Holiday Spice & Everything Nice

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Holiday Spice & Everything Nice Page 6

by Conn, Claudy


  What was happening here?

  He whispered, “Tonight ended up mine.”

  I felt my eyes open wide. Was this all about control? Did he maneuver all this because I wouldn’t cancel my plans with Dee? Had no one ever refused him before? That made me frown. “Careful, Wade Devon …”

  He grinned and took my hand.

  Butterflies scurried inside my tummy. Shivers shot up my spine. Need made me wet between my thighs. What the hell are you doing, Charlie Wells? What the hell?

  Chapter Six

  SEX WITH WADE was mind-blowingly erotic.

  Whatever he did, however, he did it, kept me on the edge, and then afterwards I was amazed at how he liked to cradle me, hold me, feather my face and neck with sweet little kisses.

  I woke up to coffee. I sat up, and he actually put it in my hands.

  I eyed him through half-shut lashes. “Don’t you ever sleep?”

  “Not much, actually,” he answered. “Now up and get showered. We have to rush to make our appointment.”

  “My car is at the club parking lot …?”

  “Leave your keys with me. I’ll have someone bring your car home.”

  “Oh.” I’d forgotten—he was Mr. Rich Guy and could arrange almost anything. Then I realized what he had said before that. “Appointment?”

  “Sothers in Greenwich,” he explained over his shoulder.

  “Sothers?” I scrambled all over his bed. “Appointment with Sothers?” I was too excited to do more than babble now. “Wait, I have to go. I have to figure out what to wear—”

  He stopped in the doorway. “I laid out everything you’ll need in the dressing room. I’ve already worked out on the treadmill and showered, so it’s all yours.”

  I glanced at the clock. It was only seven in the morning, and although that was when I used to get up and grain all the horses for my parents so they could sleep in on the weekends, I didn’t do that anymore. But this, this was different. This was for Sother’s Art Gallery.

  He returned and gave my butt a slap through his white T-shirt. “Up, Charlie.”

  I looked at him and laughed. “Control freak.”

  He chuckled. “You are tempting, you know. If you stay like that in bed, I may just call off this meeting and crawl in with you …”

  “Ho-no.” I grinned. “No way am I missing out on this.” After all, we were talking about Sothers. This could make my career. But did I really stand a chance with such a prestigious firm?

  I was up and on my feet. He reached in and pulled me in and against himself. But all he did was surprise me by kissing my forehead. “Today will be a big day for you, baby.”

  “Will it? We don’t know if they’ll like my paintings.”

  “Oh, they will. I selected the very best you have.”

  “Wait, what? You selected?”

  “Yes. When I was with you the other night, I couldn’t sleep, so I went out and studied every single painting and made a selection of six.”

  That rubbed me wrong. Maybe it shouldn’t have—I knew he was only trying to help—but I am very ‘funny’ about my work. Some paintings are private. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  He looked bewildered. “Why?”

  “Wade—don’t you see that was invading my privacy? If you wanted to select some paintings for today’s showing or wanted a say in my selection, you should have told me, not just gone in while I was sleeping and taken what you wanted.”

  He stiffened and then almost immediately relaxed again. He sighed and cocked his head. “Okay, okay … I’m used to doing things my way—it’s how I operate. I’m sorry. I think, however, you’ll like what I selected for the showing. I put in the canvas of Spike, as well.”

  Now I was angry. “Spike is not for sale.”

  He put up his hands. “Okay, okay. We’ll leave Spike out of the collection.” He took my shoulders and gave me a little shake. “Charlie, this is all new to me. I want to do something special for you, and I am used to … well, if I overstepped, forgive me?”

  Those blues pleading into mine made me waver, and the anger was suddenly gone. “Sure, okay, but listen up, Mr. Control Freak. No invading of privacy allowed in this … whatever it is.”

  “Not a relationship,” he said quickly.

  I laughed. “No, it definitely is not a relationship. We … understand the fact that you are a free agent, and so am I.”

  He frowned, evidently not liking the sound of that, because he said, “What does that mean?”

  “I am assuming you are free to be with other women. That leaves me free to umm, date. After all, it is only fair.” I twinkled at him.

  His eyes narrowed. “For the moment, I don’t want another woman—for the moment. And I thought you were … satisfied.”

  I laughed and started for the shower. I wasn’t answering that one. Why should I?

  * * *

  Looking at his limo in daylight was an eye-opener. To say ‘stretch limo’ was an understatement. It was a black house on wheels.

  Between the drink, the kissing, and the night, I hadn’t realized how luxurious his limo actually was. In addition to that, I was in the company of Wade Devon, male extraordinaire. I stole a look at him and thought that Wade in his white silk shirt and cool gray Armani suit was almost as hot as when he was stark naked. It was difficult not to stare at him. Finally, he laughed and said, “It’s not polite to stare.”

  “Well, then, if you’re looking for polite, don’t look so darn gorgeous.”

  He laughed again and helped me inside the limo. Oh my, if money had a scent, it was this limo.

  Wade saw me comfortably seated before he dropped in beside me. I smoothed the fashionable, well-fitted black silk pants suit over my lap and wondered when he had had the time to pick it out. Under it I wore the soft white angora sweater, which had a narrow cowl at the neckline. I glanced up at him.

  Well, talk about staring, that was what he was doing. He said, “Charlie … you are so beautiful.”

  I smiled and then began fidgeting. This was big. Sother’s was a big deal.

  “Just sit … relax, baby.” He pressed a button, and the privacy window went up between us and Nugent, the driver. I supposed Nugent was his last name; at any rate, it was how we were introduced.

  Now it felt as though we were all alone in the limo. I began to play with the different drawers and buttons.

  He reached over, cupped my breast under the black silk jacket, and asked, “Comfortable?”

  Our eyes met, and he made a primal sound that got me edgy. His voice was husky when he said, “Damn, hot damn, you feel so good … and, Charlie, those green eyes of yours drive me crazy.”

  I wondered what he had in mind. Had I gotten all dressed up just to get undressed?

  Not exactly. He bent over and gave me a chaste kiss on the lips.

  He had told me our appointment at Sother’s was the first on his agenda. I wondered where else we were going and asked him. His answer?

  “You’ll see. I have a few things set up for us that I am fairly certain you’ll enjoy attending with me.”

  “Will I? Like give me a hint.”

  He kissed me again, this time not so chaste.

  I laughed and repeated my plea. “One little hint about one little excursion?”

  He took my hand and held it in his lap. I moved it lower and took hold of his crotch. “Please … Wade?”

  “Oh, baby … you have such delicate hands, even through the material. Holy hell, if you keep doing that, I am going to rip off your clothes and have at you.”

  “Well, isn’t that what we are supposed to be doing?” I teased. “Sex, just sex, no relating?”

  He frowned and seemed to chew on this suggestion before he said, “I don’t see why we can’t have a little, um … fun in between the sex.”

  My heart stopped beating, and when it started up again the rate was so fast I thought I wouldn’t be able to breathe.

  He looked at me, chucked me under the chin, and s
aid, “I love your laugh. I have this need to hear you laugh as much as possible, and I always attend to my needs. Remember that—I am selfish. Remember that because, Charlie, I don’t want you hurt.”

  “No hurting, but tell me what need are you attending to today?”

  “I told you, this is all foreplay. I want to give—to pleasure you … and in return you will want to do the same for me.”

  There was more to it than that. He might be fooling himself, but although I didn’t try to argue the point, I saw the lie in the words. He wanted to be with me outside the bed. I was elated but kept it to myself. I knew I could be headed for a major fall. This big, beautiful man would leave, but for the moment he didn’t seem to want to—for the moment. I hung onto that thought.

  “I already want to pleasure you.” I was surprised at the huskiness in my voice.

  “Careful, my self-control is waning,” he said on a low note. All at once he began asking innocuous questions about my parents, friends—about my education, about Sassy and how I trained her to jump. Some silly questions.

  I found myself answering and laughing as I told him the different anecdotes that went with the different answers. But when I asked about his family and friends, he grimaced. Uh-oh. Sore spot?

  “It’s complicated,” he said.

  “Complicated. Okay,” I said. Wasn’t any of my business so I didn’t pry. “Life is complicated.”

  He eyed me. “My dad is a bit of a bastard. He thinks a lot of himself. He was gone more than he was home, and my mom got lonely. Same old story. They split. I guess I was angry at both of them.”

  “Yeah, growing up is tough enough when you have everything you need,” I said softly. “When parents split, it is harder than hard for their children caught in the middle.”

  He eyed me and took my chin in his fingers. “I like you, Charlie. I like everything about you. The way you smile, the way you think, your delicious laugh, your face, your eyes—so warm, so bright with expectation—your rocking body. I want you to know that … but I am a cold-hearted man who will leave.”

  “Sure, got it. You cold … leaving. But for now you feel warm, and you’re here.” I laughed out loud. It just struck me funny. Who was he trying to convince?

  He eyed me and burst out laughing but shook his head. “I just wanted you to know that … because I like you so very much.”

  “Good. Sex is probably more fun when you like the person you are … er … sexing,” I said and felt as though I were twinkling all over with my tease.

  “And how would you know that? You’ve had only one boyfriend, and he didn’t seem to do the job for you,” he teased.

  “Oh.” I heard my voice, and it was small. Didn’t I please him? Was I not good in bed? Because he was phenomenal. What was he saying here? You didn’t need to like someone to enjoy sex? That was probably true for some, but not for me.

  He laughed. “I loved … teaching you, showing you what to do when we made love. I liked that you had never done some of those things with anyone else.”

  I studied my pretty heels. My first Jimmy Choo heels. I wondered how he had known my size and how had he gotten the clothes for me so quickly. And he had just said ‘made love’—not ‘fucked’ but ‘made love’.

  He put up my chin with his finger. “What are you thinking?”

  “I was wondering how you knew my size … clothing, heels …? How did you manage to shop in the city and get back so quickly?”

  He laughed, and it was a boyish sound. “Charlie, I do have assistants, and one of them did the shopping for me. I saw your shoe size the other night when I was in your apartment. Your suit size was a lucky guess. I had everything delivered to me.”

  “You really do get whatever you want,” I said, amazed.

  “Usually, I do,” he answered and again dropped a kiss on my lips.

  This was way more than sex. No one in that moment could have made me believe otherwise.

  Chapter Seven

  I WAS HEADED for a big old dark hole, and I would never be able to climb out. I knew it and just kept moving toward it. I knew it would suck me up—that is what black holes do, after all—and still I kept going in that direction. I was on a collision course, and its name was Wade Devon.

  He was everything I thought a man should be.

  He was my knight in shining armor. No, he was the shining armor, so bright and glittery that I felt blinded in his light. I wanted him more than I had ever wanted anything or anyone in my life, and that want was all-consuming.

  And then he arranged a meeting with Mr. Bernard Sother of Sother’s Gallery—the most prestigious art gallery in New York City.

  Jumping for joy, tummy in knots, I stood back and prayed as Mr. Sother studied my portfolio. He turned, and I saw a slow smile stretch his thin lips as he said, “Wade, my darling, Wade, you have discovered genius.”

  Like what? Genius? The wonder was that I didn’t faint when he turned and began speaking to me as though I was a rare and valued artist.

  We talked and laughed and conferred, and all the while I looked to Wade, who gave me encouraging smiles and soft, warm looks.

  He announced that we were going to do a Christmas showing in early December. He called his secretary to take notes, and he began issuing orders for the preparation of our show.

  He turned to me and said, “You will be our guest of honor, and it will be black tie.” He turned to Wade. “You will arrange for some publicity, yes?”

  “Yes,” Wade said.

  “What sort of publicity?” I asked.

  “Ah,” said Mr. Bernard, as he’d asked me to call him. I’d nearly giggled in his face when he said to call him that. “I will send out invitations to only the most select people, but in order to, shall we say, tickle their interest in a new artist … sometimes a bit of shall we call, mystery, scandal, intrigue is called for.”

  “But I—”

  “Are dating the most sought-after bachelor in all of the United States, and up until now, you have kept it a secret. I wish a hint to leak out—”

  “Oh, no. We aren’t—”

  “It’s too late,” Wade said, interrupting. “He obviously knows that we’re dating.”

  I kept quiet. I couldn’t believe Wade was willing to play this game just to help my career. It was humbling, knowing how private he liked to be.

  Well, I was on a high I couldn’t come down from, so when Wade took me to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and then took me behind the scenes on a VIP tour of all the new works that had arrived but were not yet on display, I was ready to bow down and kiss the shoes he was wearing.

  We went to lunch then, and apparently it was a favorite haunt of his, as everyone seemed to know him. He said, “And now it begins.”

  “What begins?”

  Someone snapped a photo of the two of us, and I realized. I said, “Oh no … Wade, I am so sorry …”

  “It’s why I brought you here. This is a first for me.” He pyramided his hands under his chin and stared hard at me. “You have to understand, Charlie. I have never brought a woman to this little restaurant. It’s a private place for me. I find myself wanting things I have never wanted before, but more than that, I like to make you smile the way you smiled today.”

  “Did you know they’d take a picture of us? Are you upset?” I asked, watching his face and feeling my brain explode with hope when he grinned.

  “I knew. I was sure, in fact. It is most unusual for me to be seen dining with a woman, and now the rumor mill will discover that the woman who has captured Wade Devon’s interest is also the new star in the art world. It’s what Bernard hoped for.”

  My heart took a nosedive.

  He had done this to procure me some publicity. Charlie, he told you early on to never read anything into the things he might do with you. He warned you.

  “I see,” I said, trying not to sound despondent.

  He reached over and took my hand. “Charlie …”

  “I know. Don’t read into anyth
ing,” I answered, trying to keep the sharp disappointment out of my voice.

  His eyes narrowed, but he said nothing to contradict this, and so we ordered. Because I was determined to be grateful for all his help, we began conversing lightly and brightly.

  We drank wine, we played with appetizers and drank more wine, lingered over our meal, had after-dinner drinks that went immediately to my head and set me to giggling, and then we shared a dessert that truly was death by chocolate, accompanied by more drinks.

  I was high. I am a one-drink-a-night girl, maybe two, so I was now flying in a starry sky, and it was still afternoon.

  He said, “You hold your drinks well.”

  I hiccupped.

  He laughed and said, “Okay, baby, cutting you off.”

  I grinned and hoped I would be able to stand and walk a straight line.

  He motioned for the check, signed for it, and left a couple of hundred for the staff on the table. He took my arm and held me against himself, kissed my lips lightly, and said, “I got you, baby.”

  Somehow, and without my tripping, we got into the limo.

  Wade directed the driver, Nugent, to his condo, which turned out to be a huge loft decorated in the contemporary style. All clean lines and black and white with touches of yellow. I didn’t like the total look and wrinkled my nose.

  He laughed right out loud. “I never have to second-guess you, sweetheart. Everything you think shows on your beautiful face. This, I know, is not your style.”

  I hiccupped.

  He kissed my cheek, my forehead, my chin, and then my mouth.

  A moment after that, he had my jacket off and pulled my white angora sweater over my head. I hadn’t bothered to wear a bra, and he made a guttural and sexy sound as he filled his hands with my breasts.

  “Do you know what I am going to do to you now?” His voice was low and husky.

  “Uh-huh.” I nodded.

  “Tell me,” he demanded. “Tell me what I’m going to do to you now.”

  “You are going to fuck me,” I answered and giggled.

 

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