The Christmas Proposition

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The Christmas Proposition Page 11

by Cindy Kirk


  He didn’t respond immediately and Rachel wasn’t sure what else to say. She felt as if she’d just dug a big hole and now stood teetering, ready to fall in.

  “At the risk of sounding sexist,” he said at last, “I want to protect you and keep you safe.”

  “Even if I’m more than capable of doing that myself?” Her voice came out sharper than she’d intended. But the terror that had gripped her when Tom had died wasn’t easily forgotten. He’d been her rock and then suddenly she’d been alone. Until then, she’d never realized how much she’d depended on him. She’d survived, but it hadn’t been easy.

  His gaze searched her face and a tiny smile returned to his lips. “You’re a strong woman, Rachel. I have no doubt you can handle whatever life throws at you.”

  She felt the tenseness leave her shoulders. He understood.

  “Still, I want to protect you.”

  The unexpected admission was like a splash of cold water. “What?”

  He wheeled the cart into an aisle filled with clothes for preteens, then stopped. “While I know that women, that you, can manage just fine, I’m a man. That means I protect those I care about. I want to make things easier for you…if you’ll let me.”

  She swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat. “I want to make things easier, better, for you, too.”

  He reached over and squeezed her arm. “You already do. Just by being here with me.”

  Not only the words, but also the sincerity, touched her heart. Impulsively she reached over and took his hand.

  “Rachel—”

  She met his gaze, the heat in his eyes stoking the fire simmering in her belly.

  He took a step closer and cupped her face with his hand.

  Rachel held her breath.

  “Aren’t you Derek Rossi?”

  Muttering an expletive under his breath, Derek turned, a smile on his face.

  A middle-aged woman with tightly permed hair stepped close holding out a ball cap. “My youngest son is a huge fan. Would you mind signing this cap for him?”

  Although Rachel knew Derek hadn’t welcomed the interruption, she stood back and listened, amazed at his kindness and patience as he chatted with the woman and signed the cap.

  “You were so nice to her,” Rachel said, after the mother of his “biggest fan” walked off with a big smile on her face.

  “Growing up, I approached my share of ballplayers,” he said. “I remember how I was treated. Usually good. Occasionally not. I vowed that when I made it to the show I’d always be there for my fans.”

  Rachel was impressed. Despite the recent bad press, it appeared Derek Rossi was a genuinely nice guy.

  Too good, Rachel thought irritably. It would be easy to fall in love with such a man.

  By the time they finished buying a cartful of clothes and toys for Mickie, Rachel’s fear had turned to terror. She was having way too much fun with this guy.

  Of course you are, she told herself. He’s a friend. That’s what you do with friends. You have fun.

  Sometimes you kiss. Sometimes you even hop in bed with them.

  Try as she might, Rachel couldn’t purge the words from her head. But it wasn’t the kissing that occupied her thoughts, it was…the other.

  The taste of his lips, the feel of his touch, had released a firestorm of desire.

  Was Lexi correct? Could you make love with a friend and neither of you walk away hurt? And what about Tom? She could not, would not, betray Tom. But would it be a betrayal if there was no love involved? If it was just sex?

  “Earth to Rachel.”

  She looked up and realized they were at his Escalade.

  “Where to from here?” While waiting for her answer, he clicked open the trunk release and loaded the sacks inside. “If you’re hungry we could stop somewhere for lunch.”

  Her gaze searched his face. In less than two weeks he’d be gone…forever. There could be no happily-ever-after with this man. And that was just fine with her.

  “Let’s go to my place,” she said, feeling bold and more than a little reckless. “Mickie won’t be home until five.”

  He shrugged. “Okay.”

  By his response he obviously hadn’t gotten the message. So Rachel waited until he shut the trunk, then she kissed him. Right out in the parking lot for anyone to see.

  Surprise lit his eyes, even as a pleased smile lifted his lips. “What was that for?”

  “Does there have to be a reason?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  She turned to step into the Escalade when he spun her around and kissed her. By the time he let her go, she was out of breath.

  “Well,” she said. “That was…nice.”

  He grinned. Seconds later, Rachel found herself humming to the radio as he turned onto the highway.

  “With Mickie not home,” Derek said, “it’ll be a good time to get her gifts wrapped.”

  “If we have time. We might be too busy.”

  “What else would we be doing?”

  “No child in the house. The two of us alone.” She gazed at him through lowered lashes. “You do the math.”

  Derek carried the packages into Rachel’s townhome, his mind racing. Had she really just asked him to have sex with her?

  He was almost certain Rachel hadn’t been with a man since her husband died. Although she had a lot of friends, he knew she’d been lonely. If he slept with her, would he be taking advantage of that loneliness? Probably.

  Derek decided he should drop off the sacks and make an excuse why he couldn’t stay. But by the time he’d placed the bags on the dining-room table, Rachel had already removed her coat and pulled down the shades. With a push of a button, a fire glowed in the hearth. When she held out a bottle of wine, he realized Rachel clearly had her plans set for the afternoon.

  “Some wine?” The slight tremor in her voice told him she wasn’t as confident as she appeared.

  “I’d love a glass.” He knew it was the correct response when the lines of worry between her brows disappeared.

  She sat the bottle down and held out her hand. “First let me take your coat.”

  He slipped off his jacket and placed it in her hands, his fingers brushing hers.

  A bolt of fire shot up his arm. His eyes met hers and the heat in her blue depths told him she’d felt the electricity, too.

  “I’ll pour,” she said. But the bottle remained where she’d placed it.

  “Wine isn’t really what I want right now.”

  “Me neither.” Rachel took a step forward, the bold look in her eyes reassuring him, telling he’d been right to stay. This wasn’t a woman succumbing to loneliness. This was a woman who knew her own mind, a woman seizing the moment, a woman finally willing to let go of the past and take a chance on the present.

  Derek was determined to make this experience wonderful for her. He would give her no reason to look back with regret. “Are you protected?”

  Her blank look sent red flags popping up.

  “Are you on something?” he clarified. “I don’t have any condoms with me and I don’t want you, er, us, to have any pregnancy worries.”

  A tiny smile lifted her lips, though the look in her eyes remained serious. “No worries. I’ve got that base covered.”

  “Good.” He tugged her toward him, linking his arms lightly around her waist. “Tonight is going to be perfect.”

  “Perfect?” Rachel chuckled, a low sexy sound from deep in her throat. “You’re setting the bar pretty high, mister.”

  “Because of you.” His voice was husky, barely recognizable. “You deserve perfect.”

  “I don’t need perfect,” she said, her eyes dark with need. “I need you.”

  He tilted his head.

  “Wait.” Color flooded her cheeks in a warm tide. “That didn’t come out quite right.”

  Derek fought to keep a smile from his lips at her distress. “Low standards. High standards. What matters is you want me.”

  “I do want you,
Derek.” Her hand cupped his face. “But I’m a little…scared. I haven’t been with a man since T—”

  Derek slanted his mouth across hers, stopping the name from being spoken. He accepted that Tom had been a big part of her life. But Tom didn’t belong in this room with them.

  This was Derek’s time, his and Rachel’s. Three was definitely a crowd.

  “There’s absolutely nothing for you to be concerned about.” His hand flattened against her lower back, drawing her up against the length of his body. “You’ll set the speed.”

  Rachel’s heart skittered in her chest. She was really going to do this. They were going to do this.

  He lifted one hand and brushed the hair back from her face with a gentle hand. A look of tenderness filled his eyes. “Remember, we’ll take it as fast—or as slow—as you want.”

  Their eyes met and a smoldering heat flared. She moved her arm so his hand slid down to hers. She gently locked their fingers together.

  Should she kiss him? Take off her clothes? Forget this madness?

  The testosterone wafting off him in waves made it difficult to think.

  “Let’s sit for a moment.” Rachel pulled him to the sofa, relieved when he dropped down beside her. But once there, the need to say something, to break the tension-fraught silence, pushed at her. A nervous laugh slipped past her lips and she found herself chattering. “This reminds me of when I was in high school and a boy would come to the house. My parents always insisted we sit on the living-room sofa, in plain sight.”

  “Were they afraid the guy might kiss you? Like this?” Derek’s gaze slid from her eyes down to her mouth, and he leaned slowly forward.

  Rachel held her breath.

  His lips brushed softly over hers, once, twice, with a teasing gentleness that immediately made her want more.

  “I think they were more afraid he’d kiss me like this.” She pressed her mouth against his, sliding her tongue over his lips.

  Derek responded, changing the angle of the kiss, deepening it. The passionate kiss soon had her heart racing. She clung to him with open hunger, her earlier hesitation burned away by the heat building between them. His mouth devoured hers, leaving her trembling with desire when they finally came up for air.

  “Wow,” he said.

  “Double wow.”

  “I can see now why your parents kept you in sight,” Derek teased.

  “Kissing wasn’t all that worried them.” Rachel batted her lashes. She was being shameless, but God help her, she couldn’t remember feeling this turned on. “Touching—they absolutely forbade any touching.”

  “Touching…like this?” Derek placed his hand over the front of her shirt, cupping her breast through the fabric.

  His stroking fingers sent shock waves of longing coursing through her body. Rachel swallowed a moan. “I think it was more the skin-to-skin stuff. Stories they’d heard of boys unhooking a girl’s bra and—”

  “Getting to second base.” Before Derek had finished speaking, his hands were under her shirt and the front clasp of her bra hung open. His fingers lifted and supported her yielding flesh as his thumbs brushed across the tight points of her nipples.

  Oh, yes. She bit down on her bottom lip to keep from crying out. This was definitely something that would keep a parent with a teenage girl up at night.

  “If they were concerned about the touching,” Derek said, “I bet they were also worried about this.”

  He pushed her shirt up, exposing her breasts to the firelight’s glow. Desire deepened the blue hue of his eyes. “You are so beautiful.”

  Just when Rachel thought she was going to have to beg him to touch her, his hands spanned her waist. He ran his palms up along her sides, skimming the curve of her breast. She held her breath. Her nipples stiffened, straining toward the remembered delight of his touch.

  He bent his head to take one of her breasts into his mouth. The powerful pull caused every nerve ending to quiver in delight. A desire to give him the pleasure he was giving her rose inside her.

  Rachel longed to run her hands over his body and feel the coiled strength of skin and muscle beneath her fingers. She yearned to taste the salty sweetness of his flesh. Most of all, she wanted to feel him inside her. Now.

  Once admitted, need became a stark carnal hunger. “Naked,” she said.

  He lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss in the palm, letting her feel the soft stroke of his tongue.

  “Agreed,” he said.

  It quickly became a race to see who could get rid of their clothes the fastest. Rachel beat him by several seconds. As a reward, she let her gaze slide over him. Her lips lifted with female appreciation. The lean build, the muscles in his arms and legs sculpted from years of sports, the light dusting of hair on his chest. Her eyes, which seemed to develop a mind of their own, dropped lower.

  Rachel swallowed once…and again. Derek was definitely an All-Star.

  He cleared his throat.

  She jerked her gaze to his face and found him grinning.

  “This—” he gestured to their nakedness “—is what parents worry about.”

  With a thudding heart, Rachel stepped close, placing her hands on his shoulders. She looked into his eyes, her gaze steady. “We’re adults. We’re alone. And I really, really, really want you inside me.”

  Rachel didn’t remember moving, but the next thing she knew, she was in his arms and they were lying on the soft rug before the hearth.

  He kissed her lips over and over while one hand cupped her breast and a thumb rubbed across the swollen tips. Fire shot through her, diving down low in her belly. Her heart hammered and her tightly held control unraveled when he substituted his mouth on her breast and moved his hand between her legs.

  She caught her breath as he slid two fingers inside. Her muscles tightened around them.

  “Oh,” she moaned, pressing herself against his hand, wanting more, needing more.

  He kissed her again and brought his thumb into play, brushing it lazily back and forth.

  Rachel opened her legs wider in an invitation as old as time. “Please, Derek. Please.”

  She didn’t need to ask again. Seconds later, he plunged inside her.

  At the first intimate stroke, a shudder raced through her.

  He froze. “Did I hurt you?”

  “Only in the very best of ways.” She looked into his eyes. Her gaze held his. “Don’t you dare stop.”

  He grinned and slowly began to move in and out until the tightness eased and her entire body throbbed with pleasure.

  “More,” she said in a voice she didn’t recognize. “Harder.”

  He stroked hard and fast and she stretched and undulated in rhythm with him until their bodies were slick with sweat. She loved the way he felt inside her, filling her completely, rubbing her intimately.

  The scent of him, the feel of his body was all that mattered. The pressure inside her grew. He must have sensed her mounting need because he pumped harder, faster, until every nerve ending in her body burned like fire.

  “I love…the way you make me feel.”

  Had he spoken? Or had she? Did it matter?

  The shuddering began deep inside her midsection and worked its way out. Her thighs trembled, her hands shook. The passion she’d kept buried fireballed. She never felt anything so intense before. A long deep moan vibrated in her throat and she clutched him tighter, wrapping her legs around his hips. She felt Derek’s release, heard him cry out her name as he drove deeply inside her one last time.

  Still intimately joined, she lay beneath him, wrapped in his arms while their racing hearts beat as one. Finally she spoke. “I have one question for you.”

  He lifted a brow.

  “Want to do it again?”

  He smiled and let his actions be his answer.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Not that one.” Mickie stood in the doorway to Rachel’s bedroom and shook her head. “It makes you look like an old lady.”

  Rachel
gazed into the mirror at the dress she’d pulled on to wear to church. She’d gotten the dark floral print on sale several months ago but hadn’t worn it. Because Derek would be escorting them to church, she wanted to look her best.

  Old lady.

  She stared into the mirror with a critical eye. Perhaps Mickie was right. “Okay, I’ll find something else.”

  “Wear the blue dress. The one made out of that stretchy material,” Mickie urged from her position on the bed. “It makes your boobies look big.”

  “Now why would I care about that?” Rachel asked in surprise.

  “Because boys like girls with big boobies,” Mickie said. “And you want Mr. Rossi to like you, right?”

  “Where did you hear that about boys liking girls with big boob—er, breasts?”

  “Aunt Amy used to say that all the time,” Mickie said. “She wore those push-up things to make hers look bigger.”

  Rachel paused. There were so many directions she could take this conversation, but the service started in less than thirty minutes, so she decided to keep it basic. “Honey, what men are really looking for is women who love them for who they are, who will stand beside them in good times and bad. Someone who not only makes their heart beat faster, but who will be their best friend. Understand?”

  Mickie appeared to consider the words for several seconds, then shrugged. “You’d better hurry. Mr. Rossi will be waiting for us.”

  “Give me five minutes.” Rachel’s fingers flew as she unfastened the floral print, then let it drop to the floor.

  “So which dress are you going to wear?” Mickie asked as Rachel opened the closet.

  “The one you suggested, of course.” Rachel shot Mickie a wink as she pulled the dress from its hanger. “I love the way it makes my eyes look.”

  Derek cast a sideways glance at Rachel while everyone else was praying. He wondered if she realized how sexy she looked in that blue dress.

  It didn’t surprise him that his thoughts had turned to sex. Since he’d left her place yesterday, all he’d been able to think about was her, what had happened on that living-room rug…and how he’d almost blown it.

 

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