Christmas Eve (6 page)

He discovered the candle beneath the chaffing dish had long since sputtered out. "No, we're in luck. Looks like the candle burned out just before the contents scorched."

"Oh, good. Do you have any more cherry juice?" Eve asked, surveying the ruin.

"Will maraschino cherries do?" For some unexplained reason he was reluctant to admit he hadn't prepared the dessert. "Or more rum?"

Eve laughed. Nick looked at her suspiciously, then grinned. She was not making fun of him, she was enjoying herself. To his startled amazement, he realized he was having a good time, too.

Who would have believed it possible for two virtual strangers brought together by a telephone call to so readily become compatible? He shook his head.

Maybe wonders did never cease. Until now he'd remained unconvinced, especially where women were concerned. But somehow, this tall, statuesque woman smiling at him through tears of laughter was writing a new chapter in his book.

She thinned the sauce with a quarter cup of rum, and a new votive candle quickly brought the yummy looking concoction back to a simmering boil. While she stirred the thick sauce, Nick draped a barbeque apron around his neck over his loose, short robe.

In his hurry to satisfy his hunger, he hadn't bothered to pull on pajama pants and noticed Eve admiring his muscular legs as he bent down to locate dessert plates in a lower cabinet.

And heard her breath catch.

He found what he sought and turned to set two ceramic bowls on the table. He carried the sauce to the chafing dish, slowly poured the brandy over the contents of the dish and lit a match.

"Longer ago than I care to admit, I watched my grandfather do that," Eve said as the sauce flamed.

Had he imagined the wash of longing in her voice?

"At times like this, I sorely miss the dear man."

Sensing a change in Eve's mood by her sudden silence while waiting for the flames to die, with hurried motions Nick scooped ice cream over the cherries he'd scooped into two bowls, then spooned on the thick sauce.

"Come on," he said, glancing over his shoulder to make sure she followed, before leading the way back to the living room hearth.

The robe she'd donned was much too large for her, he realized. It hung off her shoulders and dragged on the toes of her boots. Even so, Croupier began to throb. She looked like some sexy model on a lingerie photo shoot. As she walked, one shoulder seam slid down her arm, exposing the luscious crest of a plump breast.

Nick stumbled. He'd tripped over his own feet and suddenly found himself unable to walk in a straight line, his unrelenting desire for Eve the cause. The fire in the main room had all but died. Only a few glowing embers remained. He set the bowls on the mantel, piled three split logs on the embers, then turned on the blower. New flames flared, and a comforting warmth began to fill the room.

The two chairs they'd used earlier were still near the hearth, but he drew the chairs even closer together before inviting Eve to sit.

Once seated, she gazed longingly up at the mantel. Grinning, he placed a deep dish in her hands. "Here you are. Enjoy."

Before he took a seat, Nick selected one of the many Pete Fountain CD's in his collection of New Orleans Jazz. He put it into the CD player and started the disc before returning to the fire.

As a clarinet played the lively bars of "When The Saints Go Marching In," Eve ate quickly, spooning up her ice cream in time to the scintillating rhythm. She kept time by tapping her toes and Nick was delighted to see that by the time she finished the syrupy treat, her cheerful smile had returned.

He wasn't about to pry. Why should he? Like the many women who'd preceded Eve, she was just passing through his life. He cared little about what had put the somber look in her eyes earlier. She was fine now, her artless joy over the simple things like jazz and ice cream unaccountably refreshing to him. So much so, he found himself wanting to do more for her.

In a class by herself,  for tonight Eve belonged to him. He watched as she scraped the last cherry-flavored cream from her bowl and licked both sides of the spoon. Her pink tongue darted out again, teasing him, as she wrapped it around the shallow curve of the spoon. She even licked partway up the handle, causing Croupier to come to attention, and
he
was certainly no saint.

To Nick's disappointment, Eve's tongue disappeared back into her mouth and she sighed.

"Want more?"

"Maybe later," she said like a little child keeping her options open.

Nick grinned. "Ready for another round?" he asked, taking the bowl from her, then reaching for Eve's hand.

She looked taken aback.

Well, what had she expected? A man didn't pay a party girl to sleep.

He strode to the kitchen with their dishes, then hurried back to Eve.

"Sorry," he said in a guttural whisper. "I usually pride myself in possessing a modicum of sexual finesse, but I worded that poorly. I have no intention of apologizing for wanting to fuck you, though. You'll be more comfortable in the living room."

Taking her elbow, he helped Eve rise, then flipped the switch controlling the blower.

A quiet hush fell in the room.

He had discarded his apron in the kitchen, and as she placed her hand on his arm, Croupier tented Nick's robe and drew Eve's eye. She inhaled a surprised breath.

"This
is
what you had in mind, isn't it?" he murmured, making no effort to hide his need.

"It is now." Eve swallowed, her gaze warm on his face.

She reached a tentative hand out to the tented fabric and gently fondled his dick, her eyes rounded as if she were intimidated by Croupier's length. Another good job of acting, but
hot damn
, her expression made Nick feel even more of a man.

There would be no going slow this time. For the next little while, patience was a virtue he chose to ignore.

Thanks to his rampant libido, the hall seemed needlessly long and his forbearance short. Clamping his hand over hers on his arm, he changed direction and began tugging Eve down the hall toward his room, then brought himself up short.

He also prided himself on his smoothness with women, but tonight was making an ass of himself. At least Eve hadn't objected. Not yet, anyway.

As they stepped over the threshold and into his room, he wondered what it was about her that made him as eager as a horny teen with a willing virgin.

Slow down. No drive-by shootings tonight. Save those for another time
.

A sophisticated lady like Eve deserved his careful attention. He was determined to seduce her until her toes curled, making her insensate with desire before he took her this time. He'd reap his pleasure from hers.

The belt of the robe he'd loaned her wrapped twice around Eve's waist and was as good a place as any to start. She'd secured the belt in a neat bow which he quickly dispensed with to get to the present beneath all those wrappings.

Slow down
.

Nick rested his chin on her head, closed his eyes and inhaled Eve's seductive fragrance while he planned his sensual assault. He'd already invaded her space to unwrap the belt. Might as well let his hands brush her breast, a feather-light touch that incited a riot in his own blood.

She inhaled sharply. He ground his hips. Made her intimately aware of his rigid cock prodding her in the navel. In all his engorged glory, Croupier wanted to play.

So did Nick
.

He stepped back and with the gentle encouragement of his fingers, Eve's oversized robe slid to the floor. At last she stood before him, her body again proudly nude. She looked as sweet as that infamous apple her Biblical namesake had offered to Adam and twice as tempting. This Eve wore soft suede, knee-high boots.

Man, oh, man
. She sure knew how to stoke his fires. Forget those much talked about fig leaves. He was fast developing a fetish for stiletto-heeled boots.

Nick shrugged his shoulders, knowing that was all it would take to make the robe he wore start a downward slide. As the sleeves cleared his fingertips he took a bold step toward her.

Now there was no space between himself and Eve. Deeply satisfied, he gathered her into his arms. His proud cock throbbed against her flat stomach. She looked into his eyes, identical flames of desire burning in hers.

He dipped his head. Their lips met and he kissed her thoroughly.

She smiled seductively.

"Care to share the joke?" He cupped her chin in his palm.

She tilted her head to the side, gazing into his eyes. "Not on your life."

Her coquettish look made him feel boyishly alive and he kissed her slowly, so that her mouth opened for him. "You want to play?" With his fingernail, he traced the dark area surrounding her pouty nipple. Her tantalizing woman-scent already had him hot with desire.

"I'm game. You taste like brandied cherries, decadently sweet."

He eased Eve down on the bed and, on his knees, gave one of her boots a hard tug. Nick flopped back hard on his butt. The boot came off easier than he'd expected, not at all like
his
boots.

"Nick? Are you all right?" Eve solicitously leaped to her feet and wobbled on her remaining boot and a thigh-high stockinged foot to where he sat on the floor.

He sucked in a quick breath. She hovered right above him, the auburn curls concealing her cunt almost brushing his face. Certain he had died and gone to heaven, he flattened both hands on her rounded buttocks and pulled her into his embrace.

Her heady, arousing scent was almost his undoing as he encouraged Eve to sink her weight, bringing her slick clit within his reach. Like a man thirsting for drink, he buried his face in her honeyed pussy, seeking her moist sheath.

After her initial throaty response, Eve locked her fingers in his hair and began to make faint panting sounds that threatened his sanity.

She climaxed right in his mouth, then sank to her knees on the thick rag rug, too weak to stand. With some quick planning on his part she came to rest on her side with those divine burgundy nipples—miracles
do
happen—only inches from his mouth.

While Eve's breathing returned to normal, he contented himself with admiring looks and a lingering caress, her lust-flavored taste still on his tongue. But when he could no longer postpone his pulsing need, he drew a puckered nipple into his mouth, wrapped his tongue around it. Sensing the resurgence of need in Eve, he gently bit the tip just to the point of giving her pleasure, never pain.

She rolled her shoulders. Nick took her action as a sign she wanted more, for the sensual motion thrust her rounded breast more firmly against his lips. He drew the sensitive nipple and the supple flesh surrounding it deep into his mouth.

Eve moaned and let her head loll back. While he rolled on a condom, her eyes drifted shut.

She lay on her side, facing him and he placed a possessive hand on her hip, pulled her close, his action wedging his hot, engorged cock between her thighs. Slowly, she opened her eyes and to allow him easier access to her now throbbing depths, draped her still booted calf over his thigh. His heartbeat ratcheted into orbit.

Her sheath no longer constricted his penis and he immediately rammed his hard dick home.

Pleasured moans replaced her grin. "Oh, yes, Nick. Yes."

A resounding "Yes" accompanied each of his deep strokes, followed by the slap of soft leather smacking his bare buttocks, urging him to go deeper, still. She might as well have applied a whip to his butt. He raced blindly toward oblivion in an unquenchable frenzy, carrying Eve along with him for the ride of his life. They peaked together, a symphony made more enjoyable thanks to their sated moans.

He recovered first. She took far longer to breathlessly float back down, which allowed Nick more time for contemplation than he would have liked.

Damnation
.

... When was the last time he had gotten so carried away he fucked on a rug?

... Rolled around on the floor like an overheated sophomore?

... Failed to make it to the bed?

Eve's booted leg slid down off his thigh. He missed having it there. It was not until he caught himself yearning for her soft warmth, however, that he cautiously reigned in his thoughts.

This would never do. If he was not careful, these uncontrolled emotions Eve unleashed would be his downfall.

A one night stand. This is a one night stand
, he staunchly reminded himself, even though this one would likely last the entire week.

Eve rolled onto her back and sighed. Her eyes fluttered open and she gave him a weak smile. "Hi, cowboy. What's next?"

Nick chuckled. "That's what I admire. A woman who enjoys a good, hard ride."

"Is this handsome cowpoke ready to relax with me after his long hard day?"

"I've done my share of bronco busting. How did you guess?"

"Done your share of poking, too, I'll wager."

When he didn't deny her accusation, Eve laughed.

"Let's adjourn to the bed, woman. I've shared a saddle too long to consider another ride on this hard floor."

He gave her a hand getting up, then sat on the edge of the bed, pondering why he was always in a state of raging arousal around Eve...

Chapter Eight

Eve desperately wanted to believe she fed Nick’s rampant desire, but that thought caused a quiver to race through her senses and her pulse to surge.

"Come here, cowgirl."

His lust-roughened voice further excited her, and she willingly walked into his embrace. Nick’s strong arms felt so good around her, his chest a port for the storm of emotions she was powerless to control, like her quickly developing addiction to his deep voice and the sensual rasp of his skin.

He ran his hand along the smooth skin of her inner thigh. "Sit, so I can remove your other boot. And don't worry. I promise not to pull as hard this time."

To Eve's delight, he stood in all his naked splendor, and grabbed her booted foot in his hand. The boot slipped off easily. She heard it hit the floor, but couldn't pry her gaze from Nick's cock. Suddenly she stretched, wiggling her toes and giving in to a playful thought.