They got home and unpacked. Luke wrestled the tree through the front door. Allison put on some Christmas music, and retrieved her ornaments from the garage while Luke made up a plate of snacks. Crackers with cambozola cheese, drizzled with honey and crumbled walnuts, and juicy chunks of pineapple wrapped with prosciutto. He brought the platter of goodies out along with two glasses of dry white wine. They were going to decorate this tree with style.
They wound more light strands on the tree than Luke thought the circuit breaker could handle, but Allison waved away his concern. Her ornaments were either purple, gold, or silver, and she gave him free rein to hang whatever he wanted, wherever he wanted. Luke interspersed hanging an ornament with bringing an appetizer to Allison, and feeding her from his own hands.
She licked at a bit of pineapple juice beaded on her bottom lip. “I never would have thought of this as an hors d’oeuvre. Simple, but delicious.”
“Easy to cater. Is Sadie having a cocktail reception before dinner?” He brought her over a cracker and placed it at her lips.
She accepted the bite and rolled her eyes in delight. Putting a hand in front of her mouth, she said, “No. Since the ceremony starts at five, she thought she’d just serve dinner at the reception.” She swallowed, and took a sip of wine. “That is some stinky cheese.”
Luke smiled. “Good, right?”
“Good to eat. Not so good if you want to kiss me later.”
“Not a problem if we both have stinky cheese breath.” He shoved a cheese-laden cracker into his mouth whole and wiggled his eyebrows.
Rolling onto her toes, Allison licked a drop of honey from the corner of his mouth. All the hairs on his arms stood up. He reached for her, but she was already back at the tree. She picked up a half-full bag of fake snow, pulled a plastic cup from its depths, and began tossing the white fluff at the tree.
“No tinsel?”
“Nope. I prefer this.” She held the cup out to him. “You want to help?”
He slid his gaze down her body. Her t-shirt and jeans hugged her curves, curves he’d become excessively fond of. She’d taken off her hoodie and boots, and Santa-red toenails peeked out from under the cuffs of the denim. Those toes gave him thoughts that had nothing to do with tree decorating.
“No, I have another idea. You finish up, and I’ll be right back.” He took the stairs two at a time. Gathering what he needed from his bedroom, he toed off his own boots and socks and pattered back downstairs.
He dumped the mound of bedding in front of the fireplace across from her sofa. For the first time he appreciated Allison’s minimally furnished living room. Space would be useful for what he had in mind.
“What are you doing?” Brushing her hands clean of fake snow, she strolled over to him.
“Making a fire.” He dug into his pockets, frowned, then caught sight of the box of extra-long matches behind the fireplace tool set.
“Uh, not with my quilt and pillows you’re not.” She bent over to grab a pillow.
He snatched it from her hand, and dropped it back on the floor. “Funny.” Luke knelt and began to build a fire from the wood in the basket on the hearth. The kindling smoked, but the newspaper burned out. He added some more paper.
“Why don’t you bend over and blow on it,” Allison suggested, her eyes firmly planted on his rear end. “I hear that helps start a fire.”
He shook his head. “Who knew that small towns held such insatiable women?”
“What? Are you disappointed in small towns?”
He bent over, gave Allison a good view, and finally got the fire started. “Nope.” Standing, he brushed his hands on his pants. “Disappointed I waited all this time to visit one.” He stepped over to her, pulled her hair out of its knot and finger-combed it around her shoulders. “All kidding aside, I’m really glad I met you.”
“It’s been a good couple of weeks,” she agreed.
“It’s about to get better.” Dropping to one knee, he fluffed the comforter and pillows before the fire, making a nest. Clutching Allison’s hips, he pulled her down to sit beside him. “I like your toenails. After standing in your kitchen all day, in boots I might add, and then running around shopping, I think your poor feet need some attention. You are about to get one of my specialty foot massages.” He hooked his fingers under the bottom hem of her long-sleeved tee and whipped it over her head.
She yelped, instinctively covering herself. “And I need to be naked for a foot massage?”
He prowled toward her on his hands and knees, a wicked smile dancing around his lips. His chest pressed into hers until she was flat on her back and he was over her on all fours. “The way I do it, you bet your sweet cheeks you do.”
He took her mouth, fast, hard. He thrust his tongue between her lips, tangled it with hers. She arched, the tips of her breasts brushing his chest, and need slammed into him. He forced himself to slow down. Breathing heavily, he inched down her body. Every bit of exposed skin was open game for his lips, his teeth, his tongue. She tasted of warm flesh, natural woman, and a hint of baked goods. Delicious.
He reached the top of her jeans, popped the button, and dragged them down her legs. She was wearing the red lace underwear again. He narrowed his eyes. She knew they drove him nuts. He started back up her body, but she raised her knee and blocked him.
Planting her other foot on his chest, she prodded him back. “I believe I was promised a foot massage. No taksies backsies.”
A growl rumbled deep in his chest, but he took her ankle and settled himself at her feet. He had all but decided that this was going to be the shortest foot rub in history when she began to squirm. Not a lot. Barely noticeable. But every couple of seconds her thighs would rub restlessly against each other, her fist would clench the comforter. And as a cat enjoys playing with a mouse, he decided to settle in and delight in her torture.
He dug his fingers deep under her arch and chafed the tender skin. He rubbed circles at the base of each toe and massaged the balls of her feet. In minutes, she was moaning with delight, melting into his hands. Smoothing his hands up her calves, he kneaded the muscles, and inched higher. Every muscle in her legs received attention. He caressed her strong thighs, working out all the tension. When his fingers danced up the inside, a new tension took the place of the old.
Allison sucked down a deep breath, and her breasts nearly spilled out of her bra cups. Luke’s mouth watered as he watched the pale swells rise and fall. His cock pressed painfully against his zipper.
Time for a happy ending to this massage.
He cupped the apex of her thighs, and rubbed the heel of his palm in soft circles.
Her eyes fluttered open, and the desire in them burned hotter than the fire.
Conscious thought gone, Luke tore off his clothes with the single-minded focus of a predator. The need to join with this woman was overwhelming. Grabbing the front of her panties, he ripped them into rags. He would buy her another dozen pairs just like them. He scraped her bra up and over her head, too impatient to work on hooks.
Allison was the one with the presence of mind to rifle through his pant pocket. She pulled out the gold foil and tossed the jeans back on the floor. With soft hands, she stroked his length once, twice, before rolling the condom down his aching flesh.
Her body welcomed his, like the embrace of a long-lost friend. Resting his forehead against hers, he sighed in relief. Being inside Allison was like coming home after a long day at work. There was no place else he wanted to be.
She clenched around him, and the nerves at the base of his spine danced.
He started to move, slowly at first, just enjoying the feel of her open beneath him, of her accepting him. She trailed her fingers down his spine so softly it almost tickled. Luke pushed his arms straight, lifting his upper body off her. He swallowed at the beauty laid out before him. The light of the fire made her skin glow. Her eyes were
heavy-lidded and burned like melted pots of chocolate. Each thrust of his hips sent her heavy breasts bouncing.
Fierce possession dug its claws into his gut. Allison’s skin was flushed and damp because of his attentions. Her sheath clutched eagerly around his goddamn cock. God help the man that Allison chose for her future mate because Luke was pretty sure he was going to have to kill the greedy bastard. No one should get to see the soft bounce of Allison’s breasts as he thrust into her but Luke. Bending, he sucked a taut nipple into his mouth and pulled.
Allison moaned, the sound better than music. Heat rolled off her body, surrounded him, and Luke didn’t care if he burned.
She stretched her hands above her head and arched, pressing more of her soft flesh into his mouth. Luke gently bit down on the nipple and lifted his head, pulling on the pebbled skin. He let it go with a pop.
“Luke.” She thrashed her head from left to right. “Please God, harder.”
Threading his fingers through hers, he gripped her hands, held them pinned to the blanket. Harder he could do. He got his knees beneath him for leverage and pounded deep.
Their faces were close, their breaths fluttering over each other’s lips, but Luke couldn’t think to take her mouth. His mind had narrowed to one focus. He slammed his hips against her, driving as hard as he could, feeling each inch of her silky walls slide around his length. His balls drew tight; the need to explode so great it almost hurt. She clutched around him, coiling tighter, making his thrusts jerky, strained. She was so close…
Luke dropped his head to her shoulder and held on. He stroked faster, and lightning gathered at the base of his spine. “Allison,” he whispered.
Her chest stopped heaving, and relief crashed over Luke. She always held her breath right before she came. She shuddered beneath him, and she gasped, sucking down air as though she’d been drowning. Her tight sheath clamped down, and he shattered. Pulse after pulse of pleasure shot through his cock as her softening walls milked him dry.
Luke collapsed on top of her before remembering she liked to breathe. Somehow gathering the strength, he flipped over, and stared at the ceiling. Gasping for air, they lay, their limbs still twined around each other. A log in the fireplace cracked, shifted, but Luke was too spent to turn his head to see if it had fallen.
Allison nuzzled against his neck. Her sigh blew cool air against his heated skin.
“What’s wrong?” He picked up a strand of her hair and wrapped it around his finger.
“Nothing.”
He waited a moment but she still felt tense, not at all how a woman who’d just experienced an off-the-charts orgasm should be feeling. “Tell me.”
She raised herself up on one elbow, bringing all sorts of interesting bits into his line of sight. He resisted the temptation to stroke her breast and focused on her expression.
“Tomorrow night. You’re really going to go out with her?” Allison chewed on her bottom lip.
He brushed his thumb across a rosy peak. It was there. He couldn’t not touch it. “I don’t think I have much of a choice. She could still make trouble for me. I need to find out what she wants.”
“You’re right. I know you are.” She twisted her lips wryly. “Still doesn’t stop me from wanting to pull out her hair.”
He leaned up and kissed her throat. “I’ll make sure she keeps her hands above the table at all times. You have my word.” He swept his lips down, brushing over her collarbone. “But if you’re still worried, I wouldn’t object if you wanted to stake your claim.”
She arched into his touch, exposing more creamy skin. “How’s that?”
“Many animals scent-mark their mates. Warns the other admirers off.” He trailed his lips even lower until he could finally nibble on the pebbled flesh that had taunted him. He was spent, probably wouldn’t be able to have another erection until Christmas, but the rest of his body still wanted her. Soft and sweet, she fed all his senses.
She sucked in a sharp breath.
“I think it will take a good night’s worth of you rubbing that sweet body all over mine, but if you work hard enough at it, by tomorrow your scent will cover me, protecting your territory.”
“So it’s all up to me whether Laurie makes a move on you, huh?” She slid her hand over his hip.
His length twitched. Hot damn. Maybe Christmas was coming early. “You’re the only thing standing between me and a certain mauling,” he said. Allison fisted his cock, and his eyes popped wide. “What do you say, sweet cheeks? You up for the job?”
One side of her mouth kicked up. “Well, it’s dirty work.” She slithered down his body, placing soft kisses on his chest and stomach as she went. “But somebody’s got to do it.”
When her wet mouth wrapped around his length, Luke just about went airborne. Damn, but did she get the job done.
Chapter Fifteen
Luke faced Laurie across a table at the little Italian restaurant where Allison had had her disastrous date. That night had only been two weeks ago, but it felt a lifetime away. Living with Allison was messing with his sense of time. It felt like he’d always been in Pineville and that his life in Chicago nothing but a dream.
Or maybe a nightmare. Luke slid his hand out from under Laurie’s—again. She took every opportunity possible to stroke his hand, to touch him anywhere she could reach. She raised her napkin to his mouth, and Luke jerked his head away. He could wipe the marinara off his own damn face.
“Laurie, what’s going on?” He tossed his napkin on the table, and crossed his arms. “You’re not trying to get back together, are you? Because that’s never going to happen.”
She leaned forward, placing her arms on the table under her chest and presenting herself for admiration. Luke didn’t feel it. After holding the most magnificent set of breasts just that morning, Laurie’s low-cut blouse didn’t do it for him.
“We had fun in Chicago,” she said. “When you get back, we could have fun again.”
Every part of that sentence made him queasy. He and Laurie were, of course, never going to happen. But that didn’t explain the dread he felt about returning to Chicago. Or to Le Cygne. His restaurant was a success for which he should be grateful.
Instead, it dragged on his shoulders like a yoke. The day-to-day operations of his restaurant wore him down, and he hadn’t realized how much until this improvised vacation.
When he had been just starting out, his main focus had been on the creative aspect, developing a menu. He’d loved that time. But with success came more responsibilities, more demands on his time to balance his budget, keeping up with the payroll, employment taxes, regulations. Keith was a great manager and had eased much of the burden, but Luke was still responsible. And after he’d been burned by Laurie, he checked every contract, purchase order, and lease renewal, taking his energy away from where he belonged—in the kitchen.
He never should have become a business owner. He’d have been happier as the head chef in another man’s restaurant.
He swallowed thickly. “I appreciate that you haven’t told anyone where I am, but that doesn’t change the fact that we didn’t belong together: oil and water.” He took a sip of ice tea. “When we get back to Chicago, the only time I’m going to see you is if you come in to Le Cygne for a meal.”
Laurie flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Fine. I was just offering you a pity screw anyway. That’s not why I wanted to talk to you.”
“Why are you here?”
“There’s still a month before the statute of limitations is up.” She narrowed her eyes and smiled. “I want to know how much that month is worth to you.”
He gripped the glass tumbler tight, his knuckles going white. “I don’t understand.” But the bottoming out of his stomach warned him that he did. That he understood how Laurie’s mind worked a little too well.
“The information I have is worth something to you,” she
said. “I’m here to collect.”
“To blackmail me, you mean.” His voice was as biting as a whip. He didn’t have to try to appease her anymore. She had just launched the first strike.
She shook her head, the curve of her lips growing. “Such a dirty word. This is a business arrangement. A simple quid pro quo.”
It killed him that he’d ever lain in the same bed with this woman. That his doing so had put her in the same category as Allison, two women who couldn’t be more different. But they had him in common, and that connection tainted Allison.
He released a deep breath and tried to rein in his temper. “I’ve never been a fan of sugarcoating. No, I think I’ll call this what it is. How much do you want?” You conniving witch. He left that unspoken, but his eyes must have spoken volumes.
She glared at him. “You’ve never understood me, never appreciated me. Even when I was working my butt off for you.” She pinched her lips tight. “Without me, Le Cygne wouldn’t be the success it is. I made it profitable. I made it run smoothly. That deal with Staghart was a bonus that I deserved and that you failed to give me.”
“Maybe I did undervalue you. But that doesn’t excuse your fraud.” Heat crawled up his neck. “You destroyed my business and took a kickback doing it.”
“If you don’t give me what I want, I can destroy a lot more.” She leaned back against the booth seat. “I know things about you. Not only where you are, but what you’re been doing while you’re here.”
Luke snorted. “What do you know?”
“I know you’ve been searching all over for a little doll.” Her voice took on a childlike quality on the last two words, mocking. “I know that you’re helping to cater a wedding with your blond bimbo. And I know that bimbo has been spreading the story that the two of you are”—she made finger quotes—“‘living together.’”
The Christmas Wedding Swap Page 18