by Peggy Bird
“So we just let nature take its course.”
“In a manner of speaking, I guess.”
“Are you prepared?”
“Prepared?” He wasn’t quite sure where she was headed with that question. Then he understood. “Oh, you mean do I have protection? Yes, I do.”
“So, I was pretty much a sure thing for tonight?”
“You, sweetheart, are never a sure thing. But I’m an optimist.”
“I think I like knowing that.” She caressed his face. “So, all we have to do is decide where all this will be happening, is that right? Your place or mine?”
“Yours is closer.”
It took longer to wipe off the steamed-up windshield than it did to drive to her house.
• • •
Hannah had never been seduced so effectively by words. David’s kisses were potent—she’d been dreaming about them since the first time he kissed her—but his words were even more powerful. Oh, my God, his words. He had her wet and wanting with his description of what he wanted to do. If he could do that while they were fully dressed in his car, what would it be like when they were naked in her bed?
She was about to find out because they were at her house. She steadied herself with a few deep breaths before getting out of the car and walking up the steps to the door. Once there, however, her hand was so shaky she fumbled with the key, unable to get it into the lock until David covered her hand with his and guided her.
Inside the house, without saying anything more, he did exactly what he had described in the car—kissed her, took off her coat, then followed her into her bedroom, where he undressed them both, silently. The only sounds were their ragged breathing and the occasional involuntary gasp as his fingers brushed over her skin, already hypersensitive from the words he’d said.
Then they were lying side-by-side in her bed, facing each other, his hand caressing her body from her shoulder, down her arm, to her hip. The anticipation of what was next had ramped up her heartbeat and made breathing something she had to think about doing.
He finally broke the silence. “I’ve been dreaming about this for a week,” he said. “I want to feel your skin, touch your breasts, kiss you right here.” He dipped his head and made good on his words, his lips in the valley between her breasts. “You taste even better than I imagined. So sweet, so beautiful,” he said when he raised his head.
She caressed the shoulder she’d wanted to touch since the first day she’d met him. “You’re the one who’s beautiful.” She didn’t think she’d ever seen such a toned and muscled body. He may have worked behind a desk, but he did something to keep himself in such good shape. Right now she didn’t care what it was, only that he did it and she got to enjoy it.
He insinuated one leg between hers. “Hannah.” Her name came out in a rush of breath, a whisper of desire. She ran a finger along his cheekbone and down his jawline, loving the scratchy feel of his day’s worth of whiskers. He grabbed the finger and brought it to his lips, licking it, kissing it, then taking it into his mouth and sucking on it.
She felt the pull from her finger all the way down her body to her sex. It may have been the most erotic thing anyone had ever done to her. “Oh, God, David, you’re killing me.”
“You’ve been killing me all evening. All I could think about was this.” He slid one hand into her hair and pulled her head toward him. His mouth was hot, hard, desperate for her. He dipped his tongue into her mouth, mating it with hers as she responded with equal passion.
Her body arched toward him. She could feel the hard length of his erection pressing against her belly, proof he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. But he seemed determined to take his time. Shifting on the bed, gently turning her on her back, he caressed one breast while he used his mouth and tongue to bring the nipple on the other to a pebbly point. Just when she thought she couldn’t bear the intensity any longer, he switched and began his delightful torture on the other breast.
“Please,” she pleaded. “I need ... I want … ”
“Tell me what you need, sweetheart. I’ll do whatever you want me to.”
“I need you. I want you.”
“Like this?” He slid his hand down her torso and found the spot hidden in her sex where all the heat, all the moisture, all the want had pooled. As he massaged her clitoris with his thumb, he entered her—first with one finger, then two, finding another spot to caress. In what seemed like only seconds, the waves of an orgasm crashed over her, and the world contracted to just what David was doing to her. To the glorious way her body was responding to him.
“I love how ready you were for me. Love how beautiful you are when you come,” he whispered as he held her, cushioning her descent from the heavenly feel of her climax. He waited until her breathing became more regular before moving between her legs. “I could touch and kiss you all night. I don’t think I could ever get enough of you.”
Her eyes locked on his. “But I want more than kissing and touching,” she said.
He smiled. “Me, too.” He reached under the pillow next to her where, she realized, he’d stashed a condom. “Help me put this on.”
She wasn’t sure who ripped open the packet. Maybe she did. Maybe he did. All she knew was it was opened, the condom pulled out, and he had been sheathed.
She needed him inside her. All of him. Inside. Now.
He was back between her legs, guiding himself into her, slowly, letting her adjust to the feel of him. She locked one leg around him, pressing her hips into his, eager to have him fill her. When he did, she stilled, wanting to savor the sensation. But her need for him wouldn’t let her stay still for long. Restless to have him move inside her, she brought her other leg over his back and began to rock her hips.
Slowly at first, he moved in and out in a rhythm he matched with his tongue in her mouth. She could feel his rapid heartbeat against her own, the muscles in his shoulders and back tensing as he moved over her. Their bodies slid against each other on a slick of sweat as he drove into her harder, faster, deeper. They were flying together high over the city, where the air was cool and the oxygen rare. Where only a lucky few ever get to go.
Where he was taking her until she cried out his name, her body clenched around him, and they both found release.
• • •
Hannah was dancing to the music in her head as she ground beans and filled her coffee maker with water. Never in her thirty-two years had she felt so good the morning after a night spent with a man. Not that she had a huge cadre of men to compare him to, but David was an amazing lover. He seemed to care more about what she wanted than his own pleasure, although she was pretty sure from the two times they’d had sex the night before that he was as happy with their lovemaking as she was. As soon as the coffee was brewed, she was headed back to bed. Maybe they could make it three times.
Two strong arms pulling her against a muscled chest interrupted her musings. “There you are. I missed you,” David said as he nuzzled the back of her neck. “I woke up, and you were gone. I knew you hadn’t left because ... ”
“Because it’s my house?” She turned her head so she could see him. His bed hair and morning scruffy face were sexy as hell. Not to mention the feel of his body pressed against her back.
“Something like that,” he said.
“I was making coffee to bring back to bed for us.”
He turned her around and pulled her hard against him. “I’d rather have you in bed than coffee.”
“You have me now, here.”
“I’m not crazy about sex on the kitchen floor. It’s not nearly as comfortable here as in your bed. As in any bed, for that matter.”
“I’ve never had sex on the kitchen floor.”
He sighed. “Okay, if you need to check it off your bucket list, I’m your man.” He moved the bar stool from under the breakfast bar as if to make room for them on the floor.
His expression, some weird combination of resignation and arousal, made it difficult for her to k
eep a straight face. “It’s okay. I’ll take your word for how uncomfortable it is,” she said.
The sound of the coffee maker expelling the last bit of water interrupted. “Coffee’s done. Do you take milk or sugar?” she asked.
“Black. Thanks.”
She filled two mugs. “Good. That makes it faster.” Handing him one mug she said, “Now, about that more comfortable place to make love.”
• • •
Thanks to the comfort of her bed, breakfast ran into lunch. After they’d showered and eaten, Hannah asked, “What’s on your schedule for today?” hoping the answer was, “Nothing but you, sweetheart.”
“You don’t have a Christmas tree yet. I thought we’d go get one for you and decorate it together. Assuming you have lights and ornaments.”
“Of course I do. I just don’t always get around to dragging it all out.”
“No wonder you don’t feel the spirit. You don’t have that fresh evergreen smell greeting you every time you walk into the living room. Or see the lights reflected in the ornaments. I bet you don’t even have any Christmas music to listen to while we decorate.”
“You’re really into this, aren’t you?” She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I have Christmas CDs. My mother made sure of it. I’m not sure where they are, but I can look.”
“Tree first. I know this great tree farm where we can cut a fresh tree so it lasts all the way to Twelfth Night.”
“Which branch of Judaism celebrates Twelfth Night?”
“That would be my late grandmother, the Episcopalian.” He grabbed her coat from the hook by the door. “Enough questioning of my motives and religious upbringing. Unless you have a waterproof drop cloth, a saw, and some rope, we’ll have to stop by my apartment.”
“Do I want to know why you have a waterproof drop cloth, a saw, and rope? Are you some kind of serial killer?”
“You’ve been watching too many crime shows.”
• • •
Their perfect Friday evening segued into an even more perfect Saturday, which ended with a dinner they cooked together and another night of sweet explorations in bed. Hannah had to admit—to herself, if not yet to David—that cutting down a cute little tree and decorating it with him while listening to Christmas CDs had been fun. It made her feel like she was part of the season in a way she hadn’t felt since she was a kid. But how could it not? He was so full of enthusiasm it was hard to resist.
On Sunday, Hannah was scheduled to work and David had to meet his sister to pick up a birthday gift for his niece. They parted with a lingering kiss.
After work that evening, as she finished up hand sewing the doll clothes for Hannah, too, and wrapped a Harry Potter Lego set for her other secret Santa, the younger Hannah’s little brother, she realized how eagerly she was looking forward to the party at SafePlace. It was partly because she’d see David, but she also had to acknowledge she wanted to be part of the celebration with the kids. Wanted to see the expression on Hannah, too’s face when she opened her gifts.
She also had to admit she was feeling the urge to bake snickerdoodles and gingerbread men. Maybe even take a plate of them to SafePlace during her lunch break to surprise David. Was it possible he had begun to convince her that there was something good in celebrating the season? Should she give in and admit he was close to winning the bet? She wasn’t quite ready to do that, but decorating a tree and baking cookies were surely steps in that direction.
Chapter 7
Hannah almost didn’t make it out of her office on Tuesday to deliver the cookies she’d made for David. Between helping her staff take care of people who’d put off shopping and were now racing through the store in a panic, and nailing down the last-minute details of the party at SafePlace, she had barely a moment to breathe. But finally, she squeezed out fifteen minutes to make her delivery. David’s assistant wasn’t around when she got to his office, but his door was open and she could see he was in.
He was on the phone, his back to her. She paused outside the door, not wanting to interrupt.
“Look,” he was saying. “I know I promised I’d take care of her, but I had no idea what it would entail. She requires one hell of a lot of attention.”
There was a pause, as he apparently listened to whoever was on the other end of the call.
He laughed. “I know. I know. I owe you. But when you asked me this favor, I thought it would be a lot easier than it turned out to be. She’s cute in her puppy dog way, but you’re asking a lot by leaving her to my tender mercies.”
Another pause.
“Like I said, she’s really high maintenance. I’m looking forward to Christmas being over and getting her out of my hair.” He paused for a response, then laughed again. “I just mean I’ll have my life back. I have other plans, you know, for how I want to spend my free time.”
Who was David talking to? Who was he talking about? Who did he owe ... ? A poisonous answer slithered its way into her mind. No, it couldn’t be. Could it? He didn’t mean ... Did he?
Not wanting to hear any more, Hannah backed away from the door as quietly as she could. Once in the hall, she took off at a run, anxious to get out of the building before anyone saw her. Her head hurt. Her chest was tight. She had to get away.
A block later, she realized she was still clutching the paper plate piled with David’s cookies. A panhandling homeless woman with a small child caught her eye. Even the little boy’s profuse thanks for the unexpected gift weren’t enough to ease the pain in her head.
Slipping into a Starbucks, she sat in the corner with an eggnog latte and tried to sort out what she had just overheard.
First, she’d heard the man who professed to love Christmas say he wanted the holiday over and done with so he could get his life back. Second, he’d undertaken a responsibility at the request of someone he owed a favor to. Third, he’d been taking care of someone—not just someone—a woman, who demanded a lot of attention.
Who would be out of his life—out of his hair—after Christmas? The answer seemed obvious. With the party over, she would be. But did he really think of her as cute in a puppy dog way? Or as high maintenance?
No matter how she parsed the sentences, there was only one answer she could come up with. He’d paid attention to her because he promised Mr. Austin he would. Mr. Austin, who had done so much for SafePlace. But why would Simon Austin ask that favor of David? Granted, there had been quite a few complaints sent to corporate from dissatisfied customers over the past few weeks, but had there been so many that he was worried about her management of his store?
Or was he concerned she’d taken on more than she could handle, with Angie gone and the SafePlace campaign to organize? He’d seemed worried about it that first meeting in her office. Had he asked David to step in and help? Maybe he had. David had offered to help at almost every turn, hadn’t he? Was that just to please Mr. Austin?
Crap. Why hadn’t she seen it before? David wasn’t interested in her. He was just another man trying to advance his career by using her, doing what had been asked of him because he wanted the money Simon Austin could contribute to SafePlace. She’d thrown herself at David like a fool, and because he wasn’t crazy, he’d caught what was so eagerly pitched. Just because he headed a program that helped kids and abused women didn’t mean he was any different than any other guy.
Damn. Damn. Damn. David had suckered her into caring about Christmas—about him—when he wasn’t much better than the-dipshit-whose-name-was-forbidden. She’d been right all along. Christmas spirit was bullshit, nothing more than an excuse to use people to get what you wanted for yourself.
She finished her coffee, crumpled the cup, and tossed it into the trash. She didn’t need David Shay’s help to get through Christmas. And she’d make sure Mr. Austin knew it before the week was over. As for David—she’d give him what he wanted. After this week, she’d be out of his life.
She shut down the voice in her head asking if she was sure that was what she wanted, and went back to
her store.
• • •
Hannah threw herself into her work, putting in extra-long days, taking over the hours of parents on staff who needed flexibility to attend their kids’ school programs, and making sure she was slated to be there the very busy day after Christmas and the following weekend. She even canceled her time off over New Year’s. She’d show Mr. Austin and everyone else she could do everything that had to be done, and do it well.
The store closed at four on Christmas Eve, and most of the staff eagerly walked to SafePlace for the two-hour party they’d all done so much to organize. Mandy and one other staffer had spent the better part of the afternoon there, directing the caterers and helping SafePlace staff arrange tables and chairs. Hannah was the only person reluctant to go. She knew she couldn’t escape David in person as easily as she’d avoided his phone calls and texts over the past few days, messages that had started out sweet and sexy and had become progressively more hurt and confused as she continued to ignore them.
The party was a roaring success. The Santa they’d hired was amazing. The kids put on a wonderful program explaining the significance of the holidays featured in their decorations. The food was delicious. The face painting, balloon animals, and photo booth were hits.
The best part, for Hannah, was it was so crowded she’d been able to get away with only a superficial greeting to David when she arrived. She hadn’t been able to avoid seeing the hurt look in his eyes, but she’d steeled herself to ignore it.
She looked around for Hannah, too, but the little girl found her first.
“Hannah One, you were right! Santa knew where I was and brought me the most beautiful doll in the world. Her name’s Isabelle, she has blonde hair just like me, and she came with lots of clothes. I even got a shirt like one of hers.” The little girl grabbed the adult Hannah’s hand. “Come see her.”
Hannah allowed herself to be dragged over to a table where a tired-looking woman and a small boy were sitting. “Mommy, this is Hannah One. She told Santa where George and I were so he could find us.”