Holiday Spice & Everything Nice

by Conn, Claudy

  Rachael gripped at the blankets beneath her, trying not to smell Aaron’s scent. It was a pointless effort. The cologne he wore, the smell of musk and patchouli with the hint of maybe some sort of fruit, so masculine and clean, washed over her. She turned her nose into his pillow and inhaled deeply.

  “You okay?”

  She heard him rush in, and what sounded like a bowl hitting the table beside her. Then she felt other things hitting the bed.

  “You are starting to sound like a broken record. I’m fine, just dizzy,” she lied, impressed with herself for even coming up with it rather than sitting there like a deer in headlights. “The helplessness is wearing thin, though. Don’t think I like it.”

  He sat back, his frown making her chest tighten.

  “I’m sure. You are not really the type to accept help are you?”

  “Not really. I’ve fought my way to where I am, in a man’s world, until it has gotten to the point that all I know how to do is battle. Life would be so much easier with a dick between my legs, you know? And, that didn’t come out right.”

  “Yeah, it didn’t,” he said with that amazing chuckle of his, deep, smooth, intoxicating. “Anyway, knowing what you actually meant, I can only imagine. Well, I can…nevermind. You are doing well, though, with our truce. Mostly. The rest I will chalk up to pain making you grouchy.”

  “Sorry,” she interrupted. “I’m not usually. In all honestly, I’m just not processing this truce thing well. I don’t know how to be myself, well, my real self, around you. You’ve been the competition for so long. It’s hard to turn off the auto-bitch I usually have on in your presence. And you are just being so damn nice to me. I feel horrible, literally and figuratively.”

  “I get. Probably easier for me.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing bad. I promise. But, I fear explaining would only get me in more trouble. So, just try to trust me. I want to help. I’m not a monster when it comes to women like you think I am. Anyway, everything you need is right here. I’ll turn my back, and you can prove to me how adult and tough you are.”

  He was challenging her to undress with him right there. His smile didn’t mask the worry etching lines around his eyes, though. If she didn’t want to strangle him for trying reverse psychology on her right then, Rachael would have hugged him for his efforts to care for her so completely since she’d been hurt. He did seem honestly concerned, but her and him, plus no clothes, would equal disaster. There was no doubt in her mind she wanted him. Lying be damned, she did. Nightmare, of all nightmares, they were too close, and Rachael had no way of knowing what Monday at work would bring if she acted on what she was feeling. Lust never played nice in the boardroom. Neither did the night after a moment of weakness.

  “Fine, stay. No angle, right, Mr. Truce?” She laughed, her nerves making her words vibrate, doing no favors for her head, but going right along with the sudden rush of butterflies in her stomach.

  “Right. It must seem to you that everything I do has to have an angle? I mean, with the way I act at work.”

  “Kind of. Well, yeah. Doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah, I guess where you are concerned it does. Although, I don’t think you truly understand. And, I am sorry for that.”

  “What? Are you questioning my intelligence, there, Truce Boy?”

  “No!” he yelled and then flinched. A second later, he’d covered her ears with his hands. “Oh, sorry.” She read his lips.

  “You are a minute late and a dollar short, or however that saying goes, on covering my ears. Now, I can’t hear you. Mr.—”

  He released her ears, making sure to keep his voice lower this time. “Stop. I don’t want to know what name you want to call me. At least at this moment your feistiness is a touch comforting, in that it means you are okay. Even lightheaded, you are thinking, but I will have to question if it is clearly. Please. Let’s stop. My head is starting to hurt.” His head bobbed to the side. “I will turn around now. Just say the word if you need help.”

  “You wish.”

  “Maybe.” Aaron winked, cute, coy smile all back in place. Relief, like a good cup of hot chocolate after a treacherous drive in a snowstorm, rushed through her body. Rachael couldn’t help but be turned on by the idea of being naked in his bed with him in the room. Hmmm, chocolate and sex, now there was a heady combination she should not be thinking about.

  “Just turn around!”

  He obeyed, yet it had looked reluctant. Reading into things much?

  “I’m turned! I will even cover my eyes if it helps you.” He did that too.

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “Thanks, Mr. I Look Like A Four Year Old.”

  Her name-calling had lost its edge, and become something creative to do, to occupy her mind. She hoped he got that fact.

  “Ah, at least I am maturing in your eyes. Nice. Maybe I can act all of seven again soon. I don’t think you have ever accused me of acting my age, though.”

  “Probably not. Again, sorry. In my frail defense, you don’t act it much around me. But, I’m sure I bring out the worst in you.”

  “Oh, you have absolutely no idea.”

  Then tell me! Rachael wanted to scream. Sitting up slowly, she was glad he was there as much as she wished he wasn’t. Her head spun, but she unbuttoned her blouse as fast as she could. Seeing her blood-soaked bra made her queasy. She may have gasped, definitely swallowed hard, and as sure as blood is blood, she let out a hard breath.

  “You…” he trailed off, turning toward her. “Oh my god!”

  Unnerved about him looking at her chest, Rachael saw stars as her stomach rolled. She hung her head and put one arm over her chest while using the other to attempt to wave him away.

  He grabbed her. One hand grasped her outstretched arm. His other landed on her back. Moving her arm like a lever, he moved her back down on the bed.

  “Aaron!” As his silk shirt brushed over her bra, and her nipples hardened, she moved to further cover herself and push him away.

  “Rachael, stop it!” His angry voice startled her. He moved her hand out of the way. “I’ve seen breasts before. Lots of them. Not yours,” He swallowed hard, “granted, but lots of them. So, shut up while I clean you up. You are as pale as the snow outside. It’s just a friend helping a friend.”

  She bristled, but a sharp pain shot through her head, stifling her protest. Closing her eyes tight, she wanted only quiet and to disappear. If she saw anything at all behind her tightly closed lids, it was red. He had her bra off in seconds. A warm towel wiped down over her skin. Her jaw hurt from not talking, just wanting to end this moment, because if she had the strength she didn’t know if she would place his hand on her breasts or slap his face. She wanted silence as much as she wanted to scream. The betraying ache in her breasts, the pulsing of her skin, the need to be touched, all rivaled the throb in her head. Her thoughts flew sporadically. Enemy. Cute. Beast. Man. Touch me. I hate you. Thank you. You hate me. Do you like them? Why the hell is it that the first time he sees me, my breasts have to be covered in blood? They’re not bad breasts, are they? Shit! Shut up!

  He interrupted the internal dialogue when he lifted her. Material moved over her skin, being taken away and added. He cleaned, dried, and dressed her as she hung out like a wet rag. He didn’t linger over her. He did his job, seemingly as fast as he could. And, she hated him for that too, ironically, as the zipper of the hoodie finally moved up her chest, hiding her from him. She just couldn’t be pleased. Not with him. Definitely not today. She was quite aware of that fact, now. No need to spell it out.

  Rachael turned her anger inward as her skirt and pantyhose just as swiftly disappeared. She grabbed at her underwear. The idea that she was wearing granny panties, the ones she reserved for period days, only because she’d not gotten around to doing laundry, turned her face scarlet and pissed her off to no end. This was it. The worst had happened! No wonder mom always said to wear nice underwear in case you were in an accident.r />
  “Okay, I get it. I am working as fast as I can, but I get it, this has to be hell for you. Look, I can turn my head now. You should be able to do this part laying down, right? Even with your eyes closed.”

  She nodded once. Through squinted eyes, she watched him turn just his head. His hands he put above his head like he was being arrested, surrendering maybe, but to what? Frustration, she imagined. She shimmied out of her damp underwear and pulled on his sweat pants, trying not to grunt with the effort. When she finally finished, she let out a huge breath. Just that had taken more energy than she possessed at the moment.

  “You done?”

  “Yes.”

  Aaron grabbed a blanket from the closet, and pulled it over her.

  “You’re shivering,” he stated and began rubbing his hands rapidly up and down her arms. “I’m sorry I saw you. I just wanted to help if you needed it. Listen. Payback. I’ll strip in front of you.” He winked, grabbing at his shirt buttons.

  Lower! “No, don’t. One of us humiliated is bad enough. Although, I’m sure you are wearing better underwear.”

  “What?”

  “Nevermind,” she got out in a light voice, one sad. She couldn’t actually admit to him that she wished she’d had on sexier underwear.

  “Okay. But, you are beautiful, if it helps. I’m not saying that as a come on, just trying to ease the sting of the past moments. I honestly think you are beautiful. Always have.”

  Rachael managed a faint smile, as in she had toned down the huge one that had threatened to surface. Really? You mean it? She decided to believe he did just to have one less thing to obsess about tonight. In the moment, it felt good. It made a difference. No apology would’ve been half as effective as him calling her beautiful, whether he meant it or not.

  “Hey, it’s really late. Let me warm up some soup in the microwave real quick, and you can get under the covers and get some sleep after you eat a little.” He’d hurried over the words, so she didn’t respond.

  “You want me to sleep here, in your bed?”

  “Yes, here. I won’t join you. Promise.”

  “Right.” Rachael felt so damn foolish, embarrassed, mad and horny all at the same time. She had her lion’s share to deal with, and she was as hungry as one all of the sudden too. Topped off by the pain and his kindness, she let the tears flow as soon as he walked out of the room.

  You’ve got two minutes to have a good, quiet cry, and then that’s it! Pull up your invisible big girl panties, and get over it, girl.

  When he came with the food, Rachael let him help her as much as he offered. It felt too wonderful to say no. Self-assured, kick-ass bitch be damned.

  “Well, enjoy my bed.” He smiled and picked up their bowls, putting them on a tray.

  “I’m sure I will, but, where will you sleep?”

  “I have a guest room. Just yell if you need anything.”

  Screw it! “I need something.” Her damn cheeks warmed up again. She was tired, feeling off, and didn’t have the strength to force herself to be alone.

  “Wow.”

  “What?”

  “I just never thought I would ever hear you say those words. Not to me anyway. Sorry. Stupid. I shouldn’t have said that. Please, name it. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

  “Stay with me. I just don’t want to be in here alone.” She’d gone for broke, and tensed up her shoulders waiting for his answer. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, she wanted to warn him as the damned tears threatened, made her eyes glisten.

  His forehead had scrunched up as she spoke, and he blinked slowly as if he were contemplating saying no. Panic set in fast, as did embarrassment at letting herself appear vulnerable, especially in front of him. Still, something had snapped inside of her just moments ago at the thought of being alone. A sudden flash of the accident. A brief moment of contemplating 'what ifs'. Her body had begun shaking at the just the idea of being alone in a strange room. So unlike her, maybe her head had been injured more than she thought. Maybe someone should be close by through the night. Or, maybe her emotions had overtaken her. She’d let it all go, regardless of the consequences, and gave into a sudden need. The future be damned. A turning point, but for the good or bad, tomorrow would have to tell. She didn’t have it in her anymore. Genuine fatigue, through and through, weighed her down, physically, mentally, and spiritually, and she wasn’t much of a spiritual person most days.

  “Ah…you’ve got it. Give me a few minutes to put this stuff downstairs and change.”

  Rachael nodded and lay back, not letting herself think about the consequences of her request. She counted her breaths until he returned, anything to ignore the way her whole body hummed, forgetting it was hurt.

  Once he got back, she’d listened to him move about the room. Drawers opened and closed. He’d gone into the bathroom for what seemed like an eternity, and then finally come back out. He crawled onto the bed, carefully positioning himself right beside her without touching her at all.

  “I assume this is where you want me.”

  “Thanks…for everything. And, congratulations, you survived your first snowstorm, Mr. Carolina. More than you bargained for?”

  “Let’s just say it didn’t go as I thought it would. I never thought you would be here, let alone in my bed.”

  His voice, low and light, had washed over her, soothing. He’d not teased. He’d not ridiculed. In fact, if she’d wanted to read more into it, he’d sounded happy about it all, grateful even. Has to be my imagination wanting it so. But, if it wasn’t, would that be so bad?

  Chapter Four

  A Killer Winter Storm Paralyzes Travel

  Waking the next morning to the sound of the weather report, she opened her eyes to find Aaron lounging back against the pillows next to her. One arm stretched behind his head, and the other resting on the waist of his sweats, just above the bulge – that for the love of all that is big and forbidden, she didn’t need to be reminded of right now. His legs were out from under the covers in a sexy sprawl, one leg straight with the one closest to her bent a bit at the knee. His pant leg read Clemson University, as did his sweatshirt. The orange and purple print on gray, only Mr. Baby Blues himself could pull off so well.

  “Hey, you’re awake.” He sounded excited by that fact.

  A thrill, something electric and fast, went from her heart to her stomach, lower. “Yeah.”

  “You are one heavy sleeper. Waking you up every two hours in case you had a concussion was quite a job.”

  “You did that? Of course you did. You are Mr. Take Care Of Everything, aren’t you.”

  “Well, thank you, I think, for the new name. Unless that was sarcasm I heard.”

  “Sorry, I meant it in a good way. Just still adjusting to this new you. New us. I don’t mean to sound like Ms. Ungrateful. I’m not. Thanks. Really. I don’t even remember you waking me up.”

  “Yeah, I’m not surprised. I could barely get you to speak to me.”

  “You seriously got up every two hours?”

  “Yeah, I just set the alarm on my watch.”

  “You are really something there, Mr. Clemson. I take back anything mean I might have said yesterday about your bedside manner. It was the pain talking.” And, the heat of your closeness!

  A big smile on his face, his bright eyes twinkling, he chuckled, “Forgotten. Neither of us were really ourselves.”

  “Well, thanks. I can’t seem to say it enough.”

  Rachael sat up and automatically hugged him. A few seconds later, her brain caught up. Their cheeks touched. His chest rose, filling with air, and pushed lightly against hers. Slowly, his hand came around her back, moving up, rubbing slightly, until his fingers found her hair. She froze, suddenly hyper-aware of his hip against hers, the proximity of his manhood to her wetness – currently void of underwear. Of course, her next thought was to wonder if he had gone to bed commando too.

  He grasped a fistful of her hair, gently, intimately, and pulled her in closer. “You are
very welcome.”

  Oh no! His voice is too husky, I want more of this. Could he want me that way? Really? More than a one-nighter? Could I let myself… She shut down. She couldn’t take her body buzzing, ready, wanting him. It wasn’t even a consideration. Just thinking about it was taking a risk worthy of skydiving. And she was deathly afraid of heights, to the point elevators scared her. There was no way she could do this. She couldn’t let anything happen between them no matter how much she wanted it to right now.

  A small tug made her move her head back, and his mouth found hers. His strong lips dominated. She let go. One kiss, and this was suddenly a battle Rachael would graciously lose in order to win. Call it patient-doctor bond, or obsession, or whatever, but she woke up having it bad. The doctor was in the house, and she in his bed. Hot damn!

  He gently pressed her body back with his own until her head hit the pillow. Their mouths never separated, but he rolled his body onto hers a little more. His now-too-large- to-ignore erection pressed against her leg, and he moaned as he ran a hand down over her breast to her stomach. His kisses became hastier, moving over her cheeks to her throat. It was like he was unsure of how much to take of her. His lips would touch her skin lightly, then his tongue would taste her, then his mouth would devour her.

  With his hand gripping tight to the sweatshirt she wore, he sighed into her neck. “You do know who you are kissing right?” His lips touched her neck again.

  “Yes,” she sighed, not meaning to say the thought out loud, and then stiffened.

  “Rach, please don’t regret this.”

  “No,” she muttered without hint of any emotion or what she’d meant by the word. She wasn’t sure herself.

  “You alright?” Aaron licked his lips, and then kissed hers again lightly. Briefly. Too briefly.

  “Yes. No. Head injury.”

  “Right. Oh god, I’m sorry! Am I hurting you? I’m such an idiot.”