Clutch & Taylor: The Wedding (Custom Culture Book 6)

by Tess Oliver

  Nix elbowed me. "Do something, Mr. Hero."

  "Hey, you guys started this. If Taylor and I weren't on the outs, I'd cash in one of my Viking cards. I'd storm into that slumber party, toss that woman over my shoulder and carry her off to my lair." I picked up another cookie. "But can't do that now."

  Nix turned to face me and leaned his arm on the counter. "Did you just say you had a Viking card?"

  "Not literally," I said over a mouthful of cookie. I swallowed. "I mean there's no actual card. It's just—" I glanced around and their faces all seemed just a little too eager for an explanation. I wasn't going to hear the end of it. "Never mind."

  "Oh no, big brother," Rett said. "Explain just what the hell a Viking card is and then tell us how to get some."

  "You can't. Your nicknames aren't Viking." I finished the cookie and gulped a milk chaser. "It's no big deal, and it doesn't leave this kitchen counter." I pointed at Nix who put up his hands to assure me it wouldn't. "Every once in a while, when I'm not in the mood to practice my gentleman-like skills—" That comment earned a round of laughter. "Anyhow, if I'm in the mood to be, you know, a little more barbaric than usual, then I tell Taylor I'm cashing in a Viking card. I figure I should occasionally live up to my nickname."

  I finished the story and glanced around at the stunned expressions.

  I shrugged. "Hey, don't beat it until you try it. Which you can't because you aren't Vikings."

  Nix shook his head. "All this time I thought I knew you, and you had this whole secret barbarian life going on."

  Dray groaned for the hundredth time that night. "That's it. They've started the pillow fight. I think I'll skip the leap to my death and head straight to the liquor cabinet. Who's joining me?"

  Nix and Rett followed, but I stayed behind just a second longer to catch another glimpse of Taylor in her light blue flannel pajamas. She caught me standing in the kitchen watching her. She flashed me a faint smile in return.

  Damn, I needed her back in my life.

  Twenty-Four

  Taylor

  Best laid plans almost always get screwed by some unforeseeable impediment. Only in the case of our slumber party, it was all too foreseeable. The neatly stacked pile of chopped wood ran out quickly, and none of us were willing to brave the cold outside to get more.

  "Oh my gosh, I'm a wimp," Scotlyn muttered above the edge of the quilt she had pulled up to her face. "How do people live in brutal climates? Just think, people actually live in Alaska. And they survive."

  "Yes, but a person who lives in Alaska would think our three digit summers are brutal." Cassie's voice trembled along with her chin.

  "Screw it. Uncle. Uncle. Uncle." Finley pushed off her quilt. "I've got a big, beautiful man stretched out in the bedroom down the hall who has heat radiating off every inch of his body. Sorry mates, I'm waving the white flag." Finley scurried in her pajamas down the hallway to Rett's bedroom.

  Scotlyn hopped up too. "I'm right behind you, Fin. Different destination and different heat providing man, of course," she added as she grabbed up her pillow and shuffled away.

  Cassie was silent as she stared up at the ceiling.

  I turned over and looked at her. "Cass, don't worry about me. Go to Dray. Really."

  She turned her head without lifting it from the pillow. "I’ll feel like a turncoat if I leave you out here alone."

  "No, that's silly. Besides, I have my own room, remember? It has to be warmer than this floor. And I've got some extra socks to pull on." I sat up. "Let's go before we freeze into popsicles." Cassie and I climbed out of our blanket cocoons and immediately turned the quilts into oversized shawls.

  The long hallway was lit with intermittent night lights, reminding me of an airport runway.

  "I noticed that Clutch and you have been busy exchanging secret glances," Cassie's whisper was nearly lost in the vast corridor.

  "So I guess secret is the wrong word." I shrugged. "It's hard being in the same house and pretending that we aren't a couple. It feels as if we've been together forever. I can read his thoughts, and I know he can read mine."

  Cassie stopped outside the bedroom she was sharing with Dray. "And what are his thoughts saying?"

  I took a deep breath and almost expected to see a puff of white air follow. "I think the same thoughts I've been having. Life's not the same without my best friend and lover."

  Cassie lifted the corner of her blanket shawl and hugged me. "I know it will all work out. Good night." She disappeared into the bedroom, and I was left standing alone in the hallway. It was dark and cold. I felt incredibly lonely. I wanted nothing more than to climb into bed with Clutch.

  My bedroom was around the corner and up to a loft level. Clutch's bedroom was back the direction we'd just walked. It took me all of a second to decide. In truth, my feet started moving even before I'd decided. I scurried on my sock covered feet to Clutch's bedroom.

  I clutched the blanket tighter around me, not so much from the chill in the hallway but from the sudden case of nerves. I reached his door and lifted my hand to knock. I stopped with the terrifying notion that he wouldn't be glad to see me. What if he didn't answer at all? I decided to stop over thinking it.

  I knocked on the heavy door. There was no answer, but that wasn't terribly surprising. Clutch was a heavy sleeper, especially after a night of beer and whatever else the men got into in the liquor cabinet. I was freezing my butt off and wasting my time. Waking Clutch from a dead sleep was like waking a bear from hibernation.

  As I turned, the floor under my feet creaked. But I hadn't caused the sound.

  The bedroom door opened. I couldn't remember ever seeing Clutch in pajama pants. They were slung low over his narrow hips. Even in the chilly house, he hadn't bothered to pull on a shirt. It sometimes took me a moment to consider that he was real. His shoulders easily spanned the doorway as he gazed down at me, seemingly just as stuck for words as me.

  I lifted my feet one at a time to keep the icy floor from seeping through my socks. A bad case of nerves prompted me to break the awkward silence. "We ran out of wood and the fire petered out. My comrades all fled for warmer ground, namely their bedrooms. I have another pair of socks, but I'm fairly certain I will lose at least two toes to frostbite before the night is up. And I know this is a little pushy of me because, you know—" I waved my hand between us and continued, knowing full well I was rambling and possibly sounding more than just a little pathetic. "But it's cold and I don't want to be alone because I can't seem to warm up and the house is so big and there are noises and it's my feet." I stared down at the yellow socks on my feet. "They are really cold."

  Clutch's hand wrapped around my arm, and he pulled me inside the room. My blanket fell away as his body pressed instantly against mine and warmth flowed immediately my direction.

  I peered up at him. "I guess it's true what scientists say. Heat flows from hot to cold. Any of those little molecules you can spare—" He stopped my rambling with a kiss.

  My body lost the rigidity from being cold, and I slowly melted into the usual heady, relaxed girl who reveled in the luxury of being in his arms. It was a type of intoxication that always took over my mind and body, a steamy, sexy high that came with the sheer power and incredible comfort of his arms. And his kiss was like ten shots of the strongest liquor. It always left me feeling as if gravity was no longer working to keep me on earth and the only thing keeping me from floating away was Clutch's embrace.

  He lifted his mouth from mine.

  Reluctantly, I opened my heavy lids. "I don't want to hash anything out tonight." I pressed myself tighter against his warmth. "I just want to be here with you. If that's all right."

  "God, baby, how can you even ask that? I'm walking around with a big fucking hole in my chest. I'm walking around like a fucking zombie. I'm not alive without you."

  I kissed him again to silence the words. The tears burned my eyes like they had a dozen times in the past few weeks. I didn't want to cry. I just wanted him.
/>   I kissed his chest. "No. Not tonight. I don't want to cry. Just warm me, please." I breathed against his skin as I spoke, and a light ripple went through his rock hard body. It was slightly wicked but I loved that I had that kind of effect on him. I loved that I could move him, my solid giant of a man, with just my breath.

  Clutch swept me into his arms and carried me to the bed. I sensed a great tension in his muscles as he lowered me onto the mattress. I knew him. I knew he was gritting his teeth to keep from ripping the pajamas from my body. With the self control of a saint, he lowered himself onto the mattress next to me. He usually struggled with small buttons between his large callused fingertips, but he deftly opened my pajama top.

  "Loved the corset, but I'm finding flannel just as sexy right now." His long hair brushed my skin as he lowered his mouth over my breast to suckle my nipple. I combed my fingers through his hair as I held his head against me. His hand slid down my belly and beneath the waistband of my pajamas. It had been so long and I badly missed his touch. My pussy surged with hot moisture, and my body heated with wanting him.

  Slowly, the chill in the air was replaced by our warm, steamy breaths. A glowing heat radiated from his body and his hand as he nestled his fingers into the folds of my pussy. My legs relaxed and dropped open, inviting him to impale me with his touch as his tongue swirled around my nipple, teasing it into a tight bud.

  He lifted his mouth to mine, and I tangled my fingers farther into his hair. I was never letting go again. That's all I could think as his mouth devoured mine. I was never letting him go again.

  I mewled against his mouth as his finger plunged inside my slick pussy. I was in such need of him, I nearly came against his hand. I arched my back so that my breasts could rub against his chest. The friction warmed me even more. The chill in my bones was a distant memory. I squeezed my thighs around his wrist and rocked against his hand.

  "Yes, fuck yes," I moaned against his mouth. My pussy tightened and waves of pleasure pulsed through me as his hand took me to climax.

  "God, baby, I've missed this pussy. I've missed this mouth." He kissed me again. His mouth moved to my chin, down my neck and along the hollow between my breasts. He stopped at my belly button, and I giggled as he circled it with his tongue. He straightened, causing the king sized bed to shift beneath his weight.

  He stared hungrily down at me and then squinted one eye. "Are those goats?"

  I nodded. "Yep, my goat yammies. You like 'em?"

  "I think I've already confirmed that. But I like what's underneath them best of all." With one swift movement he had my pajama bottoms off and draped over the end of the bed.

  Clutch knelt between my thighs and gazed down at me with a hurricane of emotions. I reached up and took hold of his face. "Not tonight, remember. Just make love to me, baby."

  He lowered himself over me, always taking care to rest some of his weight on his arms to keep from crushing me. He kissed me as he pushed his cock inside of me. He moved against me only a few times before a deep groan rolled up from his throat and he came.

  Clutch rolled over to his side and pulled me against him. We reached down and yanked the covers up to our chins. "Did that do the trick?" he asked. "Did I warm you up enough?"

  "Hmm, not sure. Might need another round of heat soon. It's pretty darn cold in this house. Maybe it's just too big to keep warm."

  "Yeah." He kissed my forehead. "And the thermostat might have been tampered with a little bit."

  I peered up at him. "Oh really? And whose idea was that?"

  His chin shifted back and forth as if he was considering whether or not to answer. "Might have been mine. But in my defense, I was just getting tired of hearing Dray whine." He wrapped his arms around my body. I melted into the warmth. "I had no idea my devious plan would benefit me."

  "And me."

  Twenty-Five

  Taylor

  "Hey, sleepy heads, you're missing French toast," Dray yelled as he burst into the bedroom with a plate on his palm. I yanked the covers up to my chin.

  Clutch didn't open his eyes or lift his head from the pillow. "You must have woken up feeling immortal this morning."

  "Nope, just feeling really good." Dray winked at me. "If you know what I mean. And it seems you two are feeling just as good." He tapped the side of the bed with his foot. "We're all heading to the slopes early so we can beat the long lift lines." He sat on the edge of the mattress.

  Clutch still hadn't opened his eyes. "Dray, that better not be you sitting in bed with me."

  Dray hopped back up. He picked up the fork on his plate and stabbed it into a piece of toast. "Does that mean you don't want your breakfast, cuz I worked up a big appetite last night."

  Clutch grunted as he opened his eyes and pushed up to his elbows. "Yes, you had sex last night. We got that."

  "Thanks to your plan." Dray's eyes shot toward me. "Oops." He shut his mouth around a bite of French toast.

  I kept the blanket tucked under my chin as I sat up. "I already know all about the thermostat caper. Very clever. Now please get out of here, so I can get dressed."

  "Right." Dray headed to the door with his plate.

  "And keep your fucking paws off my breakfast," Clutch reminded him as he walked out.

  I used the moment to slip out from under the covers. The room was colder than I anticipated. I hugged myself as I hunted the room for my clothes. Clutch said nothing as he watched me collect my pajamas.

  I picked up the shirt and pulled it over my shoulders for warmth.

  "I was hoping you'd crawl back into bed."

  "Do you smell that French toast? I'm starved. I'm going to my room to get ready." I was making small talk as I pulled on my pajama pants. It was much easier than engaging in the big talk, the conversation we badly needed to have, but that I badly wanted to avoid. At least for this weekend.

  "Don't you think we should talk, Taylor?"

  I busied myself with the buttons on my pajama top. It was easier than looking at him. "Yes, but not here. Not in this house with all of our friends right downstairs enjoying breakfast and energized for a day of snowboarding. Let's not do this here. Let's just finish the weekend as if everything is fine." I scurried toward the door. I had only one angle for my side of the argument, and it was a weak angle. My track record wasn't perfect, and I didn't know how to erase what I'd done.

  "Taylor," he said quietly as I reached the door.

  It seemed I hadn't made a fast enough escape. I swung around. His face mirrored the ache in my chest, an ache that wasn't relieved by the night we'd just spent together. There was only one thing that could lighten the pressure.

  I wrapped my arms around myself. "I need you to trust me. That's all I've got. I don't have a good defense for why you should trust me other than I've grown up and I love you. But without your trust, we can't move forward."

  Even in the king sized bed, he looked giant, as if it was barely enough bed for him. He stared at me without a response. I took his silence as my answer and walked out into the cold hallway with an even colder knot in my stomach.

  Twenty-Six

  Clutch

  An early start was just a pipe dream in a house filled with friends who were on a weekend away from work and the hassles of everyday life. By the time we'd gotten dressed, eaten and cleaned up and packed our gear in the two cars, it was late morning.

  The parking lot was packed, and the lift lines were long by the time we pulled up to the resort.

  Taylor seemed determined not to talk about our relationship during the weekend trip. She was, of course, right. It was hard to have any kind of deep, meaningful discussion with all of our friends hanging around. The weekend had been set aside as a few days to relax and have a good time. And that was my plan too. I stared ahead at the lift line snaking around the entire lodge and wondered just how much relaxation and fun there would be on the crowded mountain. California had a short ski season, and it seemed every person with a pair of skis or snowboard had ended up at Heaven
ly Valley for the day. Friday night I'd had to literally somersault into the air to not crush a young skier who had coasted into my path. I could only imagine how many dangerous situations would arise on a ski slope that looked like an eastbound Los Angeles freeway at quitting time.

  The women, who had gotten used to the idea of man-free time, had driven separately. I could see Taylor's lavender beanie up ahead as they shuffled behind the others skiers heading to the line.

  Nix sighed long enough to produce a curl of white air. "I knew we were taking too damn long to get out of the house. An hour earlier and this line would have been half as long. And look at the hill. It reminds me of ants swarming a mound of sugar."

  Rett unzipped his coat. "I think the crowd is actually raising the temperature out here. That powder will be slush by the time we leave the lift. Next time we should stay at Nicky's place in Aspen. It's less crowded."

  We all turned to look at him. "He's got a place in Aspen too?" Dray asked, with some level of disgust. "How is that fair? The guy squeezes into black leather pants and belts out some rock songs and he owns a fabulous house in every cool part of the world. I bust my ass mopping sweat off the gym floor and blood off the octagon mats, not to mention busting up fights between hot heads who think they are more badass than they actually are, and I can barely afford the mortgage on my crummy two bedroom house. Life sure is unbalanced." His mouth turned down in a frown.

  "What happened to the annoying fucking spreader of cheer who barged into my bedroom this morning?" I shuffled my foot with the snowboard forward as the line inched up.