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Wild Passion

Page 12

by Mari Carr


  “Merry Christmas,” she repeated.

  Lucas lifted his fork, digging into the mashed potatoes and gravy with gusto. “So how was your day?”

  “It was loud and crazy. You know, the norm, anytime you get the entire Collins clan in one place. There are nearly thirty of us, so by the time the uncles have passed the Jameson around a few times and we’ve opened all the gifts—”

  “Please tell me you don’t buy gifts for all thirty people.”

  Caitlyn made a horrified face. “Good God, no. Can you imagine? We draw names. Then Riley comes up with what she calls ‘the order.’” Caitlyn finger-quoted the last two words. “This year we opened alphabetically, which wasn’t too bad for me. I was pretty close to the beginning as a C.”

  “You have to watch everyone open their gift?”

  Caitlyn nodded. “Of course, otherwise you’d miss everything and wouldn’t know what anyone got. Where’s the fun in that?”

  Lucas shrugged. “Seems to me, it would take forever your way.”

  “It does, but it’s also very entertaining. Some of the gifts are silly, some sweet or sentimental, some practical. In my family, half the fun is talking over everyone else to express your opinion of each present.”

  He shook his head as he took a sip of wine. “Sounds exhausting. And loud.”

  “Maybe just because you’re not used to the big family scene.”

  “Maybe. Did your aunt Riley make all this food? It’s really good.”

  “No.” Caitlyn reached over and snatched a Brussels sprout from his plate. “At the holidays, everyone pitches in. Riley isn’t the only great cook in the family. I mean, my mom and Aunt Teagan just barely hold their own, but Aunt Lily and Aunt Lane make incredible desserts. And Aunt Lauren’s homemade rolls are the bomb.”

  “That’s a lot of aunts.”

  Caitlyn laughed. “Yeah. I have even more uncles though.”

  “That’s right. Your uncle Killian has a partner, Justin, right?”

  Caitlyn hesitated. Since they’d begun dating, she hadn’t talked much about her family. Part of her was distrustful of Lucas’s motives whenever the subject of the pub or her family came up in conversation. She was afraid he was still searching for something he could use against them. Which always made her feel like a fool for going out with him.

  How could she trust Lucas in the bedroom, but not out of it? It should be all or nothing, shouldn’t it? Yet, the truth was, she trusted him completely when it came to sex.

  Her silence didn’t go unnoticed.

  “Never mind, Caitlyn. I can see you’re uncomfortable talking about it.”

  She considered Killian’s relationship with Justin and Lily, as well as her uncle Sean’s with his lovers, Chad and Lauren, and realized neither triad was a secret.

  “Justin and my uncle Killian are in a threesome with Lily.”

  Lucas smiled, and she got a sense he was touched that she was willing to share. “And your uncle Sean has the same relationship with his partners?”

  She nodded. “They’ve all been together for years.”

  “I can’t imagine how that would work. So your uncles are gay?”

  Caitlyn laughed. “Not really. Killian and Justin are straight. Sean and Chad are bi.”

  “And your family is okay with all of this?”

  “Of course.”

  Lucas gave her a funny look, clearly thinking she’d add some caveat. But there wasn’t anything else to say. Her family was fine with it.

  “I don’t think my parents would be quite as understanding about something like that.”

  Caitlyn tilted her head. “That’s a shame. What about you? Any uncles and aunts?”

  “I have two uncles. My mother’s brother lives in Paris with his third wife and a couple of kids I’ve never met. I haven’t seen him in years. My dad has an older brother who’s a confirmed bachelor. He’s out in L.A. I ran into him at a fundraiser last summer and we had a drink together before I had to catch a flight home.”

  “So, that’s it? That’s your whole family? What about grandparents?”

  “All dead.”

  “Oh.” Caitlyn couldn’t conceive of a life so devoid of relatives. “Were you older or younger than Toby?”

  They hadn’t talked much about his brother, and she was curious to know if they’d had a close relationship. She couldn’t help but hope he’d had someone in his family he wasn’t estranged from.

  “Older. And I guess I should clarify, he was my half-brother. My dad’s son and product of an affair he had with his secretary.”

  “Did they get married?”

  Lucas shook his head. “No. My parents’ divorce soured Dad on marriage forever. He’s not good when it comes to sharing his money. He gave Toby’s mom monthly child support and he made sure Toby had the benefit of his name when it came to attending private school and getting into college. I’m certain Dad intended for Toby to join the family business with us after getting his business degree. Toby had other ideas.”

  “Such as?”

  “He wanted to be an actor.”

  Caitlyn winced. “Bet that went over like a lead balloon.”

  “You have no idea. He flunked out of college, took off for New York, but he failed to find any success. He came back to Baltimore and moved in with his mom. Dad gave him a job at Whiting Properties, a position only a step or two above the mailroom. Toby struggled with depression, started using drugs. I tried to get him into rehab, but he was determined to follow the downward spiral all the way to the bottom.”

  “Were you close?”

  Lucas shrugged. “Not while we were growing up or when he was in New York. We’d only really started talking when he took the job at Whiting, but I’m afraid that was more boss to employee than brothers. And of course, it ended when…”

  Lucas fell quiet, not bothering to say the rest. They both knew how the story ended. Despite his assertion that he and Toby weren’t particularly close, Caitlyn couldn’t help but get the sense that he’d cared about his younger brother.

  She struggled to find something to say, something that might give him some comfort. However, she missed her opportunity.

  “This cake should win awards,” Lucas said after a bite of Lane’s German chocolate cake. She sensed he’d grown uneasy with the direction of the conversation, so she let it go.

  It was Christmas, after all, and his day sounded as if it had been dreary enough without her dredging up sad memories from the past.

  “I’ll let Aunt Lane know you liked it.”

  “She’s married to Tris, right?”

  Caitlyn nodded.

  “That guy really doesn’t like me.”

  She laughed. The more time she spent with him, the more she realized her first impression had been completely wrong. She’d thought him cold, serious, imposing.

  Every encounter with him revealed something deeper—and better. He was funny and honest and, while his commanding presence in the bedroom sent shivers up her spine, they certainly weren’t the scary, intimidating kind.

  Caitlyn squeezed her legs together. Dammit. At some point, she would have to find a way to get this man out of her system. She couldn’t spend more than—she glanced at the clock on his oven—thirty minutes in his presence without her mind turning instantly to sex. Of course, now that she thought about it, thirty minutes was her personal best. So she was making progress.

  “Cait,” Lucas murmured.

  Jesus. The man was a freaking mind reader. He had to be. He always seemed to know the second her thoughts had gone south of the border.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Go into the living room and take your clothes off. Kneel by the Christmas tree and wait for me.”

  She stood without hesitation, tugging her sweater over her head as she walked.

  Caitlyn thought she heard him chuckle—no doubt at her serious lack of patience—but she didn’t turn around to confirm or admonish.

  She heard him tidying up the kitchen, r
insing off his plate. He was obviously giving her time to get ready. It didn’t take her long. She hadn’t bothered with panties when she’d climbed out of bed and gotten dressed for this impromptu, late-night—she winced as she gave it the proper name—booty call.

  Of course, it was her booty call, so maybe that made it better somehow. After all, she had come over here hoping the night would end exactly like this.

  Caitlyn knelt by the tree, studying it as she waited for Lucas.

  It was the complete opposite of the tree that currently resided in the Collins Dorm. Colm and Padraig had dragged home the Frasier fir the day after Thanksgiving. She, Lochlan and her ten cousins, along with Pop Pop, had spent the better part of a night polishing off four bottles of wine, six pizzas, and playing through three Christmas albums while trimming the thing.

  It was a giant, living, green scrapbook, every single inch covered with strung popcorn, blinking colored lights and decorated with three generations’ worth of homemade ornaments.

  And then there were the bulbs her grandma Sunday had painted when she and Pop Pop had first moved to America from Ireland, hanging front and center. Pop Pop loved to tell the story of how they hadn’t had money for a big tree or decorations. He’d found a scruffy, dying little tree someone had tossed out and dragged it into their apartment above the pub on Christmas Eve. Grandma had been so delighted, she’d grabbed a box of lightbulbs from the cabinet, painted them with beautiful wintry scenes, tied string to the end and proudly decorated their tiny tree with the four ornaments. Somehow, all four lightbulbs had survived the decades.

  Although now that she thought about it, Caitlyn didn’t find that too surprising. Pop Pop tended to hoard holiday treasures, considering the rest of their tree was plastered with every single homemade ornament brought home not only by his seven children, but by all twelve grandkids. The crazy, sweet part was, Pop Pop could recall who made every single ornament and when. Finn had remarked that next year they were going to have to get two trees to support Pop Pop’s collection.

  Lucas’s tree didn’t hold a single memory. Instead, it looked like something he might have ordered from some fancy department store. Something that came pre-lit, pre-decorated, pre-everything. It had simple white lights that didn’t blink. Actually, white appeared to be the only color on it.

  And once again, Caitlyn was glad she’d come. His Christmas had needed some good food, some color, some fun.

  “Cait?”

  She glanced up, surprised to find Lucas standing in front of her. How long had he been there?

  She gave him a crooked grin. “Sorry.”

  “You really are a fan of Christmas, aren’t you? Never seen anyone so mesmerized by a tree.”

  Caitlyn didn’t correct his mistaken observation. His tree was beautiful, but it actually made her feel sad. Then she spotted the box in his hand.

  Lucas noticed where her gaze had landed. “I know we both agreed it was too early in our,” he paused for just a split second, but it was long enough for her to notice, “relationship to buy each other gifts.”

  Relationship was a nice word.

  It made her feel a little bit too happy.

  As much as she wanted to hold back, to protect her heart, Caitlyn always tended to fail at that. Her heart made a bad habit of falling despite her better judgment. It was a total pain in the ass, a huge flaw in her genetic makeup. And there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to correct it.

  “What’s in the box?”

  He’d looked rather serious until her question, but then his smile grew. “You’re not the only one with some holiday spirit. I found these yesterday, and when I saw them…”

  Her curiosity was piqued, especially when Lucas made no move to open the box.

  “Stand up, Cait, and go to the window. Put your palms on it and spread your legs.”

  She shivered as she rose. Though they were way above the city, the building facing only water, there was something scandalous about standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling glass as if she were displaying herself for the world below.

  Regardless, she did exactly as he asked, turned on beyond belief. She watched Lucas move through the reflection in the window. He placed the small gift box on the coffee table.

  He hadn’t donned a shirt, and it occurred to her that typically he remained more dressed during their interludes. Probably because she had confided during their third date that there was something incredibly hot about standing naked in front of a fully dressed man.

  She’d have to revise that opinion. Because the truth was there was nothing hotter than Lucas without a shirt on.

  He stepped behind her and, now, as always, she was overwhelmed by the difference in their sizes. His broad shoulders and thick, muscular arms—no tats—reminded her of a giant grizzly bear. His size had been one of the first things she’d noticed about him. He was imposing, impressive, arresting—and he knew it.

  There was no question he could force her to do whatever he wanted. He was larger, stronger. However, he didn’t use physical force. He didn’t have to. All he had to do was give her a look or speak to her in that deep, rumbling voice and she bent to his will. Because it was her will too.

  Lucas ran a single finger along her side. She jerked in reaction to the sudden, soft touch. It almost tickled.

  “Nervous?” His tone told her he knew she was anything but.

  Even so, she had just enough Collins pride in her to look at him over her shoulder with a saucy grin. “Bring it,” she taunted.

  Lucas’s eyes narrowed. “Always trying to take the lead. You haven’t learned anything yet, have you?”

  He pressed a strong hand on her back, moving her toward the window until her breasts were pushed against the glass. Her nipples tightened, budded at the chill.

  “Eyes to the front. And no matter what I do, don’t take your hands off that glass. Do you understand?”

  She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  She had noticed Lucas’s response whenever she called him “sir.” It affected him as much as his deep-voiced commands spoke to her. She couldn’t deny that, in this, they were a perfect match.

  Lucas took advantage of her position, stroking his large hands over her sides, her hips, before caressing her ass. She was accustomed to stronger touches from him, so this gentleness knocked her off-kilter.

  Just as she was lulled into a state of relaxation, he changed the game, spanking her left ass cheek. Hard.

  She gasped, and then she groaned. She was seriously addicted to Lucas’s spankings. Sammy had taken her over his lap countless times, and never—not once—did he come close to evoking the sensations Lucas did.

  He pressed his chest against her back. Drawing her hair to one side, he kissed the side of her neck. She resisted the urge to close her eyes. Being able to watch what he was doing to her through their reflections was a show too hot to miss.

  She nearly lifted her hand from the glass, wanting desperately to reach behind her, to tuck her hands beneath the elastic of the lounge pants and touch his cock.

  Caitlyn caught herself just in time.

  “Good girl,” he murmured.

  How did he do that? How did he know what she was thinking?

  “I think you deserve a present.” Lucas stepped away, and she instantly missed the heat of his body close to hers.

  He opened the box directly behind her, so she couldn’t see what he had, and then he used one hand to tug her away from the window, moving her until there was about a foot between her and the glass. Her hands remained in place.

  Whatever he had was tiny enough for him to hold in the palm of his hand with three fingers, leaving his index finger and thumb free to pinch her nipple. He applied pressure until the breath she’d unwittingly been holding burst from her lungs loudly.

  “God.”

  She loved the pain. Lucas had discovered that early, and he had no problem using it against her. In delicious ways.

  He toyed with her nipples until they were rock hard. That
was when she felt the first clamp. It was spring-loaded and tight.

  “Breathe,” Lucas whispered as she fought to catch her breath. Then he attached the second clamp. The sting was brief and worth it. Her body began to hum, and she felt herself slipping away from the mental, focusing instead on only the physical.

  Each time she and Lucas were together, she found herself fading away for longer and longer. She’d spent the better part of an afternoon last week trying to understand what this feeling was. In truth, it felt like an out-of-body experience.

  Reason gave way to emotion. Thinking gave way to touch.

  In this, she was an animal. No guilt, no anxiety, no fear. She lived on instinct alone.

  A slight tinkling briefly brought her back to reality. She glanced at the clamps in the window, and laughed softly when Lucas wiggled his fingers over the jingle bells attached to the clamps.

  “And you thought I didn’t know how to do Christmas.”

  Caitlyn would have laughed, but Lucas didn’t give her the chance. There was one more bell.

  With one hand, Lucas parted her labia, snapping the last clamp onto her clit. It was the first time he’d ever used a clamp there.

  Caitlyn cried out, but the sting was short-lived, and with that final clamp, she was lost for good.

  Her vision, her sense of self, went hazy.

  Lucas bent her forward, running his fingers along her slit before slowly sliding two inside her. She was too wet, too ready. His fingers weren’t enough.

  Unfortunately, speaking was beyond her.

  At some point, Lucas dropped his pants, put on a condom and then, finally, they were making the music she loved. The bells on her clamps tinkled as he took her from behind, roughly, hard, fast.

  They rocked together. Caitlyn used her hands on the glass to give her purchase as she thrust back on his forward swings, adding to the intensity, the force.

  When she was on the brink of coming, Lucas reached around and took off the clit clamp.

  “Fuck me,” she cried out, her head falling forward, dangling as the blood rushed back. Her orgasm struck like lightning and continued, rolling and roaring and racing as he removed the other two clamps and kept pumping inside her.

 

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