Chapter Fifteen

Lance

"Claus is missing?"

My heart freezes in my chest. My stomach turns.

"He was just napping in the bedroom," Jordan explains breathlessly.

Her fingers clutch the front of her cobalt sweater, right between where damp bunches of her hair cascade over her shoulders.

"I took a shower and when I went back to the room, he was gone. I looked everywhere but I couldn't find him. Please, could you help me look for him? We need to drive around and look for him before the weather gets worse."

I nod. Already, I can feel the wind picking up. The snowfall is getting heavier, too.

"I'll just get my keys."

I run inside the house to get my car keys from my room. Just before reaching the stairs, I stop. A white trail paints the wooden floor.

Snow. Tracks.

"Mrs. Cooper?" I ask.

"Yes?" She emerges from another corridor.

"Did you go outside?"

"Today?"

"Just now."

"No. I've been inside all day. The weather's turning ghastly."

I thought so. Besides, these tracks are too small to be hers.

A child's.

"Jordan!" I call out.

"What's going on?" Mrs. Cooper asks.

She gasps as she sees the tracks. "My goodness. What a mess."

"What's the matter?" Jordan comes running.

She, too, sees the tracks.

"These snowy footprints look like a child's," I point out.

"Claus," she gasps.

"Claus?" Mrs. Cooper asks quizzically.

"You think he's here?" Jordan asks.

I nod. "He wouldn't go out in the snow. Besides, where would he go?"

"Claus is missing?" Mrs. Cooper butts in.

We ignore her.

"But the tracks stop," Jordan points out.

I shrug. "Maybe he noticed he was leaving a trail and removed his shoes. He's a smart kid, after all."

"Plus I always tell him not to get snow on the carpet," Jordan says.

"Mrs. Cooper, you and Jordan search upstairs," I direct. "I'll search down here."

"Okay," Mrs. Cooper answers.

Jordan is already rushing up the staircase two steps at a time.

I start searching as well. I look around the living room first.

Now, where would a five-year-old boy hide?

I check the obvious hiding places first - behind the couches and chairs, under tables, behind curtains. As I do, I remember the time Claus and I played hide and seek.

Back then, we only played two rounds. I hid somewhere easy, first - behind a door - and then he hid somewhere I couldn't find him and I ended up having to call him out. When I asked where he'd hidden, he said he was in a place with lots of books.

The library.

I run there.

"Claus!" I call as soon as I push the door open. "You can come out now."

No answer.

Of course not. We're not playing a game this time, after all. And I'm sure he's still upset about what happened earlier.

He won't come out on his own. So I have to find him.

I turn on all the lights. Even with the large windows, the room is starting to get dark from the worsening weather.

I check under each chair and table, behind each shelf. Then I spot the ladder leading to a top shelf.

Can he climb that?

The speck of snow on one of the rungs tells me yes.

I climb the ladder. At the top, in a lone, empty shelf, Claus is all curled up in a fetal position. His hands grip his shoes. His eyes, still swollen from crying, meet mine for just a moment and then gaze off somewhere else.

I let out a sigh of relief.

"Claus," I start talking. "Thank goodness I've found you."

He says nothing.

"Who would have thought you could climb such a tall ladder, huh? I'm impressed."

The corner of his lip twitches.

"You shouldn't have done it, though. You could have fallen," I tell him. "And you shouldn't have run away from your mother. She's worried sick about you."

"She's angry," Claus finally speaks. "She doesn't love me anymore."

My eyebrows arch. "That's not true, Claus. And you know it."

"She made me say sorry, but I didn't do anything bad."

So that's why he's mad, is it?

I pause as I try to think of the right words to say.

"Claus, I know you didn't mean to put clay on that little girl's hair. And I'm sure it will come off. I also know you didn't mean to hit that older boy. You got mad because he said things you didn't want to hear."

"He said Santa wasn't real," Claus repeats. "He said his dad said so and his dad is always right."

I let out a deep breath. I'd like to give those two a piece of my mind, but it's not really my business. Besides, right now, getting through to Claus is more important.

"What I'm trying to say is that you didn't mean to do anything wrong but you were hurt and you got mad so you ended up hurting others, too. I know. It happens to me sometimes."

"It does?" He finally looks at me again.

I nod. "When you're hurting, you can't stand the pain in your chest, so you try to give it away. But tell me, did it really feel good to hurt others?"

Claus looks away again.

"Your mom told you to say sorry not because you were wrong to be hurting but because you were wrong to try and hurt others."

He falls silent.

"Listen. Your mother is always on your side. She asked you to say sorry because when you hurt others, you end up getting hurt yourself sooner or later. She doesn't want to see you hurt. She wants only the best for you. And trust me, no one in the world will ever stop her from loving you."

Claus meets my gaze.

"And you love her, too, don't you?" I ask him.

He nods.

"Why don't you come down with me and then you can tell her?"

He pauses to consider it.

"Is Santa real?" Claus asks.

"I thought I already answered that question."

"Tell me again."

I touch his cheek and smile. "Yes, Claus. Santa is real. Some people may not believe in him, but to those who do, he always comes through. He doesn't always give you what you ask for, but he always brings you a little Christmas magic."

Finally, those small lips curve into a smile.

"He won't find you if you're hiding here, though," I add. "So shall we go down?"

Claus nods. "Okay."

~

"He seems to be okay now," I remark to Jordan as she emerges from the bedroom across from mine. "He was all chatty at dinner."

"Well, he seems to love Mrs. Cooper's cooking," Jordan says. "And he's thrilled by the idea of sleeping over."

An idea I proposed, saying Mrs. Cooper wouldn't like to be all alone in a big house during a storm. Claus immediately approved of it, and after everything, Jordan couldn't say no.

I glance past the glass door of the balcony. "The storm's here."

"It is," she agrees. "I hope it will blow over soon."

"I hope so, too." I turn to her. "Is Claus sleeping now?"

She nods.

"You should get some rest, too. It's been a tiring day for you."

I turn to my bedroom door.

"Wait," Jordan says.

I face her.

"I want to thank you for everything you've done today," she says. "For what you did at the town hall and for finding Claus and for everything you told him."

I shake my head. "No worries. I'm just glad I was able to help."

She says nothing.

"Have you called Perry?" I ask her.

Jordan nods. "But he can't come here because of the weather."

"I see."

I find it strange, though. I thought he'd care more about Claus, that he'd be more involved in his life. And yet, when Claus went missing, it was I who Jordan asked for help.

Then again, I am just across the street.

"Did you tell him I helped?" I ask Jordan. "Maybe you shouldn't. A father doesn't want his son - "

I stop in surprise as Jordan throws herself at me. Her fingers clutch the front of my sweater. As I place my hands on her shoulders, I realize she's shaking.

Is she... sobbing?

"I was so lost," she whispers into the wool. "I felt so lost today. I've never been so confused or so scared."

"Shh." I wrap my arms around her. "It's over now. You don't have to dwell on it."

"If you hadn't been there, I don't know what I would have done." Jordan looks up at me.

Tears glimmer in her eyes as she repeats the last words.

"I don't know what I would have done."

As those doe eyes gaze into mine, I feel like I'm the one caught in the headlights. Anguish dwells in them, and a plea that causes my chest to tighten. A plea to make the anguish go away.

Right now, there's only one thing I can think of to do that.

I lower my mouth to hers gently. Like two snowflakes colliding, our lips brush against each other and then melt together.

I wrap my arms around Jordan more tightly as I press my mouth against hers. My tongue finds hers and a tumultuous dance ensues. She shivers.

Her hands move to my back. One of my hands grips a firm cheek of her ass.

Her body moves to an inaudible rhythm. Her fingers caress the muscles of my back through the layers of clothing. Her hips grind against me and my cock hardens in my briefs.

I lift Jordan in my arms. She lets out a yelp.

I carry her inside my bedroom, where the fire is already lit. I close the door with my foot and bring her to the large chair in front of the fireplace. I sit down with her on my lap.

Jordan's eyebrows crease. "Are you sure you don't want the bed?"

I grin. "I'm sure this chair will do nicely. Besides, it's warm here."

"I'm already warm enough."

This time, she kisses me first. As our lips collide and our tongues play, I slip my hand beneath the hem of her sweater, all the way up until my fingers find her breast.

I squeeze and she moans into my mouth. Her nipple pokes my thumb.

I give it a slight pinch before letting my hand crawl to her back. It roams across her skin near her spine. It finds the hooks of her bra and the garment comes free.

She pulls the sweater and the shirt beneath it off her head. I pull her bra off her arms and take a ripe breast inside my mouth. She gasps.

As I tease Jordan's nipple with my tongue, I grip her ass once more, first through her jeans and then beneath the denim. When the space proves too tight, I reach for the button of her jeans. It pops out and I pull the zipper down. Then I try one more time.

My fingers dig into a plump mound of flesh. Her fingers rake through my hair.

I pull the waistband down, Jordan helping. Her pants and her underwear fall to the ground, leaving her completely naked.

I pause to admire her body as it glows in the firelight. It's almost as if she's bathed in the flames.

Her palm lands on my face. "Stop staring. You're making me blush."

"You're already blushing." I move her hand away. "Besides, I can't help but stare. You're so beautiful."

Jordan snorts.

I run my hand along her side, from the edge of her breast to her hip.

"The first time I saw you, I thought you were a model," I confess.

"Really? Well, I did do a bit of modeling. Just for a catalogue, though, and some local ads. It wasn't really my thing."

My fingers brush along a silky thigh.

"I'm glad. I don't like the idea of men gawking at you."

"But you like the idea of gawking at me."

I don't answer. My hand continues down her leg as I stare at her breasts, at her belly. My gaze rests on the stretch marks. I trace one with a finger. Jordan looks down.

"I hated them at first," she admits. "But hey, they're scars from the best battle I've ever fought. And won."

"They're like your stripes."

"Yeah. I'm a tiger." She pretends to claw at me.

I lower my head and lick one of them. She gasps and pushes me away.

"That tickles."

"I know."

I continue licking in spite of her attempts to stop me. Her belly quakes as her laughter spills into the air.

When I'm done, she straddles my lap and frowns.

"You're mean."

"I'm mean and you're naughty. We're perfect."

Her eyes narrow. "Oh, I haven't done anything naughty... yet."

She captures my lips and reaches between my legs. Her fingers brush against the bulge in my jeans and it throbs. Heat courses through my veins.

She finds the button of my jeans, then the zipper. Then she finds the opening in my briefs and pulls my cock out.

I break the kiss to let out a hiss. She chuckles.

"You're being very naughty now," I scold her.

She just kisses me again and starts stroking me. With each stroke, my cock quivers and melts. It weeps for release.

But I'm being more patient this time.

I hold my breath as I let her stroke me a few times, then I grab her wrist and turn her around.

"Now it's my turn," I whisper in her ear.

Before she can protest, I turn her head sideways and claim her mouth. My hands cradle the soft curves of her breasts. My fingers rub her nipples. She shudders.

I leave one hand to play with her breast as I let the other slide past the soft curve of her belly and the nest of curls between her legs to where her sensitive bud is hiding. One pluck and she pulls her mouth away from me to let out a loud gasp.

Her head falls back against my shoulder as I tease that nub. Her hair brushes against my ear.

I slide my fingers even lower, to the center of her heat. I dip one inside her and it drowns in her sweetness.

I slip another inside and stroke her. Her gasps keep coming. Her body quivers and arches. Her fingers dig into my thighs.

Then one of her hands wraps around my wrist to stop me.

"Shh," I whisper in her ear. "Just let go."

I continue stroking with her hand on mine. After a few more strokes, her body arches even more, like a bowstring being drawn back. The stiff peaks of her breasts point up into the air. The passage around my fingers tightens and floods.

I withdraw my fingers as her nails dig into the back of my hand. Her moans fill the air.

Then Jordan falls limply against me. I give her a moment to rest even as my aching cock pokes her back.

She seems to have noticed it, because she reaches for it. Her fingers wrap around me and I give another hiss.

She climbs off my lap and kneels between my legs. I feel her stare on my cock.

"Now who's staring?" I ask hoarsely.

Jordan only grins before bringing her face closer to my crotch. Fingers wrap around me once more. And then I feel the tip of her tongue against the leaking tip of my cock.

I shudder.

She gives a few more licks and then takes me inside the warmth of her mouth. My fingers go to her hair.

I tug at the strands as she sucks. I feel the wet coarseness of her tongue against my smooth skin.

As she starts moving her head back and forth, I gather the strands of her hair and throw my own head back. The friction lights a fire in all my veins.

I glance at her and find tears at the corners of her eyes, saliva trickling out a corner of her mouth and her cheeks hollowed and red. I get the sudden urge to keep her head still and pound into that exquisite mouth.

But I'm not that mean.

Instead, I push her off me.

"Enough playing," I say as I push Jordan down on the rug on her hands and knees.

Then I kneel behind her, between her knees. I push the waistband of my pants and my briefs down past my balls. I grip her hips and I slip my cock inside her.

It goes in smoothly, but it's still a tight fit. I hold my breath as I fill her inch by inch and then let it go in a gasp once I'm completely sheathed inside her. She, in turn, lets out a whimper.

I pause and close my eyes as I savor the high of being inside her.

There really is nothing quite like it.

I start moving. Jordan starts moaning. The firelight spills across her back. The heat from the flames envelops us both.

Outside, I can hear the wind circling, whipping against branches and windows. But Jordan and I are caught up in our own storm.

And it's about to become a blizzard.

Quickly, I pull out and turn her around so that she's lying with her back on the rug. Then I spread her thighs and enter her again.

As I continue pounding into her body, she pulls at the strands of wool above her head. Her eyes squeeze shut. Her flushed features twist in pleasure.

I capture her swollen lips one last time as I move my cock in and out of her sweet sheath. Her arms and legs wrap around me. Then she pulls her mouth away.

"Lance!" As she starts shaking, she cries out my name just like she did that first time.

She tightens around me and I am lost.

I try to pull out, but Jordan won't let me.

"It's alright, Lance," she whispers breathlessly.

Just like that, I spill myself inside her with a groan and a few grunts. My cock quivers and grows still.

I don't move for a while. I just stay there on top of her, panting.

Then I pull out. Her limp legs fall on the rug.

When I've regained my strength, I pick her up and bring her to my bed. She falls on top of it with a soft plop. Then I lie down beside her and pull the blanket over us both.

Jordan looks at me. "I shouldn't be sleeping here. Claus will cry if he wakes up and I'm not there."

"Don't worry." I brush some strands of hair away from her cheeks. "If you fall asleep, I promise I'll carry you to the other bedroom."

She smiles. "Thank you."

She stares at the ceiling for a while, then asks, "So Elaine is your half sister?"

"Yes," I answer. "A quite annoying one."

Jordan chuckles. "And you brought her to the airport yesterday?"

"I did, but her flight wasn't until early this morning, so we checked in at a hotel," I explain.

"So that's why you didn't come home."

I lift my eyebrows. She knew I didn't come home? Wait. Did she think I'd left town for good? No wonder she was upset.

"I also have a stepbrother and a stepsister who are closer to my age," I add. "But I don't really know them that well."

"Won't they all be spending Christmas together?" Jordan asks.

"Yes, and my mother wants me to join them, but I refused."

Her eyebrows crease. "Why?"

"Because they're not really my family. At least, they don't feel that way to me."

"Hmm." She falls silent, then suddenly she asks, "Have you ever dreamed of having your own family?"

I shrug. "I wouldn't mind having one."

Again, she falls silent.

"What about your family?" I ask Jordan. "Don't you want to spend Christmas with them?"

"I do," she admits. "Actually, I want to spend Christmas with the whole family, like all my uncles and aunts and cousins, like I used to when I was a kid. But, well, even families drift apart."

I say nothing.

She squeezes my hand. "Hey, are you staying here until Christmas?"

"Yes. Why?"

"I'll have something to tell you then."

"Then?"

Her fingers entwine with mine. "Consider it something of a present. At least, I hope you'll think of it that way."

"Okay."

I wonder what it is.

I plant a kiss on the back of her hand. "I have to say I haven't been excited about a present in a while."

"Well, don't get your hopes up too much," Jordan warns.

I say nothing.

Just then, a strong wind rattles the window. Jordan sits up.

"I better go back to Claus."

"Okay."

I watch as she puts her clothes back on, then I open the door for her.

"Good night, Jordan."

"Good night, Lance."

She goes out. I watch her disappear into Claus's room before going back into mine. Another strong gust of wind blows.

Hopefully, the storm will be gone by tomorrow.