He knew the question she was asking in that one word. Was there any sort of future for them?
Claire was ten years younger than him, at the beginning of her career, while he was settled into a routine at the FBI, living two thousand miles away in Texas. But in all his thirty-five years, he'd never felt this attraction to a woman, and he had to find some way to explore it.
Starting with now, under Claire's sweatshirt.
"I don't leave until two days after Christmas. Think you can spare some time for me?" he asked, even as he worked her shirt up.
Claire sat up so she was next to him on the couch, facing his way. Her shirt fell back down much to his disappointment. "I told you what I want for Christmas is you, so I think I can squeeze you into my schedule."
The sassy little thing reached out and stroked the front of his jeans. "You're a great present—much better than an iPod."
Predictably, Justin swelled beneath her touch. "I'm the gift that keeps on giving."
She gave a sexy, husky laugh. "Oh, I like the sound of that. We should tie a ribbon on you. Right here." She squeezed him.
Justin clenched his teeth. "That's not going to happen."
"You're no fun."
"That's completely untrue. I can be a riot." Justin flipped Claire onto her back and had her pants down in about three seconds.
She blinked up at him.
"See? Isn't this fun?"
And he kissed her right on her clitoris, flicking over her with his tongue.
Chapter Six
Claire had cussed in at least six languages by the time Justin lifted his mouth from her, his lips shining.
She was half sitting up, every muscle in her body tense, every nerve firing. Her breath came out like a buffalo snorting when he left her teetering on the edge yet again, for the third time in as many minutes.
"Having fun yet?"
"I'm going to kill you if you don't finish what you started."
He took a long leisurely lick up one side, down the other, while she shuddered. "They'll throw you in jail for that, you know."
Arching her hips up to press her point home, Claire knew she'd never doubt his tongue talents again. Holy cow, happy crap, mucho delicious, he had her boneless, brainless.
"You know, if you don't want to put your tongue back—you know, like if maybe you're tired—you could always put something else there."
"Like what?" He was licking a path up past her navel, a tickling wet trail that had her squirming, her inner thighs feeling betrayed even further. "What could you possibly be talking about?"
He didn't think she'd say it. He was wrong. She had no qualms about calling a spade a spade. Especially when she wanted it. "You know. Your big, hot cock."
Justin's eyes went wide with shock. Then he made a sort of growling sound down in his throat. "Damn, Claire, you weren't kidding when you said you're not shy. I'll never make that mistake again."
"Am I woman enough for you?" She was teasing, but at the same time, she wanted to know that he could see her as an equal, not Derek's kid sister. Reaching down, she felt his thickness with her hand, stroked up and down.
"Oh, yeah." Justin kissed her, his salty lips pressing hard on hers. "The only woman I want."
While she was swallowing the sudden grapefruit-size lump in her throat, he pushed into her with a smooth shift of his body over hers. Air rushed out of her lungs and her eyes pricked. She stared at him, shocked. It was love she was feeling, this strange hyperexcitement. This giddy sense of wonder.
How absolutely freaking ridiculous.
But Justin slowed his strokes down, locked eyes with her. "Claire…"
"Yes?" she whispered, suddenly afraid. Nothing had ever mattered to her quite as much as the words Justin was about to speak.
"I … I think…" He closed his eyes briefly. Then took a deep breath. "How crazy would it be to say that I care about you? That I want to … be with you."
"Not crazy at all." Claire grabbed his shoulders, hauled him down for a searing kiss. "I think maybe when you have a six-year crush on someone, it's really been more than a crush all along."
Then she clamped her legs around his thighs and shoved him, hoping to roll him on his back so she could really feel him deep inside her. Except in her haste, she'd miscalculated. That they were still on the couch.
For a brief precarious minute, they hovered, before crashing to the carpet in a heap of naked body parts. Justin's head cracked the floor because he reached out and held onto her, cushioning her fall. The little chivalrous cutie. Claire grinned in pure giddiness.
"Oops."
"Yeah, I'll oops you," he grumbled, adjusting his shoulder. "But somehow we managed to stay together. That's pretty damn impressive, don't you think?"
It felt pretty damn impressive. Claire wiggled a bit to gain her balance, than started slow up-and-down movements on him. "Mmm, yes, I do think it's very impressive."
"Do you think that means something? Could we qualify for an award or anything? Guinness Book of Sexual Stunts?" He assumed an announcer's voice. "Even wild tigers couldn't rip them apart."
Claire was laughing so hard she couldn't get her rhythm right. She felt like she was dancing offbeat.
"What's the matter with you? Got an itch?" he said in mock bewilderment, eyebrows going up. "You'd better hurry up and get moving. I'm old. I can't keep it up forever."
That had her laughing even harder. "Stop that. I can't concentrate when you're making me laugh."
"Told you I was a riot." But before she could reply, he rolled her on her side and thrust hard up inside her. "You don't have to do all the work. Just meet me halfway, Claire."
His words were gruff, but she heard their meaning. She pushed her hips to meet his, a small groan leaving her lips. "I can do that. I can definitely do that."
They moved together, bodies joined tightly, legs intertwined, her heart racing and her head resting on the carpet. Justin's breath mingled with hers, and his eyes drove inside her, taking and claiming.
When he came, she let go and went with him, digging into his skin, slick with sweat. As she burst, she realized that she had never thought it could be like this, so elemental, so raw, so real. So right.
"You're beautiful," he said. "Just beautiful."
And she was suddenly the one who felt slapped. Slapped with pleasure, and an eager hope.
Chapter Seven
Claire didn't think about answering or not answering the phone when it rang. She just reached for it automatically. "Hello?"
"Who is this?" a suspicious woman's voice cut through the sex-and-sleep induced fog Claire was in.
"It's Claire, Derek's sister," she said, remembering that she was at her brother's house. In his bed. With Justin.
Taking a peek over her shoulder, she saw Justin was still sleeping, the sheet up to his waist.
"Claire? What are you doing at my apartment?"
It was Reese, her sister-in-law, and Claire couldn't help but blurt out in a whisper, "Reese! Oh, my God. I slept with Justin. And I am totally and completely in love."
"You and Justin? Hey, that's been a long time in coming, hasn't it? Cool. So did you just come over and jump him or what?"
She knew she could trust Reese to see her side of things. "I got iced by the snowplow, and I was right around the corner from your place. Justin being here was a happy surprise. Then I jumped him." Or coaxed him into doing the jumping.
"Hang on." There was a rustling on the other end as she covered the phone. "Justin," Reese said, her voice a little muffled. "So what? Calm down, Knight, she's a grown woman." Reese uncovered the phone. "Your brother's having a heart attack."
Reese didn't sound too worried about it.
"I owe you guys some condoms. And you have no food in this apartment. It was a struggle to pull together pasta."
"We're in New York, why does there need to be food in our apartment in Chicago? And don't worry about the condoms—we don't need them anymore. It turns out your brother has knocked me up. We're very h
appy, but Knight's a little nervous about the whole thing."
"Are you serious? A baby?" The thought made Claire feel all warm and fuzzy. "That's so awesome! I'm going to be Auntie Claire."
"Yeah, well, the poor kid isn't exactly getting a domestic goddess for a mother … hey!"
There was a scuffle on the other end before Derek's voice came over loud and clear. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Claire?"
Curbing the urge to stick her tongue out at the phone, she said, "I'm having sex with Justin. Now let's talk about you. Congratulations! Reese says you're going to be a daddy. Is she okay? She sounds kind of tense."
"She's just a little nervous. She grew up without a maternal influence, you know. But I know she's going to be an incredible mother. I'm not the least bit worried. I'm ecstatic." His voice softened, and Claire felt tears pricking her eyes.
"I'm thrilled for you, Derek."
There was a pause during which he cleared his throat, then said, "Thank you. Now don't change the subject. Put Justin on the phone."
Claire rolled her eyes. "That's not going to be helpful."
"Put him on the phone. Now."
This could go on for hours, so Claire decided to just get it over with. "Fine. Chill."
She turned and found Justin staring at her, still on his back, but very much awake. Wild-eyed, in fact. Intense.
"Totally and completely in love?" he asked.
Oops. She'd never been all that good at whispering. Tucking the phone into sheets, she raised her chin. "Yes. I am in love with you." No point in lying about it after the fact.
Justin had experienced a woman telling him she loved him before. He'd even thought once or twice that he returned those feelings.
But nothing, nothing, had prepared him for the intensity of having Claire speak those words. She was rumpled from sleep, wearing one of her brother's oversized T-shirts, her expression defiant, like she expected him to balk.
That wasn't what he wanted to do. What he wanted to do was take her in his arms and make love to her, slowly and sweetly. Show her how much it meant to him that she felt love for him. That quite possibly he felt the same.
But first he had to talk to her brother.
His mouth was gritty, chin stubbly, muscles stiff, head itchy. He hadn't had enough sleep, and he was about to get bitched out by Derek. Yet he felt fantastic. Like he could run a 20K without breaking a sweat. Like he was in love.
"I'm in love with you, too. Now give me the phone."
Her mouth dropped open, a little "uhh" coming out. Then she handed him the phone without a word.
He sat up and put the phone to his ear. "Hey, Derek, congrats on the baby." Justin took the aggressive tack.
"Don't give me that, Fairbanks. I give you a place to stay and you … take advantage of my sister."
Justin pictured Claire naked in the bathroom, casually holding her hand out for a towel. Yeah, he'd worked real hard to get her out of her clothes. Please. "Your sister is an adult, and anything between us is mutual."
"She's young, and you're too damn old for her."
That had been his very own argument, but it seemed so irrelevant now. "You know, Claire is the same age Reese was when you met her. And yet I'm a year younger than you were at the time."
"You're scum, Fairbanks."
But there was no heat in the insult. Justin knew Derek was a reasonable guy. He'd come around. He was just trying to protect his sister.
"If you hurt her, I'll kill you. I mean it."
Justin glanced over at Claire, whose cheeks were flushed pink, her blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders. "Got no plans to do that, Knight. Now how about you worry about your wife and baby, and I'll worry about your sister from here on out."
"You're serious about her?"
"Very serious."
"God, where are my antacids?" Derek sighed. "Alright, I guess I can think of worse guys than you to have around all the time. Now Reese called because she wanted to know if we got a fax. She's expecting something for work."
"No fax."
"Okay, I'll talk to you later. Tell Claire I expect to see her when we get home the day after Christmas."
"I'll let her know."
After he hung up, he told Claire, "Your brother expects to see you when he gets home."
She rolled her eyes. "It's because he's so much older than me, you know. And before our mom married my dad, after her divorce from Derek's dad, he had to be the man around the house, you know? It makes him overprotective."
"He says he'll kill me if I hurt you."
"He probably means it. But you don't plan on hurting me, do you?" She leaned closer to him, let her eyes drop to his lips. "Not if you love me."
"No, I don't plan on hurting you. And about that. Loving you." Justin snaked his arm around her waist. She was warm, and smelled good, like vanilla. "What do we do now? Freak out? Have a cow? Call the media and announce it?"
"We'll do what all people in love do. I'm going to move to Dallas or you're going to move back to Chicago." She snuggled up against him and squeezed his biceps. "We're going to spend lots of time together. Then in a year or two we're going to get married."
"Oh." Justin leaned against the headboard, pulled her flush up against him. He stroked her back, feeling ridiculously happy. "Good thing I have you to explain these things to me."
Claire's fingers moved down, down, down, until they hit pay dirt. She loved Justin's body, all its hard planes and angles. "Some men need a firm hand guiding them."
He groaned. "I think I'm one of those."
She laughed and pulled back a little. "Thanks for waiting for me to grow up, Justin. It wasn't right when I was eighteen, but it is now."
Justin traced his finger over her lips. "You were meant for me, Claire. Here's to a Merry Christmas."
"And a Happy New Year, of course."
"You change your mind about buying a house?" His eyebrows went up and down. "Come here, let me show you my for sale sign."
Claire kissed his finger and laughed. "I think I'm going to rent-to-own."
And she rolled onto him to prove it.
Chapter One
Three days before Christmas, City Planner Cami Bennett looked at her reflection in the Town Hall employee bathroom mirror and gave herself the silent pep talk. You can do this. You can do something besides work your tail off. In fact, having fun is just like work, only … better. Probably.
Oh, who was she kidding? She liked the big O's—order and organization.
Orgasms would have been a nice addition to that list, but due to being a little uptight—and, okay, a lot anal—those kinds of O's were few and far between.
Now the big city hall annual Christmas party was later tonight, a masked ball where "fun would be had by all," and she was required to go.
Oh, goodie.
It wasn't that she was the female equivalent of Scrooge, but more that everyone at work always seemed to go on and on about the holiday ad nauseum—decorations, gifts, travel plans. Somehow, they'd all built themselves personal lives as well as careers, something
Cami hadn't managed to do, and Christmastime just emphasized the failure on her part. She hated the pressure of the parties, the expense of buying her family gifts they didn't need or want, and, most especially, the loneliness.
Until now she hadn't had much time to think about it, not with the huge town shake-up that had involved the mayor and his very pretty boyfriend's private sex tapes being stolen and posted on the Internet for perusal by anyone with $29.95. It'd been the biggest scandal Blue Eagle had seen in decades, and no one yet knew how the rest of the town's staff was going to fare when all the cards finished falling.
Especially since the now-ex-mayor's boyfriend had turned out to be two weeks shy of legal age and the son of the DA.
Ouch.
The front page of the Sierra Daily had showed a picture of Tom Roberts, stripped of his mayor's title, being led out of his office in handcuffs.
Talk about airing
your dirty laundry in public.
A couple of councilmen had been dragged through the mud as well, one with a paternity scandal and the other with a bank scandal. Both accusations looked false, but were ugly nevertheless.
Morale had never been lower in Blue Eagle.
A soft sound came from one of the bathroom stalls, a sort of … mewl. "Excuse me," Cami said to the closed door. "Are you okay?"
The only answer was a whimper.
Concerned, Cami moved closer. "Do you need help?"
"Oh, God. Yes!"
Cami bent down and looked beneath the stall. She could see a pair of Jimmy Choo black toeless pumps, the ones Cami had drooled over in Nordstrom's but had not bought, choosing instead to pay her mortgage for the month.
Facing the opposite direction of the Choos was a pair of men's black leather dress shoes, equally expensive, and Cami went still. She knew a man who wore shoes like that. Ned Kitridge. He was a city councilman, and her casual date for the past two months.
Embarrassment warred with fury.
Fury won.
Before her eyes, the woman's pumps lifted off the ground and vanished. There was a thunk against the stall door, and a long female sigh of pleasure.
And then the sound of a zipper.
In shock, Cami watched as an empty condom packet hit the floor.
Steaming, horrified, she staggered back. Even the bathroom was seeing more action than she.
And with Ned, Ned, a man who hadn't made a move on her, not once in six dates!
As her ego hit the floor next to the condom wrapper, Cami grabbed her purse and exited the bathroom, nearly blinded by an unhealthy mix of anger and mortification. But could she just slam out of the building? No. She couldn't abandon her compulsive, organized, anal routine. Hating that she couldn't, she meticulously shut off her adding machine and the light over her drawing board, glancing at the new sticky note on her computer.
Cami,
I need to talk to you before the ball. Meet me in the conference room at 7:45.
Ned
Yeah, she just bet he needed to talk to her! Only a few moments ago, she had assumed—hoped—he'd actually pick her up at her place so they could go to the ball together. For eight weeks now, he'd driven her crazy with his need to take things slow. Slower than a snail's-pace slow. Slower than icicles-melting slow. So-slow-she'd-been-losing-interest slow.
Anthology - The Night Before Christmas Page 8
