Bewitched by Christmas Page 4
She wound her fingers into his hair and held on as she felt his hands move down her back to grip her bottom. She felt dizzy. Never had a man affected her like this. Goodness, she felt like she was burning up.
Her head went foggy as his assault on her mouth persisted, and he swept her mouth with his tongue, continuing to knead her bottom with his hands.
She moved her hands between them as best as possible to work at the buttons of his shirt. She wanted to feel his skin. Since she’d laid her eyes on him shirtless in the kitchen, she’d wanted to feel his skin and run her hands over his muscles. She wanted to feel his muscles move under her touch.
Brock slowly moved one hand from her full bottom to the skin of her belly and worked his way up under her shirt until he grasped one full breast with his large hand. Allie groaned as he massaged the heavy orb in his palm. He explored her mouth with his tongue. He couldn’t get enough of her.
Something in her head yelled they were moving way too fast and yet something else screamed for him not to stop. Don’t stop; please don’t stop.
Allie was slightly aware of her feet moving as she was slowly moved in the opposite direction, until her back was against the wall beside the closet. He swiftly lifted her up with his hands planted under her thighs and wrapped her legs around his waist so her core was against his hardness.
Nothing made sense in the fog filling her mind.
Allie couldn’t think straight through the simple fact that she frantically wanted him.
Allie’s brain finally began to register a sound in the distance, a sound coming from the living room. As the lust-filled fog dissipated, Allie realized it was her phone ringing over and over and over.
Embarrassment sank in as she realized she was wrapped around Brock like a human pretzel clinging for dear life. She quickly untangled herself from him and left Brock dazed, staring after her. She ran back to the living room to answer the phone as it began to ring yet again.
“Hello?” Allie answered, out of breath.
“Well hi, honey,” came Aunt Margret’s voice, “just checking in on you. Did you watch the news? Bad storm coming in. We may be snowed in for a couple of days,” Aunt Margret said with concern in her voice. “Are you stocked?” Aunt Margret closed the book that sat in front of her on the coffee table and stood to look out the window at the growing snowfall. A little snow never hurt anyone, she thought, smiling and looking back at her spell book.
Allie mentally thanked her aunt for interrupting her and Brock because no telling what would have happened. She inwardly sighed as she sent silent thanks. “Yes, I am stocked in case of an emergency, and no, I did not watch the news,” she responded.
“Well, how is that gentleman doing that you helped out?” Aunt Margret asked, trying to sound nonchalant. “Are you getting acquainted?”
Allie looked to the hall to see Brock putting wrapping paper and supplies back in the box from where it was now scattered on her floor. “Um, yes, he is very nice and he’s doing much better.”
“Did you use a little more magic to heal him?” Aunt Margret asked bluntly. “Just be careful he doesn’t see you do anything until it’s the right time.”
“I already told you I just used enough so I didn’t have to give him stitches,” she whispered into the phone. “You know I hate needles,” Allie paused, “and what do mean ‘until it’s time’?”
“Oh, nothing dear,” Aunt Margret said quickly changing the subject. “My friend Brenda came to visit. You remember Brenda?”
“Yes, I know who Brenda is, Aunt Margret. Like I would forget who Brenda is…and…?” Allie waited for it.
“Well, we had a blast eating brownies, drinking hot tea, and,” she paused a moment, “reading cards.”
Allie sighed into the phone. “Aunt Margret, I will never again go on a date with a man you, Betty, or Brenda suggest. The last one was a total disaster.”
Aunt Margret giggled. “He was, wasn’t he? Poor guy was a total mess of a man. Well sorry about that, but,” Aunt Margret sighed, “it's about Brock. She said he needs to watch his back, so I told her I’d give you a ring-a-ding and let you know to pass it on.”
“Okay,” she sighed. “Well, if that is it, we’re going to get all the presents I have in the closet for Betty’s grandkids and the Angel Tree wrapped and ready so I can drop them off sometime this week.”
“You will pass it on?” Aunt Margret asked, still watching the snow fall with a smile.
“Yes, because it sounds totally okay coming from my aunt who was told to pass it down from a card reader, mind reader, future teller, whatever you what to call her gift,” Allie mumbled into the phone.
“Okay honey, whatever you decide to do, but Brenda is a nice lady. If you need anything, give me a call,” Aunt Margret said, sounding overly cheery.
“I will. Bye, Aunt Margret.” Allie heard her aunt’s phone click before she’d finished. Allie stared at the phone. If she didn’t know better she could have sworn she heard Betty and Brenda in the background. Gah! Those three were worse than a group of teenage girls.
“Here is the box of wrapping paper and stuff. I’ll go grab the presents and we can get started. Seems you have a lot shoved into that closet,” Brock announced, setting down the wrapping supplies. “You must have some mad organizational skills.” Brock chuckled.
Allie jumped at his sudden presence. “Oh, sorry, thank you,” Allie smiled as her cheeks began to burn and watched as he headed back to the hall closet. She quickly moved her rectangular coffee table away from the couch and to the side of her area rug so they could sit comfortably on the floor and watch the fire as they worked on wrapping presents and labeling with girl, boy, and age.
“There are a lot of toys here,” Brock commented as he walked back into the living room with his arms full, quickly setting his load down on the area rug between them. “How many grandkids did you say…?” he paused.
“Betty?” Allie offered.
“Yes, Betty. How many grandkids does she have?” Brock asked. If some of his friends saw him sitting on the floor wrapping kids’ presents without a hint of reluctance, they’d be laughing their asses off.
“Five, but they’re not all for her grandchildren. I also bring a lot to set under the Angel Tree at church.” Allie began sorting the items he’d placed between them into piles by gender and age appropriateness. She laid out labels and pens on the coffee table, at the ready.
“Angel Tree?” Brock asked curiously. “I give donations to a lot of local homeless shelters and women’s shelters during the holidays. You’d be surprised how many there are. Some men really need to grow a set and understand what it means to be a partner or a husband or a father.”
“Yes, they do,” Allie agreed quietly.
“I also try to give a little to the food banks that sponsor the meals during winter,” Brock continued, not knowing why he was telling her all this.
Allie smiled, “That’s sweet. I know the shelters and food banks need it for so many things. The Angel Tree is where members of the church have the opportunity to bring and donate presents that are later distributed to needy families in our local area. You wrap the present and then label with ‘girl’ or ‘boy’ and size if applicable or age appropriate. The labeling helps when we sort the presents for each family to be delivered.”
“What are these? Do you put these on the presents?” Brock asked, smiling as he held up little strings with what looked like tiny plastic bulbs on it.
Allie chuckled. “Yes, I usually wind them through the bow on top. They are little LED twinkle Christmas light necklaces.”
“Bet the kids love them.” Brock pushed a little button that set the little lights twinkling.
“They do,” Allie smiled, taking the Christmas light necklace from him and turning it off. “Some don’t have the money to buy Christmas lights or a tree or presents. Their little faces light up.”
“You have a good heart,” Brock stated as he watched her sort the rest of the presents out.
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“I am thinking you do, too, even though you try to hide it,” Allie countered.
It was Brock’s turn to feel a little self-conscious. “Yeah, I never really share about donating to where or why.”
Allie looked at him and smiled. If she didn’t know better she’d think she saw a little pink on his cheeks.
“I love this time of year and what better way to share in the season than by helping our fellow neighbors,” Allie retorted. “Sometimes I think people forget that there are others out there, in the community, that are trying their hardest to provide the essentials for the family and just survive. Holidays are not an option to spend money when they need it for more important things, and I feel like I can help them by providing some of the little things or even a nice Christmas dinner. Anything…”
“And sharing your obsession of Christmas lights,” Brock chuckled, picking up a black bag. “Are these all Christmas light necklaces?”
Allie grabbed the bag from him. “Yes, they are. I bought them in bulk. No judging.”
“No judging,” Brock answered as he reached over to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. He let his fingers gently trail her cheek as he did, needing to touch her.
He was amazed at how soft her skin felt.
Chapter 6
Jess paced his office at the Elite Ops training facility. The training facility and program were his project. He’d worked endless man hours to create something great that would produce a well-equipped and trained team of guards. These men were his contribution to the company his late brother had dreamed up.
The military had helped prepare him for this undertaking.
Jess had built the training facility from the ground up, but he’d never been trusted with the clientele and dealings. His brother had been the one to don the suit and tie, attend business meetings, and make all the important appointments and calls. Not once had his brother thought to include him.
Not once did his brother ask for his opinion or let him offer his input into making a big decision. In the company, he was an outsider, but if not for him, his brother would not have had the men capable of the undertakings some clients demanded.
He’d just finished with his phone call to central office to speak with Brock only to find out Brock had called into the office, saying he wouldn’t be in.
The gray walls closed in on him as he continued to pace his office. He looked down at the piece of paper laying on his desk and the address scribbled on it beside a blueprint of the farm house the address belonged to. On to plan B then, it would seem. He’d wanted to avoid getting anyone else involved. She seemed like a nice girl on paper, he thought, shaking his head. Sad.
The snow was blowing through and that gave him the perfect opportunity. He’d pay a little visit to Allie Madison’s quaint little farmhouse. He could make it look like an accident, but of course, that meant she’d be collateral damage.
He pulled at the mirror hanging on his back wall to reveal a built-in safe. He input the combination into the keypad and heard the satisfying click of the lock opening. He pulled at the heavy door; it creaked a little as he opened it. He reached in for his two unmarked pistols and a few other things that might come in handy.
Grabbing his dark green duffle bag off the floor, he loaded them inside, along with extra ammo.
Inside the bag were also a few small sticks of TNT, fire starters, and a couple other items that could prove useful. He grabbed a pair of pliers, cutters, and a lock pick.
Pulled from his thoughts, Jess grabbed his phone as it began to ring for the fourth consecutive time.
“What do you want?” Jess snarled.
“Why the angry tone?” Pratt laughed. “If I didn’t know better I’d think you were avoiding me today.”
“I told you I had it under control,” Jess retorted.
“Yes, you did and now I’m checking in on your progress,” Pratt answered in a haughty tone.
“You do realize there was a heavy snow storm that passed through and they are saying we may have another one,” Jess fired back, irritated.
“Not my problem,” answered Pratt.
“Well, don’t expect to hear from me; I am busy.” Jess hung up the phone without waiting for a reply.
Hours later, he parked his black van among the snow-covered trees in the woods about half a mile from the address written down on his wrinkled piece of paper. The black van had everything he’d need for this mission. He wore his warmest military issue insulated jacket and pants to brace himself against the cold. There he waited until the early hours, before the first rays of light lit the sky, and then he would make his move.
~*~
Her brain vaguely registered the crackling of the fire in the fireplace and the twinkling of light across her ceiling from the Christmas lights. They lay on a cover from the couch spread cross the carpeted floor. It didn’t matter that he’d already divested her of her clothes. In front of the fire, with his body above hers, she was plenty warm enough. Almost too warm, but she liked it.
“Don’t stop,” Allie boldly whispered in his ear as his hands roamed over her naked body, finding the hidden little places that drove her wild. She nipped at Brock’s earlobe with her teeth as his head lowered to leave hot kisses along her neck that made her skin tingle.
“You are so damn beautiful, woman,” he whispered.
He made her feel wanted. He made her feel attractive. He made her feel loved. He wanted her with a level of ferocity no man had ever wanted her before and Allie reveled in it.
She moved her hands over his powerful chest and felt his muscles twitch under her attention. He was beautiful—masculine in all the right ways.
She’d been attracted to him since the first moment she’d seen him standing there in the kitchen, watching her, his silvery-blue gaze turning molten as he’d watched her. Well, if she was honest, from when she’d opened the car door when she’d come upon him in the ditch she'd been drawn to him, even though he was hurt.
She kissed him back with equal intensity, pushing her mouth greedily against his, and felt his length press hard against her stomach. She was ready; she wanted this she thought as she pulled him tight against her and moved her hips against his own. She was rewarded with a rumble from deep in his chest and chills went down her spin as his hands moved down her body to grab her thighs with his large, callused hands.
They moaned together as they teased each other’s bodies bringing nothing but pleasure. Her mind fogged with need for this man and her soul ached to feel him close, to get him closer and closer. He completed her in every way.
Finally, as she helped him push off his pants, there was absolutely nothing between them, no barriers to stop them, and their skin touched.
It was like fire igniting inside her and she couldn’t bear it. Allie could tell he felt it, too. “Brock,” she whispered, trying to catch her breath. “Brock.” It was like a plea from deep inside her for him to end her torment and take her. He answered with a growl and found her mouth with his, pressing himself against her warmth.
As the intensity grew, white lights sparked to life around her, and she gasped. Candles that sat unlit atop the fireplace mantel flamed and again she gasped as pleasure filled her body. Brock paused long enough to look up at the candles now all glowing orange, then turned to meet her eyes and continued his onslaught of her body. The room was aglow with tiny orbs that cast their shimmering light on everything. It was magical. It was her magic he was pulling from her…and he didn’t care. He wanted more.
Allie woke up suddenly, covered in sweat and panting in her bed. Her heart pounded hard in her chest. She turned to look at the small clock on the nightstand, 4:15 a.m.
She sat up and rubbed her hands over her face.
Her whole body buzzed.
Allie felt on edge, as if every nerve ending in her body was turned on. She thought about her dream and sighed deeply.
Allie’s eyes moved up to the glow above her as she sat up in the middle of her bed. She
felt the gut-punch of shock hit her as little spots of light hovered over her bed. Shit, she thought as she stared at them. They were beautiful, twinkling in the air, but she knew what put them there—one hell of a wet dream. With a snap of her fingers, they disappeared.
The room felt hot and small suddenly. She’d never had an erotic dream like that about a man before. If he was anything like her dream in real life, she’d burst into flames and combust.
She quickly got up, cleaned her face and dabbed on some makeup, then dressed in a pair of black leggings with colored Christmas lights all over them and a quarter-sleeve, red cotton shirt. It was the one time of year she truly enjoyed and she’d wear every pair of Christmas leggings she owned. Allie threw her hair into a messy bun and headed downstairs to her greenhouse to work on some orders, but didn’t make it.
Making her way down the stairs, her stomach growled. Food; it wanted food.
In the kitchen, Allie turned the music on low and started breakfast. Why not?
The kitchen soon filled with the smell of hazelnut coffee—her favorite—and the music of Tracy Chapman, “Give Me One Reason.” The soulful song always did something to her. She loved the sound of the song. It made her feel sexy, feminine. After her dream, she needed to move to disburse the tingling she still felt in her body.
She pulled the eggs and bacon from the fridge, setting them on the counter as she swayed her hips this way and that with the tempo and pulled out a pan from the cabinet.
Her feet and hips swayed suggestively to the music as she moved on her tip toes around her kitchen, head swirling. She danced around the kitchen and let the music move her as the bacon sizzled in the pan. Allie closed her eyes and her mind wandered to the dream as the song filled her body with movement.
Suddenly, she wasn’t alone anymore. Surprisingly, she was not surprised and she went with it. The warmth of his body against hers as she moved made her soul burn.