JACK'S CHRISTMAS MISSION

by Beverly Barton

  "What now?" he asked as he came over to her.

  "You're asking me?" She made herself look at him. "You're the one with all the experience, the one who carries a—" She just then noticed the box of condoms he held in his hand. "That's a whole box of condoms."

  He grinned sheepishly. "You never know, we might need more than one."

  More than one! Did he mean that he planned to make love to her more than once? Of course that's what he meant. She let out a long, low sigh, not realizing until that moment that she'd been holding her breath.

  "Jack, I'm having second thoughts about this," she said. "I shouldn't be doing this, not with Hetty and Wendy in the house."

  "They'll never know."

  "And you and I just met a few days ago."

  "What better way to get to know each other," he countered.

  "I haven't had sex since … not in a long time. And when I had sex, I didn't like it all that much."

  "You'll like it with me."

  That's what she was afraid of. More than anything else. More than revealing her naked body. More than compromising her principles. More than taking a chance Hetty might suspect what was going on. She was terrified that she might like sex with Jack. She already had feelings for him. Strong feelings that she couldn't control. If the sex was good … ah, damn!

  Jack held out his hand, and for just a minute she thought he was going to grab her. But instead he beckoned to her as he backed up toward the bed. When he sprawled out in the middle of the bed, he wiggled his index finger in a come-to-me gesture.

  With a courage born of desire, Peggy Jo grabbed either side of her gown and lifted it up and over her head. She closed her eyes and prayed that Jack would like what he saw, that she hadn't been wrong to put her trust in this man. She had never been this exposed, this vulnerable with a man since her divorce. But this man wasn't Buck. He was Jack. And Jack was a good man.

  Jacky-boy, you'd better say and do all the right things, he cautioned himself, as his gaze slowly scanned Peggy Jo's body. His sex grew harder and heavier in response to the visual stimulation of her nakedness. She was round and voluptuous. Womanly. And beautiful. Very beautiful.

  "Disappointed?" she asked defensively.

  "Darling, I'm practically speechless."

  "Oh?"

  "Looking at you makes me glad I'm a man."

  "Mmm…"

  "Peggy Jo, you take my breath away you're so beautiful."

  Tears glistened in her eyes. Her round, firm breasts rose and fell with her labored breaths. She all but ran to him, then hesitated for one, long, heart-stopping moment. He grabbed her arm and pulled her down into the bed with him.

  Jack was determined to make it right for her. To show her how good it could be between a man and a woman.

  * * *

  Chapter 11

  « ^ »

  Peggy Jo knew that she'd probably regret what she was doing. Later. In the morning. In the harsh light of day when reality returned. But this was now, in the moment, and her mind wasn't in charge. Her body was. And her body yearned for Jack, demanded his touch, longed to become one with him. All the reasons she shouldn't be doing this didn't seem important. She was thirty-four years old, and this was the first time in her life that she'd ever wanted a man with such desperate passion. She didn't know what to say or do. Confusion threatened to dampen her ardor. During sex, Buck had wanted her to lie still and keep quiet until he finished. Only when he was beating her did he want a response.

  Seeming to sense her uncertainty and sudden reluctance, Jack took charge. He removed a condom from the box and ripped open the individual packet. Peggy Jo watched in fascination as he prepared himself for their lovemaking. For a split second she allowed the sight of his overwhelming masculinity to intimidate her. Easing himself up on one elbow and cradling his head with his open palm, he reached out, lifted a long lock of hair from her chest and placed it over her shoulder. His hands were huge, his fingertips slightly rough. But there was such gentleness in his touch that she trusted him not to hurt her.

  She looked up at him and smiled. "I want it to be good, Jack. Please. It was never—"

  He silenced her with a kiss. Tender at first. Warm and soft and sweet. She became so involved with the kiss that she barely noticed he was caressing her shoulder. But when his tongue sought entrance into her mouth, he skimmed his hand down to her elbow and his arm that draped across her body raked over her breasts. She gasped. The sensation shot through her as if she'd touched a live wire. He ravaged her mouth. She lifted one arm up and around his neck, then grabbed his biceps with her other hand. His arm bulged with steely muscles. Hard. Strong. Powerful.

  When his fingertips danced between her breasts and down over her belly, she whimpered. Her nipples peaked with aching awareness. Touch me there, she wanted to scream. But his hand moved south, covering her stomach, smoothing over first one hip and then the other before easing down her right thigh and back up the left. Her feminine core throbbed, and a gush of moisture flooded the area between her legs.

  Her hand tightened around his upper arm, her nails biting into his skin. She lifted her hips, seeking his hand. He forked his fingers through the triangle of curls as he shoved his other hand beneath her head to bring her mouth closer to his in a crushing kiss that robbed her of breath and all coherent thought. Feelings took over completely, and she became totally body conscious, aware of new and incredibly pleasurable sensations. Being with Jack seemed oddly familiar, as if this wasn't the first time for them, as if they had been together before. Many times. Maybe that was the reason it seemed so right. His body didn't seem like a stranger to hers.

  They responded to each other with equal passion, neither the aggressor. Or perhaps both were aggressors. While the kiss continued, he familiarized himself with her body, but with the utmost tenderness. His ragged breathing, his flushed face and sweat-dampened flesh revealed to her that he was holding back, at a great sacrifice to himself. And that fact alone made her want him all the more.

  Suddenly she realized that she wanted more than his gentleness, more than his restrained touches. She wanted Jack Parker unleashed, unbound and free to take her with the need that seemed to be tearing him apart inside. Her own hunger had driven her to the point of near madness. For only madness could have erased the haunting memories from her past and liberated her so completely.

  With boldness born of passion, she shoved him onto his back and came down over him, straddling his hips. When she bent down and licked his tiny nipples, he groaned and reached up to thread his fingers through her hair. But she escaped his clutches as she moved downward, her fingertips gliding over his chest and belly. When she reached his sex, she lifted her head and smiled at him before raking a fingernail ever so gently from tip to shaft. Jack tensed. His erection jerked involuntarily. She encompassed him with her hand and pumped him slowly, carefully.

  "Ah, darling, I'll give you to the count of a million to stop that."

  She continued to caress him, loving the feel of his strength in her hand, but within minutes he halted her.

  "I'm only up to a thousand and five," she said.

  "Screw counting." His voice was ragged, indicating he was on the verge of losing control. "I can't wait any longer."

  "About time," she told him and eagerly participated when he lifted her and brought her down over his sex. She adjusted her hips, situating herself to accept him. He rammed up and into her with a force that rocked her to the core. No half measures. No slowly easing into her. When he took her, he took her completely, burying himself deeply inside her.

  Her moisture cushioned him, and her body stretched to accommodate his size. Peggy Jo had never felt as complete, as whole, as she did at that very moment. She loved the feel of Jack inside her. Every fiber of her being reacted favorably to his possession.

  And then he began to move. She gasped when he lifted her up and down, forcing her body to absorb the friction. With one hand on her hip, caressing softly, he guided her into action,
and within minutes she set the pace. While she rode him, he concentrated on her breasts. The moment his mouth encompassed one tight nipple and sucked, her body exploded with release. Fast and furious. And unexpected. It happened so quickly, she hadn't had time to prepare herself. She went wild, riding him frantically, draining every last ounce of satisfaction from the moment. Then she went limp on top of him, her energy spent. He soothed her. Rubbed her back. Kissed her temple. Whispered her name.

  And then he flipped her over onto her back and hammered into her. His big hands brought her hips upward to meet each hard, demanding lunge. She felt him tense, heard the harshness of his breath, saw the strain on his face. Realizing she had brought him to this point, her sheath clenched tightly and when he drove into her again, he groaned as if in pain. The power of his release racked his body with intense shudders.

  He collapsed on top of her, big, hot and sweaty. But his weight was a delicious burden. She wrapped her arms around him and nuzzled his neck. A low, satisfied moan hummed from his throat. Without saying a word, he rolled off her, then pulled her to his side, cradling her in his arms.

  They lay there, neither speaking for endless moments. She wondered if he was as astonished by what had happened between them as she was. Had it been as extraordinary an experience for him as it had been for her or was sex always such an overwhelming event for him? When the cool night air chilled her, she remembered that she was naked. As if he had read her mind, Jack grasped the edge of the sheet and blanket which lay at the foot of the bed and dragged the covers up and over them.

  "Are you all right?" he asked.

  "Mmm-hmm." She didn't want to talk. All she wanted was to lie in his arms and have the moment last forever.

  He lifted his head, folded his arm beneath his neck and looked at her. "We're pretty good together, aren't we, darling?"

  "Unbelievably good."

  "It had been a long time for you, hadn't it?"

  "Since I'd had sex? Yes." She wished he wouldn't talk, wouldn't analyze what had happened between them. Reality was fast encroaching on this surreal affair. "And it was never like that before, never fulfilling for me."

  "Peggy Jo—"

  She pressed her hand over his mouth. "No, don't. You mustn't tell me that it was special for you, that it had never been that good for you either. I know that's not true."

  "You don't know anything if you think this wasn't different for me, too."

  She shoved away from him and scooted off the bed. He reached out to grab her hand, but she slipped away. Before he could get out of bed, she had picked up her gown and pulled it over her head. As she reached down on the floor for her robe, he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

  "What's the matter, Peggy Jo, can't you stand to hear the truth?" He rubbed his beard-stubbled jaw against her smooth cheek. "We've got chemistry, darling. The kind that sets the sheets on fire. You don't get that with just anybody."

  "Jack, please."

  "I thought I'd already done that," he teased. "Pleased you. I know for a fact that you sure did please me." He turned her around to face him.

  "I'm glad you liked it, too," she said.

  "Liked it? I loved it. Didn't you?"

  "You know I did, but—"

  "What's wrong?" he asked. "You're not having regrets already, are you?"

  "No. No regrets."

  "Then, what is it?"

  "This was just sex. That's all." She paused, giving him time to deny her statement, to jump right in and tell her that it had been more than sex for him, as it had been for her. When he didn't speak, she continued. "We were hot for each other. We were curious what it would be like if we made … if we had sex. Now we know. Curiosity satisfied." She inhaled deeply, then released her breath slowly. "So, that's the end of it. We defused the time bomb ticking between us."

  When she tried to pull away from him, he held her all the tighter. "We didn't defuse the bomb. We let it explode."

  "Okay, so we let it explode. Same thing. We did it. It's over with. We can move on."

  "Ah, I see."

  He loosened his hold on her enough that she easily escaped from him. She walked across the room but paused at the closed door and glanced over her shoulder.

  "I need to get back to my room."

  Ask me to stay. Tell me you want to hold me in your arms all night. I'll have to refuse you, but please, ask me, anyway.

  "Yeah, sure. Go."

  "Okay." Her hand hovered over the doorknob. "I … I feel as if I should say thank you."

  "You already did, darling," he told her. "In every way that matters."

  Heat rose up her neck and flushed her face. "I'll see you in the morning."

  He grinned, but it wasn't that cocky, flirtatious grin she had become so accustomed to. It was a soft, almost sad grin.

  Peggy Jo forced herself to open the door and leave his room. Once outside, she tiptoed across the hall to her own bedroom. With each step she took, she prayed she wouldn't turn around and run straight back into Jack's arms.

  * * *

  He stood in his open doorway and watched her until she disappeared inside her bedroom. It took every ounce of his willpower not to go after her and drag her back into his bed. With most women, it didn't matter to him whether or not they spent the night in his arms. But Peggy Jo was different. He couldn't think of anything he'd like better than to hold her close till morning. Already he was thinking about making love to her again. But she had told him in no uncertain terms that once had been enough.

  Go to bed, he told himself. Get some sleep. And put on your damn pajamas!

  After slipping into the pajama bottoms, he flopped in the middle of the bed, on top of the tangled sheets. He could smell Peggy Jo's unique scent. He ran his hand over the pillow where she'd rested her head.

  Jacky-boy, you underestimated the lady and overestimated yourself. He had thought he could pleasure her and find release for his own sexual tension without becoming emotionally involved. He had done it so many times before, he'd thought it would be easy. But he hadn't counted on how responsive she would be, how completely she'd fall apart in his arms. And he sure as hell had no idea that one taste of her wouldn't be enough to satisfy him. It hadn't been ten minutes since he had her and he already wanted her again.

  The way he saw it, he had two choices. One, he could stay on as her bodyguard and keep his damn hands off her. Or two, he could call Ellen first thing in the morning and ask her to send a replacement immediately.

  He'd sleep on it and make his decision in the morning.

  * * *

  Peggy Jo stared at the clock through half-closed, bleary eyes. She rubbed her eyes, opened them fully and took a second look. My heavens, was it really ten forty-five? She seldom slept this late. When she tossed back the cover and started to get up, she moaned as the soreness in her body reminded her of why she'd overslept this morning. She had exhausted herself in Jack's bed. The man's powerful lovemaking had worn her out.

  She couldn't stifle several more groans as she rolled out of bed. Every muscle in her body ached. And why shouldn't they? Jack's brand of lovemaking took a lot out of a woman. The smile came involuntarily to her lips. Oh, great, she was probably smiling like an idiot, like some lovesick fool. As she made her way into the bathroom and turned on the shower, she avoided even glancing at herself in the mirror. She knew what she'd see—a satisfied woman.

  After stripping out of her gown, she paused for a minute. She could smell Jack's scent still on her skin, as if he had embedded himself in her flesh. A shudder of remembrance passed through her. Shaking her head to dislodge thoughts of what she'd done last night and with whom, she opened the linen closet to remove towels and a washcloth. She stepped into the tub and pulled the shower curtain closed. Standing there, with the water pelting down on her, she shut her eyes and enjoyed the steady stream of hot water.

  What would she say to Jack this morning? How should she act? What would he expect? Damn! She wasn't used to having to deal w
ith the morning after. She'd just wait and take her cue from him.

  Twenty minutes later, with her hair dried and put into a ponytail, a pair of comfortable, baggy gray sweats covering her clean body, Peggy Jo went downstairs, dreading more and more with each step having to face Jack.

  She found him sitting beside Wendy at the computer desk, the two of them engrossed in a computer game. Hetty sat in the corner rocking chair, knitting away on an afghan, a sleeping Fur Ball on his pillow beside the chair. The moment Peggy Jo entered the room, three sets of eyes focused on her.

  "Well, if it isn't our sleeping beauty," Jack said, his gaze skimming over her leisurely, the perusal implying a certain familiarity with her body.

  "Hi, Mommy," Wendy said. "Did you get your nap out? Jack and me checked on you twice, but you were still asleep both times. One time you were snoring and Jack said that was because you were so tired." Wendy giggled.

  Jack winked at Peggy Jo. When her cheeks flamed with heat, she cupped her face with her hands.

  Hetty glanced up from her knitting. "Are you feeling all right? You looked flushed to me. Do you have a fever?"

  Oh, she had a fever all right. A fever in her blood named Jack Parker. "No, I'm fine. Really." She patted her cheeks, slid her hands down either side of her neck and said, "It is rather warm in here, isn't it?"

  "Same temperature it is every day in the house," Hetty said. "What's the matter with you? You're acting mighty peculiar."

  "Nothing is wrong with me." Peggy Jo glared at Hetty. "I guess I missed breakfast, so I'll just fix myself some fresh coffee and toast some bread."

  "Mommy, Jack and me—"

  "Jack and I," Peggy Jo corrected as she headed into the kitchen.

  "There's sausage biscuits in the oven," Hetty said. "Want me to make the coffee?"

  "Jack and I want to go to town today," Wendy said. "We want to see The Nutcracker and then talk to Santa and go by the bakery and buy chocolate fudge."