Seduced

by Janelle Denison

  His heart drummed in his ears, and his entire body throbbed with each beat, pumping blood straight to the one organ that didn't need the extra stimulation. She unfastened his black dress slacks, lowered the zipper over the thickest, longest erection he could ever remember having, then grasped the elastic band of his briefs to lower them.

  Her fingers grazed the bulge straining the confines of cotton, scorching him, setting his nerves on fire. Sucking in a quick intake of air, he grasped her wrists to stop her. "Jessie, if you so much as touch me, I'll go off."

  His blatant warning didn't seem to faze her. Instead, an amused, lopsided grin tipped her lips. "Do you think you could give me maybe a minute or two to play first?"

  A deep, guttural groan vibrated in his chest. "Sweetheart, you don't have to do this."

  She looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with desire, and the need to know him as intimately as he'd known her. "I know I don'thave to do this. I want to touch you, and taste you. Will you let me?"

  He struggled with her request and what it would entail, not sure he could handle such an all-out assault. He was, after all, just a man-one who was hanging on to his last thin thread of control.

  And then she took the decision out of his hands and put it directly into hers.Literally. And he was lost, unable to deny her anything, especially this.

  Her nimble fingers granted him freedom and curled around his shaft snugly, measuring his breadth and length. He gritted his teeth while she explored, and squeezed his eyes shut so he didn't have to watch. Except he could feel… and when she took him into her warm, wet mouth and swirled her tongue around the swollen tip, he shook with the effort it took to restrain his natural impulse to thrust.

  He swore when she deepened her intimate kiss and applied the same techniques he'd used on her… suckling sensuously, stroking rhythmically, taking time and pleasure in discovering the taste and feel of him with her fingers, her supple lips, her wicked tongue.

  Heat flared. Carnal gratification beckoned. His stomach muscles clenched, and knowing he was fast approaching the point of no return, he tangled his fingers in her hair to ease her away. She stubbornly remained, making hungry little sounds in the back of her throat that reverberated along his shaft. Desperate, certain this wasn't what she meant to do, he uttered a final warning she blatantly ignored.

  And then it was too late, and all he could do was surrender to her selfless offering, her inherent sensuality, and her giving, generous heart.

  Chapter 9

  " Are you coming?"

  Startled by the question and the connotation behind it, Jessica snapped herself out of the private, erotic fantasies that had consumed her thoughts ever since her tryst with Ryan at his office five days ago. She glanced toward her sister, who was looking at her oddly.

  Those sexy daydreams were going to get her into trouble, if they hadn't already. Had Brooke recognized the flush on her skin as sexual arousal, which she seemed to be in a constant state of lately? Had she made some kind of peculiar noise that had tipped her sister off to the provocative scenarios filling her head?

  Jessica's heart beat triple time. Her body tingled with a desire that had yet to be fully appeased, and her face inflamed with guilt at being caught making love to Ryan in her mind-with her sister standing three feet away, her expression now concerned.

  "Excuse me?" She winced as her voice came out as a high-pitched squeak.

  Brooke's frown deepened. "I said, I'm going into the dressing room to try these on." She indicated the outfits hanging over both of their arms that they'd chosen for Ryan's New Year's Eve party. "Are you coming?"

  "Oh," she breathed, the sound relieved. Her sister's question was completely innocent. It washer brain that was overloaded with sinful, lustful scenarios.

  She glanced at her own selection, and knowing she wasn't in the frame of mind to continue searching through the racks in the boutique, she nodded in answer. She followed Brooke into the changing area, and they each took their own spacious rooms next to the other. Jessica hung her dresses on the hook by the door, refraining from looking into the two-way mirror because she didn't want to get lost in another fantasy, and pulled her sweatshirt over her head to change.

  "You know, you've been distracted all day," Brooke said, her voice drifting over the partition separating them. "First at lunch, and now here. Is everything okay, Jess?"

  "I'm fine," she said automatically, and reached for the first dress, a red sequined number that sparkled and shimmered and had a life of its own. Her assurance was meant to appease her sister, because Jessica wasn't ready to divulge the truth, that emotionally she'd been feeling mixed up and confused over Ryan Matthews. Not to mention feeling so sexually charged, she was sure her years of deprivation had finally caught up to her with a vengeance.

  She wanted to make love with Ryan, and after what they'd shared at his office, she knew she was ready to take that next step. Except she'd started her period, and still had another three days to go before everything was back to normal, which meant she wouldn't be able to seduce him until after Christmas. It had been incredibly frustrating two days ago, when things had gotten hot and heavy between her and Ryan at his house and she'd had to put the brakes on any intimate foreplay. He'd been understanding, and incredibly patient, but she couldn't say the same about herself.

  The thought of going all the way with Ryan was both a scary and exciting prospect-scary because he made her feel more than any man ever had, cherished and desired. Yet despite how compatible they were, she'd witnessed his dedication to his job, in the time he spent at the office after hours handling a case, and weekend work. She knew his career would always come before her, or a relationship, and she accepted that, too. Ultimately, that knowledge kept her from doing something incredibly foolish… like depend on him. Or worse, fall in love with him. In the meantime, she was determined to indulge in everything he had to offer, because in another week and a half, their affair would be nothing more than a glorious memory for her.

  "Are yousure you're okay?" Brooke persisted.

  Ignoring the emotion knotting her throat, Jessica slipped the fancy dress on and adjusted the material over her hips. Drawing a deep breath, she summoned a light tone. "Brooke, stop worrying about me."

  "You know I can't help it," her sister replied affectionately.

  Jessica smiled, accepting that her sister's protective habits were ingrained since childhood, and Jessica would probably live the rest of her life with Brooke fussing over her. "Yeah, I know."

  They exited the rooms to admire each other's outfits in the large, communal mirror in the dressing area. Brooke agreed with Jessica's assessment that the beads and sequins on her dress were too much for her taste, and the gold dress Brooke had selected did nothing to accentuate her figure.

  They returned to their rooms for round two.

  "So, what did you decide to do for Christmas?" Brooke asked.

  Jessica winced. It had been too much to hope that her sister wouldn't inquire about her plans. "Actually, I was invited to spend the holiday with a friend's family." When in reality, she'd beencoerced into it in a very delicious, tantalizing manner.

  "Oh." Brooke sounded surprised. "Anyone I know?"

  Jessica closed her eyes, silently asking for forgiveness for her fib. "No, it's a friend from one of the medical offices I do transcripts for." She had no choice but to stretch the truth, because her sister would be all over her for details if she so much as suspected that something was going on between her and Ryan. And there was no sense involving Brooke when the relationship was only temporary.

  They met at the mirror again, this time with Brooke wearing a leopard print dress that was too tight across the bodice and puckered at the zipper, and Jessica in a pale gray jersey that did nothing for her complexion. With a shake of both of their heads, they returned to change into their next outfits.

  Jessica slipped into her next dress, a vibrant, royal-blue silky sheath that caressed her skin in a very luxurious way. She tho
ught about Ryan, and what he'd think of the dress, and suspected he'd be more interested in finding out what she wore beneath it.

  A shiver stole through her, and without thinking she asked her sister a question that had been on her mind since her discussion with Ryan in his office about relationships. "Brooke… how did you know that Marc wasthe one?"

  There was a quiet pause from her sister's dressing room, then, "Why do you ask?"

  "Just curious," she replied, though she knew her inquiry wasn't as simple as that. She needed to know what made a woman give her heart to a man, not that she intended to give Ryan hers, of course.

  "Well, quite honestly I didn't know Marc wasthe one, not until I'd almost lost him and came to realize just how much I loved him." Brooke laughed lightly. "And it took him a while to come around, too, if you'll recall."

  Jessica smiled, remembering Marc's reluctance, and his belief that Brooke was better off without him. Now, it was hard to imagine the two ever being apart. "But didn't you love Eric, too?" She had to bring up Brooke's first husband, unable to stop her own personal doubts from creeping into the conversation.

  "Well, of course I did, but sometimes people don't have the same expectations of a relationship, and Eric and I realized that we married for the wrong reasons. Unfortunately, it happens sometimes, just like with Mom and Dad." There was the faint sound of material rustling and settling into place, then Brooke continued. "It's hard to explain, Jess, but I love Marc in such a way that I can't imagine living without him. When you meet the right guy, you'll justknow."

  A lump formed in Jessica's throat, one she had trouble swallowing back. She absorbed her sister's words, wondering if maybe her expectations were unrealistic. Wondering, too, if she'd ever be able to put such unconditional faith and trust in a man for her happiness, as Brooke had with Marc. The prospect made her stomach clench, and brought on a tidal wave of fears and insecurities she'd been clinging to since the day her father had turned his back on their family. She'd trusted him, believed in him, and she'd never forgiven him for callously destroying her safe, secure haven.

  Brooke knocked on her door, jarring Jessica out of her painful memories. "Hey, are you changed yet?" she asked.

  "Just a sec." Pushing those disturbing thoughts from her mind, Jessica exited the dressing room and met Brooke at the mirror.

  She gazed at their reflections, seeing past the outfits they wore. While she and Brooke were similar in looks, and they'd gone through the same childhood turmoil, they'd both reacted differently to the experience. Brooke made the best of situations, opting toward making responsible, sensible and pragmatic decisions. Jessica was practical, too, but had discovered it was easier, and less painful, if she safeguarded her heart and emotions.

  And that explained why she was still alone and single, she knew. And she also knew and accepted that with Ryan's goals, profession and carefree outlook on relationships that he wasn't the kind of man she could have a future with, either. He'd made her no promises, and that was probably for the best, for both of them.

  But that knowledge only served to make her more determined to take what Ryan was offering, and enjoy what she could of their affair.

  She focused on the images of her and Brooke and the dresses they wore, both of which complemented their figures and complexions perfectly. Jessica smiled. "Well?"

  "What do you think?" her sister asked at the same moment.

  They both looked into the mirror, then at each other.

  "You look fabulous," they echoed in unison, and laughed.

  * * *

  "Ho, Ho, Ho! Merry Christmas!"

  The deep, baritone voice resounded in the Matthews' spacious family room where everyone was gathered. Jessica watched in amazement and delight as Ryan's five nieces and nephews stopped whatever they were doing and turned wide-eyed to the jolly man in red standing in the doorway, wearing a full white beard, gold-rimmed glasses, and carrying a bulging, red velvet sack over his shoulder.

  "It's Santa!" three-year-old Alyssa breathed, as if she couldn't quite believe her eyes.

  "He's here, he's here!" Six-year-old Richie squealed in unabashed excitement.

  Total chaos erupted as four little kids stampeded toward "Santa" and clamored around him for attention. Max, the youngest at two, decided to observe from a distance, his gaze narrowed, as if he wasn't quite sure who the big, boisterous stranger was, or if he wanted to approach him just yet. The adults sat back and watched, letting the little guy make the decision for himself.

  Courtney, one of Ryan's older sisters, slid into the empty seat beside Jessica and spoke out of the corner of her mouth. "You'd think that Jackie would figure out that Santa is really her Uncle Ryan, but for two years now she's been just as enthralled as the other kids."

  Jackie, Jessica had learned, was seven years old, and though she seemed very mature for her age, when it came to believing in St. Nick, she was just as gullible as the others. "Sometimes it's hard to let go of that illusion," she replied, knowing she was speaking from her own childhood experiences. "And it's nice to see them enjoy it for as long as possible."

  Courtney agreed, and they both turned their attention back to the Christmas Eve surprise unfolding for the little ones, none of whom had seemed to notice that Ryan had slipped out of the room twenty minutes ago, or that he wasn't currently present. Once "Santa" calmed the excited kids, he addressed them one at a time, letting each one sit on his lap and tell him what they wanted for Christmas. Then, he pulled out a special gift for them from his velvet bag, and went on to the next captivated child. His patience and affection for his nieces and nephews was apparent and made Jessica experience an odd tug near the vicinity of her heart.

  Jennifer ripped open her present and gasped when she revealed what Santa had given her, which had been one of the things she'd just asked him for. Jessica smothered a grin-she and Ryan had gone toy shopping a few days ago with a list from his sisters of what the children wanted.

  "Mom, Dad! Santa brought me the Herbee I asked for!" Jennifer cried jubilantly as she held up a small square box for everyone to see the furry, animated creature that spoke nonstop and was no doubt designed to drive an adult certifiably nuts.

  "Thank you, Santa," Courtney said wryly, and Ryan replied with a hearty. "Ho, ho, ho," that had the other adults chuckling.

  As Richie hopped off Santa's lap with his own gift and Alyssa climbed on, Ryan glanced Jessica's way, and their gazes met. His brown eyes twinkled just as merrily as his namesake, and the wink he gave her was very private and made her cheeks warm. Fortunately, everyone else in the room was preoccupied and hadn't witnessed the intimate exchange.

  When they'd arrived at Ryan's parents' house four hours ago, Nancy and Conrad Matthews had welcomed her as if shewere part of their family, despite that Ryan had held true to his word and had introduced her simply as a friend. And though everyone had accepted his introduction without question, Jessica was fairly certain that his mother and sisters were wondering about the real scoop between her and Ryan. Knowing she'd probably never spend Christmas with his family again, she preferred that they believed his explanation.

  She outright envied the love and security so evident in his family, how warm and supportive they seemed to be. They had fun together, they laughed and teased, and it was apparent that Ryan's mother took extra care in creating a holiday atmosphere meant to make lasting memories. Before Santa's arrival, the kitchen had been bustling-with finger foods and holiday treats to snack on, and with Jessica and Natalie helping the children to bake cookies to leave for St. Nick when they went to bed for the night.

  The whole evening was magical and something Jessica knew she'd never forget. And for the first time since she was a little girl, she was wrapped up in the sense of belonging-and had to firmly remind herself that although Ryan had shared this holiday and his family with her, it wasn't something she'd be a part of in the future.

  Jessica pulled her thoughts back to the present, and realized that all the kids had taken a tu
rn with Santa, except for Max, who was still eyeing him warily from across the room. Wanting the little boy to share in the fun and spirit of St. Nick, she leaned forward until she caught Max's mom's attention.

  "Can I take him to see Santa?" Jessica asked Lindsay.

  The other woman smiled and nodded. "Go right ahead."

  Jessica approached the toddler, and his big brown eyes, the same shade as his uncle's, darted from her to his mother. Lindsay must have silently reassured him somehow, because he visibly relaxed.

  She squatted in front of him and gentled her voice. "You know, I've never met Santa personally, either, so what do you say we go together?"

  Max swallowed and sneaked a peek at Santa, the yearning in his gaze clear. Seemingly deciding that he'd be safer with an escort, he nodded his head jerkily, and placed his tiny hand in hers.

  Jessica accompanied Max to the man in red, and sat him on Ryan's knee, but remained close so the little boy didn't panic.

  Santa patted Max's thigh in a gesture meant to reassure him. "I hear you've been a very good boy this year," Ryan said, his voice deliberately gruff to disguise it.

  Max, eyes round as he stared at Ryan's huge white beard, nodded mutely.

  "Would you like to tell me what you'd like for Christmas?"

  Max shook his head "no" in response, still uncertain of this jolly, strange man.

  "Well, I think I might have something in my bag that you'd like." Ryan withdrew the last gaily wrapped present, and handed it to Max.

  "Thank you," the little boy whispered, then scrambled off Santa's lap and bolted for the safety of his father, Clive, who sat across the room watching the show.

  Jessica stepped away to return to her seat, but a white-gloved hand caught her wrist, gently tugged her back, and she found herself sitting on Santa's very hard, muscular thigh. She gasped in surprise that he'd so openly flirt with her in front of his family when his behavior toward her had been platonic all evening.