In From the Cold (10 page)

It was divine. It was torture. I could feel my come on the tip, the weight of her gaze studying it. Would she? Would she? I closed my eyes and then I felt her tongue touch my tip.
Dear God.
She would. She did. I moaned as if my soul had cracked. I was going insane. I knew it.

Then her lips were on me, her tongue stroking, swirling, her lips using just that little bit of pressure, playing me like a virtuoso. I had no brains, no thoughts, just feeling—the cool fiery bliss of her lips and tongue on me, teasing me, sucking me, pulling me in. I had to have her, had to have more.

“Claire,” I growled. “I have to…”

“Not yet.” I could feel her lips curl into a smile around my cock.

Oh God.

I put my hands on her head, feeling her rhythm build, my need escalating as she took me deeper, sucking harder. She cupped her hands around my balls, so gently, kneading and stroking, her other hand curled around the base, squeezing, stroking…

“Claire!” I gritted out, in agony, in ecstasy. “Fuck!” My cock exploded, my come pulsing into her warm mouth, pouring into her throat as she sucked me in. Again and again my cock pumped, her teeth barely touching my over-sensitized skin. I swear I touched heaven.

My body still rippled with aftershocks of pleasure. She released me, giving my sated cock a tender kiss, then perched her chin on her hands folded on my stomach and gazed up at me.

“You like?” she purred.

I nodded, unable to form words yet. We lay for another minute, while my brain tried to reboot itself. I pulled her to me and held her tight. I wanted to keep her right there, always that close to me.

But she had other ideas.

She rolled off the bed and hurried into the bathroom. I heard her turn on the water in the tub, then felt the edge of the mattress dip as she climbed back in beside me. Her warm arm reached across my chest, her head cradled on my shoulder, her leg twisted over mine. I nuzzled her hair and she shivered, rubbing her cheek against me, snuggling closer. I didn’t know how this could feel any better, any righter. And I knew with certainty that I wanted this woman here for a long, long time. Despite my past mistakes and heartbreak, I was certain that with her, it could work. That this was different.

And prayed that I wasn’t a complete fool again.

Her blowjob had been masterful, but the feel of her in my arms, soft and languorous, had my cock twitching again. Just the thought of her warm wetness one slide of my hand away had my boilers burning. Besides, it was my turn again.

“Let’s go sit in the tub,” I murmured into her hair, my hands pressing her against my hip, then rolled her on top of me, my arousal hard and growing. She wiggled against me, sending a surge of pleasure to my cock and balls, my buttocks tensing. God, she turned me on.

I took her face between my hands, holding her still, studying her. A catalog of her features still couldn’t describe her. Dark eyebrows, soft blue eyes, regular lips, high cheekbones, ordinary eyelashes and nose—individually, nothing special. Yet when I looked at her, she was extraordinary. I wanted her so badly it stole my breath.

I picked her up and carried her into the tub, sitting with her nestled on my lap. I poured shampoo into my palm and lazily washed her hair, massaging her scalp, dragging my fingers through her locks. Then I soaped up my hands, sliding them over her neck, her back, caressing her breasts, her abdomen, massaging my fingers through the warm nest of her sex. I pulled her to me, her back to my chest and played her, my fingers rubbing up and down her clit, sliding into her cave with slick fingers. She moaned, and I ran one hand up and down her inner thigh, my other hand squeezing and teasing her nub. My cock was hard and aching, rubbing against the delicious crack in her ass. I pulled a towel from a pile near the tub, making a pad for her under the water.

“Turn around,” I murmured, and situated her on her knees, her ass in the air, her elbows resting on the low shelf. I moved behind her, my fingers sliding across her lovely pink bottom. I swept my fingers inside her again, and her wetness almost made me come right there. I slid my shaft between her cheeks, then slowly, achingly, pushed inside her tight, hot sheath.

Bliss.

I stroked her, in, out, one hand on her hip, the other on the small of her back, guiding her, urging her as she pushed back on my rod, taking me deeper. I followed her lead, determined to pleasure her out of her mind. Her moans maddened me, and I pushed harder, faster, our rhythm a dance as she teased my cock, wrapping and squeezing it, until the building pressure was more than I could bear. My ears were ringing, my teeth gritted in the drive to fill her, claim her, take her to the peak with me.

“Honey…honey…” she begged.

“Come now, baby. Come!” I yelled.

“Drake!” she moaned, and I felt her spasm around my cock, pulling me with her. I spilled into her, my body rigid behind her, her sweet pussy clenched as she bucked beneath me, her ass pressed into me, her back braced in tense climax, squeezing me deliciously. The aftershocks rippled through me, until slowly our bodies relaxed, our muscles loose and lethargic. I felt her start to slide, so I pulled her up, then turned and settled her on my lap. I tucked her head under my chin and ran my hand over her hair.

“Oh baby,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” she whispered back. “Yeah.” We were both beyond words. We sat there, spent, happy to cuddle together.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” I murmured in her hair, needing her in my bed. The closeness I felt with her was too new, and I was so tired of sleeping alone. Any distance, even down the hall, felt too far away.

She ran her finger along my jaw, my face scratchy with evening stubble. “What about the girls?”

“We can still hear them in here. I listen at night, you know.”

“You do?”

“I have a monitor hooked up in their room.”

“I didn’t realize.” She searched my face, ran her fingers along my scalp line. Even now, when I didn’t think I could move, her barest touch made my cock twitch. “You’re not what I thought you were.”

“Considering how we first met, that’s probably a good thing.”

“I suppose you’re right.” She grinned and tweaked my nose. “I like you, Drake Driscoll. I like you a lot.”

“And I like you, Claire Iverson. A lot.”

I stared at her, capturing the moment, her face next to mine, her eyes soft and warm from our lovemaking. I kissed her on the forehead, her nose, her mouth. I wanted her with me, beside me, through this night and those to come.

“Let’s go to bed,” I said. We slowly climbed from the Jacuzzi, dried one another off, and holding hands, fell into the bed together. I wrapped her in my arms, content and complete, and we both snuggled in for a long winter’s nap.

Chapter Eleven

Claire

I woke up in Drake’s bed in the pre-dawn darkness. I loved the feel of his warm bulk beside me, his arm around me, and I burrowed in closer, spooning my back into his chest. Sleepily, his hand slid down my hip, then back up, cupping my breasts, his lips nuzzling my neck. He smelled of warm, aroused male, a scent heady and captivating. My legs rubbed deliciously down his hairy calves, and I nestled my bottom as close to his arousal as I could get. His breath hitched behind me, and slowly, he teased my leg up, twirling his fingers on my thigh as he slowly eased into me from behind, rocking gently.

I savored each inch as he filled me. I hung between waking and dreaming, as he slid back and forth hypnotically. We were cocooned in this warm chrysalis, pleasure transforming my body into something new, like a caterpillar’s subconscious yearning to become something else. One arm held me tight against him as his rhythm quickened, while the other circled my nub, rubbing faster and harder in time with his clenching ass. He pumped into me until, with a quiet urgent shiver, I broke and he froze, his soft cry at my back, his cock straining into me. He pulled me tightly to him, still not saying a word, as he ebbed inside me, connected, warm. He nibbled my shoulder, kissed my neck, held me close. It
was
a dream. It was magic.
He
was magic.

A girl could get used to this
.

Despite my desire that time stand still, however, the sun was coming up. I rolled over to face him. He lay on his back, his arm over his eyes, a secret grin on his lips. I folded my arms on his chest, studying him. His lips curled higher as he squinted at me from beneath his arm. Something in my chest fluttered. No one should be allowed to be that gorgeous, that endearing, in the morning.

“I’ve got to get up,” I whispered, twirling my fingers in his chest hair. He wrapped his arm around me, then kissed my forehead, snuggling me closer under his chin. Tears started in my eyes, and I ducked my face so he couldn’t see them.

“I hate to let you go, even for a little while,” he said. “But the girls are stirring, and I guess you don’t want them to know…?” He trailed off, playing with a strand of my hair.

“No. I’m not ready for that.” I could hear me now explaining in “three-year-old” why I was in Daddy’s bed, and cringed. I scooched out of bed and gathered my clothes.

He watched me as I dressed, his brow furrowed, but he said nothing. He knew I was right. It was too early, and what was there to say? I couldn’t bear to examine my emotions right now. Geez, I could hardly look at him without diving right back in beside him.

“Claire?”

“Hmmm?” My hand was on the doorknob, and I turned to gaze at him. His face looked open and vulnerable. He smiled, and inside, another bone melted.

“Come back soon.”

My smile threatened to break my face. “Try and stop me.”

By the time I had showered and dressed, the girls were up. After all the adventures of the day before, I thought a quiet morning would be good for all of us. We were sitting at the counter coloring when Drake sauntered into the kitchen. He wore a black fleece pullover with a white T-shirt and jeans, his hair damp from a shower. His face belied his casual manner; the way his eyes burned at me made me want to throw myself at him and bury myself in his chest.

“Hi, Daddy,” Suzie piped up. “Look what I drawed.” She held up her coloring book page for him to see, bold squiggles zigzagging all over the design.

“Wow, sweetheart. Look at the great colors. You’re such a clever girl.” He stood behind her, then looked up and winked at me. Yvette grabbed his fleece and yanked.

“Look at mine.” Her serious eyes never left his face as he leaned over and studied her drawing. Hers was as opposite from Suzie’s as it could be. Every color was completely within the lines, with no stray marks or exuberant, offhand colors. It was far too controlled for a three-year-old, and my heart ached for this fearful little thing.

Drake laid his hand on her head, then bent and kissed her. “It’s wonderful, Yvette. You’re a marvelous artist.” He looked up and caught the expression on my face, then back again at the two girls flanking him. He tightened his arms around their shoulders and hugged them both again. Suzie went right on coloring, secure in her daddy’s love, but Yvette closed her eyes, savoring Drake. I knew just how she felt.

“Do you girls know what day it is?” Drake asked.

They both looked up and, in unison, shook their heads.

“Two days before Christmas Eve. Santa comes soon.”

“Really?” Suzie squealed.

“Really.” Drake glanced at me. “So I was thinking that we ought to get ready.”

“What did you have in mind?” I asked. He looked impish, and I couldn’t help it—my heart flip-flopped again. Ridiculous.

“I have it on good authority that Santa will be available for last-minute requests at the reindeer rides today, so I thought we might go see Santa and his reindeer, then go into town and shop. Would you like that?”

“Can we get milkshakes too, Daddy?” Suzie asked. Yvette’s eyes were wide and hopeful. “We always get milkshakes.”

“Sure. Okay with you, Miss Claire?” He stood up and turned to me, his eyes smoldering with humor. He seemed so young and at ease, and I had a glimpse of what he must have been like before Wanda and Miles.

“How can I refuse?” I murmured, and realized as I gaped at this playful Drake with the hopeful eyes that there was very little I would refuse this man. My heart was rolling into the danger zone, but it was too late to catch it now.

Drake left the house for the rest of the morning on business, but came back and collected us at one. James dropped us off at the Elk Refuge, where we waited in line for a sleigh ride to the lodge. The scenery—the jagged gray and white Tetons, the endless snow, the clear blue skies—was a Christmas postcard. We passed huge herds of elk, as close to reindeer as I was ever likely to see. The cold froze our breath, and the girls snuggled between us in the sleigh, but I could feel Drake’s hand on my shoulder.

I liked that he kept touching me, and I kept sneaking glances at him. His black knit cap accentuated the strong bones of his face, his dark lashes and the clean lines of his jaw and nose. His looks were too sharp to be handsome, but so male, so breathtaking—I literally forgot to breathe sometimes. He was so much…more…than I had ever expected or dreamed of having. And I wanted him in my life with a fierceness that terrified me.

Maybe it was the moment, too perfect to be true. Maybe it was need, repressed for so long, or hope, newly awakened, but like a door opened into a burning room, out of nowhere a gust of insecurity flashed over me. All my self-doubts flamed, a conflagration of misery fed by vicious self-talk.

Idiot.

You don’t have him.

You’ve never had him and you never will.

He doesn’t care anything for you.

You’re here and available. That’s all.

And my pitiful attempts to argue with myself—that he seemed to care, the way he looked at me, the way he held me, touched me—only made me feel more pathetic.

I had to stop this. So what if I couldn’t have him forever? We had this day, this moment, but the scent of ashes from the bonfire that was Jim pervaded my thoughts. Like smoke, my doubts lingered, smudging the clarity of my new life and reminding me with acrid pungency of the devastation he had wrought. And if what I had felt for Jim had left me annihilated, what would I be when Drake walked away? Was I stronger now? Was I ready?

I did not want to find out.

At the refuge, we waited in line for Santa. Suzie went first, and Drake held my hand as we waited for the little chatterbox to finish her long list, and for Yvette to shyly confide her one or two requests. When Santa winked at me and patted his lap, I jumped on board, but it felt forced, like I was acting. Drake smirked as he let me go, crossing his arms and shaking his head.

“And what do you want, little girl?” Santa leered, chuckling. I cupped my hands and whispered in his ear, while Drake took a picture on his phone. Then the girls clamored back on Santa’s lap with me, all of us laughing and giggling while he took another picture. Drake’s eyes glowed, but my heart ached, unable to hold his gaze.

After the visit with Santa, we drove back into the town square. The antler archways were covered with Christmas lights, twinkling and reflecting on the snow in the overcast afternoon. Christmas music played around us as we wandered into toy stores, bookshops and other cute western-themed places, as we played typical tourists for an afternoon. I felt more normal again, my balance restored by the mundane pleasure of shopping. We picked up some small things for the girls, some children’s books for my niece and nephew, a novel for my brother-in-law. I even found a little something for Drake when he wasn’t looking. A silly impulse probably, but I needed him to remember our time together.

We stopped for the promised milkshakes, but the girls were tired, so we ordered them to go. We were walking back to our pick-up point when we passed a small jewelry store.

“Wait,” I said. “I’ll only be a minute.” I rushed in and quickly found some earrings for my sister. I was paying for them when I heard the bell ring behind me. Drake stood there with the girls.

“We got cold.” Drake smiled ruefully.

“I’m sorry, I’m almost done.” I handed the clerk some cash, and he counted out my change. Drake wandered over and studied a display case, the girls holding his hands. I walked over to him.

“Would you mind taking the girls on to the car?” he asked and handed the girls over to me. “I have one more quick errand.”

“Of course.” I turned and opened the door. “Come on, girls. Last one to the car’s a rotten egg.”

As we hurried down the sidewalk, I looked back and saw him framed in the window, talking with the sales clerk and laughing. I stored this image in my memory, and once more, pain lanced through me. I was in serious danger of falling again for a man I couldn’t have.

Then I saw him turn and smile at a gorgeous brunette who must have walked in when I’d been focused on him. She immediately slid her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. He smiled down at her, laughing, and I felt sick. They looked like lovers, and a tidal wave of jealousy slammed into me, my modicum of regained balance knocked right out of me. Even if he felt nothing for her, even if they were just friends, my insecurities tortured me. It wasn’t his fault. It was mine, and I couldn’t help it. The chasm between us was just too wide.

I was quiet on the way home, too disheartened to fight my feelings any longer. I would never be comfortable in his world. Even if he didn’t want Christine André, there were plenty of other women, as I’d seen this afternoon. They waited to pounce, with their sophistication and private-trainer bodies. They flirted and offered and gushed, and they made my stomach turn. I knew he wasn’t mine, couldn’t
be
mine, but somehow, despite all that, he still
felt
like mine. Jealousy flared through me, swiftly followed by despair. I simply couldn’t compete.

Once home, I fed the girls their dinner while Drake changed for his evening, a ballet performance of
The Nutcracker.
They were finishing their desserts when Drake walked in to say good night. Seeing him standing there by the table in his tux, I felt tears well in my eyes, followed hard by anger at myself. He looked like a film star from some teenybopper’s dream. Who was I kidding?

I threw the girl’s supper plates in the soapy water, splashing my shirt. I closed my eyes for a moment and gripped the sink edge, willing myself not to cry.

He said good night to the girls. He walked behind them and kissed each on the top of her head.

“Good night, my little princesses. Sweet dreams.”

“Good night, Daddy.” Suzie yawned.

“Good night, Uncle Drake,” Yvette said. He looked surprised, then knelt to her eye level and tenderly stroked her cheek.

“Uncle Drake, hunh? I love that name, sweetheart. Thank you.”

She reached over and tentatively touched his cheek with her tiny hand. I turned away and swiped at my eyes, then grabbed the sponge and wiped furiously at a plate.

He leaned over and kissed Yvette again.

“See, I told you he’d like it,” Suzie whispered and elbowed Yvette, who nudged her right back, grinning. They both yawned widely again.

“You gals finish up. It’s tub time,” I said, needing to get away. It was all I could do not to bolt to my room.

Drake walked over to me, but I couldn’t look at him. I focused on my hands in the dishwater, afraid to let him see my face.

“Claire?” He stood at my shoulder, then lifted my chin with his fingers and forced my eyes to meet his. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

He looked puzzled and concerned, but what could I say? I didn’t understand my mood either. He obviously sensed something was wrong, but now was not the time to discuss it. I couldn’t talk about my misery, and I hated feeling so out of control. It was bad enough that
I
knew how ridiculous I was being. I pulled away from him like a petulant child.

“I wish I didn’t need to go tonight.” He caressed my cheek with the back of his fingers. “I’d much rather stay here with you.”

I wiped my hands on a kitchen towel. “No. It’s good. You need to go. The other guests must be wondering where you are.”

He studied me a moment, debating. And I wanted him to…what? Stay with me? Commit to me?

Love me?

Right.

“What will you do tonight?” he murmured, and stepped in closer. His finger trailed down my neck, then slid slowly across my collarbone. I felt my temperature rise, my face flush.

Still unable to meet his gaze, I looked down at his fine leather shoes. “I’ll probably turn in early. I’m pretty tired.”

He stroked his hand around to my other ear, gently massaging the spot under my lobe. Against my will, my head leaned toward his hand, my eyes closing with the pleasure of his touch.

He leaned in and murmured, “I’ll think of you in bed while I’m away,” and kissed my neck just behind my ear. A stab of desire sliced through me, and then with a last caress of his thumb, he was gone, taking a chunk of me with him.