Filthy Scrooge Page 9

  “You know I do.”

  “Why do you think I keep saying it?” I asked and rolled her over onto her back again and stroked my hand down her body. “Let me see just how wet.”

  13

  Kay

  I reached up onto my toes, stretching out every muscle I could while I was in the shower. Everything was sore in the best way. I didn’t know there were muscles in the places that hurt on me right now.

  Thank God Linc bought his condoms in the super-sized pack with the way we were going through them. I tipped my head under the spray to rinse out the shampoo I’d found in the shower. Definitely not my brand, but it would do the job.

  I don’t think I’d sweat as much running for the Breast Cancer run in October. I wasn’t exactly a workout freak, but I could do the bare minimum for a few charity runs through the year. Mostly to make myself feel less like a slug. Even if I complained about it for a week after because I really wasn’t in good enough shape to do them no matter how much I lied to myself.

  But a walk-slash-run for charity had nothing on the insatiable Lincoln Murdock.

  He’d remembered to feed me sometime in the middle of the night. Meatball sandwiches on crusty rolls and a potent bottle of red wine had been the cure. He had a very nice rug in front of the fireplace, and a huge u-shaped couch which we’d taken full advantage of.

  I’d stolen one of his shirts while we played a very unfair game of strip checkers. What guy didn’t have a deck of cards in his cabin in the middle of nowhere?

  I’d lost my shirt three times and he finally dragged me upstairs to warm me up in his amazing bed. Sometime near dawn he’d gone outside to shovel us out and I’d taken advantage of a bit more sleep and a shower. I turned off the taps and reached out for the towel on the warmer and found a hand instead.

  I squeaked, but knew those hands by heart. I peeked around the frosted door. “Hi.”

  “I came back in earlier and you were sleeping.” He glanced down at my chest, his center of a flame-colored eyes lighting with interest.

  I looked down. My nipples were already hardening, for God’s sake, the damn traitors. “You have to be kidding me.” How could he still find my breasts interesting? He had to have memorized every inch of them at this point.

  He hauled me out of the shower.

  “Linc! I’m wet and you’re—” I shrieked. “Cold.”

  “Well, then warm me up.” His mouth found mine.

  I pushed my wet hair out of my face and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. If he wanted me wet, then he’d have me wet. The red, black, and white plaid of his flannel soaked up some of the water and his mouth did the rest. He walked me out of the bathroom.

  “I’m dripping all over the floor.”

  “Then I’m doing my job.”

  I laughed as he tossed me onto the center of the bed with the plush flannel sheets. I flipped the sheet over me and he shook his head.

  “Nuh-uh.” He stripped his shirt off with a metallic tear of buttons and peeled off his jeans.

  The thermal shirt under the plaid molded to his delicious chest. I didn’t want to tell him to take it off, but I did love his furred chest. He knelt on the bed and tried to pull down the sheet. I held firm, but snaked my arm out to push up the worn cotton.

  He had just the right amount of chest hair. Enough that I wanted to drag my breasts along every inch of him. My nails scraped through the whorls of hair to find a nipple. He hissed and rolled me onto my back.

  Sweet lord, he was cold. I pushed his shirt up and off. It would be so easy to let him spread me apart and slide into me again. Even taking time for a condom, we’d perfected those particular smooth moves throughout the night, but I didn’t want him to think I was a complete pushover.

  He’d reached for me in the night and early in the morning before the sun came up over the ridge of mountains in the distance. Each time, he’d been gentle and sweet with just the slightest hard edge, only to rein it in. He was so very careful with me.

  He’d only lost it with me the first time. I’d had more orgasms in the last twelve hours than in twelve years, but I wasn’t content to be passive anymore. I couldn’t even name exactly what I needed. I just knew Linc would be the one to have the answers.

  I rolled him over and sat astride him. His eyes went wide and a little muscle in his cheek jumped. “Is this all right?”

  He nodded as his hands trailed up my belly to cup my breasts. His thumb swiped over one sensitive tip. “You kill me, Kay.”

  I was not going to be deterred. He liked to distract me so he could get what he wanted—to do what he wanted. I grinned and lowered myself until the ropes of my wet hair curtained us in a cool cocoon. “I think I like the idea of killing you a little.” I sucked his lower lip into my mouth for a moment. “Isn’t that what they call orgasms? The little death?”

  He groaned as he rolled his hips under me.

  “Nuh-uh. Be patient. Isn’t that what you keep saying to me?”

  “I’ve been outside clearing away a foot of snow and you’re giving me lip?”

  I smiled against his lips. “I would never. I was just thinking I might like to try to be on top this time. I get to do so many firsts this weekend that I figure we should start there.”

  He groaned. “I’m a dead man. What have I created?”

  “A sex addict?”

  He gripped my hips and urged me lower until the bulge in his boxer briefs rubbed over my pussy. “Aren’t you sore?”

  “You put a lot of stock in that dumbstick between your legs, Mr. Murdock.”

  He lifted his hips and pushed down his underwear. I let out a hiss as his shaft grazed over my clit, then along my slit, until the head of his cock was tucked under my hood. My vision hazed for a moment. I didn’t know what I was doing. I mean I knew the mechanics—girls watched porn too. And I liked hot suspense movies with the prerequisite love scene. I just, you know, hadn’t actually done this myself.

  “I do. I seem to remember you screaming a few versions of my name this morning, last night, and a few hours in between that were a little hazy.”

  I rose on my knees enough to reach between my legs and grasp his shaft. He growled out a groan. I wanted to be the seductress who just backed up and shoved him inside me, but there was the whole safety and condom thing. He may have been the hottest stranger to ever rock my world, but he was still a near stranger.

  A stranger who knew his way around my clit like he was a freaking specialist.

  Sighing, I reached for the box of condoms we hadn’t even bothered putting back into the drawer. I inched my way down his legs and tore the packet open.

  His eyes lit with interest and humor as he folded his arms behind his head. “Need to read the instructions?”

  I frowned over the packet. I thought I’d put a condom on once, and it had not been on a man. It had been a long time since I’d rolled one down a banana—or had it been a cucumber? Regardless, it wasn’t exactly something I was adept at, but I was determined to drive him crazy.

  And not with laughter.

  Instead, I employed a few of the tricks I knew would work on him too. I dragged my breasts over his thighs as I licked the underside of his shaft. His jaw clenched, but he didn’t look away from me. I shuttled my fingers down his length and licked along the pulsing vein. He was salty and hot, his skin stretched taut as his cock rose proudly.

  I would have that inside me again.

  My pussy spasmed at the thought. Every time he filled me, it reminded me what I’d been missing. My mouth watered for it, my pussy was soaked for him. I’d been so long without I was like a chocoholic being let free in a Hershey’s factory.

  And Linc was a really impressive mold.

  I glanced at the condom and made sure it was turned the right way as I licked up his length. I cupped the head of his cock with my hand and the latex. I rolled it down as I crawled up his body. When my fingers reached the base of his cock, I climbed on before I could give myself time to think or get anxio
us about it.

  His hands were still behind his head, but it looked like he was fighting to stay that way. I knew he liked to touch me. The way he worshiped my body told me at least that much. There was no end to his generosity when it came to foreplay.

  But it was my turn to see what was between us. To learn his body like he’d fully researched mine. His gaze never left my pussy as I slowly took his cock inside of me. I tipped my head back for a moment as I adjusted for the size of him. God, this position was incredible. There was no way he should feel this different.

  But…wow.

  I let out a long breath and rocked slightly. I hissed as the hair at the base of his shaft buzzed along my clit. I tried to drag my eyes open again, but the stretch of his cock inside me and the friction triggered something in me. I wanted more.

  He gripped my waist to push himself deeper and my eyes flew open. He sat up and one hand moved up to tangle in my hair. I moaned into his mouth at the even fuller angle. He urged me to move. The rocking motion, the fullness, and the overwhelming feel of him surrounding me, dominating me even when I’d maneuvered myself on top—they were my undoing. I raked my fingernails down his back as our mouths crashed and our breathing stalled.

  He dragged my head back and went at my neck as I arched to get away from the sheer emotional onslaught that chased all the pleasure.

  A quick fuck and run wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

  I wasn’t sure anything was supposed to feel like this so fast.

  I rolled my hips against him, and the contact drove me faster toward the pleasure that still scared the hell out of me. Letting go was against my very nature.

  “Stop fucking thinking.” His mouth was against mine, the words like blows. “Just feel me.”

  Everything inside me warned against it, but for once, my brain couldn’t override my body. I came so hard the room fuzzed around me. There was only the pulse of his body inside mine, and his eyes. Those intense, shattered eyes that saw too much.

  Demanded all.

  And I gave it.

  God help me, I gave up everything to him.

  I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and buried my face in his neck as I shuddered in the afterburn of the explosion of emotions. I wasn’t sure if he felt the same or if this was just chemistry for him.

  I laid my cheek against his shoulder as my breathing went back to normal and my skin cooled. The blankets and sheets had pooled around us, but I didn’t want to move, and I surely didn’t want to see him withdrawing.

  I chose to withdraw instead.

  When he slid from me, I immediately felt bereft. That so wasn’t the plan. On shaky legs, I rolled off the bed, operating in pure flight mode.

  “Kay,” he called after me. I didn’t even bother to look back. I wasn’t entirely sure I could handle looking at him right now. He didn’t follow.

  Thank God.

  I stumbled to the bathroom and leaned against the door.

  Not part of the plan at all.

  14

  Scrooge

  I dropped back onto the bed.

  What the hell had just happened?

  I was pretty sure a bomb had just gone off in my brain. I’d still been reeling from coming my fucking brains out and she’d been off me like a shot.

  I scrubbed my hands over my face. My plan to kill Christmas with orgasms and distraction wasn’t going so well. The orgasms—that was definitely a check. The virgin thing I hadn’t counted on. Regardless of her age, she was a vibrant woman with an amazing personality to go with her mind-melting beauty.

  But instead of getting her out of my system, all I could focus on was the fact that I’d been the only one ever inside her. Even more terrifying was how much I liked it. “Fuck,” I muttered as I rolled off the bed. I took care of the condom before slipping on a pair of sweats.

  I crossed to the master bath and pressed my hand to the door. “Kay?”

  “I’ll be out in a second.”

  Her voice was way too chipper. Her elf voice. The everything-is-going-to-be-fine voice. I sighed. “I’ll be downstairs. Don’t be long.”

  “I won’t.”

  “I, um, picked up some stuff in town.”

  The door opened. “What kind of stuff?”

  I smiled. One thing a woman couldn’t resist was a present. “It’s on the bed.” She tried to peer around me and I blocked her. “Come on out.”

  She huffed and looked away from me, but couldn’t stop herself from trying to peek again. I drew her out of the room. She was wearing one of my plaid shirts, the tails flirting with her long legs. Fuck, she was gorgeous.

  “Now don’t get offended, I bought it big on purpose.”

  She picked up the hand-knitted sweater I’d purchased from one of the shops in town. It had an original pattern that no manufacturer could duplicate. The bulky yarn was soft in a misty gray color. She didn’t even hold it up to see what it would look like on her. She unbuttoned the three buttons she’d done up and slipped off the shirt. My damn jaw unhinged when she stood there completely at ease with herself enough to tug the sweater over her head.

  “Oh, wow.” She brushed her hand over the material. “It’s like a cloud.” She immediately went up on her toes and kissed my cheek. “Thank you.”

  I shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”

  “No big deal is buying a sweater on the clearance rack. This was thoughtful and I love it.”

  I pulled her into me and slid my hand under the fabric. “I’m glad you like it.” Her soft eyes went liquid as I palmed her ass.

  “Pretty decent bribe to get me out of the bathroom, Mr. Murdock. Not very Scrooge-like of you, either.”

  I frowned down at her. “I’m not Scrooge.”

  “Oh? Is there another present for me? Tis the season and all.”

  I frowned. “This is a practical gift.”

  “Uh huh.” She went up on her toes and met my mouth with hers. The kiss was sweet and teasing. Not the brain-melting kind she’d knocked me over with, nor the inviting kind. It was pure pleasure. I found that I wanted more of them.

  And because I wanted it so badly, I backed away from her and picked up the shirt off the floor. “Do I get this back now?”

  She frowned as she curled her fingers over the edges of the cuffs. “I suppose.”

  I shrugged it on and it was warm from her body. I nodded to the leggings I’d gotten for her as well. “If you get dressed like a good girl, I’ll make you my famous French toast.”

  “Now you want me dressed?”

  “For safety’s sake.”

  “Splatter? Bacon grease? By the way, mmm…bacon.”

  I laughed. “My sake. I can’t concentrate if you’re naked.”

  “Oh.” She pressed her lips together, but a smile crept out. “Can’t have you burning our French toast.”

  “Exactly.” I let her go. I didn’t want to focus on how much it killed me. I’d never been the kind of guy to need a woman in my space. Then again, no one was quite like Kandy Kane. I stopped at the threshold. “I like having you here, Kay.”

  I left before I said something even more stupid. I took the stairs two at a time and lit the fire. It would take a little time for the logs to catch, but a wood fire trumped gas in all ways. By the time I pulled my griddle out of the pantry, Kay came down the stairs in the black knit pants with a pair of my socks. Her hair was piled up in a messy twist and the sweater had slid down one creamy shoulder.

  I’d traced every one of the freckles on that shoulder, and I’d do so again today. I kept waiting to get tired of her smell and her touch, but it was impossible. It had to be something to do with her smelling like a damn cookie.

  Even now my fingers itched to pull her in front of me and taste the nape of her neck. The way she purred out my name was addictive. I pulled out eggs, milk, and cinnamon instead. I grabbed a bread knife from the block and ripped the paper off the fresh bread I’d picked up.

  She trailed her fingers along the granite countertop. �
��What can I do?”

  “Check on the fire?”

  “That I can definitely do.” She twirled on her toes and crossed into the living room, then dropped to her knees in front of the fire. Firelight and sunshine turned her hair burnished gold. The skies had cleared and the sun was blazing down on the snow. Too bad the sun didn’t trump twenty-degrees. It was cold as hell outside.

  She stoked the fire with the poker and added two more logs. She warmed her hands in front of the fire before wandering to the bookcases that lined the room. Where my brother had classics and dry business volumes, my tastes ran to murder and mayhem.

  She pulled down one of my favorites and flipped it over to read the back. Dean Koontz and Joe Hill were my go-tos for horror and psychology. She brought the book over to the couch. “You sure you don’t want help?”

  “I’m good.”

  She curled into the corner of the sofa closest to the flame and tucked a red throw around her legs. Instead of the front of the book, she read the last page. I grinned. Said a lot about a person who needed to know the ending before she bothered to start it at the beginning.

  I liked the slow build—at least I used to.

  Kay was the first woman to interest me beyond a glass of wine and a no-strings-attached evening in three years. Even worse, I hadn’t felt this level of possessiveness after two years of being with Sheridan. I curled my fingers into fists, but the anger I’d been hiding from simply wasn’t there.

  I didn’t know how to shuffle around it. Living with it was easier than pushing through the emotions and dealing with what had happened. I wasn’t sure what to feel without it.

  Kay drew up her knees under the sweater and wore the blanket like a shawl. Her fingers poked out from the overlong armholes enough to clutch the book. Readying the bacon—a hell yes for me as well—and French toast didn’t take me long, but by the time I looked up again, she was already a quarter way through the book.

  “Do you read by osmosis or something?”

  “Huh?” She blinked at me, her eyes huge and unfocused under the fringe of bangs. She looked down at the book then back to me. “I’m not quite a speed reader. My dad can read a five-hundred-page book in an hour though.”