Читать книгу The Naughty List Bundle with The Night Before Christmas & Yule Be Mine - Fern Michaels - Страница 23

Jonas sucked in a deep gulp of air. The fresh scent of pine filled his nostrils even as the taste of Christie stayed on his tongue.

He rolled his shoulders and paced toward the glittering tree. Okay, so he hadn’t fucked things up too badly. She was still interested in him. Well, maybe not him, but in having sex with him. No-strings, no-promises sex.

He’d sure had plenty of that in his life.

The door creaked open behind him. He swung around and took a hard punch to the gut—or at least, it sure as shit felt like he did.

Christie stood in the doorway, her long black hair loose around her face, her deep blue bedroom eyes tempting him…and she was naked.

His cock shoved against the front of his jeans, and he lunged toward her.

“The panties fit,” she told him, her cheeks a little red, and he managed to jerk his gaze off her breasts—freaking beautiful breasts with tight pink nipples—and he saw that she was wearing the scrap of lace.

Not naked. Still so sexy he hurt.

The lace rode low on her round, perfect hips. Hips that he’d grab and hold tight while he drove into her. Hips that—

“Jonas, is everything—”

“Perfect. Everything is fucking perfect.” He took two steps and stood before her. Stood and just stared. Damn. Her skin was so smooth. Pale and perfect and he had to touch her. His hands lifted and skimmed down her shoulders. She shivered.

She wants me, just as much as I want her.

“The bedroom—it’s behind me and—”

He shook his head, caught her hand and pulled her with him. Back across the room. Back toward the glittering Christmas tree. A thick rug was spread between the tree and the fireplace. Perfect.

“Are you going to—to take off your clothes? Y-you should—”

He gently pushed her down onto the rug. “Not yet.”

Her breath blew out in a rush. He lowered onto his knees. Stared more and realized he had to touch. Not just with his hands. With his mouth.

He knew just where he wanted to start.

“Jonas, are you—”

Her words ended in a gasp when he licked her breast. She arched up toward him. Just as responsive as last night. So, no, he hadn’t been imaging things. Hadn’t made it better in his memory. One touch—fire.

He spread his lips wider and took her breast deeper into his mouth. Tasted. Sucked.

Jonas heard the rasp of her breath. Her hands rose and locked around his shoulders. The faint edge of her nails bit through his shirt.

“Easy,” he whispered as he lifted his head.

But his “good” girl shook her head. “I don’t want easy. I want you.” Her hand went to the buckle of his belt. “And I want you now, Jonas.”

She unhooked the buckle, went for the snap and the zipper—

He backed away from her. “Not yet.” He wasn’t going to let the first time be too fast or too hard. He’d promised her the best sex she’d ever had, and he was damn well going to deliver on that promise.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered, his voice dropping to a growl.

Her legs shifted on the rug, then parted.

The zipper was probably making a permanent imprint on his dick.

He positioned his body between her legs, letting his jeans brush her flesh, and giving him a perfect view of her body.

She stared at him, eyes wide, lips parted, pink tongue darting just behind her teeth. Waiting.

He stretched over her and took her mouth. Jonas kissed her long and deep and let his tongue take and claim. He took her mouth the way he’d be taking her body.

Mine.

He’d make sure she didn’t forget him, not any time soon. Not ever.

Jonas licked his way down her neck. When he came to the spot just under her left ear, her hips rocked up against him. He stilled. Then licked her again.

Another fast rock.

So his lady had a sweet spot. He bet she had more, and he was ready to find them all. But first…

His fingers eased under the lace. Sweetest spot of all. He found her already wet, the flesh plump and eager. A moan trembled in her throat.

He bit lightly on her neck, and when her hips arched, he let his index finger dip inside her.

She shuddered beneath him. Fuck yes.

But…not yet. He pulled his hand away from her and kissed his way down her body. Jonas took his time with her breasts, licking and sucking those dark tips. He loved the feel of her nipples on his tongue. The taste—still strawberries—still driving him crazy.

Her thighs lifted and squeezed him. “I can’t—more!”

He’d give her more. He’d give her everything she could handle and everything she couldn’t.

The curve of her stomach tempted his mouth. When his lips pressed just under her belly button, she gasped his name. Another spot. A weakness for her, a temptation for him. He bit her, then sucked the flesh. Jonas marked the area, and she trembled beneath him, as her hands rose to clutch his shoulders.

His head lowered more. He licked down her abdomen and let his breath blow against that lace.

“J-Jonas…” Sweat beaded his brow as he looked up at her. Lust and need burned in her eyes. “Jonas, I want you to—”

Taste me.

The words hung in the air between them. But she bit her lips and her gaze dropped.

He blew against the lace once more. Her hips lifted helplessly. “You want me to touch you again?”

A jerky nod.

His fingers caressed her through the lace. He traced lightly over her sex, feeling the material dampen. Christie was ready for him, and he was insane for her.

He lowered his mouth to that lace. Jonas kissed her through the fabric and felt her body go bow tight. It wouldn’t take much to push her into a climax. Not much at all.

His fingers pulled on the lace. His control slipped away, breaking from him as her scent teased him and—

And the lace ripped.

“Buy you more,” he promised as he tossed the scraps aside. He put his mouth right on her and tasted her flesh like he’d wanted. When his tongue pressed against the center of her need, Christie came, shuddering beneath him as she whispered his name on a long, hard sigh.

But he didn’t stop. Wasn’t close to stopping. He tasted and he took and when she came against his mouth a second time, he felt the trembles of her orgasm.

He pushed away from her. The drum of his heartbeat filled his ears. It took two seconds to ditch his jeans. Two more to slide on his condom and then he was plunging into her. Driving as deep as he could go. The ripples of her release teased his cock, and he drove into her, faster, harder.

His hands caught hers. Their fingers threaded together. Their eyes locked.

Thrust.

So blue. So dark. Her eyes held his. Wild with lust.

The tree lights glittered down on them. Shining.

Thrust.

Her legs were around his hips, holding so tight. Her ankles pressed against him, and she met him, thrust for thrust. He drove into her, deeper, harder.

“Jonas!”

He climaxed with her—and it was fucking incredible.

Eventually, they made it to her bed. Had sex again. Slow and tender this time. Christie was pretty sure there wasn’t an inch of her body that Jonas hadn’t kissed.

She felt so good. No, better than good. Better than she’d ever felt.

“You sure know how to deliver on a promise,” she murmured as her hand trailed down the muscular expanse of his chest.

His eyes opened, and he turned his head toward her.

“That was definitely the best sex I’ve had,” she told him.

His lips parted, but she leaned forward, fast, and kissed him. Don’t tell me any lies. Don’t tell me I’m the best. Don’t.

Jonas wasn’t like her. Sheltered didn’t enter his vocabulary. She knew the guy had been with more sexual partners than she had. She didn’t want to hear lies from him, not now, not ever.

“Another rule for us,” she whispered as she pulled back and smiled at him. Christie smiled so he wouldn’t see that it mattered to her. “No lies, okay?” She’d had plenty of those from her other lovers.

From Benjamin, her first lover. He’d sworn he loved her, but really just loved her family’s money. Yes, she’d found out about that. Thanks to Jonas. When Ben had started talking about an engagement, Daniel had used Jonas to dig up background information on the guy. It hadn’t taken long before they found out about Ben’s debts. When her dad had offered Ben ten grand to walk…the guy had run.

And now the dust was still settling from Charles. Another lover who’d lied. Another mistake.

“I’ve never lied to you.” Jonas’s deep voice rumbled beside her.

No, he hadn’t.

“Then let’s not start.” Her hand stilled on his chest. “I don’t want you to promise me forever.” Ben had done that. Forever had lasted two months. “I don’t want you to tell me I’m the love of your life.” Ronnie had done that. He’d told her she was great. Wonderful. They’d had sex—the sex that had just been…bad. The great love affair had ended fast. “I don’t want to hear all the pretty lies that men can use.”

His hand caught hers. “Didn’t realize you were so cynical, Christie.”

She laughed at that. “I didn’t realize I was, either.”

He brought her hand to his lips. “Then let’s go ahead and clear the air.”

Her brows rose.

“I’m not sleeping with you because I want a slice of that Tate money.” He bit the pad of her palm. “Yeah, I remember that dick Ben. He thought he’d hit pay dirt when he found you in college.”

Had she really been so naive? No. But it hadn’t been college, she’d been in grad school then. “I never agreed to marry him.” She hadn’t loved him. Even then, she’d—

“I didn’t want him using you. I know it pissed you off the way that scene went down.” Another bite, then a lick of his tongue. “Daniel and I wanted you safe.”

“And here I didn’t think you’d ever cared.” She tried to sound flippant.

His hold tightened on her hand. “There’s a lot you don’t know.” His breath feathered over her hand. “When I’m with you, I’m with you. There’s no one else for me.” He paused. “Or for you. I’m not the sharing kind.”

“Neither am I.” But how long would they have together? Just how long would her wish last?

“This holiday is mine,” he told her, and he leaned forward, catching the back of her head. “You made your wish, and this year, you’ll get it—me—as many times as you can handle.”

His lips were so close to hers. “I-I think I can handle quite a lot.” Everything.

This holiday. She’d take him, she’d take the pleasure he gave, and when the new year came…well, she’d deal with that then.

Now, she’d deal with the big, bad, sexy detective in her bed. Christie parted her lips and kissed her Santa Claus.

The beeping woke her hours later. A long, steady pulse of sound. She threw out her hand, reaching for her alarm clock, and her hand hit warm, male flesh.

“It’s mine,” a deep voice growled.

Her eyes flew open and she saw a dark shadow pull away from her and rise from the bed.

Wh—Jonas. Sex. Pleasure.

She blinked a few times, fast. Those first few moments after waking were always a little fuzzy for her.

But—what was his? What was—

“North and Byron. Right. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” His voice didn’t sound so sleepy. He seemed completely awake. Aware. Distant. She squinted as she tried to force her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Jonas was on a phone. That’s what the buzzing had been—his phone ringing.

She sat up in bed and pulled the covers to her chest. A glance at the alarm clock told her it was only a little past four a.m.

Callused fingertips brushed her cheek. “I have to go.”

She jerked a bit, surprised to find him so close.

His hand dropped.

She reached out at once, fumbling in the darkness. “What’s happened?”

“Baby, you don’t want to know.”

She found his hand and held tight. “I told you. I’m not some princess in a castle. I can handle your life.”

He exhaled, the sound a rough sigh that drifted to her. “A man shot his wife and turned the gun on himself. They need me at the scene ASAP.” He pulled away from her and she missed him instantly. “You know I transferred to homicide.”

No more undercover missions for him. Daniel had told her that. But…still blood and death.

Clothes rustled. He was dressing. He’d be leaving soon. She jumped from the bed and rammed her thigh into the nightstand that she’d known was there. “Wait!” She scrambled, dragging the sheet with her and caught him at the bedroom door.

“I have to go, it’s my job. You know—”

“Come back when your work’s done.” The words slipped out. She didn’t want him going back home alone after this case. His voice had been too cold when he told her about the crime. Too emotionless. It wasn’t a crime that didn’t matter to him. No, this one would matter too much.

Jonas kept saying he knew more about her than she realized. She knew a heck of a lot more about him, too. Far more than he suspected.

She flipped on the lights and saw his face. The tight lines, the hard mask. “Come back to me when your work’s done,” she said again. “I’ll be here. I don’t care what time it is.” Come back to me.

“I have to secure the scene, talk to witnesses. I have to—”

“I don’t care how long it takes. I’ll be here.”

He kissed her then. Too fast, too hard, and she knew he had to go. Christie followed him to the garage door. He’d pulled his car inside earlier.

She watched him leave. When the garage door opened, she saw that it had started to snow again. Soft, drifting snowflakes floated in the air.

She pulled the sheet tighter around her body and felt the chill seep into her bones.

A man shot his wife and turned the gun on himself. A horrible crime. So terrible. So brutal.

And…it was Jonas’s worst nightmare. She knew it. After he’d dug into Benjamin’s past, she’d wanted a little vengeance. So she’d dug into Jonas’s life. She’d found out his life wasn’t nearly as perfect as she’d thought.

Not even close.

When Jonas had been sixteen, he’d come home to find his mother’s dead body. She’d been killed by a man she knew and loved—Jonas’s father.

“Come back to me,” Christie whispered, but Jonas was already gone.

He didn’t come back. Christie stared at the clock on her bedside once more. Ten p.m. There’d been no call, though she really hadn’t expected that. No call…and no sign of Jonas as the hours had slipped by.

She should go to bed. Okay, she was in bed, but she should go to sleep. Stop thinking about him. Stop worrying.

But she’d seen a picture of him years before when she’d done her vengeance digging. A grainy photo of him at his parents’ funeral.

He’d been alone then.

She shoved back the covers. She’d be damned if she left him alone now. She wouldn’t—

Something thudded against her front door. Her heart raced even as she jumped to her feet. Thudded? No, wait that was knocking—pounding—at her door.

Christie ran down the hallway. She almost fell when her socks slid across the foyer floor. But she made it to the door and pressed her eye to the peephole. The porch light fell across Jonas’s stark face.

She wrenched open the door as fast as she could.

No present waited in his hands this time. No smile lit his face. He stared at her with glittering eyes. The snow had turned into icy rain, pelting down behind him. She grabbed his hand. “Come in, Jonas! Hurry!”

He let her pull him across the threshold. “It’s late. I shouldn’t be here.”

“This is exactly where you should be.” She shoved off his coat. He’d changed shirts, jeans.

His gaze dropped. “I stopped at my place, I should have”—his hands flexed, balling into fists—“should have just stayed there. You don’t need to—”

“I need you.” More than she’d realized. So much more.

His hands caught hers and held too tight.

“Jonas.” Her chest hurt. “It’s okay, I know—”

He kissed her. Not the sexy, hungry kisses he’d given her before. The kisses that teased and tormented and made her want more. Things were different. He was different.

The kiss was rough, demanding. His tongue drove into her mouth even as he lifted her into his arms. The bite of his fingers stung her arms, but she didn’t stop him. She wrapped her arms around him and held on as tight as she could, her grip as fierce as his.

They made it to the bedroom. He tossed her on the bed and stripped while watching her with his too-bright stare.

She didn’t wait for him to touch her. Christie yanked off her T-shirt and shimmied out of her shorts and panties.

He grabbed her ankle, pulling her to the edge of the bed.

“Can’t wait this time.” There was a dangerous edge to the words. Tension held his body tight. A muscle flexed in his jaw. “Can’t wait.”

She parted her thighs wider for him. “I don’t want you to wait.” She’d told him before that slow and easy wasn’t what she needed from him. “I just want you.”

“Careful what you wish for,” he muttered. He had a condom on already. She hadn’t even seen him pull out the packet.

He plunged into her, slamming balls-deep in a thrust that stole her breath. She’d said she could handle it, handle him, but she hadn’t realized…

Her hands pushed against his shoulders.

Jonas froze. His gaze held hers. Rage boiled in his stare. Lust.

Fear?

“Christie…”

She rolled her hips beneath him as she tried to find a better position. Then his hand was stroking her, pressing in just the right spot. His mouth went to her neck, and when his tongue licked her beneath her ear, a moan slipped past her lips and the tension eased away from her body.

This was Jonas. She could trust him. He’d keep her safe. Give her pleasure, always.

He withdrew. Thrust deep again. Still hard, still wild, but she was ready for him. Her hands held tight to his shoulders. The bed shook beneath them. The headboard banged into the wall.

More. Harder. Deeper.

His teeth pressed lightly against her throat. His hands caught her legs, and he lifted them high, even as he drove into her. Again and again.

The orgasm hit her, sweeping over her on a fierce wave of pleasure that had her tensing and digging her fingers into his flesh. His head shot up and he stared down at her with eyes that blazed too bright.

Too much lust. Too much need.

“Christie…” He took her mouth. Kissed her as he came.

She held him as close as she could and felt the frantic, thudding beat of her heart.

Her heart…or his?

In the aftermath, they didn’t speak. He pulled away from her, when she wanted to hold him close. But they were just about sex, right? Not emotions. Just sex.

So why was she blinking back tears when he withdrew from her? Why was she swiping those teardrops away as fast as she could while he was in the bathroom?

She pressed her damp hand against the bed, trying to wipe away the evidence, and she hurriedly slipped under the covers. The sex had been intense. Almost too intense. The climax had hit her when she hadn’t expected that much pleasure. It had dug through her, hollowing out her body until she felt like only a thin shell remained.

The lights clicked off, and the room plunged into darkness. She was grateful for the darkness then. It was so easy to hide in the shadows.

Was that why Jonas had turned off the lights?

The bed dipped when he climbed in beside her. She wanted to roll toward him, but—yes, dammit—fear held her back.

He reached for her instead, smoothing his fingers down her arm. “Did I hurt you?”

What? “No, of course not!”

“I was rough, I shouldn’t have—”

She rolled toward Jonas and grabbed him. “You didn’t break me. You didn’t even bruise me.” But she might have bruised him. There at the end, she’d held on as tightly as she could.

His hand broke from hers, and his fingers traced her cheek. Her breath caught. No, don’t let him feel—

“Were you crying?” His voice was gruff. “Jesus, Christie, I did hurt you!”

“Has anything ever felt so good,” she asked him slowly, “that it made you cry?” The pleasure had been that intense. So intense she hadn’t wanted it to end. She’d just wanted more.

“There haven’t been a lot of good things in my life lately,” he told her. His lips pressed against her cheeks as he kissed away the tear tracks. “Not until now,” he murmured, and her breath caught.

No, no, he couldn’t mean what she thought. Just sex. “I was worried about you.” It seemed safe to make the confession in the dark.

Silence. Tension hummed in the air. “No need, baby. It’s my job. I take down killers every day.”

But not killers that hit so close to home. Suddenly, she wanted to break through his shell and force him to open up to her. “I know what happened.”

“Yeah”—he slid away from her—“an asshole high on drugs shot his wife and then turned the gun on himself when the cops showed up. A wasted—”

“I don’t mean today.” Her tongue felt too thick in her mouth, and her heart still beat too fast. “I mean…b-before…with y-your parents.” Of course, the stutter would be back. No way to hide her nerves.

The silence was painful. Then he rolled away, fast, and light exploded in the room when he hit the lamp.

He stared down at her, naked, eyes narrowed. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Good thing she’d already pulled up the sheet. “I-I know what happened to your family.” And how hard today must have been. So hard that when you came back—

“How?” he bit out.

Ah, now this part was dicey. “Jonas—”

“Did you call Daniel when I left? Did he tell you that shit about—”

“I’ve never talked to Daniel about this.” She took a breath, a deep one. No stutter.

“Then how did you find out? Who’ve you been talking to?”

She tucked the covers around her legs. “I found out over ten years ago. Right after you discovered that Ben was a gold digger.” Her shoulders lifted and fell in a shrug that was anything but careless. “You tore into my life, so—”

“So you thought it was only fair to tear into mine.” He spun away and yanked on his jeans. “Dammit, I did that to protect you! Your father and brother asked for my help! I’d just started working as a cop, we were all worried—”

“I know.” But back then, she’d only been angry. Hurt. Humiliated. The family had bought off her lover. They hadn’t tried to talk to her, they’d just tried to run her life.

Not anymore.

“How?”

She blinked. “It wasn’t hard, Jonas.” Everything was public record. “I knew you’d been born in Athens, Georgia. I just searched through some of the newspapers online and tried to find a reference to you.”

“Because you wanted some payback?”

Because she’d wanted to know him. “I saw a clipping about their deaths. A picture of you at the funeral.”

He stopped pacing near the foot of her bed. “All this time, you’ve known?”

She gave a quick nod.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

I didn’t know what to say. Sorry just didn’t seem to cover the situation. “Why didn’t you?” she asked instead, her voice soft.

The laugh that came from him held no humor. “We already covered that you and I didn’t talk much.” He strode closer to her. “You knew and you still came to me?”

She didn’t understand.

His hand lifted, as if he were going to touch her cheek. But his fingers fisted and fell away. “I knew I shouldn’t have touched you.”

Now that was bull. “You’re the man who should have touched me.” Long ago. It was late and the words were weak, but she continued, “I-I’m sorry about your parents. That must have been terrible for you. I can’t even imagine what it must have been like—”

His head snapped up. He stared at her with glittering eyes and a clenched jaw. The angry mask was back in full effect.

Her chin notched up, too. She clutched the sheet, tucked it under her arms, climbed out of the bed, and grabbed him. “I know I don’t understand how it felt, okay? But I am sorry you had to go through that. No one should ever see—”

“The bloody bodies of their parents?” His lips twisted. “I see bodies every day. It’s my job.”

“That wasn’t your job.”

“That’s why I do my job. That’s why I became a cop.”

Yes, she’d thought as much. The newspaper report had said…

“He was on drugs, Christie. My old man was so strung out he barely recognized his own family. My mom had kicked him out. She was trying to get a better life for us.”

A life that ended too soon. That fist was back, squeezing her heart too tightly. She didn’t let Jonas go. Christie kept her hands on him, her eyes on his.

“He broke in. By the looks of the place, I know he came looking for money. He trashed everything. My mom—she must have been trying to stop him when he—he—” His lips snapped closed. But she knew what came next.

Sixteen. He’d been through so much, so young.

“The cops told me it looked like he tried to help her. He even managed to make a 9-1-1 call. Hell, maybe the asshole finally realized what the hell he’d done. He called the ambulance for her, and then he killed himself. One shotgun blast to the head.”

But Jonas had arrived before the ambulance. He’d been the one to find the bodies.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and let the sheet drop. She held him as tight as she could. Her lips pressed against his neck.

“You should be telling me to get the hell out now.” His arms weren’t around her. His body was held stiffly, too tense and hard. “My dad was an addict who killed my mom. You know what kind of bloodline I’ve got, you don’t need to be—”

“Shut up, Jonas.” Now he was pissing her off. “You’re not your dad.” She lifted her head. “You’re a good man, a good cop. You just got a real crap hand dealt to you.”

His eyes widened a bit.

“Now get back in bed,” she ordered him, hoping her voice sounded tough and strong. Hoping he didn’t notice that her hands were shaking a bit. The new Christie she was trying to be—the wild girl who went after what she wanted—well, she wouldn’t let her man walk away. Not after the hell he’d had today. She wouldn’t wilt under that hot green stare. Wouldn’t flinch from the pain in his past. No, the new Christie would be tougher than that.

Jonas slowly climbed back into bed with her. Her breath eased out when his head touched the pillow. Good.

She hit the lights and plunged them back into darkness because she could only keep the veil of that new Christie up for so long.

Jonas’s arms came around her, pulling her against his body. A warm, strong body. A strong lover. One who was hers, for a brief time.

No commitments. It was just supposed to be about sex, right? And just sex meant no emotions.

So why the hell was she blinking away tears again and hoping that none of the drops fell onto his arms?

The cops told me it looked like he tried to help her.

The new Christie might be bluffing her way through the game, but underneath that fake cover, she was the same woman. A woman who cared too much. A woman who had one very big weakness.

A weakness who was holding her in his arms, close to his heart.