What Happens at Christmas…

by Yvonne Lindsay

  “Stand up and let me undress you,” Kristin commanded.

  He did as she asked and she wasted no time in unbuttoning his shirt and tugging it free from his trousers. Her hands skimmed over his shoulders, his chest and lower to the waistband of his pants. She deftly loosened his belt and unsnapped the fastener, before sliding his zipper down slowly. Her hand slipped inside his trousers, her fingers skimming then wrapping around the aching length of his erection through the fabric of his briefs.

  “Pretty warm, here,” she teasingly murmured against his lips.

  “You have that effect on me,” he admitted, his voice a little strained now as desire pounded in his veins.

  She’d always affected him more than any other woman he’d ever met. He’d only ever had to catch a glimpse of her to crave her. And the view she presented to him now escalated craving into an all-consuming hunger.

  Kristin pushed his trousers to the floor then slowly removed his boxer briefs. His swollen arousal sprang free, and she was quick to take him in her hands again. The sensation of warm skin against skin made him groan in appreciation. She slid her hand up and down slowly, increasing the pressure of her hold and releasing it, driving him slowly insane with lust while she did so. And then she bent to her knees.

  “Kristin, no. Not yet,” he growled.

  But it was too late. She looked up at him as she took him into her mouth and it was all he could do not to fist his hands in her hair as she closed her lips around him, drawing him deeper into the wet, hot cavern of her mouth. He tried his best not to lose it, even resorting to mentally reciting the alphabet backward, but she had tricks that drove him to utter distraction. And when her tongue and lips and the pressure of her mouth sent him soaring, he could do nothing more than allow it to happen, giving in to the pleasure she gave him.

  They finally made it into the bath, their clothes in a heap on the bathroom floor and their bodies humming with satisfaction as they sank together into the warm water. Kristin had twisted her hair up and secured it into a knot at the top of her head. Tendrils of hair escaped the loose confinement and curled softly around her face and neck in the steam that rose from the bath.

  “That was nice,” Kristin said, taking her flute from the side of the bath and having a sip of her wine.

  “Nice?” Jack said with a cocked eyebrow.

  She laughed. “Okay, it was better than nice.”

  “Good. I’d hate to think I’d lost my touch.”

  “Oh, you haven’t lost anything,” she said in reply.

  He drank a little wine and then reached for the bottle of bathing gel that stood on the side of the bath. He poured a little into his hands and beckoned for her to come over to him.

  “Turn around,” he suggested. “Let me do your back.”

  She moved slowly through the bath and did as he said, perching between his legs. The sensation of her buttocks against his most sensitive part made him harden again. She noticed it, too, and wriggled slightly.

  “Behave,” he admonished lightly, enjoying the lightheartedness of being together with her again.

  “Just getting comfortable,” she said innocently.

  “While I am not,” he said on a laugh.

  “Sorry,” she said in a voice that implied she was anything but.

  He laughed again and began to apply his soapy hands to her skin, smoothing them across her shoulders and down her arms before doing the same along her spine. Her skin felt soft and supple beneath his touch, but he could feel her ribs through her skin as he gently massaged her. She never used to be quite this thin, he thought, casting his mind to their past. Was her weight loss deliberate, he wondered, or had the stress of the past year been an influencing factor? Whatever it was, it piqued concern in him. She’d always been slender but she was even more so now.

  He slid his hands up her shoulders and, sensing the tension she held there, he firmly massaged the knots away.

  “That feels amazing. You have incredible hands,” she murmured, dropping her head forward.

  “You’re welcome.”

  He shifted his hands, lightening the strokes until he was skimming her shoulders and back in long strokes again, every now and then slipping under her arms to brush the sides of her breasts. And then, because he couldn’t resist her any longer, he allowed himself to cup her breasts again and to play with her nipples with hands still slick with soap.

  Beneath his touch she moaned with pleasure and he leaned forward to press a lingering kiss to the back of her neck. She smelled divine, a mix of the soap he’d used and perhaps the fragrance she’d worn this evening. Either way, he didn’t care. He just wanted to breathe her in until he couldn’t tell where she ended and he began. Still with his lips on her neck, he used his hands to rinse her skin thoroughly, lingering over her breasts again because he loved to hear the sounds she made as he touched her. And then he moved his hands lower, to the neat thatch of blond hair at the apex of her thighs.

  She spread her legs as he edged closer and dropped her head on his shoulder as he swept his fingertips across her clit. The bath was warm but the heat coming from her core was hotter. Suddenly it wasn’t enough to touch her with his hands. He wanted more. He tenderly eased her away from him and turned her to face him.

  “I want you,” he said, his voice thick with need. “All of you.”

  “I’m yours,” she said simply.

  “Then shall we take this to the bedroom?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Fourteen

  Jackson helped her step out of the bath and followed right behind her. Kristin couldn’t resist letting her eyes rake over his body. He’d filled out some since the last time she’d seen him naked, and she certainly wasn’t complaining. It was very definitely in all the right places.

  Jackson grabbed two thick fluffy towels and, shaking one out, wrapped her in one and quickly used the other to wipe his body dry. Then, before she could do anything else, he swept her into his arms and walked through to the master bedroom. He put her carefully on the bed and unwrapped her as meticulously as a man with a long-anticipated gift.

  Kristin’s skin felt attuned to his every touch. As he stroked her face, her throat, her chest before tracing her nipples again, she concentrated on whatever part of her he touched.

  “You always were exquisite,” he said, bending to kiss her as he joined her on the bed and nestled his legs between hers.

  His words were bittersweet, but she pushed aside the recriminations that continued to hover at the edge of her mind. She’d made her decision to accept his offer of friendship with benefits, and so far the benefits had been marvelous indeed. She looked forward to what came next. She didn’t have to wait long. The hard evidence of his arousal lay hot and heavy at the juncture of her thighs and her whole body ached for his possession. She squirmed against him.

  “Are you going to keep torturing me or are you going to get on with it?” she said, trying to inject a teasing note into her voice.

  “This is torturing us both,” he admitted, reaching for the bedside drawer next to her. “Best we get on with things, right? Then we can take our time after that.”

  She quivered with longing and anticipation as he sheathed himself and parted her thighs further so he fit perfectly right there. He held himself at the entrance to her body, and she could feel him tremble with restraint.

  “Ready?” he growled.

  “More than ready,” she uttered, lifting her hips to him in supplication.

  She felt him probing her and she clenched slightly around his tip before releasing him and feeling his entire length slide deep within her. She let her breath go on a sigh. This felt so right. So perfect. And when he began to move, she met his thrusts with perfect timing. Her body was so in sync with him it was as if the past had simply melted away and they were back to where they’d always been. Sublimely in tune wit
h each other.

  Kristin could feel her climax building. Bigger this time, deeper than before. She rode the waves, letting him take her to the ultimate completion and surrendering to the sensations that overtook her body. Pleasure made her throb and tingle from head to foot. Her arms wrapped tight around him and she shuddered as wave upon wave of satisfaction surged over her. And then she felt him come, too. His deep thrusts sent her body rippling into another, even more intense orgasm. She cried out with the force of it, her eyes closing and her body taut with the rush of fulfillment that swept through her.

  Jackson collapsed against her, his breathing hard, his hands shaking as he took her face and kissed her deeply. She clenched on an aftershock and felt his body mirror her reaction.

  He released her lips and rolled to one side, their bodies still joined, their skin slick with perspiration, their breathing still harsh and rapid. Words failed her. Sex with Jackson had always been incendiary, but this, this was something else entirely. And as she looked into his eyes, still clouded with the passion they’d shared, she knew with heart-stopping certainty that she’d never grown to hate him as she’d believed she had. In fact, the shattering truth was that she’d never stopped loving him, and acknowledging that terrified her beyond belief.

  Jackson raised a hand and carefully pushed a lock of hair off her face.

  “Stay right there.”

  He rose from the bed and went through to the bathroom. He returned in a moment, their flutes and the bottle of champagne in his hands.

  “I think that deserves a toast, don’t you?” he said as he climbed unselfconsciously onto the bed.

  Kristin smiled and hauled herself up into a sitting position, holding her hand out for her glass. Jackson topped it off with more of the sparkling golden liquid. When he’d done the same with his own, he put the bottle on a bedside table and held his glass toward hers.

  “To friendship,” he said seriously.

  Friendship? Kristin swallowed against the sudden knot that had appeared in her throat. What they’d just shared went well beyond friendship. But he’d set hard boundaries. He still mourned his wife, but he obviously mourned human contact and the intimacy of sex at the same time. No matter what it cost her, if she wanted to have at least this piece of him, she had to play by his rules. She raised her glass in a toast.

  “To friendship,” she repeated and drank deeply.

  She’d indulged in pillow talk before but somehow it seemed inane to do that now. Especially when her world had shifted on its axis in the aftermath of their lovemaking. What had started as an idea to scratch an itch and potentially rid themselves of the burning urge to be together had transcended into so much more. To speak lightly of what had just happened between them would be to denigrate its seriousness, for her at least.

  To her relief, Jackson seemed perfectly comfortable sitting in silence with her, taking an occasional sip from the wineglass he held in one hand while with the other he softly stroked the indentation of her hip. She felt dreadfully torn. This was the slow, secluded, private time of lovers, but her emotions threatened to choke her with their magnitude. Past hurts felt sharper, past losses deeper. To her shock and surprise, her eyes began to burn with unshed tears. She closed them briefly in an attempt to prevent their fall.

  She felt Jackson take her glass from her hand.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, concern deepening his voice.

  “Just a little overwhelmed, to be honest.”

  “I know,” he said. “Me, too.”

  She felt him shift on the bed and opened her eyes to see him pulling back the covers. She moved so she could do the same on her side.

  “Come on,” he said, holding out his arms for her. “Let’s get some sleep and let it all sink in.”

  He turned off the lights, shifted to his side and she spooned against him in the dark. His arm curled around her waist, holding her firmly against him and for the first time in what felt like forever, she felt as if she was where she belonged. But she didn’t belong there. This was only ever meant to be a temporary thing. Not a rekindling of what they’d had before. The tears she’d been holding in began to slowly spill down her cheeks, a mirror to the rain that fell steadily outside, echoing on the metal roof.

  She could do this, she told herself, listening to Jack’s breathing slow and deepen as he slid into sleep. She could do it because, even this, knowing it was purely a temporary arrangement, was better than nothing at all.

  Her sleep was fitful and when, in the wee hours of the morning, she felt Jackson reach for her, she turned into his arms willingly. Anything to erase the turmoil of her mind, even if only for a while. They made love several times through the night. Long, slow and leisurely, and hard and fast as if their time together was short and ephemeral. And maybe it was because Kristin knew deep in her heart that she would not be able to sustain this for long. She’d recovered from losing Jackson once. She didn’t think she’d manage to do it again.

  * * *

  When day broke, it was Christmas morning and she felt both energized by their lovemaking and shattered by her self-revelation at the same time. She gently pulled free of Jackson’s hold, taking care not to wake him, and walked to the bathroom, where she picked up their clothing and placed it on the vanity before stepping into the shower. She turned on the faucet and stepped under the spray, closing her eyes and letting the water course over her.

  She felt Jackson before she saw him. Felt his strength and hardness as he stepped into the shower behind her.

  “Merry Christmas,” he said, nuzzling against the sensitive spot just below her ear.

  “Merry Christmas to you, too.”

  “Do you have to race away this morning?” he asked, reaching for the shower gel. After squirting some in his hands, he began to slick it over her body.

  His strong hands moved firmly over her back and down to her buttocks before working their way around to her front, cupping her breasts and working her nipples into aching peaks before sliding over her ribs, past her waist and lower to where her body had already set up a demanding pulse. Her mind clouded, almost forgetting his question as she focused on his touch and what it did to her but she managed to gather her scrambled wits enough to nod.

  “Brunch, at Logan and Honor’s,” she said in a voice that had turned husky with need.

  After last night, she’d thought she’d feel totally sated, but it seemed that even after their lovemaking and the release it had brought her, over and over, she wanted more. No, she realized, she needed more. She needed Jackson—and on a scale that threatened to overwhelm her. She’d spent the past eleven years rebuilding herself from the ground up. She’d shored up her emotions, established her boundaries and erected the barriers that had allowed her to repair her shattered heart and tuck it away in a safe place. And with one night he’d effectively breached every safeguard she’d ever created. She was as open to him and to being hurt by him as she ever was. Could she trust him?

  He’d made it clear he wanted no emotional entanglement. He’d likely withdraw from their arrangement if he knew the turmoil her heart and mind were in right now. Kristin made a decision then, one that she hoped would not come back to bite her. She’d roll with this for as long as she could. As pathetic as it made her in her own eyes, she’d take what he offered for as long as it was available. She’d healed her heart before; she could do it again. And she trusted that he would do his very best not to let her down.

  She let her thoughts focus on the ministrations of his hands as he touched her, letting everything else fade into the background as his fingers gently parted the plump flesh between her thighs and touched her intimately. This was what she wanted. The oblivion he brought to her with his lovemaking. He stroked her clitoris in a tight circular motion and she felt the pressure of orgasm build within her. She put her hands on the shower wall in front of her, leaning forward and tilting her hips so her butto
cks pressed against his groin.

  “I have no protection in here,” he said softly into her ear.

  She shivered in delight as he increased the pressure of his fingers at the juncture of her thighs.

  “I’ve been checked out. I’m clean and I’m on the Pill,” she managed to say through clenched teeth.

  “Me, too. I got checked before I asked you to sleep with me.”

  She bucked a little as zaps of sensation shot through to her very core.

  “Then make love to me,” she all but begged, pressing against him again.

  She felt him adjust himself with his free hand, felt the swollen head of his penis at the entrance of her body. He hesitated, nearly killing her with anticipation, and then inch by slow inch he eased himself into her. It was all she needed to let go. On his first stroke deep inside her, it was as if he’d hit a switch and her body instantly went into a deep state of pulsating pleasure that built and built until her entire being rose high on another plane.

  Jackson wrapped his arm around her, holding her tight to his body as his hips moved, his length sliding in and out, pushing her up, up, up on a scale of gratification that seemed to have no limit. Until, all at once, the sensation burst like a flower blooming, every sense unfurling and spreading until she shook all over and slumped against the wall, barely able to stand a moment longer. Jackson groaned against her neck, his own body rigid with the force of his climax, his legs trembling as they experienced an entirely new level of satisfaction together.

  Water coursed over their bodies from the showerhead, sending tingles through her in aftershock. No one else had ever made her feel like this. Why did it have to be him?

  She felt Jackson pull free and turned around to slip her arms around his waist and tuck herself against his chest. His heart pounded beneath her ear and his breathing was as rapid and fractured as her own. They held each other up like that for a long time. Lost in the wonder of what they’d just shared. Eventually, though, it had to end, and she turned off the shower and pulled out of his arms.