The Christmas Wife (12 page)

“What’s Friday night?”

“Jude’s taking me to that new restaurant over in Park
Valley.”

“Jude?”  Claire stared at her.  “You’re dating Jude?”

Ellen grinned.  “We went for dinner last Friday and had a
great time.”

“Holy shit,” Claire said.  “That’s awesome.”

“We’ll see what happens.  He’s funny and good looking and
Lord, he’s a big man.  You know how I like my big men.”

Claire laughed.  “I do.  And yes, I am feeling well enough
to go shopping.  I don’t have anything to do until I pick up Hattie from
school.”

She hesitated, “It’s so weird to not be working.”

“You deserve it,” Ellen said immediately.  “You’ve worked
your ass off the last six years.  You deserve to be married to a sugar daddy
who has more money than God.”

Claire laughed.  “He’s not that rich, Ellen.”

“Whatever, Claire,” Ellen scoffed.  “Now, let’s go shopping
so I can find an outfit that’ll knock Jude off his feet.”

* * *

“Mama, are you listening to me?”  Hattie asked from the back
seat.

“Sorry, honey,” Claire said as she parked in the garage. 
Deacon’s car was parked neatly in its spot and she frowned in thought as Hattie
cheered loudly.

“Deacon’s home, mama!”

“Yes, I see that.”  As she helped Hattie out of the car she
hoped to God that he wasn’t sick.  She would feel horrible if he had caught the
stomach flu from her.  She shouldn’t have slept in his bed all weekend but it
had been oddly comforting.

She hurried into the house, Hattie in tow, and poked her
head into the kitchen.  Deacon was sitting at the island, eating an apple and
scrolling through his phone.

“Deacon?  Are you feeling okay?”  Claire asked.

He tucked his phone into his pocket and nodded.  “Yes, why?”

“You’re home early and I – “

“Deacon!”  Hattie launched herself at him and Claire watched
as Deacon tossed her into the air before sitting her in the crook of his arm. 

“Hi, Hattie.  How was your day?”

“It was good!  I had a math quiz today and I got a hundred
percent.”

“You did?  That’s great,” Deacon said.

“I’m really smart,” Hattie said and Deacon laughed as she
kissed him on the cheek.

Worry slithered into Claire’s belly.  Deacon’s previous
discomfort with Hattie had completely disappeared and it was the last thing she
had expected to happen.  If they grew much closer Hattie would be heartbroken
when they left.

It’s fine, Claire.  Just because Deacon is being nice to
Hattie doesn’t mean that they’re bonding for God’s sake.

“Why are you home so early?”  Hattie asked curiously.

“I have a surprise for you,” Deacon said.

“You do?”

“Yes.  Come on, I’ll show you.”  Deacon, still holding
Hattie in his arms, grinned at Claire and she dropped Hattie’s backpack on the
floor before following them upstairs.

He stopped in front of Hattie’s room.  “Close your eyes,
Hattie.”

She closed her eyes and he opened the door.  “Okay, open
them.”

Hattie shrieked with delight and Claire winced at the shrill
noise before stepping into the bedroom.

“Oh my God,” she said weakly.  “I – oh my God.”

“Do you like it, Hattie?”  Deacon asked.

“I love it!”  Hattie shouted before pounding on his back
with her tiny fists.  “Put me down, Deacon!”

He dropped her gently to her feet and grinned happily when
Hattie ran across the room and jumped on to the bed.  “It’s a car, mama!  It’s
a car!”

“I see that, Hattie,” Claire said. 

She stared in shock at Hattie’s room.  This morning it had
been exactly like it always was, pink walls and brimming with dolls and pretty
things.  The quintessential little girl room that every girl but Hattie
wanted.  Now, the pink walls were gone, replaced by the exact colour of the
Hulk’s green skin.  Posters of the Hulk and other superhero’s adorned the wall,
and the bookshelf that had been previously piled with dolls and stuffed animals
now held an assortment of cars and trucks and plastic superhero figurines. 

The canopy bed with its princess sheets had disappeared and
a bed, its frame sculpted to resemble a car with bright green stripes, was in
its place.  Hattie bounced on the bed, squealing with excitement, as Deacon
gave Claire an uncertain look.

“Claire?  What’s wrong?”

“When – how?”  She stuttered.

“I met with Lisa yesterday and she and her crew came today
after you took Hattie to school and redid the room.”

“Deacon, I…”

She trailed off and he gave her a sweetly nervous look. 
“You don’t like it?”

“No, I – I love it.  It was a very kind thing to do for
Hattie,” she whispered.  “But you shouldn’t have done this.  It had to have
cost a lot of money and we’ll be leaving in less than a month.”

A dark look flickered across his face before he smoothed it
away and shrugged carelessly.  “Hattie didn’t like her room.  I wanted to make
her happy for the few weeks that she’ll be here.”

“That’s very nice of you,” Claire said.  She was horrified
to realize that she was close to tears as she stared at her daughter.  She had
never seen Hattie happier and she swallowed thickly as Deacon touched her arm.

“Claire?  Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she nodded as tears slipped down her face.  “This is
the nicest thing anyone has ever done for Hattie, Deacon.  Thank you so much.”

The anxiety disappeared from his face and he gave her a
crooked grin.  “You’re welcome, Claire.”

“Mama, look!”  Hattie leaned over the bed and knocked on the
frame.  The bed frame sat low to the ground with no space between the frame and
the floor and Hattie grinned gleefully at her.  “The monsters can’t get under
the bed now!”

“No, honey, they can’t.”  Claire wiped away the tears and
smiled at her child.  “Which means you can sleep in your own bed all night.”

And maybe if Hattie stays in her own damn bed, you can
show Deacon just how much you appreciate his effort to make Hattie happy.

Shut up!

Hattie nodded.  “Yep, plus the Hulk will help keep me safe.”

She jumped off the bed and grabbed the plastic figurine from
the bookshelf.  “I’m going to sleep with the Hulk every night, mama!”

“That’s great, honey,” Claire said.  “What do you say to
Deacon?”

Hattie ran to Deacon and held her arms up.  He picked her up
and she hugged him before kissing him on the cheek.  “Thank you, Deacon.  I
love my new room.”

“I’m glad, Hattie.”  He kissed her on the forehead.  “Mrs.
Crane made cookies.  Do you want one?”

“Yes!”  Hattie shouted and Claire, worry gnawing again at
her belly, followed them downstairs.

* * *

Deacon stared at the ceiling.  His bed felt too big, too
lonely, without Claire in it and he cursed to himself before rolling on to his
side and staring at the empty pillow next to his.  Three nights of having
Claire in his bed and he was acting like a lovesick fool.  They hadn’t even had
sex for God’s sake. 

He had spent the entire evening with Claire and Hattie.  He
should have been working but he couldn’t bring himself to go to his office. 
Hattie wanted to show Claire how she could ride her bike and he had been
stupidly excited to see Claire’s reaction.  And then Hattie had begged for him
to watch a movie with them and he couldn’t resist her sweetly pleading face.

He had even helped Claire put Hattie to bed, both of them
kissing her goodnight like they were some type of goddamn perfect family and
the hell of it was – it did feel right.  He sighed and rolled to his other
side. 

Tell the truth, Stone.  You were hoping that after you
and Claire tucked Hattie into bed that Claire would join you in your bed.

Yes, he supposed he was hoping for that.  The way she had
looked at him this morning, the way she had sounded when she said she would
make it up to him for looking after Hattie all weekend, had made his dick jump
to attention.  He had spent most of today trying not to think of her naked and
in his bed where she belonged.

He had plenty of ideas of how she could thank him, most of
them involving that luscious mouth of hers and his cock, and he shifted to his
back as his dick hardened.  Jesus, he needed to get control of himself.  Claire
hadn’t meant anything sexual and he really needed to stop picturing her naked
and under him. 

He had been honest with her about not wanting anything more
than a physical relationship and she had immediately promised to keep away from
him.  Obviously she wasn’t interested in having a sex marathon for the next few
weeks, despite the chemistry between them.

You need to stay away from Claire and Hattie.  The
company is what matters.  You haven’t worked your ass off for the last ten
years to lose it all because of some hot-as-hell single mother. 

No, he hadn’t.  And he would say away from them.  Starting
Wednesday.  His grandmother had invited them for dinner tomorrow night and he
could hardly say no.  Not when it meant he had an excuse to touch Claire, to
kiss her and watch the way her eyes became liquid pools of need at his touch. 

Fuck!

He took a deep breath.  He was taking Claire and Hattie to
his grandmother’s tomorrow night because he needed to keep convincing her that
his marriage was real and that was it.  He loved his grandmother and she loved
him but she wouldn’t hesitate to sign the company over to Brandon if she
discovered that his marriage to Claire was a sham.

“Are you sure you’re feeling better, Claire?  You seem quiet
tonight.”

Claire stared blankly at Rosa.  Although Hattie had stayed
the entire night in her own bed, Claire had slept terribly last night.  She had
dreamed all night of Deacon - of being in his bed and touching him.  She had
woken up multiple times with her body aching for release and her brain
screaming at her to crawl into his bed and find the relief she was craving.

“I’m good, Rosa.  Just a little tired tonight,” Claire said.

It didn’t help that Deacon kept touching her.  She knew they
had to put on a show for his grandmother and his vile cousin and his equally
vile wife.  It was why, after dinner when Hattie had gone outside to play with
Tyson and Brandon, she had plunked herself down next to Deacon on the couch and
rested her hand on his thigh.

That should have been enough, she told herself grumpily, but
Deacon had immediately put his arm around her and began stroking her arm.  Just
lightly, the tips of his fingers barely trailing over her skin, but who the
hell knew her damn arm was so sensitive?  Just the feel of his fingers sliding
against her skin was heating her up, making her wish they were in his bedroom
naked and alone, and she thought she might scream if he didn’t stop soon.  Her
acting skills could only be stretched so far.

Deacon glanced at his watch and she breathed a silent
‘hallelujah’ when he said, “We should probably get going.  Hattie has school in
the morning and Claire should get some rest.”

“Yes, we wouldn’t want her relapsing,” Donna said snidely.

Claire ignored her and climbed to her feet, feeling a
mixture of relief and disappointment at the loss of Deacon’s touch.

“I’ll go get Hattie.”  She shoved her feet into her boots
and hurried outside, not bothering with her jacket. 

“Hattie!  Come on, honey, it’s time to go.”

There was a ladder resting against the garage and she could
see Brandon and Tyson standing in the driveway. 

“Boys, where’s Hattie?”  She called.

“Up there,” Tyson said before pointing upward.  She stared
at the roof of the garage and her heart stopped in her chest as she froze in
terror.

“Hattie,” she tried to keep her voice calm but she could
hear the fear in it.  “Honey, wh-what are you doing?”

The little girl was clinging to the sloped roof of the
garage and she grinned at her mama.  “I’m practicing my rock climbing, mama.”

“Honey, you need to stay right where you are.  Don’t move,
okay?  Just – just stay right there,” Claire said as the door opened behind
her.

“Claire, did you find Hattie?”  Deacon asked.

“Deacon,” she gripped his hand with fingers that had turned
ice cold.  “Deacon, she’s on the roof.”

“What?”  He frowned at her.  “What do you mean she’s on the
roof?”

Claire, her hand trembling violently, pointed toward the
garage.

“Fuck!”  Deacon snarled.

Claire, still frozen to the spot, watched as he started
toward the garage.  “Hattie, don’t move, honey.  Stay right there.  I’m going
to come up and get you.”

“I’m fine,” Hattie said cheerfully.  “I don’t need any
help.  I can get down all by myself.”

“Hattie, no!”  Claire shouted as the little girl began to
slide to her left.  “Don’t – “

She screamed in horror when Hattie lost her tenuous grip on
the frozen shingles and rolled down the roof.  She darted forward, knowing she
was too late, as a vision of Hattie’s body lying on the hard asphalt flooded
through her.

Hattie tumbled from the edge of the roof and Claire’s
terrified scream was cut short when the little girl landed with a hard thud in
Deacon’s arms.  He was knocked off his feet by the momentum and Claire fell to
her knees beside them, tearing Hattie from his arms and running her hands over
the little girl’s head and body.

“Hattie!  Hattie!  Are you hurt?”

Hattie, her eyes wide and her face pale, shook her head. 
“No, mama.  Deacon caught me.”

Deacon sat up and Hattie wiggled from Claire’s grip and put
her arms around his neck.  “Good catch, Deacon.”

She kissed him on his cheek as Deacon, his hands trembling
and his own face pale, stroked her hair.  “Thanks, kid.”

“Hattie, you can never do that again!  Do you hear me?” 
Claire said sharply.  Adrenaline was still coursing through her veins and
everything seemed too bright and too loud.  “If you do that again, I’ll spank
you.”

She had never threatened to spank Hattie before and the
little girl burst into tears before clinging to Deacon.  “I’m sorry, mama.  I’m
sorry!  Please don’t spank me.”

“Oh, Hattie,” Claire started to cry and Deacon put his arm
around her, pulling her into his embrace.  She leaned against his hard warmth
and kissed Hattie’s face.  “You scared me so badly, honey.”

“I’m sorry,” Hattie sobbed.  “Brandon said I couldn’t be a
rock climber because I was a girl and I wanted to show him I could.”

“I did not,” Brandon said immediately.

“Yes, you did,” Tyson said.

“Shut up, Ty!”  Brandon punched his younger brother in the
shoulder and the little boy began to cry.

“I’m telling mom!”  He shouted before running to the house. 
Brandon scurried after him and Deacon kissed Hattie’s forehead before brushing
his lips against Claire’s mouth.

She rested her forehead against his and nodded when he said,
“Let’s go home, sweetheart.”

* * *

Deacon paced back and forth in his office.  He had helped
Claire put Hattie to bed but had left them alone when Claire had curled next to
Hattie in her bed and held her tightly.  After an hour or so he had heard the
water running in the tub but he had stayed in the office, staring blankly at
his laptop while he waited for Claire to finish her bath.

That was almost two hours ago and he shut the light off in
his office and headed to his bedroom.  The door to Claire’s bedroom was shut
and he paused in front of it for a moment before shaking his head.  He wanted
to comfort her but knew without a doubt that his comfort would turn to
something else.  He wanted her desperately but he wouldn’t take advantage of
her fragility tonight.  He opened the door to his bedroom, his pulse beginning
to pound when he saw Claire sitting on the side of the bed in her nightdress.

“Claire?”

He hurried over and sat beside her, wiping away the tears
that were dripping down her face.

“It’s okay, Claire.”

“She could have died,” she whispered.  “If you hadn’t caught
her, she – she could have died, Deacon.”

“She didn’t,” he said.  “She’s fine, Claire, and she won’t
do that again.”

She continued to cry and he pulled her into his lap.  She
buried her face in his neck as he rubbed her back.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart,” he said.  “She’s fine.”

“Thanks to you,” she whispered.

She lifted her head and cupped his face.  “Thank you,
Deacon.  I – I won’t ever be able to tell you how grateful I am that you were
there.  Thank you.”

She kissed him and he returned her kiss, his cock already
beginning to stiffen.  She pressed her body against his and tried to deepen the
kiss and he gently pushed her back.

“Don’t you want me, Deacon?”  She asked softly.

“You know I do,” he said hoarsely.  “But I don’t want to
take advantage of you, and I can’t offer you anything more than – “

“I know,” she interrupted.  He was surprised to hear the
frustration in her voice.  “I know what this is, Deacon, and I’m fine with it.”

“Claire, you’re not the type of woman to – “

“To what?”  She interrupted again.  “To have a relationship
based on just sex?  You can’t possibly know that, Deacon.  You don’t know me,
remember?”

He nodded and she sighed.  “Listen, it’s been six years
since I’ve had sex and I swear I won’t go all – all lovey-dovey on you or ask
you for anything more.  I promise.”

“Six years?”  His look of horror made her grin.

“Yes.  I like you, Deacon.  You’re a nice guy and we have
amazing chemistry but that doesn’t mean I think this marriage is going to
become real if we have sex.  I just really, really want to get laid.  Can you
help me out or not?”

He nodded solemnly.  “Yes, sweetheart, I can definitely help
you out.”

“Good,” she dipped her head and kissed his neck, liking the
way he moaned lightly at her touch.

She tugged his shirt over his head and he threw it on the
floor as she licked his collarbone with her wet tongue.

“Jesus, Claire,” he muttered before reaching for the edge of
her nightdress.  She was naked underneath it and he cupped her breast, teasing
her nipple with soft tweaks and pinches, as she unbuttoned his jeans.

“Naked, Deacon.  I want you naked,” she demanded.

He tossed her lightly on to the bed, making her giggle,
before standing and quickly shedding his clothes.

He stretched out beside her and cupped her breast again as
she smiled at him.  “God, you have an amazing body.”

“So do you,” he murmured.

He sucked on her nipple, laving it with his tongue until it
was a hard bud as she arched her back and moaned encouragingly.  She reached
between them and stroked his hard cock and pouted when he pushed her hand away.

“I want to touch you.”

“I want to fuck you,” he sucked on her earlobe before
shoving his thigh between hers and pressing it against her warm core, “and if
you keep touching me that might not happen.”

She grinned at him.  “I really thought you would have more
self-control, Mr. Stone.”

“I have excellent control, Mrs. Stone,” he liked the way her
eyes softened when he called her that, “but knowing I’m about to be balls-deep
in your hot little pussy is testing even my control.”

Warm liquid drenched his thigh and he rubbed his leg roughly
against her.  “Why, Mrs. Stone, who would have guessed a sweet little thing
like you likes the dirty talk.”

“I do like the dirty talk,” she acknowledged as she slid her
hands to his naked ass and squeezed tightly.  “Unless you’re all dirty talk and
no action, Mr. Stone?”

He rolled on top of her, pinning her to the mattress and
forcing her thighs wide as he squeezed her breasts.  He took his time teasing
and sucking and nipping at each breast until she was moaning loudly and nearly
yanking on his hair.

“Deacon!”

“Yes, Claire?”

“Please!”

“Not yet, sweetheart.  I can’t have you thinking I’m all
talk, can I?”

“I don’t think that,” she panted as he kissed his way down
her stomach.  “I really, really don’t.”

“I’m not sure I’ve entirely convinced you.”  He nuzzled her
hipbone and stretched out on his stomach between her thighs.  He slid his hands
under her ass and lifted her slightly before placing a warm kiss on her inner
thigh.

“Oh God,” she whispered. 

He used the tip of his tongue to trace the crease between
her thigh and her pussy, and she moaned loudly before tangling her fingers in
his hair and trying to guide his face to her wet core.

He took her hands and held her wrists against her thighs in
a tight grip.  He licked the lips of her pussy and she arched off the bed, her
toes digging into the sheets as her legs fell open.  Her swollen clit was
practically begging for his mouth and he licked it repeatedly as she moaned
again and her hips rose and fell against his mouth. 

Claire stared at the ceiling, gasping with pleasure when
Deacon reached up and squeezed both breasts.  His mouth was buried in her pussy
and she rubbed herself shamelessly against him as he tugged on her nipples. 

She was already embarrassingly close to coming and when he sucked
hungrily on her clit, she was lost.  She clapped her hand over her mouth,
muffling her sharp cry of pleasure, as her orgasm washed over her.  He squeezed
her hard nipples and placed a light kiss on the top of her core before he
straightened and grinned at her.

She stared mutely at him, her legs shaking from the force of
her orgasm, as he leaned over and pulled a condom from the drawer of the
bedside table. 

“Holy shit, Deacon,” she muttered weakly.  “That was so
good.”

He rolled the condom on to his cock, tossing the foil
wrapper carelessly on the floor, and positioned his cock at her entrance. 
“It’s only going to get better, sweetheart.”

“Someone’s being awfully arrogant, isn’t – “

Her voice cut out as he slid his cock into her warmth.  He
leaned over her, propping himself up on his hands and grinned at her.  “You
were saying?”

She bit her lip and moaned when he started a slow and deep rhythm. 
She braced her feet on the bed and met him thrust for thrust, wrapping her
hands around his arms and clinging tightly to him.

“Wrap your legs around my waist, sweetheart,” he muttered.

She did what he asked as he pressed his hard chest against
her breasts and kissed her deeply on the mouth.  She clung tightly to his broad
back and bit him lightly on the shoulder when he thrust roughly in and out. 
His rhythm was quickening, his breathing becoming more laboured and she licked
his neck as he groaned loudly.

“Harder, Deacon,” she murmured into his ear.  He moaned in
reply and buried himself deep within her in a rough, hard rhythm that made her
toes curl.  A second orgasm hit her like a freight train and she bucked against
his heavy weight as pleasure soared through her entire body.

“Claire, oh god, Claire…” he moaned loudly before thrusting
a final time.  His entire body shuddered and she traced her tongue along the
cords in his neck as he came with a harsh gasp.  She hugged him tightly,
rubbing her hands across his damp back as he kissed her throat before rolling
off of her.

He disposed of the condom and lay on his back, staring
blankly at the ceiling as she leaned over him.