Caribbean Christmas

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Caribbean Christmas Page 8

by Jenna Bayley-Burke


  Chapter Fourteen

  Leaves rustled as the wind carried the scent of ocean and hibiscus through his open window. Joe didn’t have to check the clock to know dawn approached. He could feel it in the air, dread tightening his shoulders. Only a few precious hours of his time alone with Saskia remained.

  The faint glow of a sailor’s moon cast shadows through his bedroom. Her pale skin seemed to glow on his dark sheets, her bare body lying spent beside him. He really should let her sleep. He’d woken her once already.

  He’d drifted off after making love to her both times, and yet his mind wouldn’t allow him to waste a second of this fleeting time. He’d never been this desperate for anyone, for anything. He turned to his side and reached out to run his hand across the soft skin of her long back.

  The contact calmed him as he learned the strength of the toned muscles beneath such silken skin. In the stillness, he heard his roughened hands as they mapped her body and paused. He shouldn’t wake her.

  “Don’t stop now.” Her pillow muffled her sleep-roughened voice. “I usually can’t stay still long enough for a massage, but you seem to have the right touch.”

  “You’re sleeping.” The devil on his shoulder was a greedy bastard, urging his hand to move down her body to the firm mounds of her ass.

  She gave that little mew deep in her throat that drove him wild. “I’m up if you are.”

  He edged his way closer and pushed her hair aside so he could whisper in her ear. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “I’ll take orgasm for two hundred, Alex.” She snuggled her face deeper into the pillow.

  “You’re a fan of trivia shows?” He smoothed the rest of her hair to the side, exposing her neck and shoulders.

  “I’m a vault of useless information. Anytime you want to hustle trivia night at a bar, I’m your girl.”

  He propped himself up on one elbow, using his other hand to caress her back in long strokes. “You’re already my girl.”

  She giggled, the sound vibrating his fingers. “If you like it then you should put a ring on it.” She wiggled her ass in true Beyoncé style.

  What if I did? The question died on his lips. He knew she wouldn’t respond the way he wanted her to. And like Harm said, he had nowhere to run to escape his failure this time. No, things had to work with Saskia, even if he had to let her control the timeline.

  He didn’t have to let her control anything now. He sat up and moved over her, straddling her legs. He placed a hand on either side of her spine and eased his weight onto her back until she moaned.

  “Too hard?”

  “Up a little. I get tense between my shoulder blades when I crochet too much.”

  He obliged, sliding each hand up. He held the pressure until he felt the tightness release beneath his palms. He started to rub her back, working his way toward her shoulders. He moved her limp arms from beneath the pillow and laid them at her side. She tickled his thighs as he leaned up to knead the stress from her shoulders.

  “Does this backrub come with a happy ending?” Her tickling turned to playful scratching.

  “I have half a mind to tie your hands to my bed and keep you here.” He lowered his body atop hers, pressing her into the mattress.

  “That might work if you didn’t live with my dad.”

  He smoothed her hair to one side as he kissed his way from her ear to the back of her neck. She shuddered as he kissed her there, using his lips and tongue to massage her more sensually than his hands ever could.

  Placing his hands on either side of her, he eased off enough so that he could slide down her body, kissing his way down her back. She lifted her hips, her legs parting in invitation.

  He gripped the muscled globes of her ass and she rocked back into his hands. She raised her hips and pressed her knees into the bed, offering herself to him. His heart hammered, his dick begging for another chance at her wild ride.

  He needed her like he needed to breathe, but he didn’t want to be some holiday story she told her friends. He yearned for her to stay, right here, with him. He craved it so desperately his mouth opened to utter the damning words.

  But he bit them back and reached for a condom instead. Her dreams were coming true in New York. She couldn’t change her plans just because his hinged on her returning to Anguilla. He had to trust she’d realize what was happening between them was beyond anything she’d ever find elsewhere. Too bad he didn’t do trust well, not anymore.

  He filed the sadness away, the woman in his bed demanding his attention with her catlike stretching and gentle mews. He squeezed her ass again, then trailed his thumbs toward her dewy center. He’d pour himself into her, fill her with his hopes and love and bind her to him.

  She pushed back, taking his thumb into her and squeezing her inner muscles with a sigh. Maybe she was doing the same thing, leaving a mark on his soul as permanent as a tattoo. He could only hope as he pushed his thumb into her slick core, his fingers playing her wet folds until she set a rhythm against his hand.

  He released her and rose up to his knees. He pulled her hips up and buried himself in her. Their moans blended in erotic harmony as he sank and rose, the slapping of their skin setting a staccato beat. She rocked back into him, meeting him thrust for thrust.

  They raced together towards orgasm, sweat coating their bodies as he rocked into her and heating the air until he wondered if they might start to steam. So hot, they’d melt together as one. Joined. Fused. Unbreakable.

  She clawed at the sheets, her cries coming faster and rougher as her rhythm faltered. She collapsed to the mattress, her body quaking as he kept his hold on her hips. Her inner muscles gripped and milked him, nearly taking him over the edge with her.

  Sweat slicked his hands and she slipped from his grasp, her body limp against his bed, his cock free and throbbing with unspent release in the night air. He shucked off the condom and pumped into his own fist. Time spun, shrank down to that moment, that bed, where everything was perfect. Everything else faded because nothing else mattered. In three strokes, he erupted, spilling himself across her back.

  On instinct, he worked the sticky wetness into her skin, his cock twitching at the idea of her wearing him on her body.

  “Sass, wake up. Your dad just landed.” Johannes peppered her face with soft kisses as consciousness crept in to her slumber. She’d been in the most amazing dream where he’d been—

  “Schatje, I know you’re worn out but he’s bringing the boat in right now. That was Buddy on the phone.”

  She opened one eye and swallowed. Did he just say—

  She sat in the bed so fast she nearly took his head off. “But he’s not supposed to be here until this afternoon. I haven’t baked anything yet.”

  “Apparently, it’s noon. You should take a shower.” Joe stood and walked into the bathroom, turning on the shower they’d explored sometime last night.

  “What? I don’t have time if he’s already here.” She stood, suddenly feeling strange about her nakedness.

  Joe wrapped his arms around her, covering her body with his own. “Schatje, I don’t mind. But we both smell like sex. That’s not really how I want your dad to find out about us. If you even want him to find out about us.”

  She looked up at him, her stomach clenching as a wave of nausea struck. “I don’t know.”

  “That’s okay. We’ll tell him when you come back.”

  She nodded and closed her eyes. “Thank you.”

  “You shower first. I’ll take my turn while you are getting dressed. We want him surprised, not mortified.”

  “Right.” She nodded and looked up at him, wishing they’d had more time.

  “Saskia, he’s going to love your Christmas surprise, speculaas poppen or not.”

  His phone rang before she could tell him it wasn’t the surprise that had her so anxious. Using the same shower where he’d made love to her so thoroughly just hours before didn’t help matters either. She had this monumental decision to make and she w
asn’t ready. Leaving now would be like ripping her soul open, but staying would be turning her back on everything she’d spent years building.

  Turning her face into the warm spray of water, she let the tears flow, just for a moment. Just to release enough so she could put on a happy face and make the Christmas memory with her father she’d been craving since she left Anguilla the first time.

  Leaving her father then had felt like the end of the world. And so did this.

  “Ready? He’s inside.” Joe helped Saskia down from the truck and guided her to the porch of the shop. Dutch’s voice rang out as he told an animated story about his latest adventure. “Don’t be nervous, it’s just your dad.”

  She nodded and he walked ahead of her through the open door. “Dutch, my man, welcome home.” He greeted the older man with a back-slapping hug, held on a beat longer than usual. Though Dutch didn’t know it, their relationship was forever changed.

  “Boy, you should have been there. This octopus was—”

  Joe clapped him on the shoulder and winked at Buddy and Ronald. “In a minute, Dutch. Something came for you while you were gone.”

  “It can wait. This octopus—”

  “She’s been waiting for you.”

  Saskia stepped through the door, her deep red hair caught up in a braid over one shoulder. The warm pink of her silk camisole brought out the beauty of her freckled skin. “Merry Christmas, Daddy.”

  Dutch turned and stared through her for a moment, as if he worried he’d seen a mirage. Then he pulled in a breath and raced towards her. “Mijn kindje.”

  He lifted Sass in his beefy arms and spun her around as she laughed. He spoke in Dutch, she answered in English, and they both wiped tears from their eyes.

  Joe walked out the back, leaving them to have their moment. Saskia had come to reconnect with her father, not with him. He respected them both too much to interfere. They’d both tell him to stay, and he would, and none of it would keep her from heading back to Florida in two days.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Saskia linked her arm into her father’s as the crowd of children counted down. She chanted the numbers as loudly as she had when she’d been holding the hands of her schoolmates. The lights switched on, illuminating the buildings and trees in the Christmas village. The children sang out and danced, knowing that Christmas Eve was their last chance to enjoy the display until next year.

  “It’s so much more elaborate now.” She leaned close so Dutch could hear her over the fray.

  “The Christmas village gets bigger every year. Tourists want to see displays like they do at home, and you know how we Anguillans are. We want everyone to be happy here.” He shrugged and walked them towards the line of market tents.

  “Do you consider yourself Anguillan? I always think of you as Dutch.”

  “It’s my name, and I am proud that I came from Holland, but Anguilla is my home. And yours. You’re a native.” He reached over and tweaked her nose like he’d done when she was a child.

  She grinned, starting to laugh as he stopped at a booth offering up the most pathetic-looking pine twigs planted in buckets of sand. “In the States, these are what we call Charlie Brown trees.”

  “If I’d have known you were coming, I would have ordered a tree for you.”

  “That would have ruined my surprise. The look on your face was priceless. Well worth doing without a tree for the holiday.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t have any decorations for the house at all.”

  She nodded and started them down the row, her gaze catching on a table of used books. With import taxes so high, nearly every paperback came in second hand. The country needed the tourism dollars from the Estate so they could ease off taxes on their citizens. She bought books new, and on impulse. Sometimes a dozen at a time. A habit she’d never fully appreciated until now.

  “Dad, I want to invest in the Estate. We haven’t seen much money from the initial contract yet, but it’s coming.”

  He dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. “You build your business first, then worry about investments. If you overextend yourself, there is nothing to give from later.”

  “This isn’t make-your-rent kind of money. It’s buy-a-house money. I need to invest in something.”

  “So buy a house. The Estate hasn’t sold all the condos available. If you want to contribute, do it that way until you’re more stable.” He stopped at a stall offering woven baskets, but didn’t seem to see them.

  “I can afford to do more. Really.” He didn’t seem to hear her as he moved to the next booth teeming with handcrafted sea-glass jewelry.

  “Meisje, please. Trust an old man on this. Never invest more than you can afford to lose.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” A steel drum rendition of “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer” floated through the air. Her mind slipped back to her first holiday in Florida and how sad she’d been that the Christmas music had sounded so produced. She’d felt like such a freak those first years, begging her mother to let them return home.

  It had gotten easier as she’d made friends, but there had always been a part of her that longed to be here, embraced by warm sea air, laughter and the savory smoke of barbeque flirting with the sweet perfume of flowers.

  “Fathers aren’t always right, meisje. I’ve invested everything into the Estate. I have more of a stake in its success than anyone.”

  “I guess you think our family has put enough into it. I see that.”

  Her father cleared his throat as if he meant to say more, but her attentions slipped away as Johannes and Harm sauntered into view. She really ought to take a picture of them, because Holly wasn’t going to buy how great they looked. Too bad Harm’s personality made his masculine beauty a complete waste.

  Johannes looked so tempting in just red board shorts and sandals, she wished they were alone. His pale blue gaze locked on to hers, drawing her in with such confidence, such transparent desire her knees threatened to give in. Heat flushed her skin, her pulse raced and her stomach tightened, trying to hold back the yearning for him. Apparently, two days was long enough for her body to crave him.

  “Boys!” Her father waved and started walking towards them.

  Sass had a moment of sheer panic. She’d never had to deal with her father and a lover before. And now, there was so much at stake for them both, she didn’t want to drop any bombshells and have relationships scattering like sand in the wind. With the attraction between them so palpable, how would she be able to hide it from her father?

  “Vrolijk kertsfeest,” Dutch called out as they neared, giving both men back-slapping hugs before taking her hand. “Thank you boys so much for looking after my girl.”

  Harm coughed into his hand and looked away with a grin. Smart ass.

  Dutch clapped Johannes on the shoulder. “You should come back to the house. You both should.”

  “This is your time with Saskia. I don’t want to get in the middle of that. Besides, Harm has put me to work at his latest villa. With everyone working so much for the high season, he’s gotten behind schedule.”

  Harm narrowed his dark eyes at his brother. “My schedule is just fine. You’re the one who stayed up tiling the kitchen instead of sleeping like a sane person.”

  “You boys are family,” Dutch said. “You can’t get in the way.”

  Harm’s obnoxious cough returned. If she weren’t wearing sandals she might kick him.

  “Dutch, enjoy this visit.” Joe turned his cool gaze on her. “If Saskia decides to come back, maybe then we’ll all spend time together.”

  Harm barked a laugh. “Yeah, just like old times.”

  Saskia put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Yeah, except a few things have changed since you used to think it was your place to order me around.”

  “Just a few,” he replied without a glint of humor. Such a jerk.

  Dutch chuckled. “You two always did like to snap at one another. Did you make Joe spend the entire time keeping
the two of you apart?”

  “Something like that.” Harm shook his head, his dark hair falling over his eyes. “Hannes, I see those dance teachers from earlier. I’m going to go talk them into having dinner with us.” He cast her a dirty look and strode off towards the market stalls.

  She wanted to feel better that he’d finally left, but there was a gnawing dread in her stomach that Johannes would be having dinner with another woman. It felt as if she had a right to be angry, but she knew she didn’t. Still, she thought he was a better man than that. Wasn’t he? Had she imagined how special things felt with him, or did he make everyone he liked seeing in a bikini feel that way?

  “You boys have your fun, but I expect you tomorrow for Christmas dinner. No excuses.”

  Johannes smiled and nodded, his gaze trained on her father. She needed him to look her way, to give her some kind of clue as to what was going on.

  She cleared her throat. “You could have dinner with us. I’m sure you’ve had enough of dealing with your bother of a brother and could use a break.”

  He turned, his pale blue eyes twinkling in the waning light. He held her with his gaze, understanding and attraction relaxing her fears and tightening her desire.

  “You’ve been away so long your dad shouldn’t have to share you. Besides, we already had a chance to catch up. When you come back, we’ll do it again.” He winked at her then turned back to Dutch. “We’ll see you for dinner tomorrow.”

  She watched him walk across the patchy lawn, making his way to his brute of a sibling and a trio of top-heavy blondes. She’d need the trust of a trapeze artist to make it through the next few months until she could return to the island.

  “Merry Christmas!” Dutch announced, pulling open the door for Harm and Johannes.

  Her heartbeat stuttered as she caught his pale blue gaze. He hadn’t been home, telling Dutch he wanted to give them space. And she’d let him stay away.

 

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