Home Is Where the Heat Is (16 page)

But she found the device that had ruined last New Year’s Eve, and turned it to vibrate. “No interruptions.”

He smiled. “Works for me.”

“Ten, nine, eight….” The crowd counted down in unison, and any answer he might’ve given got drowned out.

The guys joined in. “Five, four, three….”

Claire raised her glass. “Two, one.”

“Happy New Year!” They clicked the cheap plastic glasses. Multi-colored metallic confetti littered the air, and paper horns heralded the New Year’s arrival.

JT downed his champagne then snatched the drink from Claire’s hand. He bent her back over the pool table and kissed her, plunging his tongue into her mouth.

Cheers surrounded them. She should’ve protested the inappropriate public kiss, but all the alcohol she’d consumed went straight to her head, and she dug her heel into his thigh.

He pulled her up and winked. “This is gonna be a good year.”

“Yeah,” she breathed, and let him kiss her again.

Poor Kurt stood twiddling his thumbs and gazing at the ceiling, the walls, the front door—anywhere but at the entwined couple.

Claire untangled herself from JT’s grasp and hooked her arm around the awkward nerd’s neck, bending him down and planting a soft kiss on his flaming cheek. “Happy New Year, Kurt.”

He tried to speak, but the words caught. He cleared his throat and rasped, “You too.”

JT offered his hand. “I’m not gonna kiss you.”

Kurt laughed and shook it. “Good to know.” He zipped up his jacket and glanced toward the door. “I should get going.”

“Already?” JT picked up Claire’s champagne and polished it off. “There’s still more party left.”

“I’ve had enough. It was good seeing you, JT.”

“Yeah, we should do it again.”

Claire frowned as the contest shifted in Kurt’s favor.

A smile lit the geek’s eyes—overconfident, but well-justified. “I’m up for pool anytime.”

JT shuddered. “Hell no. I have tickets for the Nuggets game Wednesday night. I’ll meet you at the Pepsi Center at six.”

“I don’t know anything about basketball.” An uncertain look crossed his face. “The Nuggets are a basketball team, right?”

“Yeah.” JT laughed. “Well then, let me educate you.”

“Sounds good.” Kurt grinned and slapped his shoulder. “See you Wednesday. Good night, Claire.”

She pasted a smile on her face. “Good night,” she called after him as he pushed through the crowd.
Cheese and crackers. What just happened?
That over-the-top midnight kiss should’ve branded JT as hers, but
Kurt
had a date with him?

Her muscles tensed as she crossed her arms and turned to JT. “So… Wednesday, huh?”

“Wanna go?”

“No, I’m not into basketball.”

“Okay.”

What the—?
He hadn’t backed off when Kurt said no. She grabbed a stray cue stick and considered shoving it up the nearest tight ass. “Rack ‘em up.”

But JT wrenched the cue away from her and grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her back against his body and breathing hot in her ear. “I’ve got a stick you can play with.”

Her spine tingled, but she couldn’t stop the sassy retort on her tongue. “Got balls, too?”

He ground his sudden erection against her butt. “Let’s get out of here.” He pulled her toward the door.

But Claire resisted.
Does he think a few dirty words and nice wood will make it all better?
“I thought you wanted to stay for more party.”

He circled back and swept her into his arms. Something wicked flashed in his eyes as he dragged his tongue from the tip of her chin down to the top of her heaving breasts. Their eyes mated as he touched his nose to hers. “Sweet thing, let me show you how
I
ring in the new year.”

Fucking hell. It
is
all better.

Chapter 11

They’d come to the party separately, but if JT’s luck favored the bedroom more than the pool table, they’d come together soon enough. He typed his address into her GPS. “I’ll follow you.”

Claire started her car. “Still don’t trust me?”

“I don’t like to be left behind.” An old emotion caught in his throat, turning his words hoarse.

She stroked his clenched jaw. “I’ll follow you.” Her lips burned on his, as they lingered in the frigid night air.

He tore away from their kiss, shivering as he ran to his truck. He hated this part of a relationship… the part where everything felt wonderful before Goddamn fucking fate threw a monkey wrench into the whole thing.

Enjoy it while it lasts.

The engine clunked dead, and he turned the key again, hoping only the cold was working against him and not the universe, too. The truck started. He gave it a little gas to keep it going. Claire pulled in front of him as he shifted into gear. He motioned for her to proceed, and they drove the mostly deserted streets to his home.

Claire parked in the driveway and got out of her car, gazing up at the two-story stucco house. “Nice place,” she said when he joined her in the driveway.

“Thanks.” JT cradled her arm as they climbed the front steps. “I built it myself. Took a few years, but I’m proud of the result.”

“You should be. It’s beautiful.” She shrugged off her coat and admired the tile floors, carved oak staircase, and vaulted ceilings. “All this space… you built it just for you?”

He hung their coats in a half-empty closet that had turned out much bigger than he’d planned. He’d been celebrating at the time, toasting his achievement. “When I took over the Hodge, I went a little crazy buying or building all the things I ever wanted.” Could he tell her how empty this house felt, how the rooms echoed with his sole footsteps? “I don’t have anyone else to share my success with, so I splurged on me.” He pointed her toward the kitchen.

She strolled down the hall, gazing at the few photos he’d hung. “No family?”

He stopped and pointed to a picture of a woman and handsome man standing with two smiling children. “My sister and her kids come here for Christmas. I play Santa, but they’re getting too old for that now.”

“My family doesn’t get together for holidays anymore,” Claire said. “I’d love to see my nieces and nephews, but my sisters and I aren’t close. We have nothing in common except parents who ignore us.”

“Kaylee is the one woman in my life who’s never given up on me. And fortunately Zoe doesn’t believe her uncle is the worthless piece of shit her grandmother says he is.”
If only I believed it too.

“Have you ever invited your parents here?”

Why did she have to ask about them? He stopped in front of a picture of his dad. “My dad died when I was in high school, so he’s never seen my place.” His chest tightened and his arm felt like lead as he reached out to touch the frame. “I asked my mom to come over for Thanksgiving once, but she said no. She refused to set foot in my ‘pathetic bachelor mansion.’”

“Why is she so cold? I’d be proud of my son.”

“Even if you never wanted him?”

“Always.”

“You have a big heart.” He pulled her close and kissed her sweet lips. “I wish my sister did, then maybe she’d be more forgiving of my antics.”

“I bet you’re a fun uncle.”

“Much to Kaylee’s dismay.” He laughed as pictures of his sister’s stricken face popped into his head. “Once, I took her boy, Malcolm, flying with me.”

“You know how to fly?”

“Got my pilot’s license a few years ago. I’d completed all the required hours, so I felt confident carrying a passenger. He loved it—asked me all sorts of questions about how to fly—so I let him take over the controls. Of course, he had to brag to him mom that he flew all by himself. Kaylee flipped out. Swore she’d never let Mal go anywhere with me again. That didn’t last. Now I let him take off and the next time we go up, he wants to try landing. I made him promise not to tell her.”

“I hope for your sake she doesn’t find out.”

“I’ll live. What I’m really worried about is when she finds out I let Zoe play pilot.” JT grinned.

Claire shook her head.

“Would you like a drink?”

“Just water.” She wobbled as he led her to the kitchen. “I shouldn’t have driven here.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He opened the refrigerator and handed her a bottle of water. “I would’ve taken you with me.”

She stood across from him and leaned on the cooking island, running her fingers over its gleaming quartz surface. “I know, but I didn’t want to leave my car.”

“Escape clause?” He pulled a bottle of scotch from the liquor cabinet.

“No.” She shook her head and unscrewed the bottle cap. “I didn’t want to leave it in an open parking lot all night on New Year’s Eve.”

“Good point.” Then he grinned. “All night?” He plunked a glass down on the counter and poured.

Her chocolate eyes sparkled, and she bit her lip. “Up for it?” She leaned on her elbows and her awesome breasts squeezed together and peeked from her blouse, begging for attention.

Scotch splashed on the hard quartz as his gaze stuck to her. He set the bottle down and grabbed a towel, but Claire beat him to the spill. She dragged her fingertip through the dark liquid and wiped a trail between her breasts.

A low moan rumbled in the quiet room.
Is that me?
He studied the island, calculating the angle and force needed to vault the thing and land on top of her.

A satisfied smile touched her lips as if she were anticipating the move, so he ditched that plan. His cock throbbed in protest, screaming for release now, but he put his baser instincts on hold and decided to stalk her instead.

Her eyes fluttered wide, and she fumbled for the chair behind her as he circled the barrier. The scent of warm whiskey emanated from her pulsing skin. He stopped short of touching her and reached for his glass. A long drink burned slowly down his throat, igniting his lust, fueling his need. He sat facing her, bumping his knee against hers while she waited.
Enjoy it while it lasts, and make it last till we can’t walk.

“Well?” She drummed her fingernails on the countertop.

Another drink. Another stall tactic. Her eyes snapped. Hell, he could drive her crazy without saying a word, but dozens of dirty words pummeled his brain, and he couldn’t contain them. “As soon as I finish my drink, you’re going to get fucked in every nasty way I know.”

A small gasp escaped and her voice quivered. “How many is that?”

He raised his glass. “
All
of them.”

***

A wave of heat nearly knocked Claire to the hard tile floor. She braced a hand on the cool countertop until the rush quieted to a churning roar.

JT settled back with the scotch in his hand, slowly swirling the amber liquid. On the surface, he appeared casual, almost blasé. Smoldering sexuality oozed though denim, and pure evil danced in his eyes.

A fleeting panic seized Claire, but she cast it aside.
Bored? No, he’s toying with me.
Her nipples tingled and stiffened inside her bra. He smiled as she squirmed, but he wouldn’t drink.
What the hell is this man doing to me?
Maybe if she stripped in front of the sliding glass doors, he’d be motivated to let go of the scotch and grab onto her.

His gaze traveled over her body, taking in her fitted sweater and snug jeans as she waited for his next move. Would he kiss her? Touch her? Rip something off?

“Stand up.” His hand remained clamped around the half-full glass, but he flicked a finger in the direction he wanted her to go.

Stiletto heels clicked on the floor as she got up, trembling a bit as she took the position he’d indicated. “Would you rather have me stand over there?” She nodded toward the revealing patio doors. Light from his neighbor’s house penetrated the back yard—someone could be watching even at this hour.

“No. This time you’ll strip just for me.” He raised the glass to his lips, then changed his mind at the last second. “Take your pants off.”

Shivers coursed down her spine. Just for him—a private audience. She unsnapped her jeans and lowered the zipper, peeling them down her hips to her knees. The shoes had to go, so she stepped out of them and kicked her pants across the room. Goose bumps covered her legs.

“Cold?”

Standing in the big open kitchen, exposed to him, but shielded from the world outside, rattled her. The idea of having a larger audience frightened her less than the prospect of taking her clothes off for his intense gaze alone. She shook her head.

“Good.” He swirled the untouched scotch again. “Lose the panties.”

With a tug and a wiggle, she dropped the cherry red satin to the floor, leaving her naked from the waist down. She’d expected to remove her sweater next, but the bastard exposed her most vulnerable flesh first.

He groaned and emptied half the glass in one swallow.

Thank God.

Then he picked up the bottle and refilled his drink past the point it had been before.

Claire sputtered. Half-naked, showing off the good parts and he reached for the
bottle
? “Are you fucking kidding me?”
What does it take to light a fire under his ass?

JT grinned. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

As she prepared to unleash another curse, she realized he’d played her, and she’d tipped her hand. She smiled and slid her bare feet across the floor, parting her thighs and exposing her ace in the hole.

But instead of folding, he stared at the counter, oddly transfixed by the inanimate object. His calculating gaze slid up and down her legs, then back to the countertop.
He’s measuring.
Hot dew collected between her legs as she imagined him bending her over the solid quartz.

“Put the heels back on.”

She nearly fell on her bare ass as she tripped into her shoes.

“Now go to my bedroom.”

What?
“But I thought—?”

“Don’t argue.” He picked up the glass and pointed with it toward the hallway. “Upstairs, last door on the right.”

No kitchen sex. Damn it.
She could’ve maneuvered him in front of the window, but maybe his bedroom provided a better view. She turned and took two trembling steps.