Claustrophobic Christmas (8 page)

“Dry,” she said quickly.

“Liar.” The green fabric displayed more wet spots than dry ones. “Take off your socks and pants and wrap this around you.”

“I’m fine.”

James raised an eyebrow. “You too numb to get your pants off, Frankenstein? No problem. I’m here to serve.” He reached for her waist. As expected, she batted him away.

“Give me the blanket, pervert.” She draped it over her lower half and shucked the ugly sweat pants. “Where should I put these?”

He draped them across the back seat to dry. Maybe he’d let her put them on after a while. And maybe he’d have her out of her jacket and shirt soon. “Socks.”

She removed those too, fumbling beneath the blanket’s fuzzy plaid surface, and tossed them onto the floor.

“Jacket.”

“It’s not wet.” But she handed it to him anyway and he placed it aside.

He gestured at her legs, bent at the knees. “Give me your feet.”

“No.”

“Let me check them,” he said.

“They definitely have sensation in them.” She unbent her legs so her feet slid along the seat toward him. “No frostbite.”

He whipped aside the blanket and switched on the cab lights. Pruney wrinkles marred the bottoms of her feet. Her skin was as pale as milk and her toenails were painted blue, sort of like a corpse. However, there were no signs of frostbite.

“That’s a weird color for toes. Reminds me of a zombie.” He started chafing her cool, moist skin with the polyester blanket.

“You’re such a flatterer.”

“A freshly dead zombie. If it weren’t for your toes, you could pass.” She had pretty feet. Slender and soft. Her toes were straight and her arches were high. He pushed the blanket up to her knees and held her ankles when she tried to shrink beneath it. “Cut it out. I’m warming you up.”

She stammered something about heater vents as he stroked her silky skin. With what he hoped was a deft touch, he massaged her heels and arches and toes, restoring them to normal body temperature. Next he’d think about how to heat her body up.

After a particularly solid squeeze of her arch, Darcy let out a breathy moan which she tried to cover with a cough. “Excuse me.”

James grinned. In that story with the couple who’d fooled around on a camping trip, it had all started with a foot rub. Did she fantasize about foot rubs?

“Is this good?” he asked.

“Yes, thanks.” Her voice was half an octave higher than normal.

“Do you like it better here?” He rubbed the balls of her feet before shifting to the arches. “Or here?”

“I like both.” She tightened the blanket around her knees.

He did both for a minute before moving to the heel. She moaned again, a little
hmm
of pleasure.

He glanced up and smiled. “What about here?”

Darcy’s head lolled against the window and her eyelids were heavy. Her lips parted like she was about to invite him to come up and see her some time. “I don’t have frostbite.”

“I know.” He could barely keep himself from lunging forward and kissing her. Everywhere. That was one thing he’d never done in this truck, but he figured he could manage.

“You can stop now.” She pushed her wild black hair out of her face, balling it between her head and the window glass. “Are you, um, cold anywhere?”

He shook his head slowly. “Not a bit.”

“Can I have my feet back?”

“Sure.” This time he didn’t stop her when she drew her knees up.

“I can’t imagine living somewhere it snows all the time. No wonder you don’t want to repeat the Alaska trip.”

“Unfortunately, I can imagine it.” He’d spent a long season in upper Canada once. “It’s not my favorite climate.”

“Nor mine.”

Darcy didn’t seem to realize the blanket wasn’t covering her outer thigh, the one nearest the vents. James could distinguish some white, panty-like fabric near her hip. “Is there anything else I can do to make you comfortable?”

“Noooo.” She drew it out like she had something in mind.

So did he. She could hardly be toastier than if he took off his clothes and got under that blanket with her. Body heat.

“What can I do for you, Darcy?” he asked as suggestively as possible without coming across like a sleaze.

She picked up the jelly beans and rattled the box. Her movement shifted the blanket over the tempting glimpse of leg. Damn. “Iced tea?”

“You’ll have to go pee.” He waved at the snow and ice pelting the windshield. “Christ, look at it coming down.” He’d let her put the pants on for a potty break, he supposed.

“I’m going to have to go to the bathroom sooner or later. I might as well enjoy it,” she said with a shrug. “Sweet or unsweet?”

“What do you take me for, darlin’, a Yankee?” he said with a laugh. “It’s sweet tea.”

“Any lemon in it?”

“Nope.” He got the thermos out and poured tea into his travel mug while she arranged the tray of jelly beans between them. She sat cross-legged, facing him, and poked around in the jumble of candy. “They’re out of order.”

“So we’ll be surprised.”

“I don’t like surprises,” she said.

“I wouldn’t have guessed that. That’s interesting.” Along with the claustrophobia, that would also explain her reaction when he’d shown up at her office. To him it was a logical assumption they’d spend Christmas together. To her, it was a surprise. Weird.

“Is it?” She held up a yellow bean to the cab light.

“Well, yeah. I thought everybody liked surprises.”

“Surprise, surprise,” she said with a little smirk. “I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. The control thing, I guess. Staying on top of my environment.” She put the bean in her mouth, chewed, and pulled a face. “I hate lemon.”

“Wash it down.” He handed her his tea mug.

She blinked at him like that was a surprise too. “This is your cup.”

“So?”

She opened her mouth to respond, and he stretched across the seat to put a red candy between her lips. “Cherry.”

Her lips pursed. “Cinnamon.”

“Hate that too?” He could smell it in the air, on her breath. She’d taste spicy if he kissed her right now.

She chewed and swallowed. “Give me the cup.”

“One more.” He held up another red and she leaned out of his reach. He scooched to the middle of the bench seat and set the candy box in his lap. “It’s not lemon.”

“It’s probably another—” she started to say and he raised the candy to her mouth. Her lashes flickered down as she glanced at his hand. He rubbed the jelly bean across her bottom lip.

“Candy’s good for you. Gives you strong teeth and bones. Open up.”

Her warm breath blew across his fingers. She slowly complied. He slid it past her teeth, resisting the urge to grab her by all that hair and drag her into his lap.

“What flavor is it?” he asked.

She bit down, licked her lips. “Cinnamon.”

“Not a surprise, then,” he pointed out. “Does that work for you?”

“I don’t hate it.” She finally raised her eyes to his. “Your turn.”

“Goody.” He watched as she sorted through colors. Her head shadowed her actions, blocking the overhead light, until she produced a marbled brown one.

“Perfect.”

James eyed the candy dubiously. He didn’t trust Darcy’s wide smile. “Hold on a minute. Is that ass flavor or something?”

“They don’t make ass flavor. Kids eat this stuff.”

“Hot butt?”

She snorted and picked up a green one too. “Let’s make this more exciting.”

“By feeding me the green ones?” He waggled his eyebrows. “That’s my kind of excitement.”

She crossed her eyes at him and popped the candies into his mouth. He made a show of being appalled as the flavors of coffee and something limey combined.

“Ass flavor,” he confirmed.

Darcy laughed. Her knees bumped his leg as she inspected the candy. “Now these two.”

White and black. Coconut and licorice. James screwed up his face. “Ack.”

Giggling, Darcy dug through the box. She shoved her glasses up her nose as the candies clacked together. Before she settled on more, James clicked out the cab light.

“I can’t see,” she complained.

“It’s safer for me that way.” He took a long swallow of iced tea. The sweetness washed away the licorice.

“If that’s how you want to play it.” She waved a jelly bean in the near-dark. Her fingers bumped his cheek. When she tried to put it in his mouth, he grabbed her hand.

Did she want to play? “What are you feeding me this time?”

“I have no idea,” she said. “They all look the same in the dark.”

“That’s what she said,” James agreed.

“You’re awful.” She tugged her hand loose and fumbled near his chin. He closed his lips over the jelly bean and—not at all accidentally—her finger. He clamped his teeth down lightly and sucked.

She gasped, a quick inhale. He knew she was surprised, knew she said she didn’t like surprises, but she took her time freeing herself.

She liked that.

He grasped her wrist so she couldn’t get away. When she tugged, he didn’t release her, and she inhaled again.

She liked that too.

He licked her finger, tasting sugar and skin.

“Darcy flavor,” he said. “My favorite.”

Trembling, she touched his cheek. One fingertip was damp from his mouth. His stubble skritched as she ran her fingers along his jaw line. Her thumb rubbed his lips in a blatant caress. He angled his face into her hand and let his lips brush her palm in a kiss.

“James, we shouldn’t.”

“I disagree.”

Amber light flashed on her lenses. He took her glasses off, giving her a chance to protest.

She didn’t.

He set the spectacles on the dash and groped for another piece of candy, which he held next to her mouth. She accepted it, closing her lips on his finger. The hot slickness of her tongue stroked him long enough to for him to get a hard- on, which took about a millisecond.

As he’d wanted to do for a while now, James threaded his fingers into her hair and made a fist. She was not getting away from him.

Darcy whimpered.

To hell with convincing her to make the first move. When he dragged her across the seat into his lap, jelly beans flew everywhere.

Chapter Seven

Their lips met in a hard, hot kiss, their bodies in a tangle of arms and blanket. James had one hand in her hair, the other gripping her sweatshirt. Darcy parted her lips. When his tongue swept into her mouth, she practically clawed him as she tried to get closer.

She’d barely been able to get the idea of kissing him out of her head long enough to describe her claustrophobia. With his touch, her desire returned threefold.

When he grabbed her butt, nothing separating his skin from hers but her cotton underpants, her desire increased to tenfold. She slid her outside leg around his hips, bringing their bodies flush. He’d shown distinct signs of being unfazed by her claustrophobia. What if he could deal with it in its entirety? Wasn’t this worth the risk? Wasn’t he worth the risk?

His cock strained against his jeans, pressing her intimately. Or it would if there weren’t an itchy polyester blanket wadded between them.

“God, I want you so much,” he whispered. He pulled her hair, bending her back, and sucked her neck. His teeth scraped her skin.

Darcy hung onto his shoulders, her spine arched. He squeezed her ass. His fingertips nearly reached her pussy, his hand was so big. She shoved her pelvis against him, stymied by the damned blanket. She wanted to feel more of him. All of him.

James lowered his head and nuzzled her breast through the sweatshirt. With more pressure than she expected, he bit her nipple. Pleasure jolted through her, landing between her legs. Darcy inhaled, exhaled. This was going so fast she could barely breathe, but in a good way. A very, very good way.

His grip on her hair loosened. Darcy straightened like a spring. She threw herself against him forcefully enough that he slammed into the steering wheel.

The horn tooted.

“Crap.” James struggled with her, with the blanket. He twisted them around somehow. Darcy found herself flying through the air and landing on her back. The top of her head conked the driver’s side door.

“Ow!”

Before she got her bearings, James was on top of her, his weight pushing her into the leather. His hips, his rough denim jeans, abraded her bare thighs. His cock was definitely hard, definitely in the right spot.

Just like she’d fantasized.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Better than okay.” Darcy widened her thighs, her knees bent.

“Is this going to crowd you too much?”

She wasn’t thinking about that. She refused to think about that. So she kissed him.

His lips brushed hers, this time not as frantic. The kisses turned sweet and wet as their tongues met. She whispered his name. He laughed and kissed her some more. And more.

Soon kissing wasn’t enough. She maneuvered her arm past the steering wheel and down his back, feeling his muscles. He rolled his hips against her and she answered by slipping her hand under his shirt.

His skin was warm and smooth. His muscles bunched as he slid one leg onto the floor. This pushed her outer thigh higher. Wider. It felt so tremendous to have him against her. Darcy undulated her hips and her knee banged the gear shaft.

A horrible vision bounced through her head. With some effort she ended the kiss. “Have you got the parking break on?”

“Why, do you think this is gonna get rowdy?” His teeth glinted in the dark. He slid a hand down her thigh, stopping at her panties. But just barely.

“James,” she chided. She didn’t want to stop, but she didn’t want them to roll into another car. That wouldn’t be fun to explain to the other driver or the insurance company.

He stretched an arm into the floor, feeling around. “We’re secure. Where were we?”

“Here.” She tilted her head up and kissed him. Then she tightened her thighs around his hips. “And here.”

James rubbed her leg, up and down, always stopping at the elastic of her underwear. She kissed him, willing him to touch her, but he didn’t. Her pussy clenched and she shifted restlessly beneath him.

“So do you?” he asked. He traced the elastic of her underwear, in the sensitive crevice of her leg and her pelvis.