Countdown To A Kiss A New Years Eve Anthology

by Colleen Gleason

The Keeper of the Debutantes Chapter Eight

  Lake Road was the perfect place to open her up, but Annabelle knew that speed was one thrill, and handling another. So after Duncan hit somewhere around one hundred-twenty on the speedometer, Annabelle directed him to a winding country road leading up a small pass to a park that overlooked the lake. The back and forth turns could have been taken with a bit more speed in the light of day, but Duncan's expressions and occasional outbursts assured her that he was having a good time playing with her car.

  The road dumped into a small parking lot, which was apparently just large enough for Duncan to gun the engine, spin them around and skid into a stop. All of which was a little more daredevil than Duncan probably had intended, producing a short scream from Annabelle and some wide eyes and heavy breathing from him as the car settled beneath them.

  "Oh my God!" "That was close!" they said at the same time.

  "I got a little carried away," he said sheepishly.

  "Believe me, I understand," she assured him. "Would you mind taking off your coat before we start back?"

  Duncan looked down at his tuxedo jacket. "I am so sorry," he said, quickly stripping the coat from his arms. "You must be freezing. "

  "No," she said, folding his jacket and holding it over the back seat. She let it drop behind them.

  "No?" he said, his eyes shifting back and forth between hers.

  She shook her head as she reached for his right hand and started to unfasten the cufflink she found at his wrist. Duncan watched in silence as she dropped it into the cup holder. But when she leaned over him and started to unfasten the other one, he dragged in a slow breath and caught the back of her head in the palm of his hand. She finished pulling the cufflink free just as he turned her face to his.

  "Annabelle," he whispered, his breath labored. "Annabelle, I. . . "

  At a loss for words he brought his other hand up and captured the side of her face, pressing her back a little before his mouth caught up to his hands. He pressed his lips to hers in a slow, soft kiss.

  It was just a tease, a tender touch, but oh how it shot rockets of desire through her body. He angled his head and kissed her again, this time allowing his tongue to sweep gently across her upper lip and then her lower one. He turned his head the other way and Annabelle's hands moved up of their own volition to grab onto his wrists as his mouth toyed again with delicious tenderness.

  "Annabelle," he whispered, balancing his forehead against hers. "I was trying to hold out until midnight. "

  Deliberately licking her lips, she whispered back, "I got tired of waiting. "

  "I was trying to mind my manners," he grunted as he hauled her over to the driver's side, and settled her onto his lap. "Something I'm aware the Keeper of the Debutantes is all about. " With her back to the door and her legs draped over him and the center console, he hit the seat adjustment button to move them back from the steering wheel as far as possible.

  Annabelle's fingers started in on his bow tie, pulling it loose with expert hands. "First my jacket. Then my cufflinks. Now my tie? What am I? Your little Ken doll?"

  Annabelle stopped her fingers on the second stud of his shirt, slanting her head to consider. "No. You're more like my Officer Friendly action figure. And I've been dying to see you without a shirt ever since this afternoon when you wrapped me in your coat and pulled me up against this chest. " She rubbed her hands down his shirt, over his pectoral muscles and his rib cage then back up and over his shoulders. She stopped at his biceps and squeezed.

  Duncan watched her ogle him, his grin spreading from ear to ear. "I guess a girl who drives a muscle car might have an appreciation for. . . " His words fell off while he moved his fingers into Annabelle's hair. "I had this crazy urge this afternoon, too," he said slowly, as if remembering. "I wanted to run my hand through your hair. Like this," he said threading his fingers up the back of her scalp. "And then pull you close," he whispered as he did. "And kiss you," he went on as he touched her lips with short, soft kisses. "Like I meant it," he breathed before he deepened the kiss.

  The thrill of his tongue finally demanding its way into her mouth shot a branding heat throughout her chest and down the center of her rib cage. Her body grew heavy and warm and then seemed to fade away. Her mind fell into a blissful state of semi-consciousness while she kissed Duncan James.

  Like rising through the fog of a dream and entering slowly back into a state of awareness, Annabelle found herself in Duncan's arms, her body tingling in arousal, his mouth trailing its way from her lips, down her throat and over to the sensitive spot just above her clavicle. She felt his tongue swirl across the indentation there and his hands moving up on both sides of her rib cage, his thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts at first. . . then finally moving across the peaks of her nipples.

  She heard a sound escape, though she was unaware of making it, so focused on her core being melted, tipped, and now cascading down to pool at the southernmost region of her body.

  "I want. . . " she started, eyes closed, licking her lips. "I need to. . . " she tried again, but had no ability to find the right words. "Here," she finally breathed, gripping the back of his seat and leveraging herself around Duncan's legs. She pulled at her gown, gathering it high so her legs could straddle his, bringing them face to face. She eased her body down to his lap and bit her bottom lip when the throbbing aching need of her met the rock-solid heat of him.

  Duncan rolled his pelvis in response. His hands slid down to grip her hips. "Jesus Christ," he cursed as he rocked himself against her again. His hands slid under her gown and up her parted thighs, feeling their way to the soft curve of her behind, moving her forward at the same time as he ground himself against her. His mouth sought hers and she feasted on his lips, tilting her pelvis to help create more friction.

  The deliciousness of her body moving against his, of his arms tightening around her, of the way their lips played, the way their tongues tangled, the joy of being alive and having found the One bubbled up inside Annabelle and it all came out in a yummy, humming sort of groaning approval that vibrated against his lips.

  "I know," he breathed, a hand coming up and sweeping the hair back from her face. "This feels really. . . " He kissed her again. "Really. . . " He got lost in her lips, and his hands groped around for purchase between the sides of her thighs, her lower back, sometimes skimming her aching breasts but not settling anywhere for long. Finally, he set both hands on either side of her face and put some distance between their lips. He looked at her, then closed his eyes, panting.

  "This. . . " he started, opening his eyes and staring at her seriously. "We. . . " His chest heaved with a large intake of breath as he managed to continue, "are not making this a one-night stand. "

  Annabelle leaned back a little. "Are you asking me out on a second date?"

  He nodded, still holding his hands to her head. "Are you accepting?"

  She nodded back.

  "I'm serious," he told her.

  "I believe you," she said.

  His hands fell from her face in exasperation. "And I probably am going to have to turn in my Man Card for this, but I have no intention of making love to you for the first time in this car. It just would. . . " his voice began to trail off, "set the wrong tone for a relationship. " He turned his head and looked out into the darkness.

  The silence pounded heavy and long, matching Annabelle's heartbeat. She wanted to respond with a gift of words equal to what he'd just bestowed upon her. But her mind could find nothing worthy. Emotion swelled within her and before she could lean into him, he turned his face back and barked, "Don't you debutantes have a five date rule or something?"

  She nodded briskly and saw his features soften. Inches apart, he had to have noticed the tears in her eyes. "We should," she sniffed, nodding again. "We really should. " She eased herself down against him, pressing her cheek against his shoulder.

  His arms closed snugly around her as
he said, "So let's count this up. We have tonight, date number one. Your daddy asked me over tomorrow for the Rose Bowl, so maybe we can count that as date number two. " Annabelle simply snuggled down lower. "Tomorrow night we both will be back in Raleigh and I'm thinking I'd like to take you to dinner, if that's all right. " She nodded her head against his chest. "That's date number three. "

  He rubbed his cheek. "Friday night is always a good movie date night," he said. "You free this Friday?" He tucked his chin to look down at her and she nodded against him again. "Okay, good. Date number four. "

  A comfortable silence settled around them, the heater still pouring out warmth, the headlights still shining on the road back down the hill. When Duncan started to talk, it was as if he were constructing a poetic invitation. "For date number five," he breathed, tilting his head and kissing the soft spot behind her ear, "I will discover, through my own devices, your favorite flower and present you with a bouquet when I arrive to pick you up. We'll take my car--which is not as fast as this one but a little more luxurious--to The Capital Grille where we'll enjoy a steak dinner by candlelight at a very secluded table. I'll order a fine cabernet and we'll share the chocolate souffle for dessert. And while we're at dinner, we'll make plans for Valentine's Day weekend. And then," he said, leaning down and catching her lips up with his, "I will take you home and make love to you," he said between kisses, "all. . . night. . . long. "