All I Want For Christmas

by Shelby Morgen

  His eyes searched hers, looking for something she didn't know how to give him. "Candy, do you know what it’s going to take to get me out of here?"

  "A passport and a plane ticket."

  "You make it sound so simple…"

  "The passport might not be so easy, but I think we can manage it. The Embassy should be able to make you a new passport. What about once you’re home? What do you want to do once you’re back in the States?"

  He took his time thinking it over, but she was getting used to that by now. He didn't do much of anything in a hurry. "I want to punch Tim Reynolds in the face."

  She tried not to laugh, even though his expression looked so childishly malicious. "Who is Tim Reynolds and why do you want to punch him in the face?"

  "He was the Captain of the Junior Varsity Football team. He made fun of me because I was short and fat and he didn’t want me on his team."

  She tried to imagine him as a pudgy little junior high school kid. She smiled at the thought, feeling easier and more intimate with him for it. "What does Tim Reynolds do now?"

  He shrugged, still looking peeved. "Last I knew he was playing for the Giants."

  She shook her head. "The Giants. The New York Giants? The football team? That Tim Reynolds? That’s asking a lot. Even if I can get you a locker room pass, if you punch him you’ll get arrested and I’ll have to bail you out of jail. That’s a lousy welcome home. But I bet I can put your face on a billboard behind the goal posts at Giant Stadium. Tim Reynolds’ll have to see you ten foot tall in living color every time he runs for a touchdown next season. Is that good enough?"

  The little boy face turned speculative. "How much would that cost?"

  "Cost? You? They’ll pay you."

  He blinked at her, looking confused. "Who would?"

  "Whoever hires you. Budweiser. Coke. Some underwear company."

  He looked even more baffled, if that was possible. "You mean, like a model?"

  She snorted at that. "Not like a model. A model. With looks like yours, you're a natural. Follow me around for a week and you’ll have half a dozen agents trailing after you begging you to sign with them."

  The little boy faded away as he stared at her. She could feel his heart thudding beneath her hand. "Follow you around? Where? What do you do, Candy?"

  She hadn’t realized she’d forgotten to mention that part. "Sorry. Guess it didn’t come up. I’m a lawyer. Contract law. I deal mostly with entertainers and advertising agencies. Bands, models, actors."

  "A lawyer." His heart nearly jumped into her hand. He closed his eyes. "A lawyer. You deal with celebrities. You've had to do this before, haven't you? You really think you can get me out of this mess, Candy? I don’t have anything. No ID of any kind. I can’t prove any of what I’ve said is the truth."

  She tried to keep her tone hopeful without making things sound too easy. "I think the consulate at the US Embassy here can help us."

  He swallowed hard. "God, I want to believe you. I want this all to be a nightmare I can wake up from." He bent his head to suck on the tip of one tight, straining nipple. "Except you. I don't want to wake up from you."

  She kissed his forehead, sweeping her fingers up through his hair to pull him tighter against her breasts. "Is tomorrow morning good enough? We'll go to the Embassy after breakfast."

  He ran the edges of his teeth gently over her distended nipple. "Tomorrow morning will be just fine."

  They lay together, naked and tangled around each other, tomorrow looming over them.

  "Candy?"

  "Brooke?"

  He captured her hand in his and used it to stroke his erection again, as if missing her fingers now that they had grown still. "If I tried to walk out that door right now would you try to stop me?"

  "Yeah," she answered honestly. "Right now I’d do anything I could to keep you here. I might even beg."

  "Would you use force or weapons?"

  She pulled back a little, remembering the bruise on his arm. "No! Never!"

  He ran his hand up her hip and along the curve of her waist, pulling her closer again, into a long, lingering kiss that explored the possibilities between them. "This wasn't coercion. You haven't forced me to do anything, Candy. You didn't exactly tie me up and rape me."

  She closed her eyes and swallowed the tears that threatened. "I didn't take you immediately to the U.S. Embassy, either. I brought you here. I spent enough money to make you feel obligated."

  He laughed softly as he licked the underside of her chin, another spot she'd never even suspected was an erogenous zone. "Whose side are you on, Candy?"

  She tried to pull away, to put enough distance between them to think objectively. "I am a lawyer, remember? I'm supposed to know better. I know what I did was wrong. Coercion doesn't have to be physical."

  "So you spent money on me. Having money and being willing to spend it isn't a crime, Candy. Quit thinking so damn much. I escaped from armed guards, remember? More than once. I could have escaped from you too. I could have overpowered you or just walked out that door while you were asleep. I’m here, right now, because I want you. We can talk all night or we can fuck. What do you want, Candy?"

  She found herself laughing as she rolled over him to straddle his hips. "I want to fuck."

  He rolled with her, wrestling until she let him win, then just poised there, his aching cock inches from where they both wanted it.

  No. Not like this. Not in a hurry. He wanted more.

  He stared down at her, the naked beauty who held him captive more effectively by the force of her passion than any previous owner's chains ever had. She found him attractive. She wanted him. The wonder of it washed over him. Tomorrow would have to take care of itself. Right now there was only her, only Candy, and a fire that burned within him in a part of his soul he'd thought long dead.

  Tomorrow would raise its ugly head soon enough. Tonight needed to be something special. Something…memories stirred. They were in the Orient, after all…what could be more appropriate. He pulled the sheet over her to keep her from getting chilled.

  "Shhh. Wait here just a minute. I promise I won't leave you alone for long."

  She smiled up at him, her eyes trusting. "I'll miss you."

  The pang hit him low in the gut, a dull ache. There was nothing even vaguely similar about her. Nothing. And yet sometimes…

  He rolled to his feet, bending back over the bed to kiss her quickly and escape before she could see the memory in his eyes. She was here. She was now. She was real. And he needed this. Lord, how he needed this. It was time to let go of the past.

  A smile quirked his lips as he gathered the candles from the living room into the crook of his arm. There were roses in the vase on the dining table, still fresh despite the tropical climate. But then, the air inside was climate controlled. His nipples hardened as a blast of refrigerated air hit him.

  Matches. Naturally there were matches to go with the candles. He remembered seeing them but…next to the mini bar. He'd seen them next to the crackers…a lifetime ago.

  The hotel staff might almost have been planning this, he thought as he arranged the candles in front of the vanity mirror. The size and depth of the huge heart-shaped tub had annoyed him with its extravagance when he first saw it. In his other life, whole families had lived in huts smaller than this hotel's bathroom. Now he appreciated its opulence.

  Perfect.

  This had to be perfect.

  If there was one gift he could give her, it was patience.

  The water pressure was good. The tub wouldn't take too long to fill. He pulled the petals off of the roses, dropping them into the steaming water, then carefully broke the fruity hips, dropping those into the water as well. Last came a handful of bath oil beads, from a bowl arranged decoratively on the vanity. He wondered absently if they were supposed to be merely ornamental.

  Not tonight.

  He looked up from breaking open the beads, alerted by something, though she'd made no noise. She stood in
the doorway, transfixed, as if caught in a time rift. Aphrodite wrapped in a hotel sheet. He went hot and cold, suddenly nervous at being caught in the act. If she laughed…

  She wasn't laughing. She was trying not to cry. Unreasonable anger towards a man he'd never met washed over him then he let it go. There was no room for that here tonight. Another day, perhaps. If they had other days.

  He held out his hands to her, palms up, and she let go of the sheet as she crossed the room to him. Candlelight reflected off the mirrors to play over her skin, soft, pale, luminescent. He gathered her close to kiss her, marveling again at the taste of her lips, the feel of her so soft and acquiescent in his arms.

  The water was perfect, hot and steamy and fragrant with the roses. He rested against the gentle curve of the heart's bow, guiding her to lay her head under his chin when she would have taken the opposite side. She settled slowly between his thighs, his knees on either side of her, as she relaxed enough to find the curves where they fit together, her head barely above the water level.

  "This is nice," she whispered, as if surprised. "This is…I like this."

  He leaned forward to caress her ear with his lips. "You inspire the romantic in me."

  She loosened slowly, trusting him to keep her head above the water, as the steam penetrated her tight, tired muscles. He ran his hands over her arms, massaging gently at the knots where she stored the tension in her shoulders.

  "Mmm."

  He smiled at the purr in her voice. His hands roamed lower, over her shoulders, down along her sides, over the curve of her hips and back up, over the soft curve of her belly, outlining her breasts, but not touching. Not yet.

  Her hands woke up, to trace the outline of his legs wrapped around her. She brushed backwards against the hair, sending tiny shivers over his skin. "No fair," he whispered.

  "You mean I'm not allowed to touch?"

  "No. I get to do all the work this time. This is all for your pleasure."

  "Mmm. But touching you pleases me."

  That little pang of warning hit him down low again, but he ignored it. He lifted her hands and placed them over her own breasts. "Show me what you like."

  Her hands stilled, then moved, hesitantly at first, shy beneath his. She lifted her breasts slightly, so that he could feel the weight of them, then circled the nipples with her thumbs, barely brushing the tight, taught tips. A shudder passed through him, surprising him with its intensity, and he bent his head to bite gently on her shoulder. Heat surged like molten fire through him as his erection turned painfully hard.

  He stilled for a moment, letting things calm down, then tightened his hands over hers just a little, massaging her fingers into her breasts. He felt her respond, her breasts thrusting out to meet him just a little.

  Patience. This was about taking things slow, right?

  Straightening her legs against the bottom of the tub, she slid slowly up his wet, bath-oil slicked chest, until they were closer positioned, then tucked her legs over his, spreading herself open for him, like inviting a hungry man to a feast. His ravenous cock approved.

  But his mind was in control here. Yeah. Right. Like maintaining control was even an option around this woman. Still, he had had a plan. He slid his right hand down lower, tracing her belly again, sliding across the soft skin of her inner thigh, the water lapping against his arm with a sound like the gentle waves of a low tide receding.

  She practically jumped out of the water when his fingers brushed over the soft wet tendrils of hair at her apex. He rested his fingers there, just touching, not demanding, until she settled back against him. "So soft," he whispered as he stroked over her, nothing more, really, then a wisp of a touch. "So perfect." He let one finger drift between her lips, teasing, testing, though he already knew what he'd find. She was slick and ready for him, ready and impatient. He stroked gently, outlining her lips, feathering her soft folds of skin until they bloomed beneath his touch. She bucked against his hand, refusing to be gentled.

  "You said we were going to fuck. Now you're torturing me. Not fair."

  "No. You said you wanted to fuck. I decided I wanted to make love to you instead. We can fuck later."

  She groaned, rocking her head back against him as she raised her hips toward his fingers. "I want you now!"

  "Patience, kitten. Patience."

  Very slowly she relaxed against him, submitting to his long, careful exploration of her body, mewing in contentment as his hand replaced hers on her breast. Slow was good. Yes, slow was good. Except…

  What was she doing with her hands?

  A groan tore from his lips. She'd spread her cheeks, enveloping him between the soft mounds and then let go, clenching against him with all of her small strength. "Do you not understand slow, woman? You're bad for my concentration."

  "Good," she agreed. "Because I haven't had any since I met you."

  She tightened around him, then released again, the feeling almost like being inside her, her skin wet and slick, her muscles toned and—

  No.

  She was not going to break his control. Not this time.

  He lifted her, setting her once again where he wanted her, telling his randy cock to quit trying to run the show. Slow. This was going to be slow. She mewed in protest as he pulled her back against his chest, her body weight pressing his cock between them. That would be good enough. For now.

  "Behave." He nipped her ear as he issued the order. He stilled his hands, letting her cool down a little as he waited patiently for her to relax. Finally she settled back against him, the water and the steam working their magic, her muscles melting into his until their bodies seemed to be joined at the nerve endings.

  You couldn’t exactly call this relaxed. Her body hummed against his like the vibrato of an opera singer as soon as he moved his hands. Hell. His cock wasn’t all that relaxed either. If she moved at all…

  He brushed his hands down her waist and over her thighs, back to where they had been, and she moved. She pressed against him as she opened her thighs wider, inviting him to touch wherever he wanted to. He reached deep inside of himself for control, for patience--

  He hadn’t meant to do that. He was just going to touch her, to tease, but somehow his fingers were inside her, her body demanding as she whimpered, trying not to respond. Maybe if he--

  She cried out, straining against the heel of his hand as he buried his fingers deep inside her. Lord. She was coming already, her body so taught he could have strummed her like a guitar. He closed his left hand over her nipple, pinching hard, and she screamed, climaxing against him in wave after shattering wave.

  He held her tightly against him, massaging gently until she calmed, listening to her breathing gradually slow. Then he let his fingers go back to work. Her eyes had drifted shut, and she was slow and lethargic to respond.

  Perfect.

  Raising her up just a little he slipped inside her, letting her own body weight settle her over his tortured cock as he let her go. "Mmm," she murmured as she slid down over him. "You feel good inside me."

  "Yes," he agreed, "I do." Damn. The angle was awkward, but it didn’t matter much. He felt at home.

  They lay like that, joined, but not moving, as he reached over to turn the hot water back on. The running water had a soothing effect, calming his shattered nerves. This was just sex, damn it. Great sex, but sex. Nothing more. Tomorrow he would…

  "I like the feel of you inside me. I could get used to this."

  Oh, yeah, that helped a lot. "Me too." And that was as close to the truth as he was going to let himself get tonight.

  He lifted her breasts, loving the feel of their weight in his hands. Her slick sheath tightened around him convulsively as he flicked his thumbs over the sensitive buds of her outthrust nipples. He pinched gently, rolling them between his fingers like little gummy bear toys. She rose up on his cock, surging into his hands, only to slam back down, trying to take more of him inside her.

  That was more than he could stand. The hell
with slow. The water lapped fiercely at the sides of the tub. "Ride me," he groaned, throbbing desperately within her. "Come for me, Candy."

  Her laughter promised retribution as she arched her back, sliding slowly up his pulsing length before she settled back again. "Slow, remember?"

  He pinched at her nipples, demanding. Her shuddering gasp was reward enough. "Bastard."

  "Yeah." He slid his fingers over her clit, riding her with his palm, his fingertips just out of reach. She surged up to meet him, her strength impressive as she clamped onto him, pulling him with her as she thrust against his fingers.

  Now it was his turn to groan. He found her hands and placed one on her own breast, the other with her fingers against the soft curls of her mons. "Your turn," he instructed as he scooped her hips into his hands. That was better. Now he could thrust up into her, slamming her weight back down against his aching cock, while she stroked her clit for him.

  He could just see her in the bathroom mirror, her image blurred by the water and the steam, her face a mask of concentration as she massaged her breasts, first the left, then the right. His fingers bit into her hips, driving her down harder, while his teeth closed over her shoulder, alternately biting and licking whatever skin he could reach.

  "Fuck me!" she demanded, her voice hoarse as she strained against him, pushing with her heels as she rode him hard now.

  "What happened to slow?" he demanded, laughing breathlessly against her ear.

  "This is slow, goddamn it!"

  All semblance of his control snapped as she tightened around him, her body jerking in frenzied release as her fingers stabbed at her clit. He heard a voice that sounded like his screaming her name as the waves washed over him, drowning him in sweet release. "Pom rak khun," he breathed. I love you…

  He stilled.

  Oh, shit. Where the hell had that come from?

  Chapter Four

  Thursday, 20 December, 2001

  "I can’t just walk into the US Embassy and say ‘Here I am, send me home,’ Candy."

  Candy watched Brooke pace, trying to figure out what he wasn’t telling her. "Why not?" She loved the way his hair hung in soft curls fresh out of the shower.