Kissing Jenna

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Kissing Jenna Page 16

by Kristen Proby


  “Ugh, that fucking sucks.” She takes my hand and kisses my fingers. “I’m sorry.”

  “It was a long time ago.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “She still lives in L.A., last I heard. She has a nice house and all of the things she always wanted. She just doesn’t have me.”

  “Do you make sure she has those things?”

  I frown. “You see too much.”

  “I’m learning you,” she agrees. “You love her, and I could see you making sure she’s okay, even if you don’t want to see her. Is Nina close to her?”

  “Not super close, but she sees her once in a while.”

  She nods and yawns, then nibbles on a cracker. “I’m getting sleepy again.”

  “Eat your cracker, and then you can sleep.”

  She does as I say, which is a testament to how out of it she is. I hate that the fight has gone out of her today.

  I set our mugs aside, and we snuggle down into the covers again, falling asleep.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ~Jenna~

  “I’M BOOOOOOORED,” I say and throw my head back on the couch about as dramatically as I possibly can.

  “It’s only been three days,” Christian replies, his hands on his hips as he stares down at me in frustration. Not that he’s said he’s frustrated, but let’s be honest, I’d be frustrated with me.

  “Can’t we just go up and get you some new clothes from the tree house? I need to look in on them. Max is not good at this stuff, and I have guests.”

  “I’m not driving you on that road again,” he says, shaking his head. “No way, no how.”

  “It’s settled, then.” I stand and lean in to kiss his arm as I walk by. “I’ll drive.”

  “Jenna,” he says with a sigh, pushing his hand through his hair, which is definitely his signature I’m-gonna-spank-you move.

  “Christian, I have to go back up there. My business is up there. And you have to go up there because you have ski lessons and all of your things are there.”

  “I’ve cancelled the rest of the lessons,” he replies, and my jaw drops. “I need to be available to you.”

  “I’m fine.” I dance a fake jig and turn a circle, then hold my hands out and say, “Ta-da.”

  “Also, I know how to ski now. I feel confident that I’ll do great in the film. I’m good on the skiing.”

  “Well, you still need your things.”

  “I can pay someone to gather them and bring them to me.”

  I roll my eyes and sigh heavily. “None of that changes the fact that my property is up there, and I have to work.”

  “Tomorrow.” He walks to me and pulls me against him, rocking us back and forth. “Let’s pretend like we don’t have to go back up there for one more day.”

  “It’s like getting back on a horse,” I say, my words muffled by his chest. “You have to do it sometime. And aren’t you sick to death of these clothes?”

  “I just wash them every day.”

  “You’re being silly.”

  His arms tighten around me. “It was the scariest thing I’ve ever been through, and I’d rather not repeat it.”

  “Well, we won’t because we won’t wreck again,” I promise, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “It was a fluke, Christian. A complete accident.”

  “One more day,” he repeats, kissing the top of my head and breathing me in. “You seem to be feeling better today.”

  “I’m much better. No headache. And my chest bruises are fading. I haven’t even taken one pain pill today.”

  “I’m so glad.” He kisses my head again, and I let my hand move down to his ass, copping a feel.

  “If you’re not going to take me somewhere, we could get naked.”

  He leans back to smile down at me. “Feeling that good?”

  “Oh, yeah. I mean, have you felt this ass? It does things to me.”

  He smirks and lifts me easily into his arms, carrying me down the hall to my bedroom, the same way he did the other day after the accident.

  Except this time, he’s putting me to bed for completely different reasons.

  He sets me on my feet, and I immediately tear into his shirt, trying to get it over his head.

  “I need to get this thing off of you.”

  “You don’t like it?”

  “I’m sick of it,” I reply with a grin. “I don’t remember what you look like in anything else. It has to go.”

  I let it drop to the ground and smile in satisfaction.

  “Better?” he asks.

  “We’re getting there. Now, these jeans.”

  “They’re just jeans. They didn’t hurt anybody.”

  I laugh as I push my finger under the waistband and let it travel back and forth, the back of my finger rubbing against his warm skin. His abs are tight, and goosebumps break out over his flesh.

  “Do you like that?”

  “I like everything you do.”

  I press my lips to his chest as I flip the button free from his jeans and work them over his hips. They pool around his feet, and he steps out of them, tossing them aside in the process.

  My fingertip falls in the valley of that sexy V, and I bite my lip.

  “Damn, you’re hot. People magazine was right.”

  “Yours is the only opinion that matters,” he says. He still hasn’t touched me since he set my feet on the floor, so I take off my own clothes. His blue eyes immediately fall to the green and purple marks on my chest, and I see sadness in his gaze.

  “Hey, my eyes are up here,” I remind him, trying to lighten the mood.

  “I’m so sorry, baby.” He lifts his hand and gently brushes the pads of his fingers over the marks.

  “Stop.” My voice is firm, and his gaze flies to mine. “Stop feeling sorry. I’m not going to tell you again, it was an accident, and I feel fine. I’m not lying. There is nothing to forgive here. So please stop it and make love to me because a girl has needs when a sexy guy like you is standing in front of her.”

  “A sexy guy like me?” He swallows, and his face loosens into a smile. “I’m not sure I like that statement.”

  “No?”

  He shakes his head, his lips twitching, and my funny, flirty man is back. He advances on me, and I back up so he can’t touch me, moving toward the bed. The backs of my legs hit the mattress, and I sit, then crawl back. Christian follows me, crawling over me but not touching me.

  It’s fucking sexy.

  “What should I have said?” My breath is coming faster. My heart has sped up.

  Jesus, I want him.

  “You.” He leans down and licks my nipple. That’s the only point of contact, just his tongue on my nipple, and my whole body is on fire.

  On. Fucking. Fire.

  “I did say you.”

  “You said like you, and that doesn’t do it for me.” He licks the other nipple, and I want his hands on me everywhere, but the stubborn man refuses to touch me. “It’s just me.”

  “Just you,” I agree, my legs scissoring. “Now, touch me.”

  He kisses along my collarbone to my neck, to my sweet spot, and hangs out there, licking and nibbling.

  “Christian, you’re making me crazy.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he admits.

  “You won’t hurt me. Ever.” I cup his face in my hands. “I’m not fragile, damn it. I want your fingerprints on me, and I don’t want you to be gentle.”

  His eyes narrow.

  “Are you sure?”

  Rather than answer, I kiss him and hitch my leg over his hip, practically climbing him. I’m not lying when I say that I feel great.

  I need this with him. He’s been gentle and sweet for three days, and now I need him to ravage my damn body.

  He flips me over and pins my hips to the bed, my legs together, straddling me. He covers me, still kissing my neck as he pushes his hard cock between my ass cheeks.

  “Now that’s sexy,” I breathe.

  “No, you’re the
hot one. Your back is lean and firm. Your ass is perfect with two dimples in your low back.” He spreads my cheeks open with his thumbs, and before I know it, he’s easing himself inside me. “And since you asked for it, I’m going to leave a mark on you, right here.”

  His fingers dig into my ass, and he starts moving quickly, fucking me the way I asked. But I notice that he’s not letting me do much work, which I know is his way of making sure we both get what we want.

  I want it to be hard and fast and a bit wild.

  And he wants to make sure he’s taking care of me.

  And I love him for it.

  ***

  “I’m finally getting my ice cream,” I say the next day as we stand in line at Sweet Scoops, waiting our turn. It seems we’re not the only weirdos who like to eat ice cream in the winter.

  “There are so many flavors to choose from,” Christian says, staring at the menu. “What do you suggest?”

  “Well, you can always go with the huckleberry. That’s a staple in this town, and it’s delicious. I love the grasshopper. And the cherry cherry quite contrary.”

  “So, what you’re saying is, get a little of all of it.”

  I smile. “Exactly. Why don’t we get a couple of pints to take up to the tree house? We can share them later while we watch movies.”

  “Sounds good.”

  We get three pints, all of the ones I recommended, and then drive up the hill. Christian’s driving, and he’s moving at a snail’s pace.

  “I know that you’re taking it careful and all—”

  “Do not complain about my speed,” he says, his hands tightening on the wheel. This isn’t a good time to remind him that ice doesn’t care how fast you’re going. “We’ll get there eventually.”

  “Before I’m old and grey would be nice,” I mumble, earning a glare from him. “I’m not in a hurry.”

  “When do the guests arrive?”

  “In about an hour. I just want to take a look at the units to make sure that the cleaners did a good job and that Max didn’t let anyone get away with murder.”

  “He’s an intelligent man,” he reminds me. “Some have said he’s the most brilliant mind of our generation.”

  “Oh, God, don’t say that around him. He’ll walk around with a big head for weeks.”

  “I’m just saying that he’s smart enough to figure it all out.”

  “I’m a control freak.” I shrug and hold my breath as we pass by where our accident occurred. A tow truck came to get his rental days ago, but you can still make out where it was in the snowbank. We continue puttering up the hill, and I don’t breathe a sigh of relief until we park at the tree houses and he cuts the engine. “Okay, you were right. That sucked.”

  “It’ll get easier,” he says and jumps out of my car, then walks around to help me out. “I’ll go put the ice cream in my freezer while you check the units.”

  “Thanks. Don’t eat it all without me.”

  “I don’t want you to beat me up,” he says and winks at me as I walk into the Ponderosa. It smells freshly cleaned. A quick walk-through reveals nothing worth noting, which is exactly what I was hoping.

  I do the same walk-through in the Spruce unit, and I’m happy when it also comes up perfectly clean and ready for today’s guests.

  “How is it?” Christian asks from the doorway.

  “They’re great. Max and the cleaners did a good job.”

  “Told you.” He taps the end of my nose and leads me to the Tamarack. “I’m going to change out of these offensive clothes.”

  “Thank the good Lord.” He laughs as he walks away, and I immediately make myself a cup of decaf. “You might want to burn those.”

  “No way, these are my favorite jeans.”

  I chuckle as I add sugar to my coffee and then jump when my phone pings with a text.

  “Oh, that must be them.”

  Hey, Jenna. We’re running a little late and would love it if there was dinner waiting for us in the unit. I’m happy to pay for it. Would pizza be something you could do?

  “Is it them?”

  I show Christian the text, and he frowns.

  “Do many guests ask for that kind of service?”

  I stare at him for a moment and then bust up laughing.

  “If you remember correctly, you asked me about coffee and food when you got here.”

  “Yeah, I asked where I could get it, I didn’t ask you to do it for me. That was just a bonus.”

  “Well, I do sometimes get these kinds of requests. I wouldn’t mind getting the pizza, but I don’t really want to have to drive down for it.”

  “No.” He shakes his head adamantly. “Isn’t there a place up here? We’re still in the heart of ski season. Someone serves food.”

  “Excellent idea.”

  I make a phone call, and sure enough, the pub in the village serves pizza, and they’re going to deliver three of them to the tree house within the hour.

  “Okay, that’s taken care of. I think I’ll go wait for the pizza at the Ponderosa. Want to join me?”

  He grins. “Of course. Give me five to make my own coffee.”

  It takes him three, and then we’re walking the short distance to the other tree house. The snow has stopped falling, and it’s not terribly cold out.

  “Do you want to stand out on the deck for a bit?” I ask him.

  “In the snow?”

  I laugh and push up on my tiptoes to kiss him. “It’s not snowing now. I just want to step out for a minute.”

  “Let’s go.”

  We lean on the railing, sipping our coffee and watching skiers sail down the run to the village below.

  “This is a fun spot,” Christian says, just as a breeze kicks up.

  “Damn, it’s cold now. Let’s go in.” He shuts the door behind us, and I flip on the fireplace and sit on the couch. “How did you get this property?”

  “That’s actually a fun story,” I reply and set my cup aside. “The property itself had been for sale for a long time, mostly because it was a weird shape. It butts up against the resort, and the way it was before, it was a weird triangle. Not great for building something like this.

  “Well, thankfully, I know Jacob, and he owns said resort. So, I went to him and told him that I wanted to buy the property, but that we would need to rezone the property lines so I would give him a piece of my property in exchange for a piece of his, and he agreed.”

  “It’s not what you know, it’s who you know,” he says with a smile.

  “It’s both.” I hold up my mug in salute. “Jacob is a shrewd businessman. He knew that these tree houses would be beautiful and interesting to skiers. And he knew that I’d bring in more business for the resort, so it was a win-win situation.”

  “Sounds perfect,” he says with a nod. “I see that there’s another lot available for sale just below you.”

  “I’ve considered it, mostly because I’d like to make sure that no one can build on it and obstruct the view that I have here.”

  “That sounds completely reasonable. Why don’t you buy it?”

  I stare down into my mug. “Because I can’t afford to yet. I had to invite Max and Brad to be investors in the tree houses. They went over budget, and it was more money than I had on hand. They both jumped on board. I just acquired the property in the park a few months ago, and I have a mortgage on that. So, until I have those paid off, I can’t add more. It’s too much.”

  “Jenna, I can—”

  There’s a knock on the door.

  “That must be the pizza.”

  I jump up and set my mug on the kitchen island as I walk past it and pull the door open, then frown.

  “Hi, I’m Nina. Is my brother here?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  ~Jenna~

  I’M STRUCK DUMB. A petite brunette is standing in the doorway asking for Christian, and my brain doesn’t want to connect the dots.

  Why in the world is Nina here?

  “Um, yeah,” I re
ply and step back so she can come inside. “Christian,” I call out as Nina walks inside, squeals, and gives her brother a hug.

  “Hey,” Christian says, looking at me over Nina’s head with confused eyes. “What’s going on?”

  “Well, I was going to have to send the plane for you anyway, so I just came with it. I haven’t seen you in too long.” She steps back and looks around my tree house. “This is nice.”

  “Thanks,” I reply.

  “And you must be Jenna,” she says, holding out her hand for mine. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise.” I think. “This is actually a unit that I’m filling later today with guests. Christian’s is on the other side by the ski run.”

  She nods and hooks her dark hair behind her ear. “Well, this is definitely a great place. Christian, we need to get back to the plane right away.”

  “What the hell is going on?” he asks. “If you called or texted, I didn’t get it.”

  “You didn’t?” She scowls and checks her phone. “My text didn’t go through.”

  “What the fuck is going on?” he asks again.

  “Mom’s in the hospital,” she says. “I’m sorry you didn’t get my text earlier. She had a heart attack during the night, and they think she’s going to be okay, but we should probably get back.”

  I glance at Christian, whose jaw is clenched as he shoves his hand through his hair. He looks frustrated, but not particularly sad or worried about his mom. Maybe he’s just taken off guard?

  “You left your mom after she had a heart attack?” I ask, unable to keep the words inside, and Nina turns to me with glacial blue eyes.

  “You don’t know me,” she says, her voice heavy in warning. “You don’t get to question my choices.”

  “Sorry.” I hold up my hands in surrender, and then the reality of the moment hits me.

  He’s leaving.

  Today.

  Not in a week.

  Christian crosses to me and grips my shoulders before tipping his forehead to mine. “I’m so sorry, Jenna.”

  “Hey, it’s your mom. Of course, you have to go.”

  His face is covered in torment, so I wrap my arms around him and hug him tightly, trying to reassure him.

  “She’s going to be okay.”

  He presses his lips to my ear. “Are you going to be okay?”

 

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