Jingle Bell: Rock Part 23

Her nipples grew tight, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s swollen. She desperately wanted him-his mouth, his hands-to ease away the ache. To give her a taste of the pleasure her life had been missing for such a very long time.

But when she cupped her own hands to the sides of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, kneading the fullness, pinching at her nipples with forefingers and thumbs until her breathing quickened and came in sharp, panting bursts, Blue suddenly stopped.

She opened her eyes to find him staring down at her with a fiery gaze. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "Christ, but you're beautiful."

"You don't have to flatter me to get laid, you know." It was so much easier to flirt and to tease than to be overtaken by the rush of emotion evoked by his words. An emotion she didn't want to feel, because in fewer than twenty-four hours she'd be on her way home.

"I thought you might've learned to accept a compliment by now," he said softly, reminding her of how many times and in how many ways he'd soothed her with nothing more than his voice.

She blinked back tears she didn't want to cry and gave him a wry smile instead. "I'm not sure that will ever happen."

He spent a long moment staring into her eyes, a moment during which Jessie had to force herself to remain still, to breathe slowly and calmly, to not reach for him the way she so wanted to do. She should've known she could never escape this weekend without involving more than her body. Now what?

She refused to buy into the hope that he was involving more, a hope that grew the longer he remained silent. Flippant and teasing she could handle. Mindless s.e.x she could handle. A second round of broken hearts would be too much to bear.

"What are you looking at?" she finally asked when it seemed he had no intention of looking away.

"What?" He frowned. "You mean you don't want to know what I'm thinking? Contrary to popular women's magazines, men can use both heads at the same time."

She arched a brow. "Read a lot of Cosmo, do you?"

"Only the covers in checkout lines."

"Hmm. I didn't know the Maxi Mart was so progressive."

"What's with you, Jess? You used to take s.e.x between us seriously. All this time I've been thinking that casual s.e.x and the City att.i.tude was nothing but a ratings ploy. And, yes, I do get HBO."

She shook her head, frightened to death of admitting the truth but knowing a dose of honesty between them would give leaving more of a pleasant after taste. "I have a great life, Blue. I love my job and have incredible friends. The money's great. If I want to travel, I do. If I want to shop, I don't think twice about my budget. There's only one thing I don't have."

"A man."

"No, actually I do have a man. A very nice man. Kind and stable and successful."

"Well, isn't that special." He rolled off of her and onto his back.

She shifted up to lean over him. "It would be, except when he kisses me I feel nothing."

"And when he f.u.c.ks you?"

She shook her head. "I haven't slept with him yet. He's being very patient."

"Sounds like a saint."

"He is." This time Jessie was the one to roll away, to pull her uncertainties around her. "And he deserves a woman who can appreciate him, not one obsessed with s.e.x."

"Doesn't appear to me as if you're obsessed at all."

"But I am. When we're out? All I can think about is what it would be like to sleep with him, to take him home to bed. How unfair is that when I fake even enjoying his kiss? He's everything I've ever wanted, and he leaves me totally cold."

Blue raised up, loomed over her, his expression burning with a possessive, primal heat. "So, you came to me to get off. Yeah, I'm really into being a s.e.x surrogate."

"No, Blue. I can get myself off just fine. I've been doing it for years. I came to you to see if I'm as unresponsive as I seem to be. If it's me... or if it's them." And now for the big confession. "Or if you're the only one who will ever be able to make me come."

"Why don't we find out?" And then he lowered his head.

Chapter Eight.

Her mouth was unbelievably giving and warm; she parried to every thrust of his tongue. And he couldn't believe she had any doubt about her s.e.xuality. He'd never known a woman admit to loving s.e.x the way Jessie Buchanan loved s.e.x.

With her hands gripping his shoulders, he kissed her hard, ruthless in his intention to make her feel anything, everything. To figuratively tear her to pieces, to make her understand the truth of what they shared, the depth of their connection.

To make her feel what she did to him. He wanted her to know that he'd spent all these years hating her because no one else had ever delivered on the physical promises she'd made.

And he wanted to get that back.

When he tore his mouth from hers, she gasped, and gasped again when he moved down her body and curled his tongue around first one pebbled nipple then the other. Back and forth he suckled, drawing on her areolas with his lips, teething her gently until she cried out and writhed.

He took her b.r.e.a.s.t.s in his hands, pressing the plump orbs together, breathing in the scent of her arousal when he nuzzled and lapped at her skin. He wanted to straddle her chest, pump in and out of the soft valley until his b.a.l.l.s retracted into his body and he shot his hot load.

He'd loved f.u.c.king her t.i.ts, and remembered too well the look in her eyes as she'd waited, as she'd watched, her lips parted in antic.i.p.ation as if she wanted his c.o.c.k in her mouth more than she wanted to breathe.

Even now blood surged and he thrust forward, the head of his c.o.c.k sliding along her soft inner thigh. Her hands moved down his sides and she reached between their bodies. He backed up and away before she took him into her hand.

The fire behind him popped and crackled, bathing Jessie's skin in flickering light. He slid farther down her body, kissing his way around her navel and over the swell of her belly until he reached the patch of black hair neatly trimmed above the soft lips of her p.u.s.s.y.

Kneeling between her spread legs, he placed both hands on her thighs and opened her farther, loving the way her juices glistened in the flickering light, like clear crystal sugar coating pink silk.

And the sweetness was all his.

He moved closer, breathing deep of her scent that was salty and warm and caused the fire in his groin to surge hotter. He closed his eyes against the new pressure, opened them again once he found his control. And then he dipped his head, stuck out his tongue and pushed it into her gorgeous c.u.n.t.

She cursed loudly and cried out his name. He swirled his tongue inside her, pulling out to slide the flat from her hole, between her l.a.b.i.a and up to her c.l.i.t. Once there, he drew the hard knot between his lips, sucking her c.l.i.toris into his mouth to flick with the tip of his tongue.

She spread her legs wider, drawing up her knees and pushing up onto her elbows to watch. Her dark eyes reflected the flames from the fire and sparked with a consuming need. He couldn't wait for her to burn him alive.

He wet two fingers with his mouth and, as her eyes flared, pushed them inside her, lowering his head to lap and to suck, teasing her c.l.i.t with soft touches and harder strokes while fingering her in the steady rhythm he knew she loved.

Christ, but she was wet. He couldn't help it; he reared back onto his knees and spread her juices over the head of his c.o.c.k. She whimpered, watching as he gave himself pleasure, and he was almost unable to stop from coming. He closed his eyes and reached behind his b.a.l.l.s, pressing upward against the surge.

And then he felt Jessie's fingers tangling with his as she took over applying the pressure he needed, wrapping her other hand tightly around his shaft while his breathing settled and he found his control. Of course, then it was all he could do to pry her hands away and push her down to her back.

"I love your body, Blue," she breathlessly whispered, clenching her hands into fists where he held her wrists to the floor. "I've barely had you, and already know I'll never get enough."

He gritted his teeth until his jaw ached from holding himself in check. And then he reached for a condom. He sat back, hooked his hands behind her knees and pulled her forward, draping the backs of her thighs over his.

She wiggled even closer, wide open and waiting, her hands reaching down to part her folds and invite him in. The invitation was impossible to resist.

He took hold of his c.o.c.k with one hand, guiding himself forward, leaning his weight on his other hand spread flat on the floor at the side of her head. She sucked in a sharp breath as the head breached her opening, and then her eyes rolled back, her lids fluttered, and her lower body drove up to meet his.

The ride was wild. He kept his hand between their bodies, fingering her c.l.i.t as he pumped to the rhythmic grip of her tight inner walls. Heaven. Pure heaven. She wrapped her legs high around his waist and forced him down. And then one hand was digging into his backside, the other holding his head and pulling him down for her kiss.

Her mouth devoured his even as her body demanded all he had to give. She was slick and hot, and she made it impossible for him to hold back. He couldn't hold back. Not when he was here, between her legs, where he'd never had a reason to deny the urges that drove them both equally.

He swallowed her whimpers and urgent cries, matching each of her upward thrusts with his own downward motion, withdrawing until only the head of his c.o.c.k remained clutched within her tight sheath. Christ, she was sweet. Unbelievably sweet. And hotter than he'd known a woman could be.

And then she burst, releasing her hold on his back and flinging her arms out to the side. Her upper body came off the floor; her head lolled back. Her heels dug into the backs of his thighs. He watched her come, caught unaware by her uninhibited exhibition, by the way she lost herself in the o.r.g.a.s.m, the total and reckless abandon of her physical response.

That was all it took. He shoved forward into her body as far as he could, spilling his seed and flirting with the dark edge of consciousness with each shuddering stroke. She soothed her hands down his back, her body still with silent sobs that threatened to take him apart.

He finally pulled himself free from her body, pulled off the condom and tossed it into the fireside trash before wrapping Jessie in blankets and spooning her limp body with his. Once his breathing had settled and her pulse no longer raced, he tucked loose strands of hair behind her ear.

"Does that answer your question?" he asked, knowing he'd just been handed a mighty big truth, a truth ten years in coming. All this time come and gone and he'd been fooling himself into thinking he'd gotten over this woman.

Or that he ever would.

"Yes," she said with tears in her eyes. "It does."

Yet he had the feeling that neither one of them was the least bit happy with their answers. And that when she left a few hours from now, his shield of bitterness would return. He figured he was going to need it, or else he'd spend the rest of his life wondering why they could never get this right.

Chapter Nine.

Wearing red flannel pajamas and wrapped in a soft woolen throw patterned with gaily wrapped presents and trees, Jessie peeled back the plastic wrap covering her popcorn ball and settled back with a DVD of Bill Murray's Scrooged.

Appropriate for Christmas Eve, she supposed, since she wasn't feeling the least bit ho-ho-ho jolly or gay. What she was feeling was simply impatient, wanting the holidays over and gone so she could get back to the wonderful life of which she'd bragged to Blue.

And it was wonderful. Just lacking in pa.s.sion. And void of o.r.g.a.s.ms she didn't supply. She eyed the package she'd left for herself under the tree she'd spent hours decorating in white, pink and gold.

Surely Santa wouldn't mind if she opened that one early. There wasn't a thing wrong with a single one of the vibrators in her collection. But this was the first one she'd bought designed to look and feel like a p.e.n.i.s. After making love with Blue, she'd been struck with the urge for more than hot pink plastic.

She missed him; she hated to admit it but saw no way around the truth. Blue Miller had grown into a h.e.l.l of a man. The very man who would always hold a place in her heart. For now that put a relationship with anyone else out of the question. For how long, she couldn't say.

Definitely not until these feelings faded to a memory, if they ever did. One she'd be able to look back on fondly, instead of wishing circ.u.mstances had been different, and she'd been able to stay in September and live her life with Blue. He'd never said anything leading her to believe he wanted her there.

But then, when had she given him a chance? When had they talked over anything that mattered? Why hadn't she made the effort after she realized how much of what they'd shared still remained?

Easy enough answer. Because this time she was afraid of being the one rejected.

A light rap on her door caught her with her attention drifting between the movie and the tree. She closed her eyes, ground her jaw, determined to send her well-meaning friends on their way. She was alone; she was not lonely. And she did not need to be smothered in holiday cheer.

With her popcorn ball held in one hand and the other dragging the throw behind her, she readied her growling response and pulled open the door. And there stood the very present she would've begged for if she'd had a chance to sit on Santa's lap.

Blue stood in her doorway wearing boots and jeans, along with a Shearling coat and black cowboy hat that made him seem even larger than he already was, that made Jessie feel small and ridiculously feminine and protected and safe.

Her heart ached, beating so hard and so fast she thought her ribs would break. Tears welled in her eyes; joy made a fist in her throat Her popcorn ball fell in crushed pieces to her feet.

He glanced down at the sugary pink and white mess. "I guess it's safe to a.s.sume you're speechless in a good way, and not that you're thinking up a way to tell me to get the h.e.l.l out of here."

Why was he still standing in her doorway instead of holding her in his arms? "Yes. I mean, no. Don't leave. Come in. Please, come in."

He did, stepping over the threshold, shoving the door closed behind him and sweeping her up into a crushing bear hug. And then she was in his arms and in his lap on the sofa, staring into his face because she couldn't believe he was here. In Dallas. In her condo. On Christmas Eve, when she thought she'd be stuck spending the rest of the night with Bill Murray.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, cupping his face in both of her hands because she still didn't trust that she hadn't dozed off and was dreaming. But he was warm, except where he was cold, and he was bristly with needing to shave.

"You left without getting what you'd come for," he said, digging down into one of his coat pockets.

What was he talking about? Hadn't she learned exactly what she'd needed to know? That no man but Blue Miller would ever be able to make her feel this way because he was the only man she would ever be able to love.

He handed her a black velvet jewelry box. Her hands shook almost too hard to hold it. "What's this?"

"Why don't you open it?"

Because she was scared to death to know what it was? Frightened out of her mind that she'd never again experience this feeling of pure amazement? She lifted the lid of the hinged box and then looked into Blue's eyes as she worked to catch her breath between sobs.

"I was going to bring you a real one," he said, lifting the silver filigree chain from the box and fastening the catch beneath her hair at her nape. "But I didn't want to have to deal with decorations and lights all the rest of that c.r.a.p."

"Wait. I can't see it." She tucked her chin to her chest, doing her best to peer down at the tiny emerald Christmas tree with a diamond star on top. "Oh, Blue. This is gorgeous. And so unexpected. And way too extravagant."

He shook his head. "Not extravagant at all."

"Maybe not for a wife or a girlfriend. But for an ex-lover or one-night-stand?" She gave him a tight smile. "Definitely too much."

"Well, that's the thing," he said, fingering the jeweled charm where it rested in the V of her pajama's lapels. "I thought maybe we could work something out to remedy that 'ex' part."

She blinked once, twice, a third time, uncertain that she was hearing him correctly. "You're asking me to be your lover?"

"That, yes. And..." He took a deep breath and she saw in his hesitation the hurt she'd inflicted all those years ago.

She opened his coat and laid her hands on his chest, over his heart, because it was all she knew to do. "Ask me, Blue. Please."

"We messed up somewhere, Jess. We were too young, I guess. I didn't understand s.h.i.t about why you had to leave. Why you wouldn't let me be your protector." He brushed hair back from her face. "I wanted to be your protector. I wanted to be your lover. And I still do."