Christmas at the Graff

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Christmas at the Graff Page 11

by Kaylie Newell


  He turned to see her watching him. She grinned, and it lit up her entire face. Her cheeks were rosy, and her nose was red from the cold. Her green knit hat was a little too big and drooped toward one eye. She looked like an imp. So different from the perfectly tailored woman who’d sat next to him on the drive up here.

  “I’m having the best time,” she said.

  He grinned back, temporarily distracted by the way she licked her lips. “I’m glad.”

  “This hot chocolate is to die for.”

  “Don’t die. That’s not good first date etiquette.”

  “I’ll try not to.”

  A couple of kids in Christmas sweaters skated by, laughing, pushing each other, and having zero trouble negotiating the ice.

  Frowning, he looked back down at his skates.

  “EJ?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Have you ever been ice-skating before?”

  He glanced over and shrugged. “Sure. Lots of times.”

  “As an adult?”

  He was having trouble lying to her, but she’d know as soon as he stood up anyway. He planted his hands on either side of the bench.

  “No. Not as an adult.”

  Lowering her head, she smiled into her scarf.

  “What?”

  “I’m just used to you being such an expert at everything,” she said. “You’re usually so intimidating.”

  “I’m not intimidating.”

  “You are.”

  A couple skated by, hand in hand. EJ noticed sullenly that the dude was holding his date steady as she smiled up at him adoringly.

  “Honestly?” Jemma said. “I kind of like that you don’t know how to ice-skate. It’s sexy.”

  “Right. Super hot.”

  She scooted up next to him. Even through their jackets, he could feel those curves giving way. Her breath came in soft, warm huffs against his neck, and she rested her hand casually on his thigh, moving it back and forth in a way that said she wasn’t just blowing smoke. For whatever reason, she was turned on. Huh. Who knew?

  “If you think this is hot,” he said, “just wait until I break my teeth. You like the hockey-player look?”

  “I love the hockey-player look. But I love the snowboarder look even more. Come on.”

  Standing, she pulled him to his feet. He towered over her as usual, but on skates even more so. He felt like the water buffalo guy in Beauty and the Beast.

  “Now, you just plant your feet apart like this,” she said, skating backward a little. “Then shift your weight from side to side. It’s like roller skating.”

  She glided in a small circle, and he wasn’t surprised to find she was graceful as a damn gazelle. She came to a neat, prim stop in front of him again and slapped her thighs.

  “Just like that,” she said.

  “Just like that. You make it sound like riding a bike.”

  “You’re gonna do great. Want to watch me skate around once so you can see how my feet work?”

  He didn’t mind watching her skate around once, but it wasn’t to see how her feet worked. More like watching how her hips moved in those jeans.

  Leaning back on the rail, he nodded. “Sure, Michelle Kwan. Get after it.”

  She laughed and pivoted on the skates, her hair tumbling around her face in dark silky waves. She pushed her hat back on her forehead with a gloved hand, and the image seared its way into his heart. Burning and smoking, and branding him while he stood there helpless.

  From a few yards away, EJ noticed a guy watching Jemma appreciatively. From deep down in his most primitive soul, he felt the urge to pull her close and crush his mouth against hers. To show every man there that she was his and his alone.

  But he couldn’t do that, could he? Because they were going to have a “clean break” after this. She would go home, and he’d settle back into his comfortable avoidance of commitment. He’d be unattached and free to do whatever or whomever he chose. Because that was the life he’d wanted for himself.

  The reminder rang hollow, though, as he watched her skate away, her legs pushing outward in small, effortless half-arcs. Her hips, which he’d been eager to watch before, didn’t disappoint, mesmerizing him in a slow dance of female sexuality.

  He leaned against the railing, just like the guy who’d been watching her. And felt a strange emptiness wash over him. Why was it so hard to comprehend opening up to her, or even more, asking her to consider something more than just a clean break? He knew the answer, of course, but it didn’t make it any easier to accept.

  She skated around the lake, the tall, snow-laden trees a perfect wintery backdrop to her tiny form in the distance. He watched her move like she’d been meant to glide over frozen water her entire life. Like she’d done it in another lifetime, even. She skated back toward him, still smiling, her hair now billowing out behind her like a flag.

  Coming to a stop, she breathed heavily, her breasts rising and falling underneath her jacket.

  “See?” she said. “Just like that.”

  There it was again. That casual proclamation. Was it possible she didn’t know how lovely she was, or how she’d been wrong to think he was so fearless? Of all the things EJ had faced in life, of all the dangerous stunts he’d pulled and the stupid risks he’d taken, he was most afraid of more pain. Deep down, he recognized the push and pull within himself. There was a man who wanted more from life, and an abandoned boy who was too afraid to ask for it.

  He waited until she skated close, until she was pressed against him, her body a soft, yielding culmination of everything he craved at that very minute.

  He leaned down and opened his mouth to say something. His lips brushed her hair, and he could smell her scent, vanilla and sugar. He took a breath, but closed it again before any words came out.

  Instead, he tipped her chin up with his fingers and kissed her.

  It was the safest way.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jemma waited, watching as EJ walked around the Jeep to open her door. It was close to midnight. The air was crystal clear, the stars sparkling like diamonds overhead, scattered across a sky so black it looked like a panther’s hide.

  Her feet were still cold from the ice-skating, her ankles and thighs tired and sore. But her heart was full and warm, nearly overflowing with something that felt precariously close to love.

  Love. Jemma shifted in her seat. The word itself was nothing special to behold. Thrown around so often, its meaning got diluted in everyday life. But right now, sitting in this toasty Jeep that smelled of EJ and her own perfume, she felt the ramifications of that word to her very bones.

  She was fairly certain she did love him at this point. As crazy as that was, it was true. All those things she’d always thought to be basic Jemma personality traits—like the fact she was too jaded to fall so hard and so fast—were now standing on end. She was no longer the person who arrived in Marietta all those days ago, with an icy chip on her shoulder and an agenda to tackle before she could go home.

  She didn’t know where that girl was anymore. But there were remnants of her. The fear and uncertainty still remained. And those were the things driving her now. The love part was getting tossed around like it had been hastily thrown into a washing machine on the wrong cycle. All the feelings—the good, the bad, and the ugly—were all jumbled up, until she’d opened her mouth tonight and announced that whatever she and EJ had should be broken off “cleanly.” Whatever that meant.

  Forcing herself to sit up straight, she watched him reach for her door, the Graff a magical backdrop behind him. It was like a movie set, and he was the hero who’d come to teach the heroine to love again. One ice-skating date at a time.

  She was confused, happy, tired, excited, turned on. Everything at once, and all of a sudden, she just wanted to stop thinking for one night. Her determination not to let EJ hurt her would still be there in the morning. So would the precarious relationship with her father. The two things that would eventually pull her away from this sweet li
ttle town.

  EJ opened her door, and she bit down on the inside of her cheek. The pain jarred her from her thoughts. The same thoughts that threatened to take hold and ruin what was left of this perfect night. And she wasn’t going to let that happen. If she had to leave, at least she’d take some good memories with her when she went.

  He took her hand and helped her out, and she immediately felt the warmth from his body. She still hadn’t gotten used to his sheer size, how small she felt next to him. And safe. She felt very safe next to EJ. Something else that turned her on. He really was the hero she’d been waiting for...well, for her entire life, really.

  Bending, he nuzzled her neck. She tilted her head to give him better access, and he kissed leisurely behind her ear. Goose bumps sprouted along her arms and legs until her entire body was electrified.

  “I guess it’d be rude to invite myself in,” he murmured into her hair.

  “Luckily for you, I don’t have a problem with rude.”

  “Good. Then I’m coming in.”

  Moving away, he took her hand again and tugged her toward the door. Her stomach tightened erotically at the thought of what they might be doing in less than ten minutes. Five, if they took the elevator instead of the stairs.

  Inside the lobby, the Christmas lights twinkled. The dark mahogany banister gleamed, as if pointing the way to her room.

  She looked over at the front desk where Bob stood at the computer. He was working late tonight, something that made her inexplicably happy. His constant presence in his cheerful holiday wardrobe had quickly become one of her favorite things about staying here. And there were a lot of favorite things.

  He glanced up and gave her a knowing smile, then winked before looking back at the computer again. He wore glasses tonight, channeling a studious Christmas elf in his bright red turtleneck.

  EJ pulled her close. “Got a thing for Bob?”

  “Who wouldn’t?”

  “I don’t blame you. He’s a sharp dresser.”

  “Bob is my spirit animal.”

  “Bob is everyone’s spirit animal. At least everyone who loves Christmas.”

  Was that her? Did she love Christmas again? She snuggled into his side as they began climbing the stairs. She supposed she’d never stopped loving it. But it had taken this little adventure to uncover what had been there all along. The revelation was like realizing she’d fallen for EJ, hook, line and sinker. There was no point fighting it.

  They got to her room, and she pulled her key card out with a shaky breath. EJ had one hand up the back of her sweater, and the fact that anyone could walk by and see thrilled her.

  They got inside, and the bed was made up as usual—comforter turned down, chocolates on the fluffed-up pillow.

  EJ peeled his jacket off, and her gaze went immediately to his chest. He wore a thin, cotton T-shirt that accentuated his pecs. Her nipples ached at the sight. Oh, dear Lord.

  “Nice place.” He walked over and ran a hand along the bed frame. “Nice bed.” He smiled wickedly, and she felt the blood rush to her cheeks. And other places.

  He stood there watching her. The small desktop lamp in the corner was the only light in the room, casting his face in shadow and making him look dark and sexy. The sheer white curtains behind him were a romantic backdrop, as if they’d been put there specifically to show him off. He was quite the specimen, too. Outdoorsy cargo pants that fit better than they had a right to, the T-shirt that left little to the imagination, and the wild, strawberry-blond hair that begged to have a woman’s hands running through it.

  Just looking at him made her weak in the knees. Made the spot between her legs pulse deliciously.

  But still, he didn’t move closer. Instead, he lowered his head, his gaze heavy and intense. From somewhere deep inside, she understood that if something was going to happen between them tonight, she’d have to initiate it. She wasn’t the one-night-stand type. Never had been, and she knew EJ was aware of that and sensitive to it, and probably needed to know for sure that she wanted this.

  She wasn’t bold where sex was concerned. But he had a way of making her feel like the most beautiful, desirable woman in the room. Even if at the moment, she was the only woman in the room.

  It was because of this that she reached for the buttons on her wool jacket and undid them slowly, deliberately, until it gaped wide open. His gaze dropped to where she wanted it most—to the low-cut neckline of her new green sweater. Jemma had always thought her hips were a little big, her nose a little crooked, her hair just a bit too curly. But she’d always liked her chest, and she knew with a quiet confidence that EJ liked it, too. His eyes grew dark while taking her in, which made her even more eager to please him.

  She took the jacket off and tossed it on the chair in the corner. Then, before she could work up any nerves or think about how this might break her heart in the long run, she peeled the sweater over her head, revealing her new red bra with the low satin cups that she’d splurged on the other night. Her breasts spilled over the tops, her diamond pendant dipping into her cleavage. She felt it moving provocatively there, cool against her skin.

  She heard EJ pull in a breath, and it was the sexiest sound she’d ever heard. So, this was what taking control felt like. Who would’ve thought that just the simple act of undressing in front of a man could be so hot? Of course, maybe it wasn’t with all men. But it was with this one. She wondered what other sounds he might make if she worked hard enough at it.

  Taking a steadying breath, she unbuttoned her slacks, worked them over her hips, and tossed them in the corner with her jacket. Her panties matched her bra, and that almost never happened. But neither did super-hot sex in romantic old hotel rooms.

  EJ shook his head, his gaze raking over her body. “Jesus, woman.”

  A searing heat spread across her cheeks. “Your turn,” she whispered.

  He took his shirt off, but when he reached for his belt, she crossed the room to stop him.

  “Let me?”

  He didn’t answer, just watched her with an expression that gave her chills. His eyes were smoky, his lips slightly parted. She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to take her here, now. Standing up, against the wall, on the bed, in the shower. She couldn’t imagine a place in this little room where she didn’t want EJ Corpa ravaging her. She’d never felt so sexually wanton before, so greedy with lust and need.

  He reached up and ran his fingers along her jawline. His touch sent shockwaves straight to her core. She closed her eyes for a second, reveling in it. And then she felt his thumb moving over her bottom lip. When she caught it between her teeth, she heard him pull in a breath. His skin was warm and rough on her tongue.

  She moved closer, pushing her breasts against his bare chest. He tensed, his muscles going rigid. She could feel his erection against her lower stomach, and the knowledge he wanted her as much as she wanted him thrilled her.

  Reaching for his belt, she unbuckled it slowly, then pulled it through the loops with a soft and satisfying swoosh. She unbuttoned his pants and they dropped definitively to the floor, leaving only his stark white jockeys.

  He pressed himself against her, and the crotch of her panties grew warm and wet with anticipation. He lowered his head and kissed the swell of each breast, his mouth lingering expertly there.

  Her stomach clenched and her breath caught in her throat. Before she knew what had happened, he’d picked her up and eased her down on the bed. The comforter hugged every naked curve, the soft down pillow cradling her head. She leaned back and watched EJ move over her, his arms on either side of her face. His biceps strained with the effort of keeping his weight off her, and she lifted her head slightly to kiss one of his dark salty nipples.

  Reaching between her legs, he pushed her panties aside and slid a finger inside her. She heard herself moan before she could help it. She arched her back, desperate for him to go deeper. He responded by pulling his finger out and nudging her with the tip of his erection. She gasped. His jockeys we
re still on, and she reached down and tugged them away so she could feel his velvety length against her stomach. Her heart thumped wildly against her breastbone, her breath coming fast and shallow.

  She moved her hands over his ass and the quivering muscles there. His entire body clenched as she trailed her fingers lightly over the backs of his sinewy thighs, and then inward to his groin. When she found him, he was thick and throbbing. He lowered his mouth to her ear and breathed hotly against it.

  Shivering, she cupped him until he made a sound deep inside his chest.

  He pushed a hand underneath her back and unhooked her bra in one move that made the pulsing between her legs reach an electric current. The flimsy cups fell away from her breasts, her nipples pebbling as he kissed them. Then he was taking them into his mouth one by one, moving his tongue over them in slow circles. She moaned again and pushed her head back against the pillow.

  He leaned over the side of the bed, picked up his wallet, and got a condom out. She closed her eyes, listening to him open the foil packet, and then felt him roll it on. But when he leaned close again to kiss the side of her face, she put her hands on his forearms and looked up. His eyes were dark and lustful, his curving mouth a work of art. She didn’t think she’d ever laid eyes on a sexier man in her life.

  Keeping her gaze locked on his, she wriggled out from underneath him and pushed at his shoulders, which was like trying to shove at a boulder. He stared at her, but after a second, he understood, then turned and lay back, his head on the pillow.

  She shook everywhere. But swung her leg over his torso as gracefully as she could manage, settling herself on his lower stomach.

  She looked down at him, her hair falling in waves on either side of her shoulders. He reached up and moved it aside, then cupped her cheek. She thought about the fact that these hands, the same ones that were stroking her now, had the ability to heal injuries, broken bones, torn muscles. They were big and capable and strong. She loved it when he touched her like this, like she was the most delicate thing in the world. He had a way of making her feel cherished and loved. Which was a dangerous thing.

 

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