Jingle Bell: Rock Part 12

He was careful to hide his smile, appreciating the silent woman behind him. He imagined that her breath was starting to get a little choppy. Her pulse quick and light. He imagined that the sight of a man doing the dishes was having the desired effect.

He paid her no attention as he returned for the remaining dishes, but a moment later he heard the slide of velvet on stockings as she stood from the chair and crossed the room. He took a quick peek at her retreating form. She had a softly swaying gait. She was graceful in heels. She was sleek and red and round in all the right places.

Without warning, she looked over her shoulder and said, "How about a little bit of everything, Earl?"

d.a.m.n, she'd caught him ogling. He needed to be more aloof. Cooler. But he had to admit that a little bit of everything was what he had in mind as well. Maybe a lot of it.

"Sounds like a plan," he said, returning his attention to the sink.

As strains of Marvin Gaye spilled into the room, Earl sensed her standing behind him. He could smell her. He could feel her. She opened a kitchen drawer just to the right of his hip.

"Here, Earl. I think you might need this."

When her fingers brushed against the front of his d.i.c.kie's, he nearly dropped a plate.

Chapter Five.

Oh, she was naughty to the core! She was torturing Earl, but she couldn't stop herself. Teasing-the hors d' oeuvres of s.e.x-had always made her famished for the main course.

Besides, Earl didn't seem to mind. As she reached around his waist with the ap.r.o.n strings, she brushed her fingers across the fly of his trousers, and she heard him gasp.

She felt him swell.

It was all very rewarding.

"I wouldn't want you to get the front of your pants all wet," she breathed in his ear.

She felt his big body shudder.

Then he turned slightly, bringing his handsome face inches from hers. "Do you get wet when you do the dishes, Ms. Matthews?"

She giggled, pressing her body against his nicely formed backside as she tied the strings in a bow. "It happens sometimes, yes," she said.

When she was done, Valerie gave that b.u.t.t of his a friendly little pat. She'd wanted to do that since the moment he walked in her house.

"Thanks, Earl."

His response came out in a croak she thought might have been the words: "No problem."

As Valerie moved into the living room, she could feel the heat of Earl's stare again. He'd been staring at her all night. This time, she could feel his eyes make their way from her shoes, up the back of her legs, lingering on her b.u.t.t, up the long line of her back, to the shoulders, arms, neck and hair.

She knew with certainty that Earl was thinking about her walking around without underwear. She knew he was trying to stay cool, and failing miserably.

She put a little extra oomph in the swing of her hips and shook out her curls.

They were adults. Clearly they both wanted the same thing. The only question was who would be the first to cross the line?

Valerie stood staring down into the fire, listening to the crackle of wood, the mellow rhythm of Motown, and the comforting clatter Earl was making in her kitchen. Outside the picture window, she could see the snow coming down in large icy flakes, and her thoughts moved to people who were alone tonight. It humbled her to think that if it weren't for pure chance, she might be one of them.

She looked around her home and sighed with pleasure. She felt languid, relaxed, and suddenly hot.

Valerie brought a hand to her throat and felt a thin sheen of perspiration. She stroked up the side of her flushed face, to her hairline, where tiny curls stuck to her damp forehead.

"It's hotter than h.e.l.l in here," she mumbled to herself, stepping back from the fire just a bit.

"Did you say something?"

She jumped. He'd snuck up on her, and she nearly backed into him. In fact, Earl was so close that she could feel his breath on the nape of her neck.

"No," she said, suddenly aware of how nervous she felt. Her belly was fluttering. Her pulse was hammering. Her mouth was dry. The two of them were playing a game, but apparently, it was a game her body took quite seriously.

Earl came around to her side and handed her the winegla.s.ses. Then he slowly, so slowly, lowered himself down to a squat at her feet and looked up at her with those true blue eyes.

"Maybe I should heat things up a bit more," Earl said, offering her a wicked smile. He pulled the chain on the fireplace screen, and the sharp screeching sound made them both flinch.

He sighed. "I really should fix that."

"Lubrication, right?" she whispered.

He tossed a few logs on the grate and rose up again. "Lubrication is key." He accepted the wine she handed him. "Shall we make a toast?"

Valerie faced him. He was a truly gorgeous man, with that strong and straight nose, firm jaw, smooth tawny skin-all of it seeming to serve only one purpose, and that was to be the backdrop for those s.e.xy eyes.

They shone down on her with humor and intelligence and a flash of desire that heated her blood. And at that moment, she would have given anything to know what the man was thinking. Just how sure of himself was he? Just what were his plans for her? For this night? Just what kind of woman did he a.s.sume she was?

She clinked her gla.s.s against his. "To Christmas Eves and heroes. You're mine tonight. Thanks for coming out."

"My pleasure," he said simply.

And as she leaned her head back and took a tiny sip, she heard the CD player shuffle and send more husky-voiced soul cla.s.sics gliding through the room. The music, the man, the mood-she was ready to say yes to nearly anything.

Then she felt him come closer. The tips of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s barely brushed his solar plexus. And she felt his body begin to move, to sway just a bit, and she let herself be drawn into him.

"Nice song," Earl said.

The front of her thighs brushed against his rough cotton work pants. Her knees grazed just below his. She heard the soft whoosh of his breath, felt his heat. She smelled him; he smelled like clean winter air.

The words came out before she could stop them. "Do you believe in everlasting love, Earl?"

He laughed a little and shrugged. "Sure I do, Ms. Matthews, just look at parents and their kids. That usually lasts for the duration."

She smiled at his answer. "But what about romantic love?"

"Ah, now that's a different story."

It was then that she felt his hand touch her hip. It landed with an easy sense of owners.h.i.+p that made her tremble.

"Are we talking about pa.s.sion?"

Valerie blinked. She swallowed. She answered him in a meek voice. "Yes. That kind of love."

"I see." Earl spread his fingers wide and caressed her hip, his touch beginning to wander onto some very sensitive territory.

His gaze locked on hers. "I believe that if you want something to last, you gotta keep things interesting. I think pa.s.sionate love between a man and a woman can last, but it's rare."

His hand moved up to the small of her back, and she felt him pull her closer. The dainty toe of her sling backs b.u.mped up against a pair of steel-toed work boots.

"And you, Ms. Matthews? Do you think love can last?"

It was difficult to carry on a conversation with his hands on her. The press of his palm held just the right amount of pressure. The feel of his body against hers was making her ears ring and her head spin.

And all she could think was that there had been a time in her life when she would have answered his question with a quick no. But tonight-oh, my.

Tonight, on this Christmas Eve, Valerie was br.i.m.m.i.n.g with optimism.

Chapter Six.

As he gazed down into Valerie Matthew's lovely face, Earl recalled the way she'd looked just moments ago, standing alone before the fireplace. She'd turned off the lamp, and the room's only light had come from the fire and the white twinkle of the Christmas tree. The whole picture had seemed magical to him-as if she were standing in a dream world, waiting for him to come to her. As if she were his fantasy made flesh.

She'd stood with one hip jutted out, the opposite toe tapping to the beat. She began to move, smooth and sultry, her hips making a half circle that seemed at once an honest appreciation of the music and an overt attempt at seduction.

It had worked.

And now, with his hands on her body and his eyes locked with hers, he knew it was his turn to seduce her.

He set his winegla.s.s on the mantel. And with his left hand, he touched that sweet spot he loved so much-just where the dip of a woman's waist swelled out to form her hip. So unlike a man's body. So unlike any other spot on Earth.

Earl allowed his palm to sink down in the red velvet hollow, where he hoped the subtle pressure would convince, suggest, and encourage.

He loved the way she responded.

And that's when it hit him: Valerie Matthews was the kind of woman a man could get lost in. The kind who could take a man, love him right, and send him back into the world better for knowing her.

She was the kind of woman Earl had always wished for.

She inched even closer. She wiggled a bit. And he pressed his palm in a little tighter, letting his body sway. And he wondered if this woman would follow his lead, and how far she'd go.

Then Valerie reached up with a graceful sweep of her arm and ditched her winegla.s.s, too. Both her arms curled around his neck and he felt her there-sweet and light and holding on to him, asking him to dance with her.

In those eyes, he saw what she was really asking for. And he felt his heart do a back flip.

He cleared his throat. "Uh... do you like to dance, Ms. Matthews?"

She smiled seductively. "Depends on the dance partner, Earl."

He moved his other hand to the small of her back, letting his palm rest in the second sweetest spot on Earth. He spread his fingers wide, touching the swell of her a.s.s, the muscles of her back.

He studied her mouth, the lips parted slightly, so pretty and feminine. So f.u.c.king hot.

He felt his knees tremble. He took a steadying breath. He decided it was time to take little Valerie Matthews on a test-drive.

"Do you like to kiss, Ms. Matthews?"

"Depends on who's doing the kissing, Earl."

He scooped her into the front of his body with one smooth movement of his forearm. The other hand found the nape of her neck, the warm silk of her l.u.s.trous dark hair, and he cupped the back of her head in his big palm.

He watched her eyes flash. Her lips open. A pink flush raced over her cheeks, her throat, her chest. Earl recognized the flush of her s.e.xual arousal.

They swayed together. Earl felt the slide of expensive red velvet along the plain cotton of his uniform, and the contrast was strangely exciting to him. She was elegance. He was ordinary. He reminded himself that this woman was a stranger, and his c.o.c.k nearly burst through the zipper of his pants.

He saw the instant she became aware of his erection, and felt her push instinctively against his hard flesh. He watched her eyelids grow heavy with the knowledge of him.

Then he began to nudge against her in time with the music. And she accepted his rhythm with the give of her belly, the arch of her back. Her eyes never left his.

"So you like it when big handsome men come to your rescue, Ms. Matthews?"

She gasped.

"Tell me how you reward them, aside from pulling off your panties and flas.h.i.+ng them."

He watched her mouth fall open in what he thought might be outrage. It made him smile.

"Do you have any idea what that did to me?"

"No," she whispered. "I mean... yes."

He chuckled, then grabbed her hair and tilted her head back so that her eyes looked right into his.

"Do you want me, Ms. Matthews?"

She moaned. Her lips fell open enough for him to see inside her mouth to that wet pink tongue he was going to own in just a matter of seconds.