Holiday Hearts (5 page)

“So hot,” he murmured. “So sweet.”

Keysa’s hips rotated as she settled on top of him, taking him in deep. “Yes,” she whispered.

His hands griped her hips, guiding her into a slow ride that seemed to caress every nerve ending from his head to his toes.

With ever swerve and lift of her hips Keysa felt sexy and powerful. Her swollen breasts heaved and tingled as she lifted the hem of the shirt and pulled it over her head. His hands instantly came up to grab her breasts, his thumbs tweaking her nipples. She sighed, dragging her tongue over her lower lips. His touch felt good, the sound of his voice whispering her name was blissful.  The feel of him buried deep inside her was unspeakable.

Her mind was free of everything and everyone except Ian and this moment. Somewhere in the distance she saw the glimmer of lights on a Christmas tree and rays of moonlight cast about the room. But her focus was on this man and this driving need to take everything he was offering her.

When he sat up, wrapping his arms around her waist to keep her astride him. Her eyes opened and locked on his. He was looking at her as if she were the only person in the world, not just in the room. And when his lips descended on hers again, she felt as if it was just the two of them—just her and Ian—wrapped in this beautiful dream and this night of passion.

She locked her legs behind his back and gasped when he stood holding her while keeping himself still buried inside of her. Lowering her to the floor he drove into her mercilessly, soliciting more moans from her as her moist center sucked his entire length inside.

His head lowered and his tongue found her puckered nipples. Keysa grabbed the back of his head, holding him in place, feeling her thighs clench with ever stroke of his tongue over her heated flesh. When his hand slipped between them, his fingers finding the tightened bud of her center and stroked it lovingly until Keysa exploded.

Every nerve in her body was on end as pleasure soared through every pore. His name came in a heated whispered through clenched teeth.

“Perfect,” was his hushed reply. “Dammit, you’re perfect!”

He lifted her legs to rest on his shoulders and moved with quick heated strokes inside her until he was gasping and moaning his own release.

When Keysa’s legs finally ceased shaking and her pleasure-dazed mind could think past the monumental orgasm she’d just achieved, she wrapped her arms around Ian once more.

“I’m never letting you go now,” he said rolling over and pulling her with him. “You’re the best Christmas present I could have ever asked for.”

SIX

Keysa rolled over onto her back and stretched. She hadn’t slept so well in weeks with work and the stress of the holidays riding her. Opening her eyes slowly she remembered she wasn’t in her own bed and wondered if that could have played a part in how well she’d slept. Inhaling deeply she smelled coffee and bacon and sighed.

Ian was cooking breakfast.

Pressing her palms over her face she replayed the events of the night before. She’d done exactly what she’d been trying to avoid with Ian for months. The decision to stop going out with him had been quick, and without much thought on her part. All she’d needed to know was that she really liked Ian Sanchez, and could see herself falling for him fast. Those facts alone made it impossible to keep seeing him.

What if he broke her heart? What if, like her father, one day decided he wanted someone else?

It was crazy and it probably sounded insecure, but that was her fear. Ending up lonely and bitter like her mother was not something Keysa ever wanted to consider. Choosing to be alone was a lot different than being lonely in her book.

Now, she was afraid she’d botched things up.

Getting out of the bed she walked into the bathroom as silently as she could, taking her clothes with her. After a quick shower Keysa felt like she could face Ian even though she had no idea how she was going to backtrack after their night of lovemaking.

He stood in front of the stainless steel oven, his broad back to her when Keysa entered the kitchen. For a minute she allowed herself to look at him, to really look at this man who’d been taunting her with intimate thoughts for months. He was tall—his body finely muscled and sculpted. In addition to his good looks, he was smart and knew marketing as well as she did, if not better. He’d used his connections to move up in the company, but there was no doubt he’d earned his position and was a valuable asset to Maser Marketing.

From all the pictures on the mantel and the tone of his voice when he’d talked about them, Keysa would say he loved and was devoted to his family.

Once upon a time family had meant everything to her, and to some extent it still did. Secretly she’d thought of spending holidays or other special times with the Donovan side of her family. She’d read about all of them and wished once more that her parents hadn’t broken up. Maybe her life would have been different. Then again, there wasn’t really anything else she wanted to change about her life, besides her parents’ divorce. She loved her job, and loved her house. And for a brief moment, she thought, she could fall in love with this man.

“Good morning,” she said, standing there watching him until she felt like some kind of stalker.

He looked over his shoulder, his green eyes almost twinkling as he smiled. “Mornin,’ Sleepyhead. Sit down. Breakfast is just about ready.”

He’d nodded towards the island in the middle of the kitchen where he’d already set two plates, glasses of orange juice and empty coffee mugs. It looked as if he’d thought of everything, Keysa noticed with slight agitation. He really didn’t have to go to all the trouble, but she refused to be rude. Instead she picked up the two mugs and walked toward the coffee pot that had just finished percolating. Pouring them both a cup she tried for polite conversation.

“Do you like to cook?”

“Strange for a man, huh?” he said in that tone that she was quickly coming to realize was his normal happy demeanor.

In the time she’d known him, Ian had never seemed bothered by anything. That was probably one of the things that annoyed her about him.  She was convinced that nobody’s life could be that perfect.

“My Mom’s a great cook. She taught all of us at a young age not to be afraid of the kitchen.”

“She sounds like a really good mother,” Keysa said thoughtfully. “How many of you are there?”

“Eight in total—four girls, four boys. My Dad said it was a good thing the RioGrande produced a string of hit movies to feed the small army he had at home.”

He always seemed to talk about his family with such fondness.

“You want lots of kids don’t you?” she asked. The question seemed to come out of nowhere.

He turned off the stove and moved to the kitchen island with plates of crisply fried bacon and fluffy eggs.

“Does that scare you?” he asked, with a slight grin. “I mean, you don’t look like you want a lot of kids.”

She followed him to the island and put a mug in front of him and one in front of her plate before sitting. “Actually, I’ve always wanted a big family.” Since they’d made love and they were having this conversation, she figured she could tell the truth about this one thing, especially since she’d never told anyone else before.

“Really. Then that’s just perfect.”

He reached for her hands, clasping her fingers in his as he said a quick blessing over the food.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said smiling at her again.

“I have to get going soon,” she replied and watched a flicker of annoyance come and go in his eyes. “I love scrambled eggs,” she said to keep the mood light.

“I cook them with a little something special. Try them and see if you like it.”

She forked eggs onto her plate and took one slice of bacon. She took a bite of eggs and noticed they tasted different, but good. “What’d you put in them?” she asked him when she’d finished.

He smiled and took a sip of coffee. “Mmmm, just how I like it with lots of sugar. You know me too well,” he told her with a wink of the eye. “Sprinkle a little Adobo seasoning on scrambled eggs and it really perks up the flavor.”

“Adobo?”

“It’s a seasoning used a lot in Spanish recipes. Try it sometime. It works with just about anything.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Keysa said taking another forkful of eggs.

When they’d finished breakfast and all the dishes were loaded into the dishwasher Keysa was about to tell Ian she had to leave. But he took her hand and said, “I’ve got something for you.”

She was being led into the living room before she could say a word.

Keysa refused to look at the sofa with memories of the previous night still fresh on her mind.  Her cheeks heated at the thought. But Ian moved past the sofa towards the huge Christmas tree in the corner of the room. He’d opened the blinds so early morning light coupled with a view of the downtown Detroit skyline greeted them. The lights on the tree had been turned off but it still sparkled and boasted a cheerful holiday air with all its ornaments and sparkling tinsel.

Ian led her hand to a small black velvet box. Keysa heart did a somersault in her chest and her hands instantly began to sweat.

“What’s this?” she asked nervously.

“I bought this not long after I met you. And after each one of our dates I would come home and simply stare at it. I knew it was for you and only you.”

“Why didn’t you give it to me before?” Keysa hoped it wasn’t what she thought it was. Hoped and prayed.

He shrugged. “I wanted to wait until the time was right.”

“And you think just because of what happened last night that now the time is right?” Keysa couldn’t help but be skeptical. It just didn’t make sense to her, or maybe it was that she didn’t want it to make sense.

“I think that because of last night, it’s time to really think about this gift and what it will mean to both of us,” he said in a serious voice.

Keysa looked down at the box Ian held in the palm of his hand. He hadn’t really offered it to her. He just held it in his hand. She didn’t want to know what was in the box. Didn’t want to confirm her suspicions or burst his bubble by refusing his gift.

Still, it was a gift. And he’d had it under his Christmas tree, tied with a small red bow. It brought out certain emotions in her, which made her reach for it.

Ian watched as she slid the bow off the box and opened it. Her reaction was completely unexpected.

“What the hell?” she asked, shocked. “It’s empty.”

Ian nodded. “I told you I wanted to wait until the time was absolutely right.”

Snapping the box closed Keysa dropped it back into his hand. “Then why even go through all this?” she said even more agitated than she was before.

“Because I wanted to see where your head was.”

“What? I don’t have time for this, Ian.” She turned and was about to walk away when he grabbed her arms, pulling her close to him.

“I want to be with you, Keysa Donovan. I want to build a life with you, to share everything with you, good times and bad. But I won’t fight with a memory.”

“I haven’t asked you to do anything for me,” was her tight reply.

“No. You haven’t. But that’s what you do when you care about someone. You push them when they need to be pushed. You hold them when they need to be held. And you love them the way they need to be loved.”

“Or you back off when they tell you that’s what they want,” she quipped.

“Then tell me that’s what you want,” he said, daring her.

Keysa pulled away from him. “I told you I don’t have time for this. I have to get home and change and get to work.”

Ian nodded. “Because work is the most important thing in your life,” he continued. “Because that’s the only place where you feel like you have some control. I’ve got news for you, Keysa—love, sharing and caring is not about control. It’s about trust. At some point, if you want any of those things in your life you have to trust someone. Trust yourself.”

“Thank you for the psychotherapy session, but I’ll be going now.” Keysa walked away and to her surprise Ian let her.

Standing in front of his building she was prepared to hail herself a cab when one drove up as if on command. Stepping inside she closed her eyes for a second then prepared to rattle off her address, but the music playing on the radio made her stop.

It was that Nat King Cole song again.

The cab driver pulled away from the curb, driving through Detroit’s morning traffic on his way to the suburbs. Keysa leaned back against the seat, listening to the lyrics of the song and became lulled by its classic melody.

The next thought came to her quickly and before she could re-think her decision she was giving the driver instructions to take her to her mother’s apartment. If he hurried she’d have time to speak to her mother before she left for work. Even though Ian wasn’t on her favorite person’s list right now, some of what he’d said last night was undeniably true. Her mother’s life should not dictate hers. Why shouldn’t she spend the holidays with her father? At least his family was willing to really celebrate the holiday instead of the cool dinner and conversation she and her mother usually shared at a restaurant on Christmas Eve, and the brief phone call on Christmas Day. Neither of them had made any real plans for the holiday since Keysa had become an adult. Watching old movies with Ian last night, seeing his tree all lit up and the gifts lined beneath had brought home a loss Keysa was sick and tired of living with.