Caribou's Gift (7 page)

When he stood within her space, Crystal having held her ground, she peered at him and licked her lips. She might have even trembled. “I know what you’re planning to do.”

“I should hope so since it’s pretty freaking obvious.”

“I can’t afford to make another mistake.”

A part of him yearned to tell her he wouldn’t let her down. He wouldn’t screw her over. He would never hurt her like the men in her past.
You can trust me.

But Kyle was a man who’d just agreed to play the part of Rudolph. He’d already lost enough manly pride for one day. So, instead, he showed his lady what he felt.

Hopefully, she knew how to read tongue.

He’s going to kiss me.

Crystal knew it. Could see it in Kyle’s eyes and how he moved toward her, his every motion graceful, powerful, and alert. She wouldn’t escape his kiss. Didn’t want to.

Call her foolish, but ever since the moment Kyle had stepped up for them, acted the hero Gigi claimed him to be, Crystal had wanted to play the part of damsel. How unlike her to want a fairytale. She’d long ago given up hope on achieving a happily ever after. However, Kyle made her want to believe again. Like when he played the part of knight. A man with valor who still believed in protecting the innocent. A true prince.

Speaking of whom, in all the stories, didn’t the guy who saved the princess get a kiss for his efforts?

She should and almost had. Despite her anger that he’d butted in, she couldn’t help the elation as he vanquished her daughter’s fear by playing the hero and getting rid of Malcolm. In her relief, and yes, pleasure at his actions, she’d almost given Kyle a kiss back in the parking lot at Walmart. As if she needed a reason to smooch those delectable lips of his.

But she did need courage.

Her yellow belly reappeared and kept her from flinging herself in his arms, with valid reason. First off, Gigi was with them, and Crystal preferred to not indulge in that type of activity in front of her daughter. Secondly, she was scared.

Scared she would, once again, make the wrong choice.

What to do? Take a chance, or keep him at arm’s length?

For once, it wasn’t just her hormones encouraging her to give this guy a chance. After spending time with him, talking with him, and seeing how he was with Gigi, her gut heartily approved. Hell, even her cat purred when he was around. That had never happened before. Was it a sign?

What if I’m mistaken?
Could she handle more disappointment? The better question was, would she let fear dictate her choices forever?

Already, she’d spent a year living in limbo, ignoring her needs because of uncertainty and also to ensure Gigi didn’t suffer any more disruption. But was exploring the possibilities with Kyle truly that selfish? In finding the right man, a good man, wouldn’t that benefit them both?

Surely, at one point, we’re due for a run of security and happiness.

Was Kyle the man to help them both? The one who would help them form a family? To help them find a happily ever after?

Gigi certainly seemed to think so. Crystal wasn’t blind. She saw the adoration in her daughter’s eyes when she looked upon Kyle and noted the trust she placed in him. The difference between the bond Kyle had already formed with Gigi versus the one that had never existed between her daughter and Malcolm seemed so obvious. If Crystal did take the next step, she already knew things would be different.

If Kyle could commit.

He’d already proven the tough guy exterior had a chink. He might have started out thinking he was Joe Cool, but since their introduction, he seemed to have since adjusted his mindset.

Forget the Borg and their assimilation, I am mommy, and I am offering him domestication.

And he didn’t seem to mind. It seemed the more time he spent with them, the more he leaned towards a family life that included them. The more she discovered about him, the deeper she sank.

Oh god, I’m falling for him.
The revelation stunned her but also vanquished her remaining fear, which was why, when he moved in close, she held her ground, angled her head, and closed her eyes as he swept in for a kiss.

Oh my.

It took only one electrifying press of his lips.

Instant awareness shot through her, a thrill like she hadn’t felt since her first kiss. Except there was nothing to stop this embrace. No reason to cease the sensual slide of lips against lips.

Hot breaths merged as mouths parted to allow their tongues to engage in a sinuous dance. Her arms twined around his neck, and his wrapped around her torso, pinning them tight together, tight enough that she could feel the steady pulsation of his heart, the hardness of his body, and the evidence of his erection. There was no doubting his desire, their desire. Their passion…

She raked her fingers through his hair, scratching and tugging, her breath a hot pant, which he inhaled. He hoisted her so she leaned against the wall, his strength a part of him, effortless and so sexy. With his lower body, he pinned hers, rubbing and holding her in place, leaving his hands free to roam. And roam they did while his mouth plundered hers, drawing an aching desire forth.

Touch me,
she wanted to moan, but she was past coherent speech, caught in the sensations of the moment.

But he didn’t need telling. His fingers found the edge of her shirt and slid under, the rough tips a gentle abrasion on her skin. Feathering touches tickled a path over her ribcage to her fettered breasts. He didn’t let the cotton cup deter him.

Nothing screamed sexy like a plain white athletic bra. It didn’t seem to bother him. His thumb stroked over the straining peak, the barrier of fabric a sensual layer that only made the moment he shoved it upward, baring her breast, all the more exciting.

She sucked in a breath as he brushed his calloused finger over her nub. Again and again, he rubbed then pinched, which made her gasp. How could the tease of her nipple bring such erotic pleasure to her sex? Who cared? A shudder went through her as he once again squeezed.

And then he stopped.
No.
If she had the breath, she would have protested out loud.

He shifted her body, pushing her higher on the wall, which meant his lips moved out of reach of her own, but that was only because he apparently had another location he needed to explore.

“Kyle.” His name whispered out of her as his hot mouth latched on to her nipple. He sucked and twirled his agile tongue around the tip. Each tug, each suck, sent a jab of heat to her sex.

First one breast then the other. He took his time with each, exploring and teasing them as all the blood in her body boiled, all her nerve endings coiled, and her panties grew wetter and wetter.

His lips finally left both of her peaks, not that it stopped their throbbing. His mouth traced a path down her belly until it reached the button on her pants.

She didn’t see how he did it, but somehow he managed to get them undone, parted, and he kissed the top of her mound through her panties—more industrial cotton, which didn’t stop his sensual seduction.

Or would it?

When he lowered her, setting her on the floor, she almost cried out, but his lips caught hers. And then she didn’t mind because it seemed he had a reason to set her free, namely so he could shimmy her out of her pants and tear her panties from her.

One rip. One sexy rip of fabric to expose her to him.

Utterly sexy.

Bared to his touch, he wasted no time and cupped her. Cupped her moist sex with his hand while he sucked at her tongue.

She almost came.

“I’m going to taste you, Crystal,” he murmured against her mouth. “I’m going to lick you until you come.”

What sane woman wouldn’t react to those words?

Hell, she practically came. She most certainly shivered and shuddered. She cried out and clamped down on her peaking pleasure when he dropped to his knees and nuzzled her. Her sex clenched tight as his hands parted her thighs, and she felt the warm brush of his breath against her throbbing pussy.

At his first lick, she almost collapsed, but his hands caught her, held her, made her submit to the decadent torture of his tongue. Sweet, pleasurable, erotic torture.

It didn’t take long. The wet and warm licks and sucks of his mouth teased already throbbing flesh. When he flicked the tip of his tongue against her clit, she was a goner.

Only by biting her lip did she manage to keep herself from crying out. But oh how she longed to shout his name. To scream it to the world.

Wave after wave of pleasure rippled through her as he refused to relent in his sensual enjoyment of her sex.

Finally, she could take no more, and she managed to gasp, “Enough.”

With a final kiss on her tender parts, he stood and wrapped his arms around her. He hugged her, and she hugged him back, not a word spoken, just basking in an intimate moment that allowed her to gather her wits.

Now that he’d pleasured her, time to return the gift.

But when she went to slide her hands down his body to his waist, he caught them and brought them to his lips, placing a kiss on each before releasing them.

“I should go now.”

It took a moment to process the meaning of his words. “You’re leaving?” She couldn’t help the incredulity in her tone, especially since she could see the evidence of his need bulging against the crotch of his jeans.

“I told you I was different, and I’m going to prove it to you.”

“By not having sex with me?” She couldn’t help the puzzlement.

“Exactly. I know things are moving fast between us, which is probably freaking you out. I know it’s freaking me out a little. But in a good way,” he hastened to reassure. “I’m not leaving because I don’t want you because, trust me, I do.”

“Says the guy about to walk out the door.” She was still processing the odd turn of events.

“Leaving to go home to a cold shower and lonely bed.”

“You don’t have to do that.”
Really, you can stay, here with me.
She held back from begging aloud. What was wrong with her? He was trying to act a gentleman, and here she was, practically forcing him to stay.

“Much as it pains me, I have to go. You need time to adjust to what’s happening between us. To understand I’m not going to mistreat you and Gigi. That I’m a man you can count on. So, despite the fact I want to stay in the worst possible way, I’m not. Not until I think I’ve earned your trust.”

Honor? That still existed? “You’re nuts.”

“Borderline certifiable according to the army shrinks.” He grinned. “But, unlike my buddy Boris, I don’t have a thing for guns, so they let me go. However, while I might not decorate my home in weapons, I do warn you I am a techno freak. Getting together with me means putting up with wired sound to every room in the place. An alarm system that will know if a fly farts. And losing me a few hours a week to gaming with my buddies online.”

“You speak as if you’re planning to stick around.”

A sensual smile stretched his lips. “You mean you hadn’t figured that part out yet?”

Hope blossomed, a warm spot in her chest, which she’d not felt in a long while. “I was afraid to think that far ahead,” she admitted. “I’ve been disappointed a lot in the past.”

“And that’s going to change. From now on, things will be different. For you and Gigi. Fuck, I can’t believe I’m even thinking this way. A few days ago, before I met you, all I could think of was, well, myself,” he said with an unrepentant grin. “But now, I’ll be damned if the idea of a
we,
as in family, doesn’t have more appeal.”

“Maybe you got infected with the Christmas spirit. It might wear off.”

“More like I got smacked with it, and no, baby, it ain’t wearing off. I’ve made you my mission.”

“Mission?” she said with a laugh, oddly enough not perturbed by the fact that she was having a conversation, wearing only a shirt that barely fell low enough to cover her hips, with a man who’d just made her come. What a sight they must present.

“Yes, mission. I’ll warn you right now that, as part of my disorder or, as I like to call it, adorable personality trait, I tend to think of things in terms of missions.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Okay, and that means what?”

“Well for example, I’m working on mission #746: Be the best fucking Rudolph ever for one little girl.”

How ridiculously disturbing, yet cute. “I like that mission, and do you have any missions concerning me?” Coy? Yes, but she couldn’t help but ask, and not just because of her curious inner kitty.

“Plenty where you’re concerned, baby. And I am a man who likes to accomplish them.”

He waggled his brows, and she laughed. “I have to admit I’m surprised you’re only at #745.”

“That’s because every New Year I wipe my mission slate clean. I like to start the year fresh. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go attend to mission #747.”

“Which is?”

“Take a cold shower and ease my blue balls before I totally cave to temptation.”

“What if I wanted you to stay?”

He groaned and closed his eyes as he chanted, “Must not fail.”

She laughed. “You’re a strange man, Kyle.”

“Strange, yet lovable?” he said, peering at her hopefully with one eye.

“Yes.”

Apparently he liked her simple answer because he kissed her then, his arms wound tight enough to squeeze the breath from her. But she liked it, liked him, and hugged him back just as tight.

Then, just as she thought things might get interesting, he fled, still talking to her as he backed away, “Dammit, baby, you make a soldier forget himself. I’ll be here to grab you both in the morning, and we’re going to breakfast.”

“Night, Rudolph!” she shouted as he hit the bottom step and the door to outside.

She laughed at his grumbled, “I still can’t believe I’m doing that.”

As she shut the door to her apartment, a stupid grin on her face, she couldn’t help but hope this would be the best Christmas ever.

Worst. Christmas. Ever.

Blue-balled, squeaky clean, and twitchy from too much coffee, Kyle wondered at his sanity.
Why did I ever volunteer to do this? Can’t someone find me a bomb to deactivate? Or demand I run cable for all the televisions in their house?