What She Really Wants For Christmas

by Rawlins, Debbi

  Tightening all her muscles, she lowered herself as slowly as she could until he was all the way inside. And then she stopped.

  For a long moment, all she felt was the trembling of their bodies. All she heard was the deep, almost gasping breaths that filled the sex-scented air. A trickle of sweat snaked down her neck and she had to stop playing with her nipples because they were too sensitive.

  He groaned and it turned into a growl. When he said her name, she realized time was running out. He was going to lose it. Or was that her?

  She squeezed him once, then she rose up until she held him by just an inch.

  “Please.”

  It was said so sweetly, she granted him his wish.

  She lowered herself down, and with no hesitation, rose up again. The sensation of his upper thighs on the back of her ass, the way she shivered as he hit bottom…it felt beyond incredible.

  Faster now, both of them panting, both of them thrusting. She moved only enough that each thrust rubbed her a new way, rubbed against her swollen—

  It hit her like a giant wave, crashing her off balance. She gritted her teeth as she came explosively, as she heard him groan his own climax. She wanted to see him, to watch his face, but she couldn’t open her eyes. Not until the quaking stopped.

  Not until she found her breath. Until her heartbeat slowed to a hundred beats a second.

  When she finally opened her eyes she couldn’t see through her tears.

  * * *

  Liza stared at the fire, completely mesmerized. Shadows danced on the ceiling and walls. Amazingly, the gas fire made the room so warm they’d cast off the sheets and blankets. She looked over at Evan, sound asleep, lying facedown, the most perfect male butt in the whole world hers for the gawking.

  He really did have a great body, but who would know it with him hiding under suits and sport coats. She’d really like to see him in jeans, she decided. Tight, worn jeans that couldn’t hide a thing.

  A flame shifted, its shadow licking the ceiling and drawing her attention back to the stone fireplace. When she was younger and hopeful, and life hadn’t gotten in the way yet, she’d decided that her dream house would have a Jacuzzi in the master bathroom. She’d only been in one once. That first night she and her parents had moved to Jacksonville. The motel had screwed up their reservation, and after her father’s drunken rants, the manager had put them in the honeymoon suite.

  Looking back it was really a hokey motel, and the suite was hardly that, but at the time, Liza had thought she’d landed in paradise. The towels were thick…at least thicker than the threadbare offerings of the other motels they’d stayed in along the eastern coast. And there were two bars of soap, one for your hands, and one for the bath. Next to the sink there’d even been a free bottle of moisturizing lotion and shampoo. A big deal to an eleven-year-old who still wore last year’s outgrown shoes.

  But it was the Jacuzzi that had stolen her heart. Right off the bedroom, it sat in the middle of the tiled bathroom. You even had to walk up two steps to get inside the monstrous tub. It had been pure heaven, sitting in there, alone, with all those bubbles, the jetted water hitting her tired fanny after sitting on a suitcase in the backseat of her parents’ sedan for ten hours.

  Heaven fell apart when her father had walked into the bathroom and yanked her out of the tub. His handprint on her bare fanny lasted for days. She never did find out what had set him off that time. Her mother had taken her pills and was sound asleep. That they were prescribed, in her mind, sanctioned her addiction.

  Liza changed her mind. Screw the Jacuzzi. A fireplace in the bedroom was totally the way to go.

  “Hey.” His voice was groggy with sleep and he barely had one eye open. “What time is it?”

  She leaned over him to look at the digital alarm clock, and then sank back into the soft down pillow so that they faced each other at eye level. “One-thirty.”

  He threw an arm across her waist. “Tell me you don’t have to go now.”

  She should. If Rick were awake…No. She wouldn’t think about him. Not tonight. He’d already ruined enough of her life. “No, I don’t.”

  He pulled her closer, and she gladly pressed herself against his side. His skin was so warm and smooth, but the possessive way he hooked his arm around her made her feel safer and more wanted than she ever had in her life.

  “It’s earlier than I thought,” he said with a crooked smile, and attempted to raise himself.

  She gripped his forearm, keeping him right where he was. “Go back to sleep,” she said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.” She kissed his shoulder. She knew he was tired, and he had to get up early to go to work tomorrow, but she didn’t. “Let’s both go back to sleep.”

  “Will you?”

  She nodded. Even though in a few hours, she’d have hell to pay.

  Chapter 11

  “Next time, how about you let me pick you up at your apartment?” Evan said after he got them on the road. As usual, he expected traffic to be brutal once he left the neighborhood and the extra ten minutes it would take to get her to her car was going to make him late for his first appointment.

  When she didn’t answer he looked over at her. She stared absently out of the window at the lineup of kids waiting for the school bus. At least now he understood why she was sometimes jumpy. He figured she was worried about Rick seeing them. Evan hoped like hell the guy did follow them one day. It would be the perfect excuse to get in the guy’s face. Let him know what it felt like to be the victim.

  Evan took one hand off the steering wheel to touch her arm. “Did you hear me?”

  Slowly she turned to look at him. “This is really a nice neighborhood.”

  Evan sighed to himself. If she didn’t want to talk about something, she was awfully good at changing the subject. Maybe he should leave it alone. Let her meet him anywhere she chose, and not bring up Rick. That was her business.

  “No, seriously, the first time I came here I thought a doctor could do better than this. But I like it.” She wrapped her arms around herself and shifted to watch a flock of sparrows perched on a bird feeder. “It feels homey. Happy. Even with all the leaves gone.”

  “I don’t plan on staying here forever. But the price was right, and it suits me for now.” Although he did like the older neighborhood with even older trees shading the houses.

  “Come on, Doc, you make oodles of money. You could be living in Buckhead.”

  He smiled at the way she baited him. “Eric told you, huh?”

  “Told me what?”

  He shook his head. Her tone alone told him his brother had opened his big mouth. The tuition arrangement between Evan and his youngest brother was supposed to have been private, but somehow the whole damn family knew about it. “Elton’s going to pay me back later by handling my malpractice cases.”

  “Malpractice? You?”

  “You’d be surprised how many nuts are out there looking for a free ride.”

  Her silence spoke volumes.

  “Liza?”

  She dug into her purse and pulled out a pair of sunglasses. “Did I tell you I have a court date?”

  “When?”

  “The twenty-second.”

  “Of this month?”

  She cleaned off the lenses and then slipped on the glasses. “Yep.”

  “Well, good.” He nodded without enthusiasm. “Good for you.”

  Even with the glasses on he saw her disappointed frown. “Why do I suddenly feel like I’m sitting on the wrong side of the bleachers?”

  “It’s not that.” If she won, she’d be gone before Christmas. No strings and all that, but he wasn’t ready to watch her walk away.

  “Right.”

  He’d never been so glad to see a traffic light turn red. With the string of cars in front of him, they’d inevitably sit through two lights. Taking advantage of the stop, he slid an arm along the back of her seat. “Haven’t we been honest with each other?”

  “I think so.”

 
“Well, I have,” he said, and waited for her to make the same claim. She didn’t, so he added, “I told you that the lawsuit was your business. If I didn’t sound like the cheering committee it’s because I wanted to spend Christmas with you.”

  “Christmas?”

  “Yeah, Christmas.”

  “I thought you hated Christmas.”

  “I’m not crazy about the holiday but my family always has this big dinner….”

  She stared at him, as if waiting for him to finish. It was gonna be a long wait. She could figure this one out. Finally, with a look of disbelief, she asked, “You want me to go with you?”

  “Would that be so terrible? You’ve already met Eric.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “But I’d have to meet your parents.”

  “They won’t bite. They’re actually pretty nice people. You might like them.”

  She looked away. “I don’t do parents very well. And Christmas…well, you know how I feel about that whole thing.”

  “Fine.” He turned back to watch for the green light. It was dinner. No big deal. But if she had other plans, that wasn’t any big deal, either.

  “I didn’t say I wouldn’t go.”

  It was so ridiculous how this woman had him feeling like an adolescent. Hopeful one moment, annoyed as hell the next. He’d obviously missed the light change because someone behind them honked. So much for sitting through two lights. “We have two weeks. Just let me know.”

  “Listen, if you’re going to be mad—”

  “I’m not mad,” he said calmly. “In fact, I have tickets for a concert Monday night if you’d like to go.”

  “Weird night for a concert.” The wariness was back.

  “It’s not a ruse. I already showed you my etchings.”

  She didn’t ask about the type of music or the group. Just smiled. “What time?”

  “I can’t remember. I’ll have to give you a call. Don’t forget to give me your cell number.” He glanced over to see her reaction. Reluctance was written all over her face.

  “Do you have a pen?”

  He reached inside his jacket for one and handed it to her. “Or you can program your number into my cell.”

  She tried to hide a smile. “What if I don’t like the concert? I might not go out with you again.”

  “Is that right?”

  She nodded smugly, and wrote the number on a piece of torn paper.

  “Here I thought you liked my fireplace.”

  “Oh, baby, I love your fireplace,” she said, giving him the once-over.

  “You’re pretty hot yourself.”

  Liza laid her head back on the headrest and laughed softly. “It’s easy being with you.”

  “I’m not sure how to take that.”

  She turned her head to face him, her cheek still pressed to the headrest. “This is touchy ground.”

  “Ah.” Evan’s gut tightened. Liza was one of those kind of unpredictable, free-spirited girls he’d known in high school. He’d always been attracted to them but never once dared asked one out. They would’ve laughed him back to the chemistry lab. “This is where you tell me I’m a nice guy and I’ll make some woman a great husband one day.”

  “No, this is where I tell you that I think you’re a terrific guy and I love being with you and hope you don’t run the other way.”

  Traffic was heavy and he had no business taking his eyes off the road, but he had to look over at her to see if she was teasing him. The earnestness in her eyes said otherwise. “Next time we’ll have to get up early enough so I can make you breakfast.”

  She looked sad suddenly. “You cook?”

  “A little.”

  “That’s more than me.”

  “Good to know.” He almost missed their exit. He had to do some fancy maneuvering to get over, and then waited until he cleared the off-ramp and said, “I know this Italian place with awesome baked ziti. We can go before the concert.”

  “What?” she asked, blinking at him, looking as if her thoughts were already miles away.

  “Nothing,” he said, and went back to concentrating on his driving with the feeling that she had no intention of joining him Monday evening.

  * * *

  Liza parked around the corner from the apartment complex. She’d stopped at a discount store and bought a new cream-colored sweater. Coming home in the same clothes she’d left wearing yesterday would be plain stupid. Overly paranoid maybe, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

  Her apartment key already in hand, she quietly made it up the stairs without incident. On the third-floor landing near Rick’s apartment, a string of Christmas lights had been crushed and left on the concrete. It gave her a sick feeling and she made it the rest of the way with heavy steps.

  Once inside, she dumped the package with her black sweater, along with her purse, on a kitchen chair. Just slightly bigger than a checkbook, the poor little brown leather purse was embarrassingly worn. Just like her shoes, her clothes and everything else she owned. Not totally true. She still had some nice things that she hadn’t donated to charity, but were safely locked away in a small storage unit on the west side of town.

  Mostly, though, she’d had to travel light. The more unstable Rick had grown, the more they’d had to move. God, how could it have been a year ago that she’d first walked off the set of Just Between Us. She was only supposed to have disappeared for a long weekend. Teach them all a lesson for taking her for granted. For shunning Rick.

  She’d been bone-tired between partying too much with Rick and the demands of the show. It had really killed her that Eve and Jane hadn’t liked him. They hadn’t even been subtle about excluding him from social events. In retrospect, of course, they were right about him. But that they hadn’t supported her decision had hurt. All she’d wanted was for them to be happy for her.

  After she went to the bathroom and stared into the mirror—she was horrified at her gaunt appearance—she headed into the bedroom and flopped onto the bed. What did Evan see in her? She looked like hell. She didn’t even have a job. He was probably one of those guys who liked rescuing women. Not that she needed his help. She could take care of herself. Because she’d done such a super bang-up job so far.

  She closed her eyes. That one weekend a year ago had changed everything. She and Rick were supposed to have gone to Atlantic City for four days. Show Eve and Jane that she didn’t need them, but they needed her. Atlantic City had been Rick’s idea. He had this grand idea, he’d told her, and he had a surprise for her. Foolishly, she’d thought he was going to ask her to marry him.

  What a joke. Poker and blackjack had proven to be his true loves. But he sucked at it. By the second day he’d drained her substantial checking account. When she’d refused to give up her savings, that’s when he’d told her he had Eve’s diaries.

  Liza rolled over to bury her face in the pillow. She could see that scene in her head as if it happened an hour ago. They’d been sitting in the posh hotel suite he’d blithely paid for with her credit card. Him, so damn cocky, she wanted to tear his eyes out.

  She’d totally panicked. She’d yelled and screamed and threatened to call the cops. He’d given her that evil smile she’d remember until the day she died, and told her that he was calling the shots from now on. If he couldn’t get the money from her, he’d get it from the tabloids.

  Eve’s show had really taken off. She’d become the sweetheart of the local cable station with promises of bigger things to come. The truth was, her career could’ve weathered anything revealed in the diaries. The publicity might even have helped the show, which garnered its popularity partly from the frank, open discussions. But Eve, the woman, would have been deeply wounded by her private thoughts being splashed across the headlines. And Eve was Liza’s friend, even more, the sister she never had.

  The stupid bastard didn’t care. Rick had been using smack right under Liza’s nose, and she’d been too caught up in a maelstrom of lust and resentment to see what was happening. She’d totally
underestimated him every step of the way. He’d even known about her inheritance before she had by intercepting the attorney’s letter. When her savings was gone and she figured she finally had nothing more he wanted, he played his trump card.

  The true irony was that now Liza saw that she hadn’t loved Rick. Had she married him that weekend it would have been to defy Eve and Jane. Force them to accept him.

  What a complete and utter moron she’d been. She was even crazier for replaying all this in her mind, which she did whenever she was exhausted. She doubted she’d had more than four hours sleep last night. Poor Evan. He didn’t have the luxury of taking a nap, something in which she had every intention of indulging.

  As her eyes drifted closed, just thinking of him made her smile. But only for a moment.

  Because if she really wanted to be a stand-up person, she’d cut the cord with him. She didn’t deserve a good man like Evan, and he didn’t deserve her baggage.

  * * *

  Rain poured down in sheets. Visibility was almost nil. The road was so slick that cars skidded everywhere—through stop signs, into the middle of intersections. Sirens blared in the distance.

  Damn stupid night to be riding a Harley. Rick used the back of his arm to wipe the rain from his face. He couldn’t see shit. Couldn’t even tell how close he was to the curb. Familiar with the intersection he was approaching, he knew there’d be a stop. He lightly applied the brakes. The bike wouldn’t slow down. Panicked, he slammed down harder and went into a skid.

  Light flashed off the side of the semi barreling toward him. The big white truck didn’t stop. Rick veered to the left. He didn’t see the massive oak tree. Until he wrapped his mangled body around it…

  There were so many beautiful flowers. Oranges and yellows and stunning purples. Who the hell had sent them? How could anyone possibly have cared enough about his life or death? Liza watched them lower the casket into the ground and breathed a sigh of relief. She was finally rid of him. Finally. Thankfully…

  Liza’s eyes flew open. The dream hadn’t woken her. Someone was knocking at the door. She closed her eyes again. If she ignored them, maybe they’d go away. Except if it were Rick. Her chest and gut tightened and she opened her eyes again. No, he’d be pounding. Screaming for her. But if she didn’t stop the person who was out there now, they were likely to get his attention, too.