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12 Stocking Stuffers

Page 83

by Beverly Barton, Heather Graham Pozzessere, Catherine Spencer, Diana Hamilton, Maggie Shayne, Anne Stuart, Stephanie Bond, Janelle Denison, Helen Bianchin, Rebecca Winters, Lucy Gordon, Monica Jackson


  She sucked in a swift breath as her nipples beaded against his icy palms. “You’re freezing,” she complained as another shudder ran though her, though she made no move to push him off her.

  Nudging her thighs apart, he settled between that warm, welcoming harbor. “I won’t be for long,” he whispered, gently rubbing his stubbled cheek along her smooth shoulder. His damp hair brushed her skin, and he felt her shiver again.

  “And you’re wet,” she said, her voice filled with confusion.

  “I think that’s my line.” He rolled his hips forward, gliding his hot, male flesh along her slick, feminine cleft, proving his point.

  She laughed huskily, and wriggled her bottom beneath him, impatiently seeking the deeper contact he planned to give her in his own sweet time. She drew a deep breath, and released it slowly. “You smell like rain, and pine.”

  “Imagine that.” Smiling at the puzzled note to her voice, he eased a hand away from her breast, slid his flattened palm down her belly, and threaded his way through silky, damp curls to a greater fire, a more desperate need. Sultry desire drenched his fingertips the moment he touched her.

  She whimpered beneath him, and he groaned, the heaviness and hunger inside him intensifying. “Ah, you feel so damn good, Teddy,” he breathed. Sinking deeper into her lush heat, he plied that tiny nub of flesh, giving her nothing but pleasure. Her breathing quickened, and he had the fleeting thought that he might be crushing her with his weight. “Am I too heavy for you?” he murmured against her ear.

  “Nnnnooo,” she moaned, her legs parting wider for his touch, while her fingers gripped the pillow. She turned her head to glance back at him, but got caught up in the tremors shimmering through her body. He watched her eyes roll back in ecstasy, her lips part, and a long, keening cry rip from her throat as she gave herself over to the erotic sensations.

  Satisfaction swelled in his chest, and he continued to stroke her, slowly, exquisitely, reverently, until the last bit of rapture ebbed—reveling in the fact that this time, she didn’t even try to temper the emotional climax.

  Her unconditional response turned him on, humbled him, even. Wanting to give the same in return, he dragged his palms from beneath her, found her hands, and laced their fingers together at the side of her head. “Lift your hips for me, Teddy,” he rasped near her ear, desperate to be inside her.

  She accommodated his request without hesitation, and he slid into her with a sleek, heavy glide, surrounding her with flesh that was no longer chilled, but now burned with the wild need to possess her in the most elemental way possible.

  Mutual groans coalesced, and his hips began pumping harder, faster. Her fingers tightened around his, and she whispered his name, over and over, a sweet, drugging litany that dragged him deeper into the flames.

  The sensations crashing over him stole his breath. The powerful emotions he felt for this woman touched his heart, overwhelming him, sending him careening straight over the edge of control. Burying deep, he arched against her and rode with the most excruciating pleasure he’d ever known.

  11

  SIGHING CONTENTEDLY, Teddy draped her leg over Austin’s and rested her head in the crook of his shoulder, unable to think of a nicer way to wake up in the morning—making love to an exceptionally sexual, virile man who was as generous with her pleasure as he was greedy about taking his own satisfaction. The delicious, satiated glow spreading through her was something she could get used to.

  Sex had never been a necessity for her, certainly not something she’d given much importance to in her pursuit to establish her career, but she quickly realized it was a matter of making love to the right man. She couldn’t get enough of Austin, the excitement of his kisses, the thrill of his touch, and even the sexy way he looked at her that could make her smolder and burn until he extinguished those internal flames of desire.

  Their sexual compatibility and sizzling attraction was a win-win situation, and though her startling realization last night had scared her on an emotional level, she’d put her feelings for Austin into perspective during the night and decided to handle the situation like any other independent woman would. She’d have an affair with Austin. A simple, undemanding relationship that wouldn’t interfere with the goals she’d worked so hard to achieve, or threaten the unrestricted life-style she’d finally established for herself. A no-strings tryst that wouldn’t give Austin any false illusions about a forever kind of future together. No promises. No long-term commitment.

  Satisfied with her plan, she lifted her head to look at Austin, furrowing her fingers in the soft, curly hair on his chest. His eyes were closed, and he looked exhausted, completely wiped out. And totally gorgeous with dark morning stubble lining his lean jaw. She thought about that roughness against her neck and shoulders during their last erotic interlude, and her skin tingled with renewed awareness. Slowly, she skimmed her palm down to his belly, slipped her hand beneath the sheet draped over his hips, and curled her warm fingers over his semierect shaft.

  He groaned, and grabbing her wrist, he pulled her hand back up so it rested over the steady beating of his heart. “Have mercy, woman. I need a little time to recuperate,” he muttered, eyes still closed.

  She laughed softly, and took pity on his poor, abused body. “Okay, I’ll give you ten minutes, and if you’re still being uncooperative, I’ll just have to climb on top and straddle you while you’re sleeping.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “You’re a shameless hussy.”

  “It’s all your fault,” she said, reaching up to run her fingers through Austin’s still-damp hair, which brought to mind how cold and wet he’d been when he’d slipped into bed with her just a little while ago. “So tell me, why were you all wet?”

  “As you can see, it’s raining outside,” he said, his voice a deep, rumbling murmur.

  She glanced toward the window, watching rivulets of water run down the pane. The soft sound of rain outside soothed her. “Hmm, so it is.” But that didn’t really answer her question, so she rephrased it. “What were you doing out in the rain?”

  The eye closest to her opened halfway, enough for her to glimpse feigned exasperation. “You’re not going to let me sleep, are you?”

  “Nope.” Smiling at his poor attempt to appear annoyed, she stacked her hands on his chest and rested her chin on top. “What were you doing out in the rain?” she repeated.

  Both eyes opened, brilliant green and full of mischief now. “Getting your Christmas present.”

  Her heart flip-flopped in her chest at that surprising announcement. It was Christmas morning, and the last thing she expected was a gift from Austin, especially when she hadn’t gotten him anything in return. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I wanted to.” He brushed a strand of hair off her cheek, his touch infinitely tender, the look in his eyes just as adoring.

  The swell of emotion she experienced for this man at that moment terrified her, and she quickly suppressed it. “What store would be open on Christmas, at six in the morning?”

  He lifted a dark eyebrow. “Well, Ms. Skeptical, why don’t we just go find out?”

  Like a giddy kid on Christmas morning, Teddy sprang from the bed and grabbed the long, cotton robe hanging on the hook behind the bathroom door. Slipping into it, she came back to the bedroom and found Austin sitting on the side of the bed, still naked, and frowning at the garments on the floor.

  He glanced up at her. “My clothes are all wet, except for my costume, and I’m afraid those chaps might be a little drafty.”

  She laughed, though the thought of all that gorgeous masculinity framed in nothing but leather chaps made her pulse quicken. “But oh so sexy,” she said breathlessly.

  “I’d be happy to oblige that fantasy later, darlin’,” he drawled huskily. “But right now, I’d prefer to keep the important parts warm.”

  She tightened the sash on her robe, and extended an offer before she lost the nerve. “Maybe you ought to leave a few extra changes of c
lothes here.”

  His gaze held hers for an immeasurable moment, dark and searching. “Maybe,” he said, his tone completely noncommittal.

  Not wanting to delve any deeper into that subject at the moment, she rummaged through her dresser drawers, withdrawing a pair of light pink drawstring sweat shorts she wore around the house. Turning, she held them out to Austin. “This should work, for now. I know they look small, but they stretch, and they’re comfortable.”

  His expression turned doubtful, but without any other options available, he went ahead and stepped into the snug shorts. Sure enough, the fabric stretched to accommodate his muscular form. The soft pink cotton molded to everything male about him, from his lean hips and tight buttocks, to the masculine bulge between his hard thighs.

  “Wow, the color pink really suits you,” she teased.

  He propped his hands on his hips and glared. “I’m sure your parents would be thrilled to find out I wear women’s clothing.”

  She smothered a giggle. “My lips are sealed.” Grabbing his hand, she tugged him toward the bedroom door. “So, where’s this surprise?”

  “In the living room.”

  She headed in that direction, but before they reached the end of the short hallway, he stopped her, turning her to face him. Uncertainty flickered in the depth of his eyes, touching a chord deep within her.

  “It’s really not much, but it’s something I hope might become a tradition.”

  His words puzzled her, but she didn’t have much time to ponder them. He asked her to close her eyes, and once she did, he rested his hands lightly on her shoulders and guided her into the living room. The scent of pine added to her bewilderment.

  “Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he said from behind her, his words warm and heartfelt.

  Teddy opened her eyes, and gasped at the sight of the Christmas tree sitting in the corner of the room, crooked and fractured in places, but its spirit not broken. The tree was nothing grand, a misfit among Douglas firs, but the sentiment behind Austin’s gesture transcended grandeur. The lengths he’d gone through to offer her this special gift exceeded anything anyone had ever done for her.

  “It’s all yours, to decorate as you please,” he said, pressing a soft kiss against her hair. “And you’re not alone this year. You can share it with me.”

  Realizing he must have overheard the conversation she’d had with Jordan about her childhood, her throat tightened and tears burned the back of her eyes.

  It’s really not much, but it’s something I hope might become a tradition.

  Now his words made sense, the meaning behind his remark teeming with assumptions…and complications. “Tradition” implied something lasting, tied up with commitment, and the future. A custom passed on from year, to year, and shared with loved ones.

  Oh, Lord. While she wanted to maintain a casual relationship with Austin, he’d sailed headlong into forbidden territory, making subtle insinuations she wasn’t near ready to face.

  Feeling suffocated, and unable to think straight, she pasted on a smile, and turned to face him. “This is great,” she said way too brightly. “Let’s decorate it. I’ll make some popcorn and we can string it and put it on the tree.”

  She started toward the kitchen, but he caught her arm, stopping her. His gaze flickered over her face, and she desperately tried not to let her fear show.

  “This isn’t everything, Teddy.” His tone was so gentle, she wanted to weep.

  “It’s certainly enough,” she said, the double meaning escaping on choked laughter.

  He hesitated, his own expression momentarily uncertain. Then his gaze cleared, and his fingers slid from her upper arm down to her hand, which he held loosely in his palm. “I love you, Teddy.”

  Her stomach sank, and she visibly flinched at the words, so sweet, so powerful…so smothering. She shook her head in denial. “No, please, don’t.”

  “Don’t love you?” he asked, surprise etching his features. “It’s too late, because I’m already too far gone. Don’t say the words? I have to, because I want you to know how serious I am about you. About us.”

  She pulled her hand from his. “This is too much, too fast…”

  The beginnings of a frown appeared on his face, exposing a niggling of concern. “I know you told me that you don’t have time for a relationship right now, but I’d think after the past week, hell, after last night, you’d make time. What we have together is more than just an itch we both need to scratch.”

  Her face flushed, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling of being smothered. Of becoming just as accommodating as her sisters-in-law, and her mother. “Why can’t we just have an affair, and enjoy our time together for as long as it lasts?”

  He jammed his hands on his hips, his eyes darkening to a fierce shade of green. “So, you want to use me for sex?”

  His harsh voice sent a trickle of uneasiness skidding down her spine. She’d obviously provoked him, but admitting the truth was far better than leading him astray with false promises. “I enjoy being with you, Austin, but I’ve got a job to think about, and a committed relationship would demand more time than I have to give right now.” Her words sounded selfish to her own ears but, dammit, she cherished her independence, the freedom to come and go as she pleased, without answering to anyone.

  Her mental assurance lacked a certain conviction she refused to analyze.

  Irritation tightened his jaw. “I’ve got my own business to run, and I’m not demanding anything more from you than you’re willing to give. I was hoping we could meet somewhere in the middle.”

  She rubbed her forehead wearily, knowing from experience that it rarely worked out so compatibly. Relationships turned demanding in time, and eventually destructive. She shook her head, feeling torn and confused, but ultimately holding on to the belief that balancing a career and relationship wasn’t for her. “I…can’t,” she whispered achingly.

  “Why not?” he persisted.

  His direct question stirred up many answers, and a whole lot of resentments she’d kept tucked away for so many years. Turning away, she moved deeper into the living room, away from the vibrant heat of Austin’s body, and attempted to explain her reasons the best she could. “It’s taken me years to finally become my own person, to finally break free of my family’s influence. Ever since I was a little girl, my parents have had certain expectations of me. As a teenager, I was groomed to be a ‘lady,’ went to every country-club dance there was and dated ‘respectable’ boys. And when I graduated from high school, my mother set me up with an endless string of potential husband prospects. Every guy I went out with came from an affluent family, and usually after the second or third date my mother was hinting at a wedding. That’s when I broke things off with the guy I was dating, before my mother had the chance to throw an engagement party.”

  Standing by the Christmas tree, she reached out and tentatively touched one of the limbs, trying not to let the sentiment behind Austin’s gift get the best of her. She’d never known a man so sweet, so selfless, yet her misgivings wouldn’t allow her to accept what he so generously offered.

  Swallowing the huge knot forming in her throat, she continued. “All I wanted was to go to college and pursue a career in graphic design, which I loved. All I got from my parents was nothing but grief, because I was too focused on a career when there was no need for me to work. They disapproved of my choices, and ever since the age of eighteen, I’ve been nothing but a disappointment to them.” She glanced over her shoulder at Austin, meeting his gaze and praying he wouldn’t hate her too badly once this was over. “You saw what I went through last night.”

  Something in his eyes softened, and he stepped toward her. “Teddy—”

  She held up a hand to ward him off, wanting him to know everything. One touch from him, and she’d lose all train of thought. “Then there was Bartholomew Winston, who was, of course, handpicked by my father and came with my mother’s full approval. He was a banker like his father and grandfather befor
e him, came from old money, and was wealthy enough to impress my parents. After a few months of dating Bart, I finally gave in to the pressure. I had a ring on my finger, a wedding date set, and china patterns all picked out.”

  “Did you love him?” Austin asked, that question seemingly important to him.

  “No, I didn’t love him,” she admitted, a sad smile touching her mouth. “I cared for him, and I thought that was enough, because he was the first guy who understood and accepted my goals.” She’d learn later that his approval was all an illusion, a way to temporarily appease her. “For the first time in longer than I could remember, my mother and I had a decent relationship. She was in her glory making wedding plans, and I tried to convince myself that I could be happy.” She couldn’t contain the self-deprecating laugh that bubbled out of her. “About three months before the wedding, my parents sat Bart and I down and told me that now that I was getting married to a very prominent man, I should give up this foolishness of having a career. Certainly I couldn’t be a proper wife if I was busy working outside the mansion,” she added sarcastically.

  He stood there, too far away, arms crossed over his wide chest, watching her with unfathomable eyes, listening, waiting. He appeared so patient, so understanding, yet there was something in his stance that promised something a bit more charged.

  She drew a deep breath, and tightened the sash on her robe, not to keep the lapels together, but in an attempt to keep herself from falling apart. “Bart agreed with my parents, when I thought all along he understood how important being a graphic designer was to me. But he changed his tune, insisting that he wouldn’t have a wife who worked when there was no need for her to do so. And so I insisted that he take his ring back and find a more submissive female who wanted to be his keeper.”

  Dragging a hand through her disheveled hair, she inwardly winced as she remembered the fiasco that erupted in her father’s study after her very indelicate declaration. “My parents totally freaked out, but I’d never felt so liberated as I did in that moment. And from then on, I vowed that I’d depend on no one but myself. I moved out of the house, much to my parents’ dismay, and I’ve been supporting myself ever since. I’ve totally disgraced them, but the move bolstered my confidence.” She watched Austin slowly move closer, and her chin rose in a stubborn show of bravado. Unfortunately, her insecurities couldn’t be so easily masked. “I like my independence. I’ve struggled for it. I’ve earned it, and I don’t want to give it up.”

 

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