After dinner, Santa visits and each kid gets a present. The hall is filled with laugher and shrieks of delight.
It’s late afternoon before the last of the kids are gone and we’re finally done with the cleanup. Some of the volunteers are going for a Christmas drink, but Cleo looks tired. She smiles gratefully when I suggest we go straight home.
For the entire drive back to Fitzpatrick Place, Cleo is pressed against my back. The warmth from her body warms me up on the inside.
When we get back to the apartment, she slides off my bike. I take her hand as we walk upstairs.
“You were amazing today,” I tell her.
Cleo shrugs as if it’s no big deal.
“It’s a way to give back. We’re shown all these images and movies about Christmas being about family. The perfect family sitting around at home, Dad carving the turkey, and Mom making dinner. I used to dread Christmas. It reminded me of all the things I didn’t have. At least with a foster kid’s Christmas party, for one day you felt like you belonged, like someone did care. And if I can help other kids feel like that, then that’s the perfect Christmas for me.”
By this time, we’re upstairs. The fairy lights strung around the apartment building flicker, making her features glow softly.
“You’re the most kindhearted person I know.”
Cleo snorts. “Please. I’m a cold-hearted bitch. Ask anyone in the office. That’s why Ethan likes me as his assistant. I’m not afraid to tell people to fuck off.”
She sticks her chin out defiantly, and yeah, there’s no question Cleo can be tough when she wants, but she’s also kind and thoughtful and soft on the inside.
Cleo unlocks the door, and we go into the apartment. I flick the fairy lights on, making the room twinkle.
Cleo slides her shoes off and dumps her purse on the table. She’s tired after the long day, but I’m not missing another chance with her.
I take Cleo’s hand, making her pause as I pull her toward me.
“You are an amazing woman. What you did today, what it means to those kids…” I trail off, not sure how to go on. “You’re amazing.”
She’s looking at me as if she’s unsure that I mean it. And she’s so fucking beautiful that I can’t get my words out. I can’t tell her all the things I wanted to say today. Instead, I pull her toward me and press my lips to hers.
She gives way to me immediately. This time, we haven’t had anything to drink, and she isn’t high on the thrill of a ride. This time, as Cleo kisses me back, I know that this is exactly what she wants.
11
CLEO
Kray’s lips on mine are warm and insistent. The kiss sends tingles down my spine and heat coursing between my legs. My hand wraps around his head, tangling in his hair to bring him closer to me. I need to anchor myself.
Spending the day hanging out with foster kids has been amazing, but it’s also brought up feelings for me—the shame of abandonment, the emptiness that comes with knowing that no one wants you.
I’ve lived with these feelings for so long that they’ve become a part of me. Now I cling to Kray, needing to feel the intimacy, needing to know that someone wants me, even if it’s for only one night.
I press my body brazenly against his and love the power I feel when his hardness rubs against me.
I swivel my hips, and he groans, a deep rumble that I feel low in my belly. My hips rock against him, wanting to make him lose control. And I feel the moment he does.
Kray backs me against the wall, his pelvis grinding into me as he bites my bottom lip.
“Fuck, Cleo…” he moans. “I want you so bad.”
The words are like a drug to me. I want to be wanted by this man. His hands run over my hips, grabbing my ass as he pushes against me.
I hook my fingers under my top and pull it over my head, wanting him to see all of me.
Kray takes a step back, letting his eyes rove over my breasts. I know how good I look with my heavy breasts pressed into the black lacey bra. Sure, I’ve got stomach roles, but I don’t give a shit. If Kray doesn’t like it, he can fuck off.
But he does like it. By the way his hungry gaze runs up my stomach and over my breasts, I can tell he likes what he sees very much.