Christmas Eve (7 page)

Nick's in trouble, if my interested expression doesn’t give me away.

He sucked in a ragged breath and stared down at her, entrancing her with the blatant eroticism of his smile.

She wouldn't have believed it possible, but his genitals grew tighter and heavier looking as she extended her foot.

Like a woman obsessed, she ran manicured toes up the length of his cock. Rubbed her ankle against his balls. She wanted to make him ache the way he made her ache, and from his avaricious expression she had.

"What now, John Wayne?" she teased. "I was hoping
you
had something in mind."

*  * * * *

Priscilla's women frequently come up with some off-the-wall trick to try.

Eve didn't disappoint.

Leaping up, she shoved Nick down on the bed. "Stay right there. I have an idea," she said over her shoulder and he watched her pleasing butt disappear down the hall.

Leaning against the headboard, he waited for Eve, a host of erotic scenarios playing on the big screen in his head, her mad dash from his room failing to show up in any of them.

He couldn't recall ever being so at ease around a woman. A man either, for that matter, except Gary, of course.

An expected but equally unwelcome ache invaded Nick’s chest.

He'd met Gary Thackary on maneuvers in Saudi Arabia just prior to the Gulf War. A low-in-rank infantryman, he could have taught the General in charge a lot about life.

Nick had never opened up to anyone the way he opened up to Gary, rather like the way he might have to the brother he'd wished for, but never had. Gary planned to open a car wash in Las Vegas after his discharge and to Nick's amazement offered him a partnership in his enterprise. Later, he'd even named Gary beneficiary in his will. Not that he'd had anything to leave him when the partnership papers were signed, but business partners looked out for one another, Gary had said.

Sharing danger brought them together, and by the time the war ended and they shipped home, their friendship had solidified and their lives were so completely entwined nothing short of a court order could have separated them.

Death had. Damn that
automobile accident. The kind of single-car accident only reported on the evening news because of a fatality. In Gary’s case, two. A blow out near Mesquite, Nevada, where Gary and the uncle who had raised him were headed to pick up an ailing friend.

The images from the news cast flashed in Nick's mind. Crumpled pieces of metal—all that remained of the uncle's Lincoln Town Car. A weak sidewall in a fairly new tire had blown with the same suddenness that made Gary a rich man when his uncle died, then Nick unbelievably wealthy when Gary had drawn his last breath on the way to the emergency room.

Making Nick a friendless rich man.

He would gladly give back every cent he'd inherited that horrible night to have his friend and business partner back.

Nick sank deeper into the pillows, realizing that Eve reminded him of Gary. Not her looks. Homely best described his friend. It was Eve's easy way of talking about everyday things that recalled Gary to him.

And like Gary, Eve knew when to keep silent, and to sense when Nick was in the mood to talk.

Down the hall an overhead light flashed on in the kitchen. One of the hinges on a cabinet squeaked open, then the door clicked shut. A utensil scraped. The light flickered out. Nick waited, impatient and curious.

What was Eve up to? He couldn't wait to find out.

She burst into the room, her wide grin triumphant. Smug.

Did he smell cherries? And just what did she plan to do with the measuring cup and pastry brush in her hands?

"We're in luck," she said, placing her burden beside him on the bed. "This is still warm. Now, just lie still and close your eyes."

Nick tried lying flat, then scrunched two pillows, stuffing them beneath his head. When he finally stilled, he discovered his heart was thumping at an accelerated rate.

Even the intriguing gleam in Eve's eye added to the air of anticipation that had started building the moment she left the room. From the darkness? From desire? From curiosity, for sure.

* * * * *

Eve watched a muscle in Nick's arm quiver. Another on his broad chest.

Keep him waiting a little longer. Enjoy this sensual encounter to the fullest. Make him mine in every possible way
.

His long toes had recently received a pedicure but the callous-roughened skin on the underside begged for attention. Why not give his feet more than he'd bargained for?

Turning her back to him, Eve straddled his thighs.

As she drizzled warm, sugary sauce over a bony toe, Nick groaned. "I'm going to get even with you for this, when you—"

A sharp intake of breath as Eve wrapped her tongue around the sweetened appendage and began to suckle his toe ended Nick's promise of revenge. Beneath her, he writhed in ecstasy. His lustful movement encouraged her to give the rest of his toes the same treatment, one long length at a time. She moved on to the soles of his feet before tasting the smooth skin at the back of his knees. Then, turning around to face him, still straddling Nick, she sampled the flat firmness of his abs.

Threading his fingers through Eve's hair, Nick tried to distract her.

That’s not gonna happen.
She moved restlessly beneath his hands instead, let her breath warm his chest, followed by the soft strokes of her pastry brush and the sticky warmth of syrupy cherries.

"What the Hell are you doing?" He tried so hard not to laugh when her brush tickled his ribs, but failed miserably.

She grinned. "Well, Mr. Nick St. Clair, I'm turning you into Santa Claus with cherries jubilee sauce. Want a taste?"

Her finger penetrated the seam of his lips, then slipped inside his mouth.

"This reminds me of a similar scene from the movie version of
Tom Jones
. " Nick enthusiastically licked off the thick syrup with his tongue. She went back to work on his torso, the softness of her strokes intended to drive him wild. Focused on the task at hand, she hummed a happy, tuneless song.

From Nick's expression, he was enjoying himself immensely. He closed his eyes and murmured, "You’re one in a million. How did I get so lucky?"

The careful strokes of Eve's brush ceased and for a breathless instant she leaned over him, her warm breath fanning across his stomach, followed by the gentle stroke of her wet tongue.

Nick clenched his teeth against her unexpected assault and squirmed.

Then she swirled the tip of her hot tongue round and round his navel and when it stopped, he looked ready to weep. She lapped along his ribs, a bear cub seeking thick honey, sweet and warmed by the sun.

Nick groaned.

Eve grinned, pleased to be the instrument of his pleasure after the earlier delights Nick had given her. He'd done unexpectedly erotic things to her body, aroused sensations she'd never dreamed possible with lips and tongue, just to satisfy her needs.

Her body still pulsed and throbbed from the intensity of her last release. She had thought applying the remaining syrup to Nick's broad chest with a brush would give her body a much needed rest, but now realized her mistake. Her plan to heighten his sexual pleasure was rapidly increasing her own.

Her long, flowing hair brushed his abs. As she worked her way down his torso, Nick began to pant.

"I feel like a bowl of milk lapped up by a playful kitten. My body has turned to jelly, my mind to mush. Has anyone ever told you that you have a very wicked, wet tongue? Which part of me are you going to taste next?" His desire-roughened voice curled her toes.

In an effort to appease her own desire, she sat on her bare foot and tried to shut her ears to the tenor of Nick's libidinous moans.

His waiting cock remained, the one part of his body she had not sucked clean. She'd saved the best for last and bent to the task with lusty enthusiasm.

Like cherry-flavored fine porcelain, the delicate flesh teased and tempted her tongue. She licked furiously, making little slurping sounds, turning herself on as much as she had turned on Nick.

His smooth cock jerked convulsively as she licked.

"Oh, yes. There. Lick every inch from head to base," he pleaded, and then the dam of his restraint burst. He locked his fingers in her thick hair and gently forced her to look at him.

"Hey, lady. Wanna ride?"

Her suggestive laugh made him buck wildly with need. Her recent efforts had left his penis squeaky clean, but when she started to straddle him, he held her at arms length and reached into the bedside table drawer.

She might be willing to take him without protection, but he was not that careless and his responsible action pleased her.

With a sigh that he duplicated, she traced his ribs with her fingertips as she sheathed him in her warm cocoon. He caressed her breasts, making her heart pound, and her eyes glaze over. Then she began to move slowly up and down on him, her knees pressed against his hips. Down, then up she moved, her eyes never leaving his face, each stroke going deeper, each ramming home.

Suddenly her breath caught on a strangled cry and her skin flushed. Head thrown back, she bobbed up and down just out of his reach until caught by a passion-induced wave.

At the first uncontrolled twitch of her muscles, Nick pulled her tight to his chest. His next thrust brought him up off the bed so that her heated flesh caressed his from neck to navel and beyond. The ensuing erotic slap of flesh inspired a furious rut.

Her prolonged, heated climax brought about Nick’s release, a mind-emptying rush of such intense feeling he shouted. Twice. And rolled on top of her, driving into her in one final, hard thrust.

Much later, he slid to one side. Their sticky, cherry-stained skin separated with a sweaty squeak.

Eve giggled.

Nick grinned. "This cowboy needs a shower. How about you?"

Chapter Nine

Nick's mountain retreat reminded Eve of a sprawling ranch house on a TV western. Or was this his home? She knew so little about him. He was slow to volunteer information. So close-mouthed, he'd put a tortoise to shame.

Her thoughts ended abruptly when Nick, not the least bit self-conscious about his nudity, opened the door at the far end of the bathroom to what she had wrongly assumed was a linen closet. His proud grin welcomed her to his private domain, then he shoved the door further open and motioned for her to step into a world dominated by ebony black and shiny chrome.

Even the deep plush carpet beneath her feet with the silky feel of faux fur was black. A collection of Sharper Image exercise equipment and fancy gadgets—she could not begin to imagine their use—vied for her attention along one far wall. She buried her toes in the carpet and glanced around.

A portable sauna filled one corner. A glassed-in shower took up another.
Clear
glass. Beyond the shower she could see a private garden now buried under a foot of snow. Her heart skipped when she realized that neither privacy curtain nor frosted glass would block an outsider's view. If she stepped into that enormous shower, she would feel as vulnerable as a school girl about to disrobe for her first after-gym-class shower.

"Wow." She looked in awe at the myriad of recessed lights.

Eve's eyes opened wider when water began to rain from the ring of showerheads suspended from the ceiling at just the right height.
His
. And like magic fingers, each of the precisely positioned sprays aimed at certain parts of his body that needed to relax.

A shower promised to revive her tired muscles so recently put to the test.

And afterwards, who knows?

Her pulse quickened in anticipation.

"After you." Nick gestured toward the shower, then fiddled with what looked to Eve like a remote. "You're in for a treat."

She stepped inside. He followed, and closed the clear glass door.

Clouds of steam rose from a spray so fine it tickled her skin. The tiled floor cooled her feet, but the persistent stream of water was the exact temperature she preferred. Heavenly.

She glanced over her shoulder at Nick. "Would you mind if I wash my hair?"

He turned from the panel of intimidating electronic gadgets dominating one wall and grinned at her. "I'd be disappointed if you didn't. I do get to watch, right?"

Eve considered herself lucky to have recognized a bottle of her favorite lemon-scented shampoo on a recessed shelf inside the stall. She wet her hair and massaged the rich cream into it.

Just before Nick stepped up beside her, the lights dimmed. Then the steady beat of "Bolero" thrummed from speakers mounted high on each wall. The music started like the quiet fluttering of a bird, but built in volume and intensity until Eve felt as if her feet were absorbing the haunting strains.

Her calves and other fleshy parts of her body vibrated sensually and a delicious weighty feeling settled in the apex of her thighs.

While warm water cascaded down on her head, rinsing the shampoo from her hair, the music worked a hypnotic spell on her.

Then Nick pressed a switch on the wall. The flow of water from overhead diminished and a fine spray came from all sides and up from the tile floor. The spray bathed her legs from knees to ankles like a summer shower, soft and warm.

Nick squeezed a dollop of liquid bath soap in his palm, then lathered her body with probing hands. She recognized the sweet smell of gardenias, Bath Barn's finest. Soon, her body was white with lather, sweet smelling and so hot from Nick's caresses she could hardly stay upright.

As he gathered her into his arms, her lather became his lather. His skin grew slick like hers, and wildly seductive.

Eve quivered against him, her body's wantonly sinful reaction surprising, but unable to stop herself. Not with his hard body pressed erotically close to hers.

* * * * *

Nick chuckled, and cupped Eve's butt with lathered hands while she explored his soap-slickened back and thighs, then splayed her hands over his butt. Her hesitant touch drove him wild. Hot and needy, she rubbed her firm, silky breasts against his chest.