Eight
Candace
“Are you staying with your parents?” Pax asked as we rolled down the highway, toward home. Though we’d traveled in near silence yesterday, tension ping-ponging between us, today an easy intimacy had locked on. Plus, whenever my phobias started to edge in, he seemed to sense it and derail the clouds. Like now, with his question about my plans.
We’d been on the road for about an hour and had at least another before pulling into the suburb where we’d grown up, living next door to each other. Because of road conditions, we were driving slower than the normal speed. The highway quality wasn’t great, but the storm had fully passed and this Christmas afternoon seemed blindingly bright. White gleamed for as far as I could see, the landscape looking like a traditional Christmas card, actually.
What wasn’t so beautiful? My accommodations for the next week.
“Ugh,” I groaned. “Yeah. I’m staying at my parents’ place. They turned my old bedroom into a home gym, though, and my grandma is using the guest room. I’m sleeping on the couch. You?”
“I got a hotel room.”
“Big spender,” I teased.
“It’s a Christmas gift to myself. My other option was bunking with my little brother. Stay with me?”
“At the hotel?”
“No, Candace. In the bedroom I’m supposed to share with my seventeen-year-old brother,” he deadpanned. “Of course, at the hotel. I told you last night… I don’t want to be away from you. Ever again.”
“A bed does sound better than the couch.”
“Oh, so just the bed part of the arrangement sounds good?”
“Hmm, does your room have two queens?” I replied, purposely bating him.
“No, naughty girl. There’s only one queen. Does Santa need to give you a spanking tonight?”
I squirmed in my seat, my thighs squeezing as renewed heat erupted in my center.
“Beds are very useful,” I hedged, ignoring his spanking taunt. “Having one last night was a nice change from our usual.”
“We haven’t been together enough times for us to have a usual , but I agree. The bed was good. I don’t think our neighbors appreciated it, though.”
A burning flush rushed into my face. “Oh, God.”
“Or maybe, they did like it,” he continued, a smug grin curling his lips. “They did cheer and applaud after the third round.”
And someone had yelled That one was a ten, man. Now, let her sleep. To which someone else had yelled, Let us all sleep.
“They just wanted us to shut up,” I muttered.
“You are loud,” he teased.
“I’m loud?” I scoffed, shoving his arm. “You’re loud.”
He snorted in amusement, though he kept his eyes on the road. “So that’s a yes for staying with me at the hotel?”
“Yes.” And was that really me having a flutter of excitement over it? Maybe, Pax and I just needed to have last night’s talk, like…oh, eight years ago. I felt kind of bad about that—actually, really bad—but when I’d voiced that to him in the wee hours of that morning, he’d told me, well ordered me, not to guilt myself because it would only start another problem. He wasn’t wrong, I supposed, so I would battle down that remorse with a wire-wrapped bat.
As if sensing the rise of emotion in me, he reached over and enveloped my hand in his warm grip. It grounded me, and I almost had to catch my breath at the depth of the belonging that welled up in me. I was in the right place with him.
I squeezed his fingers, leaning into the connection. “I need to go to my parents’ house first. Hang out with them for a little bit.”
He nodded, grimacing. “Same. My mom and dad aren’t thrilled I’m not staying with them, even though I’ll be around all week. They’ve been pretty vocal about that.”
“Mine probably won’t like it much, either. Oh, I need to hit the after-holiday sales tomorrow, too.”
“Why?”
“Well, for one, I didn’t get you a present, Santa. We haven’t exactly been in that place.”
“You gave me your candy. I enjoyed your present all night long, baby girl. And I’m keeping my gift forever. So why don’t we just go to breakfast in the morning, instead, and maybe go over to Christmas display at the botanical gardens.”
“I’d like that. It sounds way better than after-Christmas crowds at the store. But speaking of crowds… Tonight is the block’s Christmas party.”
“It’ll be fun. Always is.”
“I hope my mom didn’t buy me a fancy holiday outfit. She loves to do that, and she refuses to believe I’ve grown out of frilly dresses.”
“Did you bring a dress for the party?”
Fair point.
“No…” I replied slowly.
“Then I hope she did. Do you know how many years I’ve wanted to slide my hands up your tights and push aside all that chiffon, lace and velvet and—”
“Pax Kane!” I exclaimed.
“What?” he defended. “Seriously, do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to unwrap you? I’ll give you a hint… Way before eight years ago. I know why our male students have crushes on you because I did when I was their age.”
I glanced over at him. “I’m surprised you didn’t give up on me a long time ago.”
If I hadn’t been looking at him, I would have missed his reaction, missed how serious he grew. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and the hand holding the steering wheel tightened, even as the thumb of his other hand brushed lightly over the inner curve from my thumb to my forefinger, sending shivers through me.
His chest lifted with a heaved breath. “I will never, ever, give up on you, Candace. I can promise you that.”
“I’m beginning to figure that out. Actually, if I’m honest, I guess I figured it out a long time ago. I didn’t want to admit it.”
“Why?”
“Because…admitting you weren’t done with me would make me face that I kept running away and I was a coward and maybe, I was hurting you. And it hurts me to think of hurting anyone else—even you. Probably especially you. Again, if I’m honest.”
“Always be honest with me,” he said in a low voice, the same timbre that had all my pleasure centers scrambling to high alert. Even at that moment, my toes curled, and I was horribly tempted to tell him yes, sir . That wasn’t happening.
I settled for, “Yes, Santa,” which seemed like a good middle ground. And Pax clearly like it. His lips twitched, and he shook his head.
“I swear to God, little elf, don’t make me pull over this truck.”
“Why? What will happen if you do?”
Pax didn’t answer, just glanced over his shoulder and changed lanes. A moment later, he took the exit ramp. My eyes widened, and my lips parted as I stared at him. He didn’t explain, just pulling into the first parking lot. After throwing the truck into park, he reached over to unclick my seatbelt.
“Get over here,” he growled, already pulling me to straddle his lap. His hands buried in my hair while he ravaged my mouth, and I didn’t find it to be the punishment he’d implied it would be.
His hand splayed on my ass, squeezing and pulling me closer to the hard ridge in his jeans. He made short work of the closure of my pants then wedged his hand inside. His fingers glided through my slick folds, and at least two of his fingers plunged inside me.
“Ride,” he ordered.
“Here?” I squeaked.
“Is that the answer you’re supposed to give? Give me the right words.”
“Yes, Santa,” I moaned.
“That’s my good little Candy Cane.”
His thumb flicked over me, and I spasmed around the digits filling me, already well on my way to a climax. God, how had I denied us this? It was everything I’d never dared hope.
My hips rocked on his hand, and I groaned, knowing I was powerless to him. Because I liked it that way. I did. I wanted it, and I liked it. I liked being his.