Page 9 of The Mrs. Clause
Nick
I stood like a villain in the shadow of my windows, watching the street below. I'd been stuck in this position for the last hour, having given up any attempt to pretend that I wasn't on tenterhooks, waiting for Collins’ arrival.
If she arrives.
I couldn't entertain the thought. If she weren't here by quarter past, then I would set out to find her. She had come to me, returned with a request I had every intention of fulfilling. She wouldn't leave me as easily this time.
A car pulled up outside the house. It loitered for a moment that seemed to stretch for eternity, then the door opened and a long, curvy leg clad in dark knee-high boots and what looked to be stockings stepped out.
I swallowed as I got my first full glimpse of Collins. Dressed in a knee length black coat, emerald green scarf and those fucking boots, her hair fell freely down her back and across her shoulders, tumbling this way and that in the breeze. She paused as the car drove away, looking up at the building she used to call home. From this distance I had no way of reading her expression.
Was she disappointed? Confused? Were her emotions as turbulent but hopeful as my own?
She disappeared, stepping towards the door. I turned, heading down to the stairs.
The doorbell rang, and I heard our house keeper answer greeting Collins with over exuberance.
"Ooch lass, yer a sight for sore eyes, ye are." Mrs. Mackenzie embraced Collins, and I watched from the shadows as Collins flushed at the embrace.
"Ye've left the master alone too long lass." She admonished, still holding her close. "He's been a right ogre since ye left."
I stepped forward, intent on shutting down this line of conversation. "Thank you, Mrs. Mackenzie, that will be all for tonight."
The woman didn't even have the decency to blush. "Ye wee wife has returned, Nicholas. See that ye don't lose her a second time." With that advice, she picked up her coat and purse, pressed a final kiss to Collins' cheek and bustled out of the house.
The door shut behind her with the finality of a tomb. The thick doors muffled the sounds of the street outside and kept the warmth in. In the silence, I considered Collins. She met my gaze steadily, the flush still rosy on her cheeks.
"Can I take your coat?"
She hesitated for a moment, biting her lip. The red in her cheeks spread, decorating her neck before disappearing under her scarf.
"Okay."
She turned her back on me, her hands going first to the scarf. She unwound it, setting it on the entry table before glancing at me over her shoulder. I raised an eyebrow, half afraid she was about to run.
"It's just a coat, Co," my lips quirked. "Fear not, I'm not about to ravage you in the hall."
She blew out a breath, turning to face away from me once more, muttering something under her breath. I heard the zipper glide down and reached for the back of her coat. As I peeled the thick material away from her body my cock jumped, thickening to a painful length as Collins pale skin and glorious curves were revealed.
I dropped the coat on the entry table, not bothering to walk the few steps to hang it up. She kept her back to me, her breathing shallow and loud in the quiet of the hall.
My palms itched to touch her, to reconnect with her skin. I ached to glide my lips over her skin, embedding her unique brand of beauty upon my soul where it belongs.
I reached for her, turning her slowly, gently toward me. Her eyes were wide with nerves and a little fear. She'd laid herself bare for me and I had no intention of breaking this woman.
I cupped her cheek, stepping close. "You did this," I ran the thumb of my free hand across her breast, caressing the skin that sat just above the ribbon. "For me?"
She bit her lip, bold and dramatic make-up at odds with the vulnerability in her expression. Finally, she nodded.
"Ah, Cuore mio, how I've missed you." I didn't give her a chance to respond, closing the inches between us to taste that which I'd coveted for far too long.
Home.
The word burst from my soul, branding every inch of my being with its truth. Collins tasted of warm spice, dark chocolate and peppermint candy. Her lips were at once familiar and foreign. Her body felt different, rounder, curvier, fuller. She'd grown into her adulthood, no longer the young wife, nubile and girlish. No, this woman in my arms was Botticelli's Venus, arising from the sea, fertile and dressed only in her artful womanly wonder.
My blood sang as I breathed her in, devoured her with single-minded possession. Her hands clenched at my back, fisting my shirt as she made a greedy little sound, straining to get closer.
Without thought, I broke the kiss, boosting her up and walking her the few steps to the entry table. I swept one hand across the top, sending her clothing, a vase and a decorative knick-knack crashing to the floor.
