For My Own: A Contemporary Christmas Anthology

by Alison Packard, Shari Mikels, Kinley Baker

  “I’d have to be dead not to,” she said with a smile. “How about we take care of that in the bedroom?” She squealed with laughter as he scooped her into his arms and carried her effortlessly down the hallway to her room where the several candles she’d left burning after she’d changed clothes bathed the room in a hazy romantic glow and imbued the room with a light citrusy scent.

  The second he set her gently on her feet, she reached for the hem of his shirt and, in what might have been a new world record, she had him completely naked in less than a minute. “Hold on.” She put her hand up as he reached for her. Nick tilted his head, puzzlement evident in his eyes. “Get on the bed and lie on your back.”

  “I like it when you take charge.” He shot her a cheeky grin and then crawled on the bed and stretched out. Carrie moved to the nightstand, retrieved one of the condoms from the box Nick had bought last night, and then took a moment to admire his taut stomach, powerful thighs and—oh my—that cock. There were no words to describe how much she wanted it inside her.

  “Carrie?” Nick’s voice jolted her out of her erotic trance. Her cheeks grew warm as she met his amused gaze. “What were you just thinking?”

  “That I want to fuck you,” she said, amazed at her boldness. Nick’s eyes darkened at her words. She climbed on the bed and tore open the condom package. Anticipation raced through her veins as she slowly rolled the condom over his erection and then straddled his hips. They sighed in unison as she lowered herself onto him until he was buried deep inside her.

  “You feel good.” The thick tone of Nick’s voice filled her with satisfaction. “So good I might not last very long.” Carrie smiled and leaned slightly forward to run her hands over the contours of his chest. His skin was smooth except for the neat diamond of light brown hair that felt soft and silky under her fingertips. Nick lifted his hands to her breasts and caressed them as he’d done earlier, gently brushing his thumbs over her ultrasensitive nipples until they were taut and tingling. “You are so damn beautiful,” he said, gazing up at her with reverence. “I was such a fucking idiot in high school.”

  “That wasn’t our time. Our time is now,” she said softly and began to rock her hips. Nick groaned and matched her movements as she rode him. She pushed up from his chest and quickened her pace. Nick stared at her, his eyes filled with raw sexual hunger. Moments later, he lowered his hands from her breasts and slipped one between their bodies, to where they were so intimately joined. He found her still-sensitive clit and gently massaged it. Her satisfied moans filled the room as he expertly sent her over the edge again. Her body rocked with pleasure; it was all she could do not to collapse on top of him in a boneless heap.

  “Carrie.” His voice brought her back from her sensual oblivion. She opened her eyes and met his hot gaze. “Fuck me,” he ground out in a hoarse whisper.

  Obeying his command, she began to move faster, reveling in the feel of his velvety hard cock as it filled her to her depths. He reached for her hips and thrust upward as she ground down on him. “That’s it, baby,” he said huskily and then, long seconds later, he surprised her by rolling her over onto her back. So caught up in the moment, Carrie barely registered the coolness of the sheets against her skin. The only thing that mattered was Nick. For several profound moments, he stared deeply into her eyes, and then he reached for her knee, hooked it over his shoulder and thrust deeper. Lowering his head, he cut off her soft gasp and kissed her. A deep, full kiss that stirred her to her very soul. When they broke apart, his movements became more frantic until he closed his eyes and let out a low groan of pleasure as he came. Lowering his head, he kissed her shoulder, then nuzzled her neck as his body relaxed.

  Feeling more content than she could ever remember, Carrie slipped her knee from his shoulder and cradled him between her legs. As she stroked the smooth supple skin of his back, Nick lifted his head and gave her a wry smile.

  “I should cook dinner for you more often.”

  Carrie laughed and playfully swatted his shoulder. More nights like this one sounded like heaven, but there was only one problem. Nick would be leaving soon and hadn’t mentioned one word about what that meant for them. Was this just a holiday fling, or was it more? For the first time since she was ten years old and desperately wanted a puppy, she thought about what she wanted for Christmas. This time it wasn’t a puppy. It was Nick.

  Chapter Ten

  On Friday night, just after nine, Nick was thankful Carrie’s office Christmas party was winding down. Not because he hadn’t enjoyed himself, but because ever since he’d seen Carrie in her figure-hugging burgundy dress with both a plunging neck and back, all he could think about was getting her out of it.

  The party was being held at an upscale restaurant in Auburn, which was only a thirty-minute drive from Grass Valley. Carrie’s firm had reserved a private banquet room, complete with an open bar, plenty of appetizers, and the soft strains of Christmas music coming from discreet speakers placed in the corners of the room. Despite not knowing anyone except for Carrie, Nick felt completely at ease. Carrie’s coworkers were friendly, and once they discovered what he did for a living, they had peppered him with questions about his most famous client, Trey Gentry. It seemed Trey’s reputation for partying and womanizing wasn’t as under the radar as Nick had hoped.

  “Nick, it was a pleasure meeting you.” Gillian Snow, Carrie’s friend, moved to stand beside him. “I hope we didn’t bore you with all of our legal talk.”

  “Not at all,” he assured her. “It was interesting.”

  Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled. Gillian, a striking brunette with dark eyes, and her boyfriend, a county district attorney named Ian, had regaled him with amusing anecdotes about a few of their more outlandish cases. Without revealing any names, of course.

  “As is your line of work. Although I imagine you must feel like a babysitter sometimes.”

  Nick chuckled. “Yes. A few of my clients do need some hand holding. But for the most part, they understand I’m only looking out for their best interests.” The one exception being Trey, but he didn’t want to think about that pain in the ass right now. He would deal with Trey in January.

  Gillian sighed. “If only some of ours felt that way.” A sudden smile lit her face. “Carrie, there you are. I was just saying goodbye to Nick. Ian’s bringing the car around front.”

  As Carried halted beside him, Nick inhaled her soft feminine fragrance. He had no idea what it was, but it was unique. Just like her.

  “Sorry. I couldn’t get away from McCoy.” Carrie rolled her eyes. “His wife took his keys and declared she was driving home.”

  “I told you he lets loose at these parties.” Gillian put her hand on Carrie’s arm. “Thank you so much for the necklace. I love it.”

  “You’re welcome. I enjoyed picking it out. I’ve noticed you wear a lot of silver.”

  “I’ll drop your present by your house next week. Since we’re off maybe we can catch a movie,” Gillian said and glanced at her watch. “I’d better go. Ian gets cranky when I keep him waiting. Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas,” Carrie called after Gillian. “I can’t believe I said that and meant it,” she said, looking at him with bewilderment. “What’s happening to me?”

  Nick slipped his arm around her slender waist. “It’s called Christmas spirit, and I think you’ve got it.” He could practically feel the warmth of her skin through the fabric of her dress. He lowered his gaze to her cleavage and tamped down the need to taste the creamy texture of her skin. “Let’s get out of here,” he said, lifting his gaze to hers. The air shifted and seconds passed, seconds filled with sexual awareness. Thank God, she was feeling it too.

  By the time Nick pulled his SUV into Carrie’s driveway he was about to explode. It had been almost a week since he and Carrie had been together, but it seemed like a year. They’d talked on the phone several times, and on Thursday, his mother had invited Carrie over to play Bunco with her friends. Not a Bunco fan, Ni
ck had been relegated to the den with his father where they’d watched the Sacramento Kings beat the Los Angeles Clippers. Even watching Blake Griffin dunk couldn’t distract him from thoughts of Carrie.

  Nick killed the engine and pulled his keys from the ignition. He turned and found Carrie’s gaze resting on him. The Christmas lights he’d hung on her house shone into the truck, highlighting her beautiful face with red and green hues. “What?” he asked, unbuckling his seat belt.

  “I think I might like to get a tree.”

  Nick stilled. This was a big step. Everything up until now had been external—for her to invite Christmas into her home meant something. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure,” she said with a tremulous smile. She released the latch on her seat belt. “It’s getting cold. Let’s go inside.”

  With anticipation simmering in his veins, Nick got out of the truck, rounded the front and opened Carrie’s door. She extended her gloved hand; he took it and helped her as she slid out of the seat. Nick closed the door then, unable to wait any longer, he leaned forward and kissed her. Her soft moan and the parting of her lips was his undoing. Slipping his arms around her waist, he pulled her against him and greedily devoured her lips.

  The sound of a car driving past forced Nick to pull back. He watched the car disappear and then sought Carrie’s gaze. Her eyes were dark with passion, and her lips were moist and inviting.

  “I want you,” she whispered.

  With her husky words echoing in his ears, Nick couldn’t help himself. He obeyed the primitive urges inside him and kissed her again. Backing her up against the truck, he explored the recesses of her mouth until she gave a soft moan, wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss with such wild abandon that every cell in his body erupted with need. He’d never been this hot for a woman in his life. Ever.

  Burning up from the inside, he pulled his lips from hers and nibbled a path to her neck, where he kissed the pulsing hollow at the base of her throat. She let out whisper of a gasp and trembled. She was as turned on as he was; he took great satisfaction in that. As he pressed his lips to her soft skin, he inhaled her intoxicating scent and couldn’t help but slide his hands down her coat to cup her ass and pull her even closer. His cock strained against his slacks; he wanted her so badly he could taste it.

  Lifting his head, Nick let out a ragged breath. One second longer and he would have been tempted to take her right up against the truck. Carrie unfurled her arms from around his neck and touched his cheek. Her gloves felt rough against his skin. “It’s freezing out here,” she whispered, sending breath vapors into the air. “Let’s go inside and get warm.”

  Get warm? He was hotter than hell.

  Reluctantly releasing her, Nick took Carrie’s hand and led her around the front of the Explorer and toward the cement pathway that led to her front door. About five feet from her porch, Nick saw the solitary figure of a woman sitting on the step at the same time Carrie did. She gasped and pulled him to a stop. The woman’s head was bowed but when she looked up, Nick recognized her immediately. She hadn’t changed that much in fourteen years.

  “Mom?” Carrie squeezed his hand so tightly Nick cringed. “What are you doing here?”

  “Freezing my tushie off,” Liz Jones replied in a whiskey-hewn voice. She pushed up from the step, put her hands on her hips and regarded Carrie with stern eyes. A red cap covered her head, but strands of blond hair poked out. “I’ve been calling you for over two weeks and haven’t heard a peep out of you. I figured you were either dead or ignoring me.” A wry grimace twisted her mouth. “I’m relieved you’re not dead.”

  “I was going to call you tomorrow.” Carrie’s tone was defensive. “You didn’t have to come all the way to California.”

  Liz ignored her daughter, looked at Nick and gave him a quick once-over. “You’re the boy Carrie tutored in high school? Nick, right?”

  Nick nodded. “It’s nice to see you again, Mrs. Jones.”

  “I’m surprised you remembered.” Carrie let go of his hand to open her purse and pull out her keys.

  “Why?” One of Liz Jones’s eyebrows ticked up. “Because I was drunk all the time?”

  Carrie didn’t reply and a tense silence filled the air. Nick cleared his throat. “Do you need me to stay?” he asked, turning toward Carrie.

  “No. We’re fine. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Thank you for a lovely evening.” She moved to the step, brushed past her mother and unlocked the door. After motioning Liz inside, Carrie gave him a tight smile and then closed the door and locked it.

  As the lights went on inside the house, Nick stayed rooted to the spot, more worried about Carrie than disappointed that he wouldn’t be spending the night with her. He wasn’t quite sure why, but he had this horrible feeling that Liz Jones’s arrival had changed things irrevocably between him and Carrie. And not in a good way.

  * * *

  Carrie locked the door and turned to face her mother. The past six years had been decent to Liz Jones. If Carrie didn’t know any different, she would assume her mother was in her forties, rather than her mid-fifties. Carrie pulled off her gloves, still reeling from the shock of seeing her sitting on the front porch. What was she doing here? Her mother didn’t appear to be drunk—her hazel eyes were clear and razor sharp as they homed in on Carrie.

  “Why didn’t you return my calls?”

  Bristling at her sharp tone, Carrie shoved her gloves into her pockets and set her purse and keys on the table next to the door. “Because it’s the same thing every year, Mom. You get drunk, call me, and then I have to listen to you go on and on about how horrible Christmas has always been for you. Do you think I don’t know that? I was there. I lived it.”

  Guilt flickered in her mother’s eyes. “It’s different this year.”

  “How is it different? Are you going to get drunk and go all maudlin on me in person instead of over the phone? And where is that boyfriend of yours?” Carrie held up her hand, the wounded expression on her mother’s face not enough to stop her tirade. “You know what? I don’t want to hear it. You haven’t bothered to come back here since you left so that must mean he’s kicked you to the curb. Did he get tired of your drinking? Maybe you need to find another drunk like Dad.”

  “That’s who I came here to talk to you about. Your father.”

  “Save it, Mom. There’s nothing you can tell me about Dad that will make what he did acceptable.”

  “Maybe not, but you might find some compassion for him.”

  “Compassion...for him?” Carrie’s voice rose. “What about me? Where was all this compassion when he was drunk and threatening to kill himself in front of me? Where were you all those years?” Carrie snapped her fingers. “Oh wait, you were drinking too.”

  “Carrie, I know now how badly we screwed up. Please, if you’ll just let me explain—”

  “I don’t want your explanation, or your excuses.” Carrie pointed at her, unable to contain all the hurt and anger that had been building inside of her for as long as she could remember. Pandora’s box had been opened and there was no closing it now. “You could have left him. We could have started a new life somewhere else...we could have been happy. But you stayed with him and you...you enabled him. Why didn’t you leave him?”

  Her mother spread her gloved hands. “I couldn’t. I’m the only one who understood why he was the way he was.”

  “Then why didn’t you get him some help?”

  “I tried, but every time I checked him into a facility to dry out he’d start drinking again. I couldn’t force him to quit.”

  “Because you didn’t want to quit either. Admit it, Mom. You enabled each other and neither of you gave a damn about me.”

  “That’s not true. Your father and I loved you very much.”

  Carrie blew out a controlled breath and shook her head. “You had a funny way of showing it.”

  A tense silence stretched between them until her mother tightened the belt of her camel-colored coat and
pulled a single key with a rental car company’s tag on it from her pocket. “I should go. We’re both upset and I don’t want us to say things we can’t take back. But I’m not leaving town until we talk.”

  “There’s nothing talk about. Not anymore.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Carrie. There are things you need to know, whether you want to hear them or not. I’m staying at the Holiday Inn on Bank Street. I’ll be there as long as it takes for you to hear what I have to say.”

  “You had to do it, didn’t you?” she asked as her mother moved past her and unlocked the door.

  “Do what?” Liz asked, turning to look at her.

  “Ruin Christmas...again.”

  * * *

  “What are you doing here?”

  The unwelcoming expression on Carrie’s face and her harsh tone as she opened the door only reinforced Nick’s foreboding from last night. The mother-and-daughter reunion had not gone well. Although almost noon, she was still wrapped in a red flannel robe, and the dark circles under her eyes told the tale of a long sleepless night.

  Even as the rays from the late-morning sun warmed his neck, Nick zipped his fleece jacket—an unconscious reaction from the artic chill in Carrie’s eyes perhaps. “You said last night you wanted to get a tree. I came by to see if you wanted to take a drive over to McBurney’s.”

  “I changed my mind,” Carrie replied, wedging herself between the door frame and the door, making it clear she wouldn’t be inviting him inside. “In fact, I’d like you to take the lights down.”

  Nick frowned. “Why?”

  “I don’t have to explain anything to you. I told you I hate Christmas. Trimming a tree, going to a holiday party and having lights on my house isn’t going to change that.”