by Jenn Sable
She nodded, tilted up on her toes, and pressed a kiss to my lips. “Hurry.”
*****
Melissa tried to unzip my overnight bag. “What’s in here?”
“No peeking,” I said and turned off the ignition to her Jeep and took hold of the bag before she could see my treasure trove.
She eyed my bag, curiously. “You’re no fun.”
I arched a brow and flashed her a half-smile. “Want to bet?”
Her eyes were glued to my mouth, and I knew that if we didn’t get out of the Jeep soon, we’d be in the back, steaming up the windows. “Come on, birthday girl, let’s move this party inside.
I unlocked the door as Melissa stood with her hands on her hips and studied her front door. “I think this year for Christmas, I’m going to go plain white lights and natural wreaths.”
“Oh yeah? What about the tree?”
She looked at me as if I grew two heads. “Natural, of course.”
“Knotty Pine Farm?”
“It’s the best. I wish you’d be here to go with me.”
I certainly hope so. “Oh yeah? What do you want for Christmas, just in case I am.”
She smirked and shook her head. “Oh no, I’m not entertaining fantasies tonight.”
I arched a brow. “No fantasies tonight?”
Her cheeks flooded with color. “I meant . . . you know what I meant. I’m not going to think about you being here for Christmas because I don’t like getting my hopes up for something that’s not going to happen.”
This girl wants me. Fuck. Yes.
I swung open the door and extended my arm. “After you, birthday girl.”
We unzipped coats and stepped out of shoes. I put my bag by the door, trying to give the pretense of a gentleman. I didn’t want to charge into the guest bedroom as though she didn’t have the choice to kick me out later. Although, I was one hundred percent sure that she wanted me there.
She hung our jackets on the coatrack. “So, it’s almost eleven o’clock. What do you want to do?”
My lips twitched. “Honestly?”
She nodded, but her eyes grew a fraction of an inch wider. “Yeah.”
“I want to pour you a glass of wine and pull you close to me. I don’t care if we snuggle on the couch, slow dance in your kitchen, make out in this foyer, or fall into your bed. I want to feel you against me.”
The smile that hinted at the corner of her lips was playful, but the spark of fire in her eyes was passionate.
“Honestly.”
She cleared her throat. “Okay, well, I’ve got a bottle of pinot already open in the fridge.”
“Lead the way.” I stalked after her down the hall to her kitchen and tried to quell the animalistic side of my manhood that just wanted to heave her over my shoulder, fireman-style, and lay her down on the nearest flat surface and have my way with her.
In the kitchen, she poured two glasses of white wine and handed me one. I drained half of it in a gulp. Normally, I was a beer man, but as soon as I got a taste of the fruity liquid, I longed to taste it on Melissa’s lips. Hell, I wanted to pour it down her naked body and lick it off.
I tried not to focus on the way her mouth lighted on the rim of her glass and how she gazed over it at me while she swallowed her wine. “So, what has kept you from dating a man all this time?”
Her eyes snapped up to mine, and she shrugged. “As you said earlier, I'm selective.”
“And what do you want in a man?”
She smiled and took another sip of wine. "I want a man who is kind and caring and courteous."
I crossed my arms, leaned against the kitchen counter, and looked at her from under my brows. "And?"
Melissa laughed, rolled her eyes, and took a longer sip of wine. "And is a leader, makes me feel safe, knows what he wants, says what he means."
Her throat worked to swallow her hesitancy. "And one who takes charge of a situation."
I pushed away from the counter. Melissa's startled doe eyes watched wordlessly as I took the wine glass from between her fingers and set it on the kitchen counter. "Someone who takes charge of the situation, huh?"
She nodded.
Our gazes fused as I swept my hand under the curtain of her dark locks and threaded my fingers through it. She quietly gasped when I tugged at the back of her hair and captured her lips with mine while my hand slowly smoothed over the softness of her waist, over her delicate ribcage, and cradled the underside of her heavy breast.
An involuntary moan tore from the back of her throat, and she shifted in my arms, giving me better access to her. I plunged my tongue into her wine-soaked mouth and felt dizzy with desire.
My hand rose and fell in accordance with her breathing, and my thumb slid farther up the side of her breast with each exhale.
She pulled away and stunned me by tugging her shirt up over her shoulders and cast it off to the side of the kitchen floor.
I cursed when I saw how her breasts strained against the fabric of her bra, and my hands immediately set about freeing her from the contraption. Her skin was silky smooth, and my hands nearly shook when I pulled the straps down her arms.
I'd envisioned this moment a million times in my fantasies ever since I was a young teenaged boy, but nothing could have prepared me for the heavenly sight of Melissa's globes falling free from the cups of her lingerie.
Her breasts peaked perfectly, fell and spread slightly, causing my brain to go offline. Their pillowy softness filled my hands, and I loved how Melissa got closer and cupped her hand over mine. Fuck, she's a goddess!
Her hoarse whisper was filled with need, "Clay, take me to bed."
I quickly cast off my shirt, so we were skin to skin, bent at the waist, and picked up Melissa like she was my bride. Just like I predicted, her eyes sparkled and grew wide with surprise. She circled her arms around my neck and relaxed against me.
Slanting through the room sideways with my half-naked goddess, I carefully laid her in the center of the bed. I stood back and stared at her smooth, creamy skin, her peaked nipples, and curvy waist and groaned when she reached to unzip her pants.
Leaning forward, I helped guide her jeans over her hips, down her shapely legs and off. Reaching into my pocket, I tossed a condom onto the nightstand and dropped my clothes to the floor. The feel of covering her naked body with mine melted my resolve.
Whispering against the graceful length of her neck, I rubbed my hand between the valley of Melissa's breasts, over the feminine curve of her stomach, and laid my hand above the waistband of her panties. "You're so beautiful, Melissa."
She squirmed and panted underneath my touch. "Clay."
"Do you need me to stop?" The last thing in the world I wanted to do was to move too fast for her. However, the intoxicating scent of her skin and the low moans that escaped the back of her throat were fast eroding my willpower.
Her voice strained with barely contained desire. "I want you to start."
My mind went quiet, and my hands moved to strip away the last layers of fabric that separated us. The apex of Melissa's thighs was wet with need as my fingers coaxed open her sex.
I growled when Melissa's hand wrapped around my swollen shaft. "Please, Clay. I can't wait. Not any longer. I need you."
I pulled away, just long enough to reach for the condom on the nightstand. Tearing open the wrapper with my teeth, I rolled the thin latex over my painfully hard shaft.
Melissa opened herself to me, spreading her arms and sweet thighs. The sight was too much for me to handle. I could no longer go slow or hold myself back. I positioned my body between thighs and pressed against her slick opening. Melissa's legs wrapped around my waist, and I buried myself one inch at a time until I was fully sheathed.
Sounds of our lovemaking filled the room. Melissa's low moans, the gentle slap of our bodies joining, my hard breathing, and muttered curses when she bucked her hips against me. I thrust faster, and my muscles knotted.
I gritted my teeth and cursed softly. "Mel,
when you buck your hips like that, it makes me want to come."
Her head pushed back against the pillow, and her dark, fiery eyes connected with mine. She looked wanton and lovely and beautiful at the same time. "Come for me, Clay. I need to feel it."
I cursed. "No, not yet. I’ll go too hard."
She swallowed. "That's what I want."
I growled, and her lips curled into a sexy smile. My hips ground down and pumped between her thighs faster and harder.
Her nails dug into my sides. "Yes. Yes, like that. Clay. I need it."
I drove into her at heat without mercy until she whimpered my name, and I felt the strong contractions of her walls closing around my shaft. With three more pulse-pounding thrusts, I gave into the blinding pleasure and spilled into oblivion.
Breathing hard, I collapsed into the waiting warmth of Melissa's arms. We laid like that for several minutes, both of us slowly working our way back down to Earth from our explosive orgasm. My lips curved into a grin when her hands traveled the length of my spine. Her eyes were misted with desire and satisfaction when I pulled my head up to gaze down at her.
She giggled and kissed my forehead. “What are you thinking?”
I answered honestly. “I want to stay like this with you forever.”
Before she responded, sadness flitted through her eyes, and she quickly wiped away any gathering mist that threatened to fall as tears. “Me too.”
Chapter 7 – Melissa
“Hey, you guys!”
I cracked one eyelid open and glared at my cell phone on the nightstand.
“Hey, you guys!”
The smell of coffee and the sound of Clay’s warm chuckle made me roll over and peek out into the hallway. Clay walked into the guestroom, carrying two cups of coffee. “Sounds like the birthday girl is getting some celebratory texts this morning.”
“It certainly sounds that way. What time is it? Seven o’clock?”
Clay handed me a steaming cup of coffee and kissed the top of my forehead. “Eleven thirty. Happy birthday, Mel.”
I sat up and pulled the sheet up over my breasts. “Thank you. Eleven thirty in the morning? As in, almost noon?”
Clay quirked a smile. "That's the one. You're my little sleepy head."
“Oh my God, I haven’t slept in that late since . . . I don’t know, since college?”
I leaned against the padded headboard.
“Hey, you guys!”
Tess’s name scrawled across the top of my cell, and I set it aside, favoring my steaming cup of coffee and the spectacular view of Clay in pajama pants and nothing else.
He sat in a cushioned chair near the bed and stretched out his long legs, propping his crossed feet on the side of the bed, and sipped his coffee. I tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear as he studied me with his penetrating eyes over the rim of his mug.
“There's room beside me if you want to sit over here. We can have coffee in bed.” I gave him a sexy smile. “How decadent."
His eyes smoldered, but he shook his head. "If I get into that bed with you, I'll make love to you again. You wouldn't be able to drink your coffee."
My cheeks heated, and my mouth fell open and formed a small O. "I see."
He smiled like a wolf and continued to trace my form with his silver eyes while he sipped his coffee.
"Sorry I slept in so late. What time did you wake up?"
He shrugged his shoulders. “I'm used to waking up early, but I laid in bed for a while with you. It was nice."
Butterflies stirred in my stomach, thinking about Clay watching me sleep. "Once you got up, what did you do?"
"I left you something in the kitchen to find as a surprise later."
Alarm bells blared in the back of my mind, but my heartbeats drowned them out. I was falling for Clay fast and headed directly for a heartbreak. I had to remind myself of exactly what this was, a holiday fling, a one-night stand that was now over.
I cleared my throat. "Well, it's official; I had a one-night stand in my twenties. Um, thanks?"
"Sorry, love, but no, you didn’t. We made love after midnight."
Why does he keep referring to last night's sex as making love? And why does he keep looking at me as though he can see right through the blanket?
“It’s close enough for me to count. I wanted to cross off at least one thing from that list, so I don’t feel like I wasted an entire decade.”
His eyes turned a shade darker and a frown line etched between them. “You didn’t waste your twenties, Melissa. You lived your life, and it made you who you are today. I happened to be captivated by the woman you’ve become. And it doesn’t count as a one-night stand because that implies that we’d never do it again.”
I swallowed. “So, you want . . . more?”
Sparks of silver flashed like a lightning storm in his gray eyes. “I do. I want to make love to you again, dance with you again, I want to spend more time with you. Do you want those things with me?”
My whole body vibrated with awareness, and my mind spun. It was an exhilarating experience to be wanted by Clay. His eyes were intense, and I melted over the way he was so straightforward about what he wanted. I licked my lips, and although it was almost imperceptible, Clay tightened his fingers around the handle of his mug.
“I do.”
Without taking his eyes off of me, Clay stood, stretching his six-foot body of smooth skin and taut muscle. My eyes licked over his torso, over his toned abs, and sat transfixed where hips bones dipped below his pajama pants.
“Do you like what you see, birthday girl?” I could hear the smile in his voice.
I slowly nodded, hating the blush that crept up my neck and settled high on my cheeks. “Yeah. Do you?”
Desire flashed across his features. “I love it. Watching you sit in bed, naked with a sheet wrapped around your curves with a valley of your breasts peeking out of the top of the blanket, is making my inner animal start to prowl. I want nothing more than to peel back the layer of that sheet, but I can’t.”
My brow line wrinkled. “You can’t?”
He looked almost pained. “No, I have to go. But can I take you out to dinner tonight?”
I pressed my lips together to help suppress the giddy, toothy grin that desperately wanted out. “I’d love that.”
Clay walked around the side of the bed and leaned over, bracing an arm on either side of me, effectively capturing me against the headboard. His eyes sparkled, and he sweetly nuzzled the tip of his nose over mine before brushing a soft kiss over my lips. “Pick you up at seven?”
I nodded. “Yeah, that’s perfect.”
A half-smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “All right, birthday girl. See you at seven.” He pulled away and turned to go.
"Wait, where are we going?"
"It's a surprise." He winked and walked away.
Clay had just started to leave when Tess pulled in. She gave him a happy-go-lucky wave, then turned toward the house and silently mouthed, “Oh my God,” and stormed inside.
“Melissa Monroe! Oh, my God. Clay just walked out of your house in pajama bottoms. I want the details. All the details!"
I quickly launched myself out of bed and scrambled for my robe in my master bedroom. My mouth nearly hit the floor when I saw all the moving boxes that needed to be stashed upstairs had been moved.
Clay must have moved the boxes this morning. Holy shit, one night of good sex after a long drought must've made me sleep like the dead. I thought he said he left something in the kitchen?
Tess poked her head into the room and smiled mischievously, as though she had just caught me with my hand in the cookie jar. Act casual. "Hey, Tess. How is it going?"
She immediately crossed her arms and tapped her foot. "There is no way that you were going to pretend like something epic didn't just go down last night!"
"Oh, yeah, Clay ended up spending the night."
Tessa's eyes glittered. "I see that. I also see a sheet lying on the floor, half in t
he hall and a half in your bedroom. I'm also pretty sure that you're not wearing anything underneath that robe."
I dropped the act. 'We had sex last night."
Tess squealed happily and clapped her hands. "Oh my God, I knew it! You look great like you just had the best night's sleep of your life."
I nodded. "I think I did."
Tess pointed down the hallway. "Get ready and meet me in the kitchen for pancakes. I brought all the fixings!"
Twenty minutes later, I stepped into the kitchen, running my fingers through my wet hair and unsuccessfully tried to tame the wide grin on my face.
Tess slid some pancakes, fresh off the griddle, onto a baking sheet heaped with pancakes, and popped them into the oven to stay warm.
I shook my head and marveled at her fine-tuned domestic skills. "You're going to make a great mom one day."
Tess crossed her fingers and sent a prayer up to heaven that it would come true. "You have no idea what it’s like for an Italian gal to be single this long.”
I gave her an arched look, and she busted out laughing.
“You’re not Italian, so the rules don’t apply. Here, this is for you." She handed me a mimosa.
"Fresh-squeezed orange juice? Fancy, thank you." I sipped the fizzy drink.
Tess arched her brow. "I didn't bring it; I found it in the refrigerator beside a bottle of champagne. Did Clay leave this for you?" She bit the undersides of her lips, and her face scrunched up like it usually did when she saw a puppy or a kitten. "You two are going to get married and have babies."
I laughed out loud and nearly spilled my mimosa. "No, he’s going to fly away in a few days and spend Thanksgiving and Christmas with his family in Scotland then return to Alaska.”
Tess frowned. “We can’t let that happen.
I inhaled and shrugged helplessly. “We are going to dinner tonight, though.”
Tess nodded. "What time?"
"Seven."
"Perfect, that's just enough time to eat pancakes and go shopping for a new dress. Tonight, you're going to look drop-dead gorgeous."