The Christmas Wife (15 page)

“Hattie, why don’t you – “

“Yes, Hattie.  I love you too,” Deacon interrupted.

Hattie grinned and kissed his cheek again.  “Alicia at
school has a step-daddy too but she calls him daddy.  I’m going to call you
daddy, okay?”

Claire’s heart dropped into her stomach.  She groaned inwardly
at the look of complete shock on Deacon’s face.

“Honey, you’ve only known Deacon for a little while.  I
think you should keep calling him Deacon for now, okay?”

Hattie scowled at her.  “I want to call him daddy.”

“I said no,” Claire replied firmly.

Hattie’s mouth drew down into a pout and Deacon patted her
thigh.  “C’mon, Hattie, it’s time to eat.”

He carried Hattie out of the room as Claire buried her face
in her hands.  What had she done?  Hattie loved Deacon and in just over a week
she was going to take her away from him forever.  Deacon was being kind and
telling the little girl what she wanted to hear, but there was a big difference
between saying he loved her and being okay with her calling him daddy.  God, the
look on Deacon’s face – she had really fucked this up.

She needed to start distancing herself and Hattie from
Deacon.  It would only make things harder, especially on Hattie, if she let
things continue the way they were.  She stared at the softly-glowing Christmas
tree and sighed to herself.  She would wait until after Christmas.  Hattie
deserved to have a good Christmas and being with Deacon made her happy.  She
wouldn’t take that away from her.

* * *

“What the hell is your problem today, Deacon?”  Jude sat
down in the chair across from Deacon’s desk.

“Nothing.”  Deacon continued to stare out his office window
as Jude snorted loudly.

“Bullshit.  You’ve been in a bad mood all day.  It’s
Christmas Eve for God’s sake.  Show a little Christmas cheer.”

“There’s nothing wrong, Jude,” Deacon said.

“Really?  Because all this week you’ve had a giant grin on
your face and today you’re back to your normal asshole self.”

“Thanks,” Deacon snapped.

“You know I say it with love, buddy.  Seriously though, what
the hell is going on?  I know we don’t have the final numbers yet but all signs
indicate that this season has been our best one yet in terms of sales.  And in
just over a week your crazy-ass grandmother will sign her shares of the company
over to you.  You should be happy.”

“I am happy.”

“No, you were happy yesterday.  Today you look like your
damn dog died.”

“Hattie said she loved me last night and asked if she could
call me daddy,” Deacon said abruptly.

“What?”  Jude leaned forward.  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Deacon sat down in his seat with a heavy thud.  “No, I’m
not.”

“What did you say?”

“Claire said no before I could say anything.”

“Well, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

Deacon didn’t reply and Jude stared uncertainly at him. 
“Deacon, what is going on with you?  You’re acting like this marriage, this
whole family thing, is real.  It isn’t.”

“I know that, Jude.”

“Do you?  Because I’ve seen the way you are with Claire. 
You practically start drooling whenever she’s in the room.  She’s playing a
part, Deacon, nothing more.”

“It’s nice to come home to her and Hattie, okay?  It’s nice
having someone there who asks me about my day and really listens.  It’s not
just the sex – we talk, Jude.  I’ve told her more personal stuff than I’ve ever
told a woman before.  We have more in common than I would ever have thought,
and I want to know everything about her.  I really do.”

Jude rubbed a hand over the stubble on his jaw.  “You’re
paying her to pretend to be your wife.  Have you forgotten that?”

“No,” he muttered.

Jude shrugged.  “Hell, maybe Claire is falling for you just
as hard as you’re falling for her.  You need to talk to her, buddy.”

“She isn’t,” Deacon said.  “She couldn’t say no fast enough
when Hattie asked to call me daddy, and she’s looking for an apartment.  She
won’t be able to move in to an apartment at the beginning of the month, and
when I offered to let her stay with me until she’s ready to move she said it
wasn’t a good idea.  She doesn’t want anything more than what I promised her in
our original agreement.  A place to live for a month, a hundred grand, and
casual sex.”

He stared morosely at Jude.  “And for the first time in my
life, I want more.”

“Karma’s a fucking bitch, buddy,” Jude said sympathetically.

“I think I’m in love with her,” Deacon said hoarsely. 
“How’s that for fucked up?”

“You need to tell her,” Jude said.  “The worse that happens
is she really is just playing a part and rejects you.”

“I don’t need to tell her,” Deacon said.  “I know she isn’t
in love with me.  I’m a workaholic who made it perfectly clear that I didn’t
want a relationship of any kind.  I told her early on that I liked my life
exactly the way it was, and I wanted nothing more than sex from her.”

“People change, Deacon,” Jude said.  “It happens all the
time and – “

“No,” Deacon said.  “She’s not going to believe that I’ve
changed completely in less than a month.  She doesn’t want me as a husband or
as a father for Hattie and I don’t blame her.  She and Hattie will be gone next
week and I need to accept that.”

He glanced at his watch.  “They’re going to be here in less
than twenty minutes.  You should change.”

“You owe me big time for this, Deacon,” Jude said.

“Yeah, I know.”

* * *

“Hi, Deacon!”  Hattie skipped into his office and climbed
into his lap.  “Are you happy to see me?”

“I am,” Deacon said.  He hugged her tightly before giving
Claire a nervous smile.  “Hi, Claire.

“Hi, Deacon.”  She looked nervous and uncomfortable herself
and he sighed inwardly.  He’d meant to give her some space last night when they
went to bed but he had barely shut off the lights before Claire was sliding
over to his side and pressing her soft warmth against him.  Powerless to resist
her, he had taken her slowly, teasing and caressing her until she was
shuddering against him and crying his name in a low voice. 

“Where are all the toys?”

He shut out the memory of Claire’s sweet warmth and concentrated
on Hattie.

“What do you mean, honey?”

“You’re the toymaker,” Hattie said before looking around his
office.  “I thought you would have toys in your office.”

“Hattie, remember that Deacon doesn’t make the actual toys,”
Claire said.  “He’s in charge of – “

“Mr. Stone?”  Tabitha’s voice came over the phone intercom.

“Yes, Tabitha?”

“There’s a Mr. Claus here to see you,” Tabitha said
briskly.  “Shall I send him in?”

“Yes, please.”

Claire gave him a curious look and Deacon winked at her as
the door opened.  Santa Claus walked into his office and Hattie’s mouth dropped
open.

“Mr. Stone, it’s good to see you again,” Santa said.  “I
wanted to personally thank you for helping me with all the toys this year and –
“

Santa stopped and peered over his wire-rimmed glasses at
Hattie.  “Why, hello, Hattie Brooks.  What are you doing here?”

Claire blinked back the tears as Hattie whispered, “Santa
knows my name.”

“Of course I do,” Santa said cheerfully.  “You’re on my nice
list this year.”

“I am?”  Hattie whispered again.  She was clutching Deacon’s
neck in a death grip and she watched wide-eyed as Santa sat down in the chair
across from the desk.

“Of course you are.”  Santa let out a loud ‘ho, ho, ho’ and
a wide grin crossed Hattie’s face.

He patted his knee.  “Why don’t you come sit on my lap,
Hattie?”

Hattie stared at Deacon and he nodded.  “Go on, Hattie.”

She slid off his lap and stumbled her way to Santa.  He
lifted her gently and set her on her knee.

“Did you get my letter, Santa?”  Hattie couldn’t seem to
speak above a whisper.

“I did,” Santa replied.  “Let’s see if I remember what it
was you wanted most.” 

He placed his finger on his nose and stared thoughtfully at
the ceiling as Claire joined Deacon.  He pulled her into his lap and kissed her
neck as she put her mouth to his ear.

“Is that Jude?” She breathed.

He nodded and she snorted lightly into his ear before
whispering, “How on earth did you get him to do this?”

“It wasn’t easy,” Deacon whispered back. “I had to promise
him a bottle of my best whiskey and an extra week of vacation.”

“Thank you,” Claire whispered before hugging him tightly. 
“Hattie will never forget this moment.”

She was crying freely now and she buried her face in
Deacon’s neck and discreetly wiped away the tears as Jude grinned at Hattie.

“I remember now, Miss Hattie.  You want a truck but not just
any truck.  You want the remote control one with the blue racing stripes.”

“I do,” Hattie whispered again.  “I do want that truck.  But
mama said you probably couldn’t make enough of them this year.”

“You’ve been such a good girl that I think I can find one
more truck in my sack of toys for you, Hattie,” Jude said cheerfully.  “But you
have to promise to leave cookies and milk out for me tonight.  By the time I
get to your house, I’m going to need a snack.”

“I will,” Hattie said eagerly.  “Mama and I made you cookies
this morning.”

“And don’t forget to leave carrots for my reindeer.  All
that flying makes them very hungry.”

Hattie gave Claire a wide-eyed look of panic.  “We don’t
have any carrots, mama!”

“We’ll pick some up on the way home, honey.  Don’t worry,”
Claire said.

As Hattie turned back to Jude, Claire whispered, “Deacon, I
didn’t get her the truck.  I couldn’t afford it.”

“I bought it for her,” he murmured into her ear.

“Thank you.”  She kissed him again and he squeezed her
tightly before she stood and pulled her cell phone out of her pocket.

Hattie smiled up at Jude.  “I love you, Santa.”

“I love you too, Miss Hattie,” Jude replied.  “Now, why
don’t we let your mama take some pictures of us and then we can talk about what
else you want for Christmas this year.”

“Is she asleep?”

“Finally.”  Claire collapsed on the couch with a soft sigh
and placed the plastic bag she was carrying on the floor at her feet.  “I
didn’t think she was ever going to settle down.  That visit with Santa really
amped up the excitement level.”

“Sorry,” Deacon said.

“No!  It was wonderful, Deacon.  It’s the nicest thing
anyone’s ever done for Hattie and I am beyond grateful to you.  She loved every
minute of it.”

He smiled faintly at her before his gaze dropped to her
chest.  She had taken off her bra upstairs, telling herself it was because it
was more comfortable and refusing to acknowledge that she was trying to tempt
Deacon.

Her nipples hardened almost immediately under his hot gaze
and she nearly moaned out loud when he finally returned his eyes to her face. 
He had that predatory look of need on his face, the one that nearly made her
come in her own damn pants, and she had to stop herself from simply stripping
off her shirt and giving him a real show.

She smiled at him before standing and rummaging through the
bag.  “I need to wrap my presents for her.”

“I’ll be right back.”  Deacon left the room and returned a
few minutes later.

“Deacon!”  Claire’s mouth dropped open.  He was carrying
five large bags and they were filled with wrapped gifts.

“What – what is that?”

“It’s Hattie’s Christmas presents.”  He stacked them neatly
under the tree.

“How many gifts did you get her?”  Claire asked.

“I’m not sure.  Twenty-five, thirty, maybe?”

“Oh my God.  Deacon, that’s way too many,” Claire said
weakly.

“It isn’t.  I want her to have a good Christmas.”

“Deacon…”

“She deserves it, Claire,” Deacon said firmly.  “Besides,
I’m the toymaker, I have to spoil her with toys, remember?”

He finished piling the presents under the tree as Claire
quickly wrapped the few toys she had bought Hattie.  She placed them under the
tree and Deacon handed her a glass of wine.  She sat on the large plush rug in
front of the fireplace and peeked nervously at Deacon when he sat beside her. 
He sipped at his wine and stared silently at the fire, and Claire studied the
ring on her finger.  In a week she would give it back to him and one day he
would give it to another woman.  A woman he truly loved.  The thought brought on
a combination of jealousy and despair and she berated herself inwardly.

Stop it, Claire.  You knew what this was.

“You’re quiet,” Deacon said gruffly.

“Just thinking about how excited Hattie will be in the
morning,” she replied.  “I wanted to say thank you, Deacon, for everything. 
You’ve been really…great.”

Lame!

He didn’t reply and she smiled nervously at him.  She wanted
to kiss him, to lose herself in his warm touch, but things suddenly felt
awkward between them and she couldn’t work up the nerve.

She drained the rest of her wine and cleared her throat.  “I
guess I should head to bed.  Hattie will probably be up early tomorrow and – “

He leaned forward and captured her mouth with his, sliding
his tongue persuasively across her lips.  She moaned and cupped his face,
kissing him back eagerly as he took her empty wine glass and set it on the
floor.  He pressed her on to her back in the soft rug and cupped her breast
through her shirt.  She arched against him, gasping loudly when he pinched her
nipple through the fabric.

She pushed on his chest and he leaned back, frowning at
her.  “What’s wrong?”

“Lie on your back,” she whispered.

He sat up and she tugged on his shirt.  “Take off your
shirt.”

“Ladies, first,” he said with a wicked grin.

She tugged her shirt over her head.  He studied her naked
breasts in the glow of the fire and she poked him playfully in the ribs.

“Shirt off, Mr. Stone.”

He pulled off his t-shirt and tossed it to the side.  He was
beautiful in the glow of the fire and the Christmas lights, and she leaned
forward and kissed his broad chest.

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered before urging him on to
his back.  She straddled his hips and moaned when he cupped her breasts,
kneading and rubbing them firmly, as she pressed herself against his erection. 
She leaned over him and kissed him slowly while he traced tiny circles around
her aching nipples.

“Claire,” he muttered as she sucked gently on his thick
neck, “we should go upstairs.  Hattie might wake up and we need a condom.”

She nipped at his collarbone.  “Hattie won’t wake up and,”
she shoved her hand into her jean pocket and pulled out the condom, “I brought
one downstairs.”

He grinned at her, “You might just be the perfect woman,
Mrs. Stone.”

Her panties dampened like they always did when he called her
Mrs. Stone, and she rubbed herself against his hard cock as he slipped his
hands under her jeans and panties and cupped her bare ass.  He slid one hand
between her legs and rubbed at her wet pussy.  Her fingers dug into his
shoulders when he dipped his index finger into her tight warmth and she rode
his hand shamelessly, her breath coming in harsh pants.  When he pulled his
hand free she made a sharp cry of frustration and bit him hard on the shoulder.

“Minx,” he growled before reaching for the button on her
jeans.  She stood and quickly shed her clothes as he yanked off his own
clothes.

She dropped on to him again, rubbing her wet pussy against
his erection as he clamped his hands around her hips.  He started to flip her
onto her back and she shook her head.

“I want to ride you,” she whispered.

Desire flared in his eyes and she quickly unwrapped the
condom before sliding it over his cock.  He watched as she held his cock at the
base and slowly impaled herself on it.

“Fuck, Claire,” he muttered when she leaned over him and
rocked back and forth.  He studied the light dancing across her pale skin as
she rocked faster, taking what she wanted from him.  He sucked on her nipples,
pulling lightly on them with his lips and his teeth until they were red and
swollen.  After only a few minutes, she was panting and moaning under her
breath and he gritted his teeth and willed himself not to come when her inner
muscles tightened around him and she came all over his cock.  He stroked her
back as she shuddered and moaned before pushing her upward.  She smiled down at
him and cupped her breasts, stroking her nipples lightly. 

“Your turn,” she whispered.

He moved in and out of her in slow, smooth strokes, the feel
of her wet warmth driving him insane.  She rose up and down in a fluid motion
and he cried out hoarsely when she rotated her hips in a slow circle as she
sank down over his cock.

“Faster, sweetheart,” he groaned.

She shook her head, “No, honey, not yet.”

“Yes.”  He thrust against her and she slapped him lightly on
the chest.

“Nice and slow, honey,” she whispered as he squeezed her
breasts firmly.

She was determined to tease him, to make him beg and plead,
and she kept the same slow rhythm despite his look of harsh need.  He arched
his hips, burying himself deep within her and she tightened her muscles around
his hard length as he groaned loudly.

“Please, Claire,” he suddenly whispered.  “Please.”

A soft smile crossed her face and she braced her hands on
his chest and thrust quickly.  He cried out, the sound sending a wave of fresh
lust through her body, and met each of her strokes with hard jabs of his hips.

She moved his hand to her pussy and he thumbed her clit
eagerly as she rode him hard and fast.  He moaned her name repeatedly and she
watched in fascination as every muscle in his body strained and her name became
a hoarse howl of pleasure.  His release brought on her own and she ground
herself against his thumb, her nails scratching across his chest, as the waves
of pleasure crashed through her.

Weak as a kitten, she collapsed against him and he hugged
her tightly.  His breath stirred her hair and she stayed exactly where she was,
listening as the rapid beat of his heart began to slow.  She wanted to stay
where she was forever, to pretend that what was happening between them was
real, and she stared again at the ring on her left hand as Deacon rubbed her
back.

Despite the heat of the fire, she was beginning to shiver
and Deacon kissed her shoulder.  “We should go to bed.”

She sat up, her smile fading to a look of distress as she
stared at his chest.  It was covered in bright red marks from her nails and she
winced at the bite mark on his shoulder.  “Oh my God, Deacon.  I’m so sorry.”

He grinned cockily at her.  “Trust me, sweetheart, you never
need to apologize for biting and scratching.  Besides, I expect a few bumps and
bruises.  It’s the price I have to pay for being so fucking good in bed.”

She laughed and leaned down to kiss the marks.  “Your
arrogance is only one of the many charming sides of your personality.”

He cupped her face and kissed her firmly before she slid
from his body.  He helped her to her feet before cupping her naked ass.  “Time
for bed, sweetheart.”

“I am pretty tired,” she said before yawning.

He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her up against
his firm body.  “Tired?  Sorry, sweetheart, you’re not going to sleep just
yet.  I have other plans.”

“Like what?”  She said breathlessly as he bent and licked a
searing path up her neck.

“You’ll see,” he said.  “Should we bet on how long it takes
for you to put matching claw marks on my back?”

She blushed furiously and his grin widened before he scooped
her up and carried her out of the living room.

* * *

“It’s Christmas!”  Hattie’s excited squealing woke Claire
and she sat up in a daze as Hattie jumped on to the bed.

“It’s Christmas, mama!  Wake up!”

Claire pushed her hair out of her eyes as Hattie bounced up
and down.  “Wake up, mama!  Let’s go see what Santa brought me!”

Deacon’s side of the bed was empty and Claire slid out of
the bed and stumbled after Hattie as the little girl skipped out of the room. 
She was tired and her pelvis and legs ached with a dull throb.  Deacon had kept
her up most of the night and she’d lost count of the orgasms he had coaxed from
her body.  She rubbed at her thighs before following Hattie down the stairs. 

Deacon was standing in the doorway of the kitchen and Hattie
threw herself at him.

“Deacon!  It’s Christmas!”  She shouted and shrieked with
delight when he picked her up and threw her into the air before settling her in
the crook of the arm.

“Merry Christmas, Hattie.”  He kissed her cheek and she
rubbed her nose against his affectionately. 

“Did Santa come?”

Claire, yawning hugely, joined them.  He handed her a cup of
coffee and brushed his mouth across hers.

“Merry Christmas, Claire.”

“Merry Christmas, Deacon.”  She sipped gratefully at the
coffee as Hattie gave Deacon an impatient look.

“Deacon, did Santa come last night?”

He set her down and patted her gently on the butt.  “Why
don’t we go look?”

Hattie, holding their hands, pulled them eagerly down the
hall and into the living room.  She stopped abruptly, her hand squeezing
Claire’s in a tight grip, as she studied the room.

“Mama,” she whispered, “Santa was here.”

Claire stared at the dark boot marks that led from the
fireplace to the tree.  The cookies that Hattie had placed carefully on a small
table next to the tree had been eaten with nothing left but a few crumbs and
the glass of milk was half empty.  The carrots were gone as well and she stared
at Deacon over Hattie’s head.  He winked at her and she stood on her tiptoes
and kissed him.

“Thank you,” she whispered as Hattie dropped her hand and
took a few hesitant steps toward the tree.

Deacon pulled Claire into his embrace as Hattie turned to
look at them.

“There’s so many presents,” she whispered again.

“Well, you were a very good girl this year,” Deacon said. 
“I’m not surprised that Santa brought so many presents.”

The look of shock on Hattie’s face was slowly replaced with
a large grin.  “I was a very good girl, wasn’t I?”

Deacon laughed and Hattie clapped her hands before spinning
around to stare at the tree again.  “Which one do I open first?”

“How about this one,” Deacon suggested.  He and Claire
joined Hattie and the three of them sat in front of the tree as Deacon pulled
the largest gift out from under the tree.

Hattie tore into the paper, tearing it off in long strips
before shrieking again.  “It’s the truck!  It’s the truck, mama!  Santa brought
me the truck like he said he would!”

She stared at the box before giving Claire a grin of pure
delight.  “It has the blue racing stripes!  I want to play with it right now!”

Claire laughed.  “Honey, why don’t you open your other gifts
first, okay?”

“Okay!”  Hattie was nearly vibrating with excitement and she
reached eagerly for the next present. 

* * *

“Do you like them, Deacon?”  Hattie asked anxiously.  “I
helped mama pick them out.”

Deacon pulled off the leather gloves and tucked them neatly
back into the box.  “I love them, Hattie, and they fit perfectly.  Thank you.”

The living room was a mess of Christmas paper and boxes. 
Hattie had been overjoyed with each present she had opened and Claire couldn’t
stop smiling.  She had always tried to teach Hattie that Christmas wasn’t about
how many presents were under the tree but she had to admit that it had felt
good to watch Hattie opening each present. 

Hattie climbed into Deacon’s lap and nodded when he
whispered into her ear.  She crawled under the tree and returned with Claire’s
gift, placing it gently in Claire’s lap before sitting in Deacon’s lap again. 
“Open your present, mama.  It’s from me and Deacon.”