You Had Me At Christmas: A Holiday Anthology(10)
“Oh my God, that was close.” With one hand, she crammed her breasts into the bodice, with the other she tugged at her shapewear.
Jared moved to help her. “Ditch those things. I never want to see them again.”
She smacked his hands away and kept hauling. “So don’t buy me dresses that highlight my flaws and then take me to places where being a size twelve feels like a baby elephant.”
“When the hell did you start caring about this stuff?” he said, bewildered.
“About the same time you became a sex symbol. We live in a shallow world now.” These damn pants wouldn’t come up any higher. She fumbled on the ground for her bag. “Let’s get to the car.”
Feeling like a penguin, she waddled down the alley then stopped, half laughing, on the verge of tears. “Okay, you can help me.”
He folded his arms and narrowed his eyes, a gangster in his black leather coat. “So you’re at my mercy, huh?”
“Quit with the kidding. I just need to haul them up enough to walk.”
“I have a way better idea.” He bent, caught her around the waist, and hoisted her over his shoulder.
She gasped and clutched at her bag. “What are you doing?”
“Taking care of the situation.” He started walking out of the alley. “Point me toward your car.”
“Jared, are you crazy?” She pressed her hands on his ass, lifting herself to check for passersby.
He slapped her butt. “And stop bringing up your husband.”
“Ha,” she said. “Didn’t feel it.”
He slapped again, harder. “Ow. At least my butt’s warm now.” Hearing voices, she glanced up and saw people leaving the bar. Oh, hell. “The car’s at number twenty-eight, head left.” As he swung in the correct direction, the couple caught sight of them and their voices stopped abruptly. Hiding her face, Kayla gave them a thumbs-up to show she was okay.
Jared stopped by her SUV. “Unlock the car, Betty.”
Upside down, she dug in her coat pocket then pressed the remote, and heard an answering beep. Patted her date’s butt. “Well, thanks for an eventful evening, Bob, but my husband is going to need a ride home.”
“Your husband can wait.”
Opening the door, he unlatched the kids’ car seats and dropped them in the front, then unloaded her in the back seat. Climbing in beside her, he slammed the door shut and locked it.
She said innocently, “Is this to help me with my pants?”
“Sure, Betty, I’m all about helping.” His hand slipped under her dress to the gap between her shapewear and body. His hands were cold on her inner thighs, but that wasn’t why she shivered.
“Never wear these again, promise me,” he said.
“That’s not practical—” He caught her mouth with his, stopping her mid-answer while his fingers moved between her legs, parting and stroking.
“You’re wet,” he whispered. “Seems a shame not to take advantage while you’re trapped like this.”
“I’m not trapped.” She tried to move her legs, but the bunched latex around her upper thighs wouldn’t give.
He chuckled, an evil laugh. Then the sound of approaching voices made her catch his wrist.
She caught a shadowy glimpse of white teeth as he grinned, he used his weight to push her to a lying position. She swallowed a whimper as his clever fingers continued to do wicked things between her legs while two couples stood three cars away, discussing the baby back ribs and chocolate cream pie and saying, “We must do this again.”
“Oh yeah,” he breathed in her ear. “We really must do this again.”
Frustration and passion, the combination was too familiar. She banged the back of her head against the seat. “This isn’t going to work with people so close.”
“Remember when we started dating and the only penetration was with fingers?” He played as he spoke.
Oh God. She pressed into his hand, smelling the leather of his jacket, feeling the weight of his body heavy on hers, and remembered all the bad boys who’d tried to talk her into the back seat at drive-ins. Remembered having to make the first move on Jared, who’d been respectful and shy.
He wasn’t shy now, one hand up her dress, the other tangled in her hair while he whispered dirty things in her ear. Pleasure built.
“Stop fighting this…me. Us. I miss you, I love you. Be mine, baby.”
With a gasp, she came so hard he had to block her cry with his kiss.
The release was incredible. Every bone, every muscle seemed to melt and re-fuse. How long since she’d last felt this spine-tingling satisfaction? She wouldn’t call servicing the rock star Jared had become on tour, intimacy. And since he’d been home, she’d felt such pressure to pretend they were okay now, that she’d given herself over to his service in another, more insidious way—proving she was still the best lay he’d ever have and selling herself short in the process.
*
Kayla started to cry. He only remembered it happening maybe five times in their relationship after emotionally-charged sex. Their wedding night, the first time they’d made love after Maddie’s birth, the night Jared won a place in Rage. When he’d asked her why, she always sobbed, “I just love you so much.”
She sobbed the words again now and he suffered because tonight her emotion felt like something he’d forced from her, rather than something she’d offered freely. He’d wanted things real between them; he hadn’t wanted to make her feel raw.