Abby's Christmas Spirit (7 page)

It did.

When she followed her mouth with a slide of her hand across the slick, hard surface, squeezing tightly, he jerked on the counter. “I’m going to…”

Before he could even finish the sentence, he gave a low moan as hot liquid starting pumping into her mouth. Abby kept at him with her suction and tight grip, letting some of his come slip out and trickle down her fingers. The rest she swallowed, a first for her.

But it felt right, sexy, erotic.

When his stranglehold on her head loosened, she pulled back, wiping her own lips the way he had his.

He grinned, letting his head fall back against the cabinet. “Holy shit. Thank you.”

She smiled back, thrilled she had pleased him. “Oh, I don’t think thanks are necessary.”

He was about to kiss her again when they heard the front door open. “Fuck,” was Darius’s opinion. He shoved himself back into his pants.

Abby moved away and straightened her skirt. She tried to pat down her hair, but it was sticking up all over from his fingers. “I guess I should get my stuff out of the parlor. You’re filming tonight?”

“Yeah.” Darius was zipping his pants up when Trent walked into the kitchen.

It was obvious that they looked guilty, because immediately the guy stopped in his tracks and said, “Are you kidding me? Really?”

“It’s my house,” Darius told him, a little defensively.

Abby decided to ignore both of them and brushed past the frowning producer and went to blow out the candles. The mistletoe was crushed, but still clinging to her waistband. Apparently it had worked its magic on Darius.

“Do you have any Febreze?” she heard Trent ask. “It smells like sex in here.”

Ouch. Awkward. But she was never one to ignore a reality. Lifting one of her still lit candles, she walked it towards the kitchen, the flame flickering vigorously in the dark room. When she got to the harsh lighting of the kitchen, she squinted a little, but placed it on the countertop. “Here. It’s scented cinnamon. That should freshen things up.”

Both men looked at her like she’d grown a third eyeball. “What? He said it smells like sex, which it does.”

Maybe she was supposed to be classier and pretend demurely that nothing had happened. But it had. And she’d never been good at pretending.

Trent gave a bark of laughter.

Darius looked mortified. “Can I give you a ride home?” he asked. “I don’t like the idea of you walking in the dark.”

It wasn’t actually a declaration of love, but at least he wasn’t sticking his boot in her ass and shoving her out the door. “Sure. I guess I’ll go to Bree’s house.”

If she had expected a little more, well, that was her problem, not his. “Do you have a broom or a mop to clean up the glass and the wine?”

Darius looked at the floor like he was remembering how the bottle had gotten dropped in the first place. Abby did too, the feel of his body pressed tight against hers still fresh in her memory.

“I’ll take care of it,” Trent said. “Just get out of here, you crazy kids.”

Abby liked Darius’s producer. He had a sense of humor. “Thanks so much. I’m really sorry. It was an accident.”

“Eighty percent of life is an accident. The other twenty percent we’re asleep.”

Abby didn’t believe in accidents. She believed life had purpose.

Darius seemed to agree. “That’s cracked. I have a plan. An accident is tripping over a doorjamb. Not choosing a job or a spouse.”

“You mean I can’t trip over my future wife? No wonder I’m single.”

Abby laughed. After packing away her spell casting materials, she followed Darius out to his truck. She would have expected him to drive a flashy sports car or an expensive sedan, but it was just a regular old Ford truck. Loaded, but nothing fancy. “Turn right here,” she said.

“Do you have an address? I can just put it in my GPS.”

“It’s three blocks away. Just turn right.” She was at heart a small town girl and sometimes she found city folk overcomplicated things.

“So…” Darius glanced at her, his hands gripping the steering wheel the way they had her head just ten minutes earlier. “That was unexpected.”

To him, maybe. Not to her. “Sometimes the best things are. Hopefully not an accident though.”

“No. I was conscious of what I was doing. Can I see you tomorrow? I’m leaving the day after Christmas and I’m sure Christmas Eve and Christmas day you’re busy with family, but I would like to see you at least tomorrow.”

He sounded nervous. Bree didn’t feel remotely nervous. She felt satisfied that things were moving in the direction they were supposed to. Initially she had been really unhappy to discover that her dream guy was Darius. But she thought about it and realized she trusted the universe. She trusted that if he were right for her, it would work out. He had to be a decent man or he wouldn’t have been presented to her as an option.

“Sure.”

“Maybe we can go to lunch and then, well, I have a hotel room, and it actually has furniture.”

“Turn left. Sure,” she repeated, content. His clear desire to see her pleased her, as did his nervousness. She threw him off kilter and she knew that was necessary. He was a man who approached his life like it was a business, and that wouldn’t work. Not with her. Not with love. You couldn’t have a plan for everything. Sometimes you needed to trust your gut. Your heart.

She knew that the average woman would consider her insane, or worse, pathetic. But the truth was, she had seen too much in her life, had known too many things she shouldn’t know, to not trust the gift she had. She had seen her sister Charlotte move objects with her mind. She knew the world wasn’t black and white.

Darius was meant to be with her.

“Turn right. It’s the fourth house on the left. The little Victorian with all the lights on.”

“Okay. Cute house. It’s like a mini version of my house.”

“That’s why Bree bought it,” she told him as he pulled into the driveway.

“Oh.” Darius put the car in park and turned to her. “I know you think I ousted your sister, and you’re right, I did. It was wrong of me and I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how important the house was to your family.”

The apology was good to hear. It was even better to hear him admitted what he had done was underhanded. “Thanks, I appreciate you saying that. But why did you want the house so much? I don’t understand.”

He gave a shrug. “I don’t either. But I felt… compelled to buy it when I saw it cross my desk as part of a Cuttersville promo pack the show received from the Chamber of Commerce. They wanted us to film an episode here and when I saw the house again I remembered what you had said to me. I don’t know. It seemed symbolic of my success. But also like a way to have everything, to blend being a businessman with a family. An escape from the big city, from the pressure. Because at the end of the day what I want more than anything is really a family.” He made a face. “Jesus, that sounds so stupid.”

Abby studied his face. He could be so serious, so business-like. It touched her to hear he admit something so honest, so vulnerable. It reassured her and tripped off a new sense of hope. “No. It doesn’t sound stupid at all. That’s why I want the house too.” The porch light went on. “I guess Bree sees us. I should go.”

“Lunch tomorrow? Yes?”

“Yes.” Abby had tucked the mistletoe into her hair and she checked to make sure it was intact. Then she slung her backpack over her shoulder and said, “Call me.”

Then she went up the walkway to her sister’s house, no urge to turn around and wave. She always looked forwards, never backwards, and the future seemed brighter again.

DARIUS
waited for Abby to wave to him at the front door, but she didn’t. She just opened the door and went in, disappearing. He was disappointed. She hadn’t kissed him either.

Of course he hadn’t kissed her either.

He had participated in casual sex before. He’d had one-night stands. Yet he’d never felt particularly awkward with those women. He felt like a gigantic ass around Abby. God, he’d been babbling. It was no matter she’d strolled away without a backwards glance. She thought he was an idiot. She hadn’t sounded particularly enthusiastic about seeing him again either.

Which didn’t make sense given the orgasm she’d had at his hand. Or mouth, as the case may be.

Annoyed, Darius threw his truck in reverse.

What the hell was happening to him?

He liked it and hated it all at the same time.

There was no question he had liked having her suck him. That had been one for the record books.

“Damn, damn,” he muttered to himself. Only ten hours or so until he could see her again.

This time he wanted her in a bed, where he could pump into her properly, until she shattered like glass.

Because of him.

Only him.

“Damn it!” he repeated.

He was in so much trouble here.

He was falling for the crazy girl, just like Trent had warned him.

Chapter Five

ABBY WATCHED DARIUS
over her menu as he studied his. He had picked her up, spoken politely to her sister, and had driven her to the Busy Bee Diner for lunch in total silence. It seemed he intended to go on as he’d started. It didn’t bother her. She didn’t need to fill the air around her with inane chatter. She was comfortable just observing him, taking in the nuances of his mannerisms, the way he constantly smoothed out his eyebrows, and moved his lips slightly when he read. He didn’t have nervous tics, he didn’t jitter around on his chair, or repeatedly clear his throat. Yet she could tell when he was nervous, because he became unfailingly polite. From what she knew of him, he was commanding, confident, used to giving orders. Polite, yes, but not that nervous overcompensation he was displaying today.

“Why are you nervous?” she asked him, setting her menu down. She already knew what she wanted. She’d been coming to the Bee since she was a kid.

Darius gave a short laugh and shook his head. “You don’t hold anything back, do you? Or let anyone have their secret discomfort?”

She shrugged. “I don’t see any point in it. If I make you uncomfortable, why did you ask me to lunch?”

She knew the answer, but she wanted him to say it.

“Because I wanted to see you. It’s unnerving.”

He wasn’t going to elaborate. Leaving it alone for the time being, she asked him, “So did you grow up in Chicago?”

“Yes. My parents worked hard, but were always dead broke. But they have a really happy marriage. I bought them a house in Florida and that’s where they live now.”

“Are you an only child?”

“Yes. A love child.” He grinned. “I was born four months after my parents got married. And they were never able to have another baby, so I was it.” He reached for his iced tea. “They shot in a hole in one with me.”

He was obviously joking, but she had a feeling his parents had told him that, and had probably meant it. He radiated the confidence of a man who had been well-loved.

“What about you, Abby? I know you have two sisters. Are your parents still here?”

“Yes. They’re wildly in love still too. Truthfully, they’ve always been so into each other us kids felt like sometimes like we were intruding on their private love story. I think we’re all grateful to be grown and on our own so they can do their thing, which usually involves ritualistic cleansing in the nude.”

“Is that a joke?”

“I wish it was.” Abby made a face. “Do you know how scarring it is to a girl’s sexuality to have her parents tearing it up like sex was going out of style?”

His eyes darkened. “Your sexuality seems just fine to me.”

Abby felt the heat of his gaze between her thighs. “Thank you.” The diner was cozy, Christmas music cheerfully bouncing around the diner, and gold and silver balls hung up over the bar. There were a dozen tables filled, with seniors, mothers and innocent children. Suddenly the environment felt way too public for how she was feeling.

“I was conceived in a cemetery, according to my parents.”

He gave a startled laugh. “Wow. Not everyone can say that.”

“No one should have to say that,” she told him wryly. “That’s my mom and dad though.”

“It seems you inherited their sense of adventure.”

“Maybe.” She’d always been told she was more of a brat than anything else. She liked the sound of adventurer better.

“Maybe we should go back to my hotel room and see how adventurous you really are,” he said.

With those simple words, her panties flooded with moisture. Her nipples gave their stamp of approval to the plan by pebbling tightly, and she suddenly thought it was way too hot in the Bee.

“Are you sure you can handle me?” she told him.

The corner of his mouth pulled up in a sly, wicked smile. “I know exactly how to handle you. Are you ready to beg?
Again
.”

Of course he had to bring that up. “I only beg if I want to.”

“Whatever.”

“Don’t you want to eat lunch? We haven’t even ordered.”

“The only thing I’m hungry for is you.” He gave her a slow, wolfish smile.

Abby took a sip of her soft drink, biting the end of the straw. “That’s cheesy, but effective.”

“Most women would melt at a line like that. You call me out on it.”

“I’m not most women.”

His eyes darkened. “That I’ve definitely noticed.” He threw a ten down on the table for their drinks. “Let’s go.”

He was silent again in the truck, his hand on her thigh. Abby had been a high-energy kid, always bouncing around, but as a college student, she’d taught herself to take it down a notch, to sit still in body, active in mind. So she just alternated between glancing out the window and glancing at him, remembering what it had felt like to have his tongue lave across her tender flesh. No one had ever come even close to drawing that kind of response from her.

It wasn’t surprising that it was him. What was surprising was how he had managed to unearth layers of her sexuality that she hadn’t even been aware she had.

Going to a motel, especially one that wasn’t even remotely glamorous, should have bothered her, but it didn’t. This was the man she was supposed to be, the man she had waited three years for. If there were any reservations, she was willing to squash them like an unexpected roach in the kitchen.