looking away from her eyes, he took her wrist and carried her hand to his fly where a thick ridge had risen beneath his denims. The second her fingers touched him, he caught his breath and his voice went hoa.r.s.e. "Can you notice this one?"

A rush of giddiness nearly took Frances's knees out from under her. He was long, thick and hard... how could she not notice? She thought of him naked, thought of him pressing inside her, filling her up, and her fingers curled tight around him. Booker's eyes closed and she heard the roughness of his breathing.

Filled with curiosity, she traced his length upward, then back down again, measuring him, teasing herself. Booker locked his jaw. "Keep that up and I'm going to lose it."

She barely heard his words. Lifting her other hand, she covered him completely, stroking, squeezing, reaching lower to feel the heavyweight of his t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es. His teeth clenched. "Frances, I've wanted you too long to have any patience. Add that to month-long celibacy, and I'm working on a hair trigger here."

So, it really had been a month? That meant something, didn't it?

He stood rigid before her, letting her do as she pleased. Or rather, as she dared. She wanted to push him to the floor and strip him naked, but everything had happened too quickly...

Releasing him, she stepped back. It took him a moment, but Booker finally got his eyes open. He looked in pain. He looked ready to jump her bones. Suggestively, he said, "Why don't we finish putting the bed together?"

"All right."

His eyes flared at her agreement.

d.a.m.n it, she hated her conscience sometimes. "But Booker, I can't... we can't, do anything until you've officially broken things off with Judith. You said you're a nice guy. Well, I'm a nice woman. And like your brother, I want no part of poaching."

Booker frowned. "Speaking with her is just a formality at this point."

"It's a formality I'll have to insist on." In the darkest part of her soul, Frances was afraid that Judith would beg him not to leave her, and he'd agree. She knew it was wrong to hope things would be over between them, especially if Judith would be hurt. But she wished it just the same.

Booker hesitated a long moment before agreeing. "All right. Let's get done here and I'll go call her. But it won't matter, Frannie, not to me."

Hoping that was true, Frances nodded. They spent the next hour setting up her bedroom. Booker even helped her remake the bed, then rearrange everything in her new studio so that the job was complete. The busy work afforded Frances a little time to think about the new turn of events.

When they'd finished and the last item was in place, Booker caught both her hands and bent to kiss her. "If Judith is home, I could be back here in no time."

Booker Dean was more temptation than any woman should have to endure. Regretfully, Frances shook her head. "Booker, I need some time to adjust to this. You can't just expect me to take it all in stride."

"Do you want me, Frances?"

"Yes." She didn't mind admitting that much. "I have for a long time."

His triumphant smile was s.e.xy and pure male.

"But I still need some time to think things through."

"How much time?"

"I don't know. At least until tomorrow."

Disappointment showed in the drawing of his brows, the darkening of his eyes. "Tomorrow, huh?"

Unable to continue meeting his gaze, Frances looked down at her feet. "You need time to think about this too, you know. You could still change your mind. You might be here on the rebound or because you want validation because Judith tried to cheat on you." Frances shrugged, feeling a little helpless, caught between wanting to say yes and having enough common sense to say not yet. "I want you, but I don't want to be used and I don't want regrets and even more than that, I don't want things to get weird between us if we do this, and then tomorrow or the next day or a month from now, you're back with Judith."

Booker said nothing to all that, and Frances had the feeling he waited for her to look at him. Finally she did and got trapped in the mesmerizing intensity of his dark gaze. She had the bed at her back, Booker in front of her, and a whole lot of desire crackling in the air between them.

One side of Booker's mouth tipped in a sensual smile, then he stepped up against her and toppled her onto the mattress. Before she could catch her breath, he came down over her. His solid chest crushed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, his hard abdomen pressed into her stomach. Like a tidal wave, desire rolled through her.

Booker cupped her face, kissed her nose, her forehead, her chin. "I don't want Judith. I haven't wanted Judith since I got to know you. But I'll wait. I'll give you some time. And while you're thinking things over, Frances, think about this."

His earlier kisses had been teasing, tentative.

This one scorched her.

Using his thumbs, he nudged her chin down so her lips parted. He sank his tongue in, leisurely exploring while giving her that full-body contact she'd craved for so long.

Her hands gripped his shoulders, holding on. His hips moved in a carnal press and retreat, mimicking how he'd take her if only she'd say yes. Frances moaned, then moaned again when his fingers found her breast, gently cuddled her, traced her nipple-and then he was gone.

It wasn't easy, but she got her eyes open to see Booker standing between her legs at the side of the bed. He stared down at her, his face flushed, his chest heaving, his dark gaze fierce.

Frances pushed up on one elbow. "Booker?"

"If I don't go now, I won't go at all. But I want more than just a quick tumble, Frannie. You'll figure that out on your own, without me pushing you. So... good night." He took one step back from the bed. "Think about me tonight. And try trusting me just a little."

She watched him leave the room, then dropped back down to the mattress with a long groan. Good gracious, Booker on the make was even more exciting than she'd ever imagined. And if he was like this when she said no, how tantalizing would he be when she finally said yes?

Chapter Three.

No way was she going to be able to sleep. It was midnight, but her body hummed and her mind was in turmoil. Had he called Judith yet? What had happened?

Frances punched the pillow, moaned in frustration, and rolled to her side. She'd asked for tonight to think. But all she could think about was whether he'd called Judith, what might have happened, if it was really over. Why didn't he call and tell her?

She moaned again. When she saw him tomorrow, she'd...

"Frances?"

She froze at the m.u.f.fled call of her name. Eyes wide in the dark, she peered around but saw nothing. No one.

A knock sounded on the wall right behind her head. "C'mon Frannie. I hear you in there." The squeak of his bed resonated through the wall.

Frances jerked upright. "Booker?"

"Of course, it's Booker. I told you we'd be sleeping right next to each other." Silence, then: "Why did you moan?" And sounding a little wishful: "Thinking of me?"

"Yes."

Throbbing silence. "What are you doing over there, Frannie?"

The way he said that, she knew exactly what he thought she was doing. She punched the wall, heard him curse softly, and smiled. "Get your mind out of the gutter, you pervert. I was beating up my pillow."

"How come?"

Because you made me all hot and bothered and then walked away. "Because I can't sleep."

"And? You can't sleep because... ?"

Through her teeth, Frances snarled, "Because I'm wondering if you spoke with Judith and how it went, but you didn't bother to call and tell me."

"Oh."