The Matchmaker's Mistletoe Mission Read online

  His cock lurched against her thigh, and he rubbed against her.

  He smoothed his hands down her back, his palms absorbing the silken softness of her skin. He almost felt bad about touching her considering how work-roughened his hands were, but she didn’t complain as he continued to stroke her body, cupping the globes of her ass and drawing her against his erection.

  He put his mouth on one of her nipples to suck.

  She gasped and grabbed on to his hair, murmuring words like “yes” and “right there” and “more.”

  Some of his favorite sex words.

  * * *

  * * *

  Alice wasn’t sure, but she might have a death grip on Clay’s hair. His mouth on her breasts made her want to dive inside of him, to make these feelings he evoked go on forever.

  When he lifted his head, he moved up to kiss her. She desperately enjoyed his mouth. He had full lips, and he used them well, rubbing them slowly and deliberately across hers as he sucked her tongue into his mouth.

  Her sex quivered in response, and she wrapped her leg around his hip to rub against his cock.

  He pulled his mouth from her. “Eager?”

  “You have no idea. I might have been focusing so much on making my clients happy that I’ve been neglecting my sex life.”

  “We’ll fix that tonight.” He rubbed his fingertips over her nipple, causing delicious sparks to shoot throughout her nerve endings. “Whatever you need, Alice, I’ll give you.”

  “What I need is a couple more orgasms.”

  He nipped at her lips, using his teeth to pull at her bottom lip, then kissed her jaw. “Or three. Or four.”

  She might hold him to that.

  He slid his hand between her breasts, then down over her rib cage, slowly mapping her body. His hands were calloused, and the roughness of his fingertips created the perfect amount of friction.

  And when he got to her lower belly, he paused, making her breathing increase because she was waiting, anticipating his touch.

  Then he slid his hand down to cup her sex. His hand was warm and perfect as he began to move his fingers over her vulva, circling her clit, getting to know her body.

  “Mmm,” she said, squirming against his hand. “That feels good.”

  He kept his movements slow and easy at first, learning by her responses where she liked to be touched. And when he hit a good spot, she let him know verbally and physically.

  She liked that he was taking his time, neither of them as anxious as the first time.

  Though the speed of their first coupling had been more her doing than his.

  She loved the way he touched her, the easy way he had of exploring, of listening to her when she told him which spots felt the best so he could adjust his movements.

  And when he scooted down her body and replaced his hand with his mouth, she arched her hips off the bed. Because where he was amazing with his hands, he was out of this world with his mouth, rocketing her right to the edge with his oh-so-talented tongue. He had spent all that time learning just where to touch her, and then had taken that knowledge to make her hover, then fall into a shuddering climax that left her shaking.

  He didn’t give her time to come down from her orgasm. He suited up with a condom, spread her legs and held on to her thighs, kneeling between them to slide into her while she was still spasming from that incredible orgasm he’d given her.

  He grasped her hips to gather her close and began to move.

  “Oh” was all she could manage as she wrapped her legs around him and dug her heels into his butt, using her hands to touch him in as many places as she could while he took her mouth in a deep, soulful kiss that nearly shattered her.

  She’d never been this connected to a man before, so deeply embedded in every part of him as he moved inside of her. He moved deliberately, slowly, as if he wanted her to know exactly who it was that was giving her this much pleasure.

  As if she had any doubts. She swiped her fingers across Clay’s sweat-soaked brow, let her hands roam freely over the corded muscles of his triceps, felt the power rippling there. She let that power consume her, take her right over the edge into another mind ripping orgasm that left her shaking yet again.

  Only he wasn’t finished. He slowed, letting her enjoy every delicious pulse, and then drew her right into that ecstasy again, only this time he went with her, and she rode that wave that seemingly went on and on until they both collapsed to the mattress in a heap of exhaustion.

  Clay rolled to the side but took her with him as if he didn’t want to let her go. She laid her palm on his chest, feeling the rapid pulse of his heartbeat. When it slowed, he smiled at her.

  “I like a little exercise before dinner,” he said. “But damn.”

  Her lips curved. “And you’re sweaty.”

  He swept her hair away from her face. “So are you. Want to wash off with me?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  He helped her out of bed, and she got a chance to experience his amazing shower. He washed her back and she let the rainfall showerhead pour steamy hot water over her head. Of course, her makeup washed away as well, but she didn’t care. It felt wonderful, as did Clay’s hands all over her body. And his mouth on her when he knelt on the shower floor and brought her yet to another blistering climax. She returned the favor by dropping to her knees and taking him into her mouth, tasting him, sucking him, stroking him until he groaned and exploded in her mouth, sparking her desire all over again.

  Would she ever get enough of him? She didn’t think so.

  He lifted her. “You make me weak.”

  She kissed him. “You’re the strongest man I’ve ever known.”

  They rinsed and got out of the shower, and she was grateful for whatever water heater he had because she was certain they’d spent an hour in that shower. But she was toasty warm, and Clay had nice, oversized thick towels. He wrapped her in one and gave her another to dry off her hair. She used a hairbrush from her purse to pull out the tangles, and then she got dressed.

  At least partially dressed. She slipped on her panties, and Clay handed her one of his thick sweatshirts, which was so long on her that it fell to her thighs. Then she put her socks on. She was plenty warm.

  “I like the way you look in my clothes,” he said, eyeing her in that way she was quickly recognizing as an I Want to Have Sex with You kind of look.

  She liked him looking at her that way. But she’d worked up an appetite—for food, this time.

  “How about we actually eat dinner, then we can talk about that look you just gave me?”

  He quirked a smile. “Deal.”

  They went into the kitchen to reheat dinner. Homer dragged himself off his dog bed and came over to get some love. Alice bent down to give him copious pets. When he whined, she let him out the front door.

  “He’ll come back, right?”

  Clay nodded. “He’ll bark at the door when he wants back inside.”

  Clay served up citrus salmon, almond-and-citrus rice and roasted brussels sprouts. They ate at the kitchen island, and she felt cozy and relaxed and utterly at home here.

  “It’s delicious,” she said, washing the excellent food down with a glass of water.

  “It would have tasted better fresh.”

  She looked up at him. “Regrets?”

  He rubbed his hand over her thigh. “You versus food? Hell no. I’ll choose you every time.”

  His answer made her skin tingle. She lifted her foot and teased it along his thigh. While he ate, he rubbed her foot.

  She could get used to a life like this. Making dinner. Sex. Eating dinner. Him rubbing her foot. It was . . .

  Not real. Not her life. She lived in LA and Clay lived here, and he didn’t belong to her. This was a one-night fantasy. A wonderful, delicious, sex-fueled fantasy. But it was only for one
night.

  And she wouldn’t let herself forget it.

  She heard a bark at the door.

  “I’ll get him,” Clay said.

  “Oh, no. Let me.”

  His lips curved. “Sure.”

  She grabbed the towel by the door, and when she opened it, Homer came in, his dark nose covered in snow. She bent down to dry him off.

  “Were you chasing rabbits in the snow, Homer? Were you?”

  The dog’s furiously wagging tail told her the answer was yes.

  “You’re just the cutest little boy I’ve ever met. Yes, you are.”

  “He loves you already, you know,” Clay said, watching her from his spot on the bar stool.

  She wrapped her arms around the wet dog. “The feeling is mutual.”

  Homer jogged away to get some water, and Alice went back to eating.

  After she finished her meal, she swiveled around on the bar stool to soak in the beauty of his place.

  “You need a tall tree in that corner, by the window,” she said.

  “What kind of tree?”

  “A Christmas tree, of course. Filled with bright white lights and beautiful big bulbs and ornaments from your childhood and ones that make new memories for you.”

  He’d finished his plate, so he pushed it aside. “Uh-huh. There’s a tree at my parents’ house.”

  “But that’s not where you live. You live here, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Don’t you think you should start making some memories of your own here? Put up some Christmas stuff that makes it feel even more like your home?”

  He shrugged. “I never really thought about it.”

  “Huh.” She took a swallow of water.

  “What would you do?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “How would you decorate my house? If you lived here?”

  She slanted a smile at him. “Oh, that’s a dangerous question. I love decorating for Christmas.”

  “Yeah? What does your place look like?”

  “I have a small condo, so a small fake tree. But it’s filled with lights and ornaments. And I have garland on my kitchen island, and green-and-red pillows on my couch, along with Christmas blankets and stockings and snowmen and . . . well, you get the idea.”

  He shook his head. “Yeah. Like Christmas threw up all over your condo.”

  She laughed. “It’s not like that at all. It’s very tasteful. Here, let me show you.”

  She pulled up photos from her social media account and handed her phone to him.

  He scrolled through and nodded. “Okay, it’s actually not too bad.”

  “I told you.”

  “So how would you decorate my place?”

  “I already told you about the tree. You have high ceilings in here so you could easily do a seven- or eight-foot tree. Lots of lights and trimmings on the tree. Big balls.”

  He laughed.

  “Ornaments.” She rolled her eyes. “Big ornaments to show off the tree. And you’d want some of your childhood ornaments on there, if your mom wouldn’t mind giving up a few.”

  “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

  “You have an amazing mantel, so you could light it up, maybe put a sign above it welcoming people or spreading the holiday love. Maybe a Noel or Welcome Christmas or something.”

  She walked across the room. “This wall needs some holiday love, like some hanging snowflakes or a snowman. Maybe a snowman with a cowboy hat on, because it has to have your touch.”

  He cracked a smile. “You’ve got it bad for snowmen, don’t you?”

  She pivoted and waggled her brows. “You have no idea.”

  “So if I go outside and roll around in the snow, then stick a carrot in my mouth, you’ll want to jump me?”

  She laughed. “I want to jump you all the time, so I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

  He gave her a hot look that made her want to climb him like a rock wall. “Good to know.”

  “Anyway, I wouldn’t want to overdo it in here. You’re a simple guy.”

  “Oh, thanks.”

  “It wasn’t an insult. You’re not fussy. It’s the way you decorate. Nothing overdone. You’re not screaming that you’ve got a great big house, or trying to make any kind of statement. Your place is simple yet elegant.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. But you definitely need your house outlined in lights. It’s just made to showcase the beauty of the season.”

  “Obviously.”

  She went over to him and scraped a nail across his beard stubble. “You’re making fun of me.”

  He slid off the bar stool and grabbed her butt. “No, I was actually interested in how you’d decorate my place. I like your ideas. And there’s still time before Christmas.”

  “True.”

  It was too bad she wouldn’t be here to see it if and when he did. She could already envision it, and it would be magnificent.

  They cleaned up the plates and the kitchen. Clay went outside and grabbed several pieces of wood and started a fire. Soon it was hot and crackling, and they sat on the sofa in front of it.

  “So the wedding is Saturday?”

  She nodded.

  “When does your best friend arrive?”

  “She’ll be flying in Thursday, along with the rest of the wedding party and the families. The rehearsal is Friday night. Then the wedding on Saturday.”

  “When do you leave?”

  Her stomach tightened at the question. “Sunday.”

  He smoothed his hand down her back, his fingers straying underneath the sweatshirt, making her feel warm and tingly all over. She wished their time together wouldn’t be ending so soon.

  “Stay here with me tonight, Alice.”

  She shouldn’t. She should go back to the Bellinis’ and . . .

  Do what, exactly? Feel sad that she wasn’t in Clay’s bed, enjoying every second she could with him? What point would that prove? She already knew she was leaving on Sunday, and that they had a limited amount of time together. Shouldn’t she have fun while she could?

  “Yes. I need to let the Bellinis know I won’t be back tonight so they don’t worry.”

  “Okay.”

  She grabbed her phone to send a text message to Erin.

  Staying over at Clay’s tonight.

  It was funny that she hadn’t hesitated for one second before sending the message.

  Erin responded right away.

  Okay. Have fun!

  Odd that Erin hadn’t appeared the least bit shocked, either. Had her attraction to Clay been that obvious?

  She tossed her phone on the table, deciding tonight wasn’t the time to overanalyze anything. She only had a short while to be with Clay, and she intended to make the most of it.

  She threw her legs over his lap. “Okay, I’m yours for the night. What do you intend to do with me?”

  “I thought we’d watch some hockey on TV.”

  “What?”

  He laughed and scooped her up in his arms, leveling his gaze on her. “What do you think I’m going to do with you? I’m going to get you naked, learn every inch of you with my hands and my mouth, and make love to you all night long until you’re so damn tired you beg me to stop.”

  As he walked down the hall with her in arms, she said, “I liked every part of that except the part where you said I’d beg you to stop. I intend to keep you up all night long using your body for mind-blowing sex, until you can’t get it up anymore.”

  He laid her on the bed and climbed above her. “Challenge accepted.”

  She looked forward to a very long night.

  Chapter Twelve

  Clay cradled a steaming-hot mug of coffee in his hands and stared down at the beautiful naked woman in h
is bed.

  Alice slept on her stomach, dark brown her hair a wild, tangled mess that kind of resembled a bird’s nest. She’d tossed off half the covers, so he got a tempting view of one leg, one sexy thigh and one very cute foot.

  And despite her damn near killing him with sex last night, that one exposed leg made his dick twitch.

  He shook his head and crouched down in front of her, waving the coffee cup back and forth.

  She wrinkled her nose and swept some hair away from her face.

  “Miff faff foffey?”

  He crooked a smile. “Say that again?”

  She blinked and raised her head off the mattress. “Is that coffee?”

  “Yup.”

  She rolled over and scooted up against the headboard. “Gimme.”

  He liked that she didn’t care that she was naked, or that the covers had fallen to her waist, baring her incredible breasts to his gaze. He sat on the edge of the mattress and handed the cup to her.

  She sipped. Once. Twice. “Mmm. Life.”

  “I thought you might need it, seeing as how I won our bet last night.”

  She lifted one eye open and used it to glare at him. “You lie. You passed out first.”

  “I beg to differ. You fell off of me after that last round and crashed. Hard.”

  After her fourth sip of coffee she managed to wrangle both eyes open. “I remember it much differently, mister.”

  “I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree.”

  Homer lumbered into the bedroom and poked his head under Alice’s hand.

  “Hey, baby boy. Good morning.” She rubbed his head and Homer thumped his tail. “Who’s a good boy, huh? Who’s a good boy?”

  Homer whimpered and wagged his tail at Alice’s baby talk.

  “You’ll spoil him.”