Читать книгу Christmas in His Bed: Talking in Your Sleep... / Unwrapped / Kiss & Tell - Carrie Alexander - Страница 14

RAFE HADN’T SLEPT AT ALL, his body and mind wired from the interaction with Joy. He’d meant what he’d said. He wanted to get to know her, to have some fun, to help her loosen up. No pressure. He’d have someone to share the holidays with, and maybe they could exert a little physical energy together. All good things.

Glancing down at the insistent morning stiffy he had thinking about it, he hoped they might be able to do that sooner rather than later. She was as wound up as he was, and ready to explode. The repressed desire inside of her and the hungry desperation of her kiss told him that they could share a very merry Christmas together, indeed.

After making his way to the shower, his eyes tired from the lack of sleep though he wasn’t as groggy as usual, he stepped under the hot water and thought about the moment by Joy’s door.

He had no doubt they would be good together, in spite of her worries. He soaped himself, wondering who had instilled such doubt in her mind about her own sexuality, and why it had taken such deep root. Whoever it was, the guy must have been a bastard. Joy kissed like an angel, he thought, remembering how soft her mouth had been, arousal shooting through him. Rinsing off, his palm curled around his cock, which was demanding attention.

As tempting as it might be, he resisted, backing off. Taking off a little steam never bothered him, but in this case, he wanted to wait—he wanted to stay in this suspended state of arousal, looking forward to what it would be like when he finally could show Joy how much fun they could have together.

His fingers moved instead to the shower dial, switching the water from hot to cold, solving the problem the old-fashioned way. Within moments he was back out, drying off and reaching for his jeans with a keen sense of expectation about seeing Joy later that day. Tonight would have to be soon enough, and in the meanwhile, he had enough house projects to keep him busy and pass the day.

As he was about to leave the house, however, Joy pulled into her driveway. He stopped and got out of the car, crossing the lawn to meet her.

“Hey—what are you doing home?”

She looked tired, as if she’d been up all night, as well. “I was going to go in late, but Ken actually told me to take a personal day—we had a great day yesterday, and he’s in a generous mood, so I took him up on it. Pam came by in the middle of the night with a problem, and I’m exhausted after staying up with her.”

“Who’s Pam?”

“Oh. A good friend. She runs the organization where I volunteer.”

“Is she still here?”

“No. She left before I got up, but I thought I’d justify my day off by making some cookies for the shelter, so I went to get some supplies.”

“That’s nice. Want help?”

She’d been talking to him over her shoulder as she was taking grocery out of the car, and finally she turned, their eyes meeting in a flash of heat.

“Um, sure,” she said, smiling. He nearly cheered out loud. Progress. “I haven’t baked anything for a while, so I can’t guarantee how successful this will be—do you know how to make cookies?”

“I know how to eat them,” he joked, taking two of the bags and walking with her toward the house.

“You can be the taste tester then. That way we’ll know that no one at the shelter will die from eating my cookies.”

“Oh, thanks, that’s just swell,” he responded with mock sarcasm, chuckling as they went inside. “So,” he said, following her into the kitchen and noticing the blankets still thrown over the living-room sofa where her friend must have stayed. “What kind of crisis did your friend have?”

“Oh, it’s with her love life, but unfortunately it could also mean trouble for Second Chance.”

He frowned as her voice broke on the last, and he realized she’d stopped unpacking things from the bags.

“You okay?”

She shook her head. “Sorry. I’m worried about the shelter. Pam has some potentially serious trouble, and I want to help. Maybe I could pass some thoughts by you, get your take?”

Rafe was surprised, and flattered. “Sure. Go ahead.”

“I want to find a way to offset the rumors circulating about the place—undeservedly—maybe some sort of event to show people how much good Pam does for the local community.”

Rafe took over unpacking the groceries, leaving items on the counter and said, “Why don’t you tell me what the problem is?”

Joy related most of Pam’s dilemma as succinctly as she could. To her relief, Rafe didn’t particularly see the issue with two consenting adults getting together, regardless of their backgrounds. However, he also knew the world could be far more judgmental, and said so. She warmed to him even more for being so accepting.

“I’ll give you what feedback I can, but it sounds like you’re already on the right track.”

He held out his hand. She took it, and there was a spark of something in her eyes that he liked very much.

No one was more surprised than he was when she launched herself forward into his arms. He was taken off guard, but not about to argue. Joy had a lot of emotion riding under the surface, and he wondered what it would be like when she really let go.

“Hey, I like this,” he teased.

She drew back, looking at him seriously, the way she always did, but her eyes were brighter.

“Thanks, Rafe. It’s nice to have someone to spend the day with, making cookies, bouncing ideas around. I’m so used to being by myself, but I like your company. A lot. The whole thing with Pam, with this guy she likes, well, it has me wondering how much we miss if we worry too much about what other people think.”

“That’s a good point. You have to make decisions that are right for you,” he said in a low tone, his eyes dropping to her mouth.

He knew what a huge step it was for her to be open with him, to share her thoughts and ask his opinion, and the urge to kiss her was killing him. When she didn’t move away, he gave in, dipping forward to taste her lightly, then more deeply until they were winding around each other, breathless. He walked her backward a few steps until she bumped into a chair and lost her footing. Steadying themselves, she laughed and pushed the hair back from her flushed cheeks.

“Maybe we should make those cookies.”

He nodded, his heart pounding from the kiss, his erection straining against his jeans. He could think of better ways to spend the day, but that wasn’t what Joy needed right now.

“Tell me what you want me to do, and I’m yours,” he said, knowing she’d pick up on the not-so-subtle innuendo in his offer. He meant every word.

BY FOUR O’CLOCK, the house was hot from the oven, as well as the sun shining in all day. Cookies surrounded her and Rafe on every side—all surfaces of the kitchen were covered with cooling, decorated or soon-to-be-decorated cookies.

Baking hadn’t been that difficult, really, and it had been fun. They’d worked together easily while brainstorming ideas to help the shelter. Rafe actually was a wonderful sounding board, and he was very creative, and told her what he thought honestly. She was even more excited about her ideas now and couldn’t wait to tell Pam. She felt so good to be doing something, not sitting around worrying.

Joy peeked at Rafe while he stood sprinkling sugar in a very precise, male fashion over a tray of frosted goodies—he was gorgeous, inside and out. He was so easygoing, happy to help. He genuinely seemed to like her company, too. Warmth stole through her, and she bit her lip, watching him. The T-shirt he wore was a little damp from the heat and stuck to his skin, revealing the strong muscles of his back, and she lowered her gaze to other delectable regions.

Rafe might be surrounded by sweets, but he was a sexy confection all by himself. She chuckled out loud, and covered her hand to her lips a moment too late. He turned, looking at her, a dab of green sugar at the corner of his lips.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, unaware.

“You’ve been sampling again,” she accused, her eyes transfixed on the sugar.

Following the direction of her stare, he started to lift his hand to remove the evidence, but she stepped forward, halting him. She shut off her mind and followed her instincts for once. It was about time she started taking some of the opportunities for fun that came her way.

“Let me,” she offered, her heart beating furiously as she slipped a hand behind his neck and lifted up to dart her tongue out and lick the sugar away.

He lasted for two strokes of her tongue against his skin until he pulled her up close with a groan and took over, backing her into the counter and kissing her so hard and so thoroughly that she couldn’t breathe, but air was highly overrated anyway. If she’d thought the temperature was hot in the kitchen before, it was rising by degrees as he kissed her.

“Joy, I want you something fierce,” he murmured in her ear, pressing the promise of his erection against her hip. Tension twisted inside of her, invading the moment—should she?

His hand slipped under the T-shirt she was wearing, finding her breasts, closing and rubbing, plucking and caressing the sensitive tips into hard points against his palm. Oh, my, he knew what he was doing, and her body responded to his dedicated, confident touch.

“You like that? How about this?”

Pulling her shirt off right there in her kitchen, he had her topless before she could object, not that she planned to. It was scandalous—the windows were open; she could hear voices out in the yard where a woman next door visited someone else across the fence. They couldn’t see … but they were there, and she and Rafe were … ohhh.

He suckled her so sweetly she dug her fingers into his hair and she managed to quell her moan to a whimper, lest she be heard through the screen door. When he drew away, lapping her skin with his tongue, she objected with a muted groan.

“Come here,” he said, his eyes wicked as he grasped a bowl of frosting they’d been using for cookies.

She held perfectly still, unbearably aroused as he used the soft spatula to completely frost her breasts. Her skin was so hot she figured the confection would melt right off her skin. Rafe smiled devilishly, reaching for some red cinnamon sprinkles. Her eyes went wide.

“Rafe, what are you doing?”

“Decorating you—you are plenty tasty enough all on your own, but this is fun—isn’t it?” He looked at her intently, and she had no choice but to agree.

“Yes, it is.”

He took great care in “decorating” her, and she thought she would go crazy, dying for his mouth on her, waiting interminable minutes before he stepped back to admire his masterpiece. He yanked off his own shirt and hauled her against him for a deep kiss.

“You ruined all that hard work,” she whispered breathlessly as he released her, icing and cinnamon candies smeared all over his chest now, as well.

“Now we get to share,” he said with an evil wiggle of his eyebrows, making her laugh, then moan, as he began licking away the frosting with dedicated thoroughness, his tongue washing every inch of her clean, her body on fire and writhing as he did. She was short of begging him to take her by the time he finished, and she knew he could tell that when he looked at her.

“Do you want this, Joy? Do you want me?”

She’d never wanted anything more. He was like every dream she’d ever had—literally—coming true. But even her dreams, while hot, hadn’t been this fun, this real.

She held his gaze, nodded, and he smiled in heartfelt relief, as if he’d been poised on an edge, waiting. The fact that he seemed to have held his breath for her answer made her feel special. Within seconds he was naked and so was she. A tray of cookies slid noisily to the floor as he made room for her on the counter, his movements sure but urgent.

She couldn’t believe a man, let alone a man like Rafe, wanted her this badly. She could see in the way his eyes raked over her, in the hardness of his body and the tremble of his hand, how much he needed her.

“I’ve never done this before … on a kitchen counter, I mean,” she said hesitantly, watching him grab a condom from his wallet and slide it over his shaft. She was on the pill, but didn’t protest. The next thing she knew, he was flush up against her, that delicious part of him sliding against her heat, though he didn’t make his way inside.

“I hope you’ll find this worth sacrificing a few cookies for,” he teased, planting his palm on the crease of her hip and thigh, his thumb rubbing the hot slit of her flesh, making her gasp in delight. His hand was large and warm, his fingertips slightly rough, probably from the work he was doing on Warren’s house, and the sensations his touch brought forth were mind-blowing.

“What cookies?” she joked breathlessly, arching against him. She curled her fingers around the counter’s edge, positioning herself and opening for him as he eased inside of her, big and hot, filling her completely. She trembled with the completeness of it. Yes, this was better than her dreams—and her dreams had been pretty damned good.

“Definitely worth trashing the cookies,” she said, hearing him chuckle as he began to move, rocking his hips in a steady rhythm, finding her mouth with his and parrying his tongue with hers in the same way.

There was a delectable pressure building inside—something she couldn’t remember experiencing with another man, ever.

Rafe couldn’t seem to stop kissing her, her mouth, her face, her neck, murmuring hot words now and then, but mostly his lips were engaged in kissing every spot of her he could reach as he drove himself forward with increasing speed, touching her everywhere, urging her to come along with him.

She wanted to—she honestly did. Satisfaction hovered on the edge like a lightning bolt on the horizon, ready to strike, but the moment she became conscious of it, the brightness disappeared.

She groaned in frustration—why, why couldn’t she do this simple thing? Her body was obviously willing, though her mind wouldn’t let go. Sex was in the brain, so they said, and she seemed like living proof. Her brain was completely out of sync with her body.

Knowing it wasn’t going to happen, she didn’t intend to risk Rafe’s disappointment. They’d had a perfect day, and she wasn’t going to let on that she couldn’t live up to his expectations.

Turning her attention back to the moment, she relished the strong grip of his hands on her backside, how his fingers pressed in as he buried his face in her neck. Following his gentle cues, she lifted her legs up over his shoulders, increasing the intensity of the vocals she made, indicating she was reaching her climax, and loving how he responded by hammering even harder into her, throwing his head back. She watched him, not entirely minding that she wasn’t completely in the moment; it was worth it just to observe the wild intensity with which he made love to her.

She’d never seen a man so utterly open and uninhibited—and with her. The idea that he reacted to her this way touched a chord deep inside. She couldn’t stop watching him.

No sooner had she become aware of the glimmer of possibility than his jaw clenched tight until he let out a grown of release, fitting himself so tightly into her that she was sure even air couldn’t move between them as he finished. He pulled her against him, his chest heaving breaths of spent passion.

Her body slid against his, both of them sweaty and slick as he lifted her back down to the floor. She cuddled against him, enjoying the moment. He felt so good to her, there was no denying that.

As their breathing settled, he rubbed her back and stepped away a little, looking down into her face. He looked more relaxed, more handsome, if that was even possible.

“That was wonderful,” he said, and she nodded, not quite meeting his gaze, kissing his shoulder.

“Yes, it was.”

He backed up another step, framing her face in his palms and looking at her with a gaze so penetrating she nearly had to turn away. “Joy, I know a lot about the human body, and about women. What I don’t know is why you’d fake it with me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Joy,” he said in gentle admonition, and she moved away, bending to reach for her clothes.

“Fine, I faked. So what? It was nice anyway, I enjoyed it—I think I might have come close, but I typically don’t … I’ve rarely been able to, uh …”

“Orgasm,” he stated bluntly.

She looked away stubbornly, pulling on her underwear and her shirt. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me instead of pretending?”

“I didn’t want to make it bad for you—I didn’t want you to be disappointed.”

“Why would I be disappointed? How could it be bad? It was incredible. A lot of women have trouble in that department, and if you’d told me, I could have done something else.”

His voice lowered to a sexy pitch when he said the simple words something else, making her flutter all over in response, but she also didn’t know what to say. No man had ever talked to her this bluntly before—none had cared, happy to enjoy themselves and go on their way. She’d gotten used to it, and Rafe’s penetrating gaze and questions made her squirm, awkward and exposed.

He put his hands on her arms, making her face him.

“Listen, okay, fine,” she said blusteringly. “I know this is a guy thing, you like to know you can make us respond, and I did respond, Rafe, as best I could. I loved what you did, but I’m too uptight. I think too much, and I can’t turn it off. It’s not you, it’s me,” she joked lamely.

Joy felt on edge, probably because her body was still riled up. Rafe didn’t make it easy; he didn’t let her off the hook, and she didn’t know exactly how to deal with it. Rafe didn’t want spin, he only wanted the truth.

“Joy, we can try lots of different things, whatever you want,” he said quietly. Leaning in to kiss her, she didn’t kiss him back, but didn’t draw away, either. “Let me show you—we can experiment, play, whatever.”

Joy wanted to believe that, but she knew … she just knew that as long as her mind was engaged, she wasn’t going to be able to loosen up enough to find satisfaction. The wheels in her mind spun around an idea, one she wasn’t sure she should speak out loud. Would he think she was a total freak?

Regardless of her doubts, she wanted badly to be with Rafe—she wanted so much to believe what he was saying, and there might be one way they could both enjoy their time together.

“You’re open to anything?”

“As long as it doesn’t involve serious physical injury, animals or shaving off my body hair, yes. Anything.”

She laughed. He made her laugh so easily. That was a good thing, wasn’t it?

“My doctor told me my little problem wasn’t anything physical—I’m mentally blocked. I can, uh, you know … help myself,” she admitted, and saw his eyes blaze with interest. “Then there are my dreams…. Nothing holds me back in dreams, so it’s only a problem when I’m awake, apparently,” she tried to joke, but it fell flat.

“That’s good to know,” he said, not laughing, either, touching her face gently.

“So I’m thinking, maybe we should try being together at night. You know, if you come over and sleep here, and I start to dream … I think I would be less … repressed, just then.”

His brow furrowed, and she held her breath, afraid he would refuse.

“I’m all for spending the night in your bed, Joy—but are you saying you want me to have sex with you while you’re sleeping?”

She fidgeted, but decided to boldly state her case, since he had said he’d do anything.

“Well, I mean, I have these hot dreams, and they’re about you anyway, and maybe if you’re there, then if things start up, and maybe my mind would be as receptive as my body. I do want you, Rafe.”

He pulled on his jeans, taking a moment to think.

“I see your point, but I wouldn’t want to startle you, or worse, while you’re sleeping. Chances are those dreams are about more than sex. Maybe if we spend some time during the day together, and get to know each other a little, that would help, too. You know, the Japanese sometimes make foreplay last all day long, or longer, before actually having sex.” He smiled naughtily. “I think we’ve gotten a good start in that area.”

“Oh,” was all she could say. The thought of all-day foreplay with Rafe made her knees weak.

“So why don’t we clean this mess up and take a shower—” he looked down at the frosting dried to his chest “—and then we can head down to the shelter to talk with your friend.”

“You want to come to the shelter?”

“Sure, I want to help if I can.”

Joy chewed on her lip, thinking. “I don’t know. It’s probably not anything you really want to bother with, seeing as you’re just here for—”

“Joy,” he said, cutting her off.

“Huh?”

“Don’t close me out, and don’t make what’s between us low—I’m not just here for sex.”

She cleared her throat. “I was going to say, as you’re just here for a few weeks.”

“Oh. Whoops.” He slanted an embarrassed grin, but recovered quickly. “Well, I want to help, if I can. It’s less than a week before Christmas, and you have an ambitious plan, so I’ll be another set of hands. I’d like to be part of this with you, even if for a little while.”

She didn’t know why having him come to the shelter was so difficult, as if she were sharing more with him now than her body. Still, his appeal was sincere. He’d listened to her all day and had some good ideas.

“Okay. I appreciate that.”

“Thanks. It’ll be a fun day. And then …” His voice trailed off, but he was smiling in a way that made her blood warm and her muscles loose.

“And then?”

“I want to spend the night with you, Joy—I’d like to spend every night that I’m here with you. I’ve got enough of an ego that I’d like you to be awake when I’m inside of you. I want you to know you’re with me, not just in your dreams, flattering as that is. I want you to know it, remember everything I do to you.”

The way he said it made her melt. She remembered quite well what it was like when he filled her body with his own, and she would like to be awake for that, too.

“I know. Me, too. Maybe this is a way to get to that point?”

He pulled her close. “Sure … but first let’s go take that shower.”