Winter Kisses (5 page)

“You know my name and where I work. If you'd like to know more all you have to do is say the word,” he said as he came to stand in front of her. Then, cupping her chin and tilting her head upward so she was looking right into his eyes, he continued, “But don't mistake me for someone you once knew or someone you believe me to be. I wasn't offering to have sex with you. I was offering companionship to ease the jitters of being in a strange place. Yes or no is all you have to say.”

And if she said no he would walk away. He'd go back into that living room and continue to listen to her tossing and turning in that bed just as he'd been doing for the past hour. And each time he'd heard her he'd stood, about to walk into the room to do what, he didn't know exactly. But the urge to do something was stronger than anything he'd ever felt before.

When he'd heard the bedroom door open he'd hoped she was coming back into the living room with him. But then he'd thought about the woman he was dealing with so he'd headed her off at the kitchen. She didn't want anything to eat or drink, Alex was sure of that. She wanted a distraction, something to get her mind off whatever was keeping her from sleeping. He'd offered her that.

She folded her arms over her chest, as smooth a protective measure as she could handle. She looked fierce
and extremely sexy in the satiny robe that skimmed her knees and fuzzy socks he'd seen her in earlier. Her hair was loose, hanging down her back in a barely mustered state. Her cheeks were a little flushed, probably from her embarrassment about being unable to sleep. Why that would embarrass her, he didn't know. It seemed that any imperfection in her eyes was an embarrassment.

“I'll be fine,” she said in a barely there voice.

“You'll be better with company. I'll just sit with you and talk until you fall asleep,” he offered.

“Really? Will you read me a bedtime story and tuck me in?”

The sarcastic tone didn't escape him, but he took it as a defense mechanism and not a slap against him personally. “If that's what it takes.”

She closed her eyes and lifted a hand to rub at her temples. “I guess we could talk for a little while.”

Baby steps,
he thought and resisted the smile that tugged at his lips. “Do you want something to drink before we head back?”

She shook her head. “No. I'm fine.”

“Then I'll just turn out the lights and douse the fire, then I'll be back.”

She nodded, turned and walked away.

Alex sighed and moved toward the living room. This getaway was turning out to be more work than if he'd stayed at the office. He would have to get Renny and the guys a special thank-you gift for setting this up.

M
onica sat up with pillows propped behind her on the bed and her hands folded in her lap. Her heart thumped in her chest as if she was waiting for someone to bring her bad news. He was coming into this room, with her, to keep her company.

It wasn't fear she felt, because just as she'd told him before, she wasn't afraid of him. Was she afraid of what could happen between them in this bedroom? No, she wasn't afraid of sex. So why was her heart pounding?

He entered the room, closing the door behind him, then silently walking around the bed to sit right next to her on the other side.

“You want to tell me what happened to make you not like falling asleep?”

At the sound of his question Monica knew exactly why her heart was pounding. He knew too much, things
he shouldn't know. He saw too much, things she definitely did not want him to see. And he was usually right.

In an effort to not appear as neurotic as she felt, Monica released the breath she'd been holding in a slow, steady sigh. She could do this, she could sit on this bed and talk to this man without thinking another mistake was inevitable. Paranoia about men and their actions did not have to be a daily part of her life. If she told herself this over and over again maybe she'd believe it. Considering she'd been trying this for the past seven years and it had yet to work, she was loath to believe it now. And yet…

“It's not that I don't like falling asleep.”

“Okay, then, what is it?”

“This isn't my bed, for one. It's not my home and you're here,” she said and thought immediately that it sounded too harsh. “I mean, I'm used to being alone. And I know that I'm not now. I know you're just down the hall. It makes me a little uncomfortable.”

“And now I'm right here in the bed next to you. Are you even more uncomfortable now?”

She thought about that for a minute and realized she really wasn't. “No. Not really. Don't ask me why because I can't explain it.”

“That's fine. Everything doesn't always need to be explained.” He crossed his legs at the ankles and turned his head to stare at her. “Why don't you tell me about yourself. Where did you go to college?”

Changing the subject was good, even though she would have still preferred the subject not be her. But at least he wasn't trying to figure out why she couldn't sleep anymore.

“I went to the University of South Carolina,” she said simply.

“Really? I would have figured you for a Harvard or Yale type.”

“I applied to all those schools and was accepted, but my mother is from South Carolina. She still has lots of family there, including a couple of professors at USC. I thought if I went I'd get a sense of some family history.”

“And your parents agreed?”

“My mother was ecstatic. My father, well, he didn't really have much to say. I was getting out of the house and that was all that mattered to him.”

“You make it sound like he didn't want you around.”

She shrugged. “I don't think I knew what he wanted back then. Or now, for that matter.”

“Not close to your dad?”

“Nobody's close to my father, except my mother. It's not that I don't see him, because he's at the gallery almost every day. But it's more like he's there to check and make sure I'm doing everything right instead of being there to see me.”

“He doesn't trust you with the gallery? My brother Rico used to feel like my dad did that with him at our company.”

“Really? So you're saying it's normal for a father to check up on their child constantly?”

“I don't know that it's normal. But I think it has more to do with their insecurities than the child's. Children naturally want to impress their parents, so they're going to go out of their way to do the job right. It's the parent who doesn't feel like they were doing a good enough
job or that anyone else can do it as good as they can. That's usually the problem.”

“Does your father go through this, too?”

“I don't think so, but then I'm not Rico. I don't work in the department where all the company's money is managed. My bottom line is to figure out how we can make more money. So I think I get a different measure of attention from my father.”

“And you can handle that?”

“Sure. I'd be protective of my company, as well, if two hotshot young guys came sniffing around wanting to take over. But with your kids I think it should be different. There should be a level of trust there that doesn't exist with anyone else.”

As she let her head fall back against the pillows, Monica could only hope. “I believe the same thing. Maybe you should try talking to Paul Lakefield.”

“He's probably not that bad.”

“You know what? I really wouldn't know how bad he is. I feel like I know so little about him. But what I do know is that the bar was automatically higher for me because I was the firstborn and the first girl.”

“I'm the oldest, too. We do get a little more pressure than the others.”

“At least you were a boy. My father struck out three times with all girls. I don't think he's ever gotten over that disappointment. So that made it even more difficult for me growing up. I always had to be the best, to perform the best. No slackers for Paul Lakefield even if you were a girl.”

“Wow. Sounds tough.”

“It was. That's why I couldn't wait to get out.”

“And you did when you went to college.”

“I did.”

“And then what?”

She was quiet. He wanted her to continue, but she couldn't. They could talk about her father or her family or the gallery until the sun came up. But when it came to her college years, she'd rather keep that under lock and key.

“I think I'm sleepy now.”

Very subtle,
Alex thought. “Really?” There was a clock on the nightstand and he glanced at the time. “We've been talking for about forty minutes. I guess you could be tired now. Go ahead and get under the covers. I'll sit here until I'm sure you're asleep.”

“You don't have to do that.”

“I know I don't have to. I want to.” And after saying the words Alex realized he really did want to sit right there and watch her sleep. He wanted to make sure she was all right and that nothing bothered her while she rested. So when she didn't hurry to move he started to pull on the comforter beneath her.

Reluctantly she lifted up so he could pull the comforter and sheets down, then she slipped between them. As he pulled them up to her chin, Alex couldn't resist the urge—he leaned forward, dropping a slow, soft kiss on her forehead. She was still staring up at him as he pulled back.

“Do you tuck all the women you know into bed with a forehead kiss at night?”

He smiled. “I'm not Santa Claus—I'd never be able to get to every one of them in one night.”

She laughed at that. Really, her lips spread into a grin and laughter burst from her as if it surprised even her.

“Go to sleep,” he said, warmed by the sound.

They lay in silence, Monica turned onto her side, back facing him and him just watching her. Her hair fanned behind her like a sheet of black silk. Carefully he lifted a few strands, let the soft tendrils run through his fingers. When her breathing steadied Alex relaxed against the pillows, turning so that he lay on his side, as well. They could have been mistaken for spooning, but his body wasn't touching hers. Still, he was close enough to feel her body heat. Close enough to inhale her scent. He wanted to pull her closer, to hold her in his arms and comfort her the way she really needed to be comforted, but he refrained. He knew better. She would come up swinging if he pushed her too fast. No, with Monica he definitely had to go slow. She'd given him a little bit by talking about her father, letting him see how she always felt inferior in the old man's eyes. That could be the reason she was so tenacious, so intense in her business endeavors.

But there was something else, something she wasn't telling him. Whatever it was, Alex knew it had to be the key to her fears, her reluctance to let herself go completely. He wanted to know, almost as much as he wanted to touch her right now. However, he would be patient. Patience, he knew, in the end would pay out.

 

In the dark of the night Monica shivered; it was so cold. Her nose felt frozen as she pulled the covers up closer, trying to create more heat beneath them. Her nipples tingled and hardened and her teeth chattered. But her backside was warm. For whatever reason there was some warmth back there. So she turned, settled onto her other side and felt the source of heat. Yearn
ing for more, she moved closer and closer until she was enfolded in warmth. A sigh of contentment escaped her and she nuzzled even closer, loving the feeling of heat moving throughout her body.

 

She was in his arms, all soft and cuddly, her curves moving against his contours. And his hands explored.

They touched her shoulders, held her along her back, moved down to the succulent curve of her bottom, the line of her thigh. She sighed and he hardened. When his fingers gave up touching the silkiness of her nightgown and felt warm flesh, Alex almost growled. Lust tore through him in a primal rush and he lifted her thigh higher until her leg was wrapped securely around his waist.

She murmured something, her warm breath fanning over his neck, and he gritted his teeth. One hand slipped between her legs, sliding along the silken material of her panties to find the moist heat of her center. This is what was calling to him, beckoning him to come closer, press farther to find the hidden pleasure. He obeyed, pressing his fingers through the slickened folds of her center, feeling the warm wetness of her building desire, then finally, sliding sinuously into her honeyed cavern.

Her fingers clenched against his shoulders; her head fell back. His lips yearned for hers and he found them, thrusting his tongue quickly, deeply inside her mouth. Simultaneously his finger plunged deeper into her core until her coated walls clenched, locking him in place. The kiss was fevered, lips, tongue, teeth and moans. His finger inside her was dominant, wet, slick, deep, drowning. Her leg flexed around him as she kissed him with an unleashed hunger.

“Now,” she whispered against his lips. “Take me now.”

He heard her and then he didn't think he really had. He wanted her and she definitely wanted him. Take her, she'd said, practically begged. His body was doing some begging of its own as his own arousal poked persistently through the opening of his boxers. It took a moment's shifting.

“Please.”

“One second, baby. One…sec—” The words were strained as he tried to move, to get them into the position he needed. Then he cursed, pulled his finger from the moistened pleasure to guide his own length to that same sweet spot.

The moment his tip touched there Alex cursed again. She sighed, thrusting her hips forward. “Yes. Yes!”

Her arms had slipped from his shoulders and wrapped awkwardly around his body until her palms were cupping the cheeks of his bottom. She pushed and thrust and through the slickness his erection slid into what felt as if it's one true home.