All I Want for Christmas is You Read online

  “If it's okay with Robin,” she conceded.

  “If what is?” Robin asked from the doorway.

  David executed an expansive wave. “Just the woman I wanted to see.”

  She dropped her jacket on her desk, her brow scrunched in confusion. Her nose followed suit, giving her a wary look. “That sounds ominous.”

  “Does it? Well, maybe for me. I'll be forever in your debt.” Okay, he was laying it on thick, but the banter seemed to have her attention.

  Her brow smoothed. “You will? That will come in handy someday.”

  Thankfully, his quilted flannel was covering his cock. “You game?” She'd been more than game, so far.

  Robin turned and hopped up on the edge of her desk. “For?”

  “Cohosting the family Christmas party with me.”

  “Me?” She seemed surprised but not upset by the request.

  “Left to me alone, there'd be Imperial and nachos for everyone, young and old.”

  She laughed heartily. “No, there wouldn't.”

  “David!” his mother overlapped Robin's protest.

  “No, there wouldn't,” he admitted. “But a family party is always better with a woman's touch in the mix.”

  “Okay. You've got my help, but I intend to cash in on that debt.” Her rocking finger added a subtle threat to the verbal portion.

  “I am yours to command.” His cock seconded it.

  “If it won't be an imposition, Robin,” his mother qualified.

  “I'm honored you'd both ask.”

  David pushed to his feet. “Pizza at your place tonight?”

  “Sure.” Her head bobbed in an exuberant nod.

  “Six? I'll bring the pizza?”

  “Sausage and mushroom?” she suggested, as if he didn't know her favorites.

  David strolled toward the door. “And extra cheese and red wine.”

  Robin clapped her hands. “You, sir, are on.”

  ———

  Robin answered the door, a clipboard in hand. David leaned forward as if to read it upside down, and she held it to her chest, whirled away, and made tracks toward the kitchen.

  He closed the door and followed, setting the huge pizza box on the table. A brown wine-bottle-shaped bag appeared from under his arm.

  “Glad to see you're taking this seriously,” he commented.

  She paused, glasses in hand. “Are you?” She'd been afraid David was going to treat this as a dodge to get more sex in without his family becoming suspicious.

  Not that she minded the sex. At all. Far from it. But she really wanted to host the Christmas party.

  She and Zach had talked at length about asking to host it their first Christmas together. They'd spent countless hours making plans for what they'd do.

  There was little doubt whatever she and David came up with would be vastly different from those plans. Robin was so sure of it, she'd started from scratch, and she'd suggested things she knew would horrify Zach.

  “Well, yeah. I am. It's our first chance to host, after all.”

  First. It sounded so permanent when he phrased it that way.

  Robin grabbed two plates from the cabinet and set them atop the clipboard, then picked it up with her free hand. “Right. And I intend to make it memorable.”

  “Maybe we should divide the work,” he suggested.

  She turned toward him, noting him opening the wine with the corkscrew she'd left on the table for it. “That's what I had in mind.” She set the clipboard on the table then set the plates and glasses for dinner.

  “What's your plan?”

  “Fun.”

  David stopped with the cork halfway out and stared at her. “What?”

  “Fun. You know… Dress the kids in clothes you don't mind them getting messy in. Bring a spare set for them…and maybe yourself. Silly. Happy. Fun.”

  He went back to work on the cork. “It's never been done before. But…how messy?”

  She went back for a beer for him and opened it with the church key from the closest drawer. Just where Zach put it. Organized. Never messy. “The others have cleanup duty.”

  That wouldn't have worked on Zach. The idea of a mess needing to be cleaned up in the first place would have turned him off.

  “Robin,” David warned. “How messy?”

  She bit her lip, searching for the words to convince him. “I figure we'll empty the den out into the bedroom and spare bedroom. Roll up the rug and remove it.” That would leave them with hardwood floors and bare walls. Not too hard to clean up, she reasoned.

  The cork came free with a small pop. “Uh-huh.” He wasn't saying no yet. That was a good sign.

  Time to hit him with the worst. “The bathroom is right across the hall, if any of the really little ones need baths.” The beer in hand, Robin headed back.

  As she expected, he was gaping at her, his eyes wide in disbelief. “Baths?” He took the beer from her outstretched hand, looking like he'd need several to hear her plans through.

  He's still not saying no. “The rest will clean up with a few moppings,” she offered hopefully.

  David picked up the clipboard and scanned his gaze down it. “A turtle sandbox with lid? Why a turtle?”

  “It's green. A blue whale isn't exactly Christmasy.”

  “Right.” There was a moment of silence. “Twine and plastic sheeting.”

  “It isn't what it sounds like,” she assured him.

  “That's good. It sounds like we're either playing sex games that involve cooking oil or disposing of bodies.”

  She grinned, pouring herself a glass of the wine.

  His jaw dropped. “How much Cool Whip?”

  Robin darkened. “It'll be fun,” she promised.

  He hesitated, took a drink of his beer, and nodded. “Okay. Fun it is. Fun is good. You don't happen to have a menu planned for fun, do you?”

  She smiled. “The next page.”

  David flipped it over and started reading.

  Her heart was doing the happy dance in her chest. Zach would have had a stroke at what she planned to do. Her smile dimmed at the realization that she'd enjoy this party a lot better than the one she'd planned with Zach.

  “Robin?”

  Forcing the smile back to her face, she looked up at him expectantly.

  He had one finger of the hand holding the beer pointing at the second sheet. “Imperial and nachos?”

  “That's only one thing on the menu,” she reminded him. “It's fun. It's just not the only thing we'll be serving.”

  “I'm starting to like fun.”

  “Knew you would.”

  Chapter Seven

  December 24, 2009

  “I think the tinsel needs to go…here.”

  Robin stiffened with a squeal and shook the silver strands out of her hair. “David, we're going to spend more time cleaning up than we spend decorating.”

  Smiling smugly, he plucked some tinsel off her shoulder. “Hmmm. Spending more time with you. Maybe I should make more of a mess.”

  A fluttering in her stomach made concentrating difficult. More time? They already spent most nights in her bed, though admittedly after whatever time they spent on the party preparations. They ate lunch together every day—his treat—and dinner—hers. He called her cell from up in the building at least twice a day, making small talk. Failing that, he came down to take coffee breaks with her. And they drove in and out together most days, on the excuse that they'd had less than three weeks to plan and execute the party happening in less than six hours' time.

  “Maybe I'll leave you to clean it up alone,” she teased.

  He scowled, looking like a little boy who'd just been told he wasn't getting dessert. “You said you'd help me host this shindig.” The whine of “you promised” was couched in there somewhere.

  Robin assessed the huge tree covered in precious family heirloom ornaments. Here and there, something David owned accented the rest. He'd even talked her into digging out a few of her own from the attic.
There were at least five generations of marriages, births, deaths, and other family events commemorated in glass, ceramic, metal, and needlepoint.

  The blue satin painted disc she and Mollie had chosen in memory of Zach was squeezed in with the rest, where David had placed it. All around it were happier reminders—Les and Andrea's third baby, a lace and ribbon ornament made from Heather's wedding favors, and more. Everyone's life was moving on, and hers seemed to have stopped with that piece of satin.

  David's arm curled around her hip. “Robin?”

  “Yes, I promised, and I'll help. Even when you make a mess.”

  He hunched down to plant his chin on her shoulder. “So, what do you think Miz Cohost…ess? Is the tree done?”

  She cocked her head to one side, smiling as David matched her. “Except for the star, I'd say so.”

  The star would arrive with Cal. The party wouldn't officially start until he placed it on the tree. Pop Carson took Christmas seriously. Everyone had a job, and everyone took a turn hosting the massive event.

  David moved away, turned his back, and started rifling in the bags of decorations he'd purchased for his first foray into hosting. “Let's see…” He came out with a handful of crisp plastic bags. “Where do we want to hang these?”

  Robin reached around him and plucked one from his fingers. “What—Uh…Oh! Mistletoe.” Heat rose in her cheeks. “There must be ten of them. People won't be able to move without being under mistletoe.”

  “First of all, there's a dozen.”

  “Twelve? How many rooms do you plan to put them up in?” He couldn't be planning to put them in the bathroom, though he might have some strange idea about hanging them outside.

  David seemed to consider that. “Once I hang one over my bed and one over yours—”

  She stared at him in shock. He was planning on hanging one over her bed?

  “One inside the front door and one inside the back. One in the kitchen doorway. One over the sofa. And one in the den. That's not too many.”

  Robin did the count. “And the other five?”

  “At both our houses. That's the full twelve.”

  “Okay. I guess.” She hadn't decorated for the holidays since Zach died, and David knew it.

  It's time to move on. She glanced at the tree. Without traditions of her own, the Carsons' rich holiday traditions had always enchanted her.

  She'd been honored to cohost this year's celebration. Although it was unwarranted, it had given her a sense of permanence…of belonging.

  “Did you buy enough of everything to decorate my place, too?” The question was out before she could make sense of why she asked it.

  David cocked one eyebrow up in amusement. “How'd you guess?”

  Warmth bloomed in her chest. She fought back a smile rather unsuccessfully. “Well then, I guess I better start decorating.”

  “Is that so?”

  She bustled over to the tree and started fussing with the ornaments. “You have a lousy sense for decorating. It's probably a good idea to have me plan the setup.”

  He chuckled. “A lousy sense for decorating? Do I? I never noticed. Maybe it's good that I invited you to co-host.”

  Robin pulled Zach's ornament off the tree, and David gasped in surprise. She considered it for a moment, then moved it to the side closer to the wall. A heartbeat later, she did the same with the other memorial ornaments, scanning for the telltale names and dates they were all inscribed with. A few older birth ornaments and wedding ornaments took their places at the front.

  “There,” she announced. “That's better. Christmas is about happy memories. The not-so-happy… They should be in the background, don't you think?”

  David didn't reply, and her nerves jumped at his alarming stillness. Was he upset at her pronouncement?

  “You don't think they'll mind, do you?” If he did, she'd move the ornaments back.

  His arms circled her shoulders, and he tucked his face next to hers. “Not at all. I think they'll understand.”

  Her muscles unknotted in relief.

  David gave her a gentle swat on the ass. “Okay, woman. You say I'm bad at this. Start telling me where to put things.”

  It took a moment for her mind to dissect that and her sense of outrage to overcome her contentment at the scene. “Woman? Did you just call me—I'll show you where to put something.”

  He ducked the mistletoe she threw at his head, laughing heartily at her mock fury. Before she could concoct her next move, he crushed her to his chest, and their mouths fused in an involved kiss.

  ———

  “A little to the left.”

  David shifted his weight to her left and waited for the determination.

  “Perfect.”

  Thank God. He forced the tack through the white ribbon on the sprig of mistletoe and into the drywall ceiling. It had taken them most of the day, but they'd transformed his condo into a winter wonderland.

  That sprig had been the last decoration. Now all they had to do was clean up and get the last of the drinks on ice. David stepped off the sofa, feeling like he'd spent the day hauling supplies, as he had the summer he'd turned fifteen.

  “That wasn't so bad, was it?” Robin offered cheerfully.

  “Would have been easier to move the furniture,” he grumbled.

  Her laughter lightened his spirits.

  “We're not done yet,” he reminded her. “You sweep while I ice the drinks?”

  Robin pressed against him. “I had another tradition in mind.” She went to work on his jeans.

  “I thought it was a kiss under the mistletoe?” David's lungs were laboring, and they were still fully dressed.

  “I intend to.” She shot him a mischievous smile. “I just won't be kissing your lips.”

  The air in his lungs scorched a pleasant trail in and out, and his cock strained against her hand. Before he could find the words to question her, Robin was on her knees, easing his jeans and boxer briefs down to his ankles.

  David reached out, planting a hand on the wall for support. She hadn't touched him yet, and he needed it. The sampling flicks of Robin's tongue and brush of her lips had his knees threatening to buckle, just as he'd feared they would.

  “Think I better sit down,” he managed thickly.

  Robin wrapped her hands around his hips, as if she could support him if he fell. He eased down, sighing as the cushions molded around him.

  His hips arched up at the first suckling motions against the crown of his cock. It was hard, deliberate…a blinding sensation.

  She rocked back and forth, taking more of him with each dip toward his lap. His mouth went dry, and his senses swam in bolts of pleasure.

  Robin had sucked him before, but always as foreplay. There was no mistaking the difference. This time, she intended to make him come in her mouth.

  Some back corner of his mind crowed in triumph. There was nothing about conceiving a child in this. She wanted him for more.

  Her concerted effort silenced all coherent thought patterns. After that, it was all sensation: her soft lips and her nibbling, her tongue stroking against the veins on the underside of his length, her suction that had him moaning in sweet pleasure-pain…

  The press of her fingers behind his balls.

  Massage.

  David licked his lips. Fractured pleas for more escaped his mouth.

  Oh God! There was no mistaking the gentle pressure against his anus. He forced his hips down, pushing back by instinct. Oh God! She means to—

  His response opened the ring of muscle to her, and her finger slid in to the hilt, teasing at his prostate. David bucked, moving her fingertip against it again…and again.

  It was sublime. Every move drove his cock into her mouth, massaged his prostate, or both.

  He arched his back with a strangled cry of climax. A draining rush of cum shot up his length, and Robin swallowed.

  His roar echoed off the walls. His toes curled in the carpet. His hips jerked, stimulating the wicked littl
e nub in his anus, setting off aftershocks. He babbled out something incoherent, his breath coming in ragged gasps that would hyperventilate him, given enough time.

  His system settled slowly, leaving him panting in the aftermath.

  Robin eased her finger out, and he shuddered in response. She knelt there, staring at him, seemingly uncertain.

  “You sweep,” he croaked. “I'll ice the drinks.” Once I can move again.

  “And?”

  “Do it quickly. That earned you a proper repayment in kind.”

  Her cheeks darkened, and her eyes crinkled in amusement.

  ———

  She was beautiful. Robin was nude from the waist up, in his bed, and they had three hours until people would start arriving for the night. He could spend at least an hour of that right here, before they had to shower and dress.

  Robin forced her breast farther into his mouth, one hand grasping at his shoulder. So far, his plan to make her scream was well on its way.

  “David? Robin?”

  Ice cramped David's stomach, and her nipple slid from between his now-gaping lips. Pop! What the hell is he doing here?

  His mind processed that his father had probably stopped by to check on the setup. After all, David had never had his own place to host the family Christmas party before, and he was a bachelor, Robin's assistance or not.

  She jerked back at the sound of Pop's voice, her eyes wide and wild. A moment later, Robin's arms crossed over her bare breasts and her face darkened.

  David rolled to the edge of the mattress, fished his T-shirt off the floor, and handed it to her. She pulled it on in a rush.

  “David?” That was closer, in the main room instead of the doorway, at least.

  He levered himself up and fastened his jeans over his waning cock. One last glance at Robin revealed her misery.

  It's over. He knew it would end eventually, but not like this. He'd done all he could to keep it from ending this way.

  David strode to the bedroom door, out, and closed it behind him. The hallway to the living room felt like the last mile, and Pop had gone silent, a sure sign that he was putting one and one together and coming up with sex.