"I should have known,” she whispered as Kit moved some hangers out of the way.
"I knew where you were going the moment you opened your paper," he whispered back, his mouth so close to her ear she could feel the warm, moist air against her cheek.
"Did anyone see you come down here?"
Kit shook his head. She couldn't see it, she'd left the light off to prevent an early detection, but she could feel it. "I was sneaky."
So it might still be a long time before anyone found them.
A long time that the two of them would be alone. In the dark. With hardly any space separating them.
Robbed of her sight, Spencer found herself becoming more aware of things she hadn't noticed before, like the way her body fit perfectly up against his and the way he smelled like a blend of dryer sheets, Old Spice, and some delicious man-scent she’d never smelled before. She wanted to roll around in that scent like a puppy.
"Are you smelling me?"
Thank God for the absolute darkness. There was no way her face wasn't taking on the hue of a fire truck.
"You smell good," she admitted. Then, because the darkness made her brave, she pressed her nose into the shoulder of his sweater and took a deep breath. She didn't know it was possible to get turned on by a scent alone, but the throbbing in her nipples and between her thighs told her it was definitely a thing.
Kit shifted even closer. His nose trailed through her hair, causing goosebumps to race from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet. "You smell good, too," he rasped against her ear. His hands found her hips and pulled her tightly against him.
It was quickly evident she wasn't the only one affected by their situation. It took every ounce of control she had to not grind herself against his erection.
"This wasn't a good idea," he whispered, and she couldn't have disagreed more. This felt like the best idea she had ever had. "I can't be this close to you and not touch you."
"Then touch me," she said, amazed and a little terrified by her boldness. The fear quickly evaporated under his touch. His hands shaped her hips and explored her ass. They slid up under her sweater, leaving chill bumps in their wake as they drifted up the bare flesh of her sides and stomach.
"Are you wearing the bra?" he asked.
"What bra?"
"The red one. With the black lace."
"Yessss," she hissed as his hands traveled higher, cupping her breasts. His thumbs traced along the edge of her lacy cups before slipping inside and grazing over her nipples.
Her knees buckled as a shockwave of awareness ripped through her body. Was it possible to come from boob play? If so, she was dangerously close to doing so.
"What's behind this door?" A tiny yet forceful voice asked from entirely too close to where they were standing. Kit jerked back, banging his head on the rod, causing a cacophony when hangers hit the wall and floor. He jerked his hands out of her sweater as she tried desperately to stuff her breasts back into her bra.
The door came crashing open, and both Spencer and Kit threw up their hands to shield their eyes from the bright light.
"Do I really have to go in there?" Allie whined. "It's dark and hot. Look at how much Uncle Kitten and Aunt Spin are sweating."
They were both so very dead.
Chapter 11
It took forever to put the kids to bed that night. Maddie had been the last one to find everyone in the basement closet. She'd been so furious they'd agreed to play another round, allowing her to be It.
Spencer wouldn't look at Kit for the rest of the evening. Every time he got near her, she shied away. She probably thought what happened in the closet was a fluke. That it was over.
She was about to find out how very wrong she was.
He was pretty sure Amanda knew something was up, but she hadn't said anything. In his mind, silence was as good as consent. So with his sister's blessing, he made he way down to the basement, knowing that whatever happened next would change everything.
Spencer had already changed into her sleeping clothes. Tonight it was another pair of leggings and a soft gray tank top that exposed the strap of her bra.
"Want to kill some zombies?" She asked, pushing those damn come-and-fuck-me glasses up her nose.
"No." It came out a growl, but he didn't care. He felt primal as hell.
"Oh. Okay. I--"
He didn't let her finish. It took less than a second to stride across the room to where she was standing and another short breath to fit his mouth against hers. There was a heartbeat where she didn't move and he was afraid she would push him away, but then she gave in and moved her mouth in concert with his. It was so damn sweet he thought he might cry, which wasn't exactly the tone he was hoping for.
He tore his mouth away and ripped her tank top up over her head. The sight of her perfect, creamy breasts in that red satin and black lace bra nearly made him come in his jeans.
"Do you know many times I've imagined you in this?" He asked, his eyes never leaving her breasts. He wanted to commit the sight to memory. "Jesus, you're even more perfect than I dreamed you would be.”
"Quit looking at them and touch them," she moaned. He was more than happy to comply. With one finger he traced the pattern of lace on one cup, and then he followed the same path with his tongue. She squirmed, her fingers digging into his scalp. His hand found the other cup and plunged inside, freeing her breast from its beautiful prison. He thumbed and squeezed one nipple while he bit and tongued the other through the fabric barrier.
Spencer tugged on his hair, pulling his mouth away from her breasts and back up to hers. He couldn't complain, not with her tongue dancing with his. He could kiss her forever and it wouldn't be enough.
"Are we really doing this?" she asked when they finally came up for air.
"Unless you tell me to stop, then yes. We're really doing this." Hopefully more than once. If kissing her was this good, he could only imagine how earth shattering fucking her was going to be. "But, Spencer, if you're going to tell me to stop, please do it soon.”
"I don't want you to stop," she said, and he could hear how much courage it took for her to admit it. He rewarded her with a kiss to her exposed breast. With one hand he pulled her hips flush with his, and with the other he undid the snaps on her bra.
He might not have been on honor roll in high school, but he learned all the stuff that really mattered, like how to free a woman from her underthings with only one hand.
"You're wearing entirely too many clothes," she complained as he began walking her back towards the ugly-as-sin yellow couch he'd rescued from the dump when he was fourteen. She tugged impatiently at the hem of his shirt. Unwilling to disappoint her, he pulled it off and tossed it in the general direction of the futon. His pants quickly followed.
He was on fire for her. His entire body ached to take her, to claim her. His cock was harder than had ever been, straining against the confines of his boxer briefs. He was all want and need, and Spencer…
Spencer was giggling.
“Are those elves on your panties?”
“They’re briefs, and hell yes, they’re elves. It’s Christmas.” He wanted to be annoyed, maybe even embarrassed, but he was too distracted by the way her perfect breasts jiggled with every fresh peal of giggles. “I’ve showed you mine, now show me yours. What have you got under those leggings, Spence?”
“Not elves,” she promised. Her tongue bathed her bottom lip as she hooked her thumbs into the band of her leggings. In one quick jerk, they were gone, leaving her standing there in nothing but her glasses.
“You’re not wearing underwear.”
She shrugged up one deliciously pink shoulder. “I don’t see the point.”
“You never wear underwear?”
Spencer shook her head.
Jesus Christ. Was she trying to kill him? How was he supposed to sit around the dinner table with Mack and Rita knowing she went commando?
An old threadbare quilt was folded across the back of the couch. He pul
led it down and haphazardly spread it across the seat.
“Sit,” he commanded.
Spencer sat without even batting an eye. He would definitely be exploring just how submissive she might be willing to be later, but for now he had other plans.
He went to his knees, uncaring that the floor was nothing more than cheap carpet over concrete. His hands wrapped around her dainty ankles and then began making their way north. Her legs were smooth and toned. He had yet to see her do any exercise, but if he was playing the odds, he would say she had a regular yoga class back home. He placed a kiss on the inside of her knee, and her moan was so erotic he made a trail up her thigh. By the time he reached the top they were both shaking.
“You are so wet for me.” Her ex didn’t know what he was talking about. This girl was the living embodiment of passion.
“Kit. Please.”
There was no need for her to beg. He’d never wanted to taste a woman the way he wanted to taste her. On the first swipe of his tongue he found heaven. On the second, so did she.
Chapter 12
That had to be some sort of land-speed record. Was there a section in the Guinness Book for fastest climax? If so, a picture of Spencer’s very satisfied face was going to be there.
Kit Bernal was a sex god.
She had never felt like this before. She’d never been like this before. Good lord, she was sprawled out naked and spent with every light in the room blazing bright. Did she have no shame?
Kit bounded to his feet and wrestled with his adorable seasonal boxer briefs before finally freeing himself.
No, she had no shame. None. Zero. Because at the sight of his cock all she could think was, “Yum.”
Spencer wrapped one hand around the base and guided him to her mouth. Travis had been a selfish asshole in bed, but for once she was grateful. She might not be beautiful or sexy, but by God she knew how to give good head.
She teased him with licks and kisses before taking him in her mouth. Her tongue worked his length as she sucked her way down.
“Fuck,” Kit moaned as she relaxed her throat so she could take him even deeper. He was big, too big for her to take all of him in one go, but she was nothing if not determined.
“Enough,” he said, pulling away from her several minutes later when she was near her goal. “I don’t want to come like this. I want to be inside you.”
Her core clenched, clearly in agreement with this plan.
“The bed,” he said, obviously coming to the same realization as she was regarding the comfort level of sex on a pleather couch. She started to stand, but before she could get her feet beneath her, he scooped her up.
Spencer hadn’t been carried anywhere by anyone since she was a kid. It was terrifying, disorienting, and sexy as hell.
“My, what big muscles you have,” she said as her hands traced the hills and valleys of his arms.
His smile was all teeth. “All the better to fuck you with, my dear.”
Sex. God.
The world tilted off its axis as she plummeted to the bed. Kit disappeared for a moment, and when he reappeared he was ripping into a condom package.
“Eventually I’m going to take you in every position I know and a few I haven’t thought up yet, but right now I need to see you beneath me,” he said, crawling over her.
“Just get inside of me. Now.” She didn’t know it was possible to need anyone as much as she needed him. And it wasn’t only the sex. She needed him. Kit. She needed to be able to look into his eyes and know he was with her.
His mouth was like a furnace when it collided with hers. Their tongues dueled for dominance as he hooked her leg over his hip. His tip nudged at her opening, and she nearly came apart at the contact.
If he kept this up she was going the score a second Guinness entry for the most orgasms achieved in a single night.
“I don’t know if I can go slow,” he ground out between his teeth, and Spencer swore she could feel the vibration of his words in her clit.
“Then don’t.”
He thrust into her, and Spencer had to bite his shoulder to keep from screaming out loud enough to wake the entire house. He wasn’t lying about his lack of restraint. He took her hard and fast, and she was right there with him the whole time. Her orgasm came faster and harder than she thought possible. It shattered her apart and the small part of her brain still capable of thought worried she might never be able to forge herself back together.
Chapter 13
Spencer woke up slowly the next morning. Kit had slipped out of bed hours ago after spending the night wrapped around her like some sort of living, breathing blanket. It should have been impossible for the two of them to sleep comfortably on such a tiny bed, but Spencer hadn’t had such a good night’s rest in ages.
She pulled herself up into a sitting position, the movement highlighting all the places that were tender and aching after last night.
What had she done?
And when could she do it again?
Spencer wasn’t a virgin, not by a long shot, but she’d never hooked up with someone before. Those other guys had all worked their way up to the main event. Dinners, movies, weeks of kisses and over-the-clothes fondling. Sex was the logical next step in the progression of their relationships.
Nothing about what had happened with Kit was logical. In fact, it was completely illogical. They’d only known each other for four days. Four days. She had longer relationships with leftovers from Maggiano’s.
And then there was the whole ex-stepson of her mother’s new husband thing.
Good God. She was going to have to sit at the dinner table with the entire family and somehow not give away the fact that she had the most mind-blowing sex of her life with the man they considered their son/brother/uncle.
She was going to blush. And then her mother was going to ask her why she was blushing. And then she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from looking at Kit. And then they would all know.
Was it possible for her to hide in the basement for the next three days?
That plan had merit, especially if she could convince Kit to stay with her. Because no matter how illogical it was, she didn’t regret what had happened. Not even a little bit. In fact, she was eager to see him again. Not for sex. People might notice if she jumped him in the middle of the family room. She just wanted to be near him. To talk to him. Being around him made her happy. The sun always seemed to shine a little brighter and her coffee tasted a little sweeter when Kit was around.
Speaking of coffee, she was in dire need.
She took a few more minutes getting ready than normal. She knew it was ridiculous. Kit had seen her without her makeup done or hair styled all week and it certainly hadn’t been a turn off, but she wanted to look nice for him. So she put on her eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss and made good use of her straightening iron before donning her favorite pair of jeans and sexiest sweater.
“Did you just wake up?” Maddie demanded the moment she topped the stairs.
“Good morning to you, too, Maddie,” Spencer said, grabbing a blueberry muffin off the table. It was her mom’s recipe. She could tell by the way all the blueberries had sunk to the bottom. She called them her Soggy Bottom Buns. There was even a song she sang while she baked them. Something about being muffins of constant sorrow or some such rubbish.
“My mom says only bums sleep in until noon,” Maddie persisted.
Spencer wasn’t sure why this particular little girl had decided to hate her on spot, but even the demon child couldn’t ruin her morning after buzz.
“Good thing it’s only eleven-thirty.” She wandered over to the window that looked out over the flat side yard where Kit was building the pavilion. Despite the drop in temperature, he went out and worked on it every single morning. With everyone pitching in now and again he’d almost completed the floor, which was comprised of big, flat stones. He was determined to get it all done by Christmas morning, which is why it was odd he wasn’t out there at the moment.
“Hey, kid, do you know where your Uncle Kitten is?”
“Uncle Kitten went with the Christmas fairy lady,” Allie said, bounding into the kitchen, Mack following close behind.
“Christmas fairy lady?”
Allie climbed up on the counter and grabbed a plastic glass off the shelf while Mack grabbed a jug of chocolate milk out of the fridge. “Yeah, she’s all sparkly and her name is Tinsel, like that stuff you put on the tree,” Allie said, eyeing the floor as if she wasn’t quite sure how it got so far away.
“Her name isn’t Tinsel,” Maddie said, sliding a chair across the floor, making sure it made the maximum amount of noise possible. “It’s Tinsley. She’s Uncle Kitten’s Timber girlfriend.”
“Timber girlfriend?” Spencer felt all the blood leave her head and pool up deep in her gut.
“Uncle Kitten has lots of girlfriends,” Maddie explained as Allie slid off the counter, onto the chair, and then safely to the floor. “My mom says he’s a man whore.” She blinked her giant brown eyes up at her grandfather. “What’s a man whore, Poppy?”
“It… It’s ummm…” Mack was a middle-aged man. Any other time she would have found his blush adorable, but it was impossible to think anything over the roaring in her ears. “It’s not a very nice thing to say. Your mother shouldn’t have said it around you.”
Even though she had little to no experience with children, Spencer knew that was the exact opposite of what he should have said. Maddie went from mildly curious to obsessed in the blink of an eye.
“But what does it mean?”
Mack narrowed his eyes on his granddaughter. “Madeline Grace—”
“Is whore a cuss word? Mommy said it, and she doesn’t use cuss words, so I don’t think it’s a cuss word.”
“Drop it, Maddie.”
“Is it mean? Why would mommy say something mean about Uncle Kitten? He’s the best uncle in the world.”
“I said—”
“It just means your Uncle Kitten has a lot of friends who are girls,” Spencer cut in before Mack could lose his temper. The words were raw and dry in her throat, but she forced a smile to hide their bitter flavor from the kid. “That doesn’t sound so bad, does it?”
Spencer Nation's Christmas Miracle Page 5