December Dance

by Verity Norton

  “Bringing you Christmas.”

  She didn’t know how true that was. She had left her family and come to spend Christmas day with him. She loved him.

  He slid his hands around her waist and leaned down to kiss her lips. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, do you think I can come in?”

  “Oh yeah.” He grabbed the tree out of her hand and pulled it in after her.

  “Where did you find a tree on Christmas day? You must have searched hard.”

  “Not too hard. My family owns a Christmas tree farm.”

  How had he missed that in his research?

  “Lights and ornaments are in the car.” She tossed him the keys as she took the tree and positioned it in front of the window. Two minutes later he was trotting back up the stairs with a box in tow and snowflakes in his hair to match hers. “Where’d you get all of these?”

  “Borrowed. My mom collects them. She has enough to decorate five trees, but fortunately we’re only required to decorate two every year so she rotates ornaments. Except for the pub tree. That makes three.”

  “You decorate the pub tree?”

  “Yep. My Aunt Emily and my mom do it every year.”

  “I thought your Aunt Ivy was the decorator in the family.”

  “She is, but she’s busy decorating the bed and breakfast every Christmas, and taking care of guests, and baking enough muffins and cookies to feed all of Canden Valley for a year.”

  She stopped talking for a moment as she stared into the box of ornaments. They were the wooden ones with a few homemade ones thrown in. She loved these. She loved all the sets her mother had kept over the years. Probably because they were so much a part of her family’s Christmas tradition.

  She set down the hand-carved wooden Santa she was holding and looked up at Chris. “You really didn’t go home with your sister and Sara.”

  “No.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Why?”

  “It must be painful to not want to be with your family on Christmas.”

  He shrugged as if that nullified the pain. But she was right. It was painful. But it wasn’t the only reason he hadn’t gone with them. He’d stayed here alone just in case he caught a glimpse of her. Pathetic, as Joe would say.

  “Shall we?” She motioned toward the tree and together they strung the lights in a circle from bottom to top.

  He hadn’t done this in years. Shelly rarely put up a tree because she always succumbed to pressure and went to spend the holiday with their parents. And he never did because he was a single guy living alone.

  Anne went over to his laptop, pulled a CD out of her purse and popped it in.

  “Christmas music?”

  “Of course. And—!”

  What next? The woman was amazing.

  She was at the microwave now, heating two cups of water for the packets of hot chocolate that she’d brought with her. She’d even thought to bring marshmallows and some of her aunt’s pumpkin bread.

  “You really did bring me Christmas,” he whispered more to himself than to her. “You’re cute when you’re playing Santa.”

  “Ms. Santa to you.” She was beaming as she popped marshmallows into their chocolate.

  How was he going to resist her now, especially when he knew how she felt about him. Even if she didn’t know.

  After serving the hot chocolate and pumpkin bread, she started in on the ornaments, pulling each one from the box and handing it to him to hang. When only a few sips of chocolate had been consumed, and only six ornaments hung on the tree, he grabbed her around the waist from behind and leaned down to kiss her on the neck.

  “I’m not sure I can resist you any longer,” he whispered.

  Smiling, she turned in his arms and found his mouth with hers. When she finally came up for air, she said, “Good thing because I was afraid you were going to refuse to accept my gift.” She gave him a sultry look. “Or return it.”

  He shook his head, his hand caressing her cheek and landing on her neck as he brushed her hair back over her shoulders. “Oh, I plan to return it, gorgeous. With my gift for you.”

  Her smile lit up her eyes. “You don’t have to offer twice.”

  “Didn’t think so. Now there’s only one question. Who’s going to unwrap their gift first?”

  “How about we open them at the same time?”

  He didn’t bother to answer. He simply reached for the buttons on her sweater and started unbuttoning them top to bottom.

  Anne sighed as she felt his hand against her skin. It was finally happening. They were finally going to make love. She’d only known him a few weeks, but somehow she felt as if she’d been waiting for this her entire life. For him. She reached up and grabbed his hand, pressing it against her breast.

  Chris understood her impatience. He pushed her sweater over her shoulders and off. His sigh was ragged when she grabbed his sweater to pull it over his head. Then before he had a chance to, she had reached behind her back to unfasten her bra.

  He stared down at her gorgeous breasts that were begging to be touched. He responded to their request, happily, both of his hands caressing them. Her head fell backwards as she savored his touch. He didn’t know who was more turned on at that moment. All he knew was that neither one of them would be exhibiting much patience.

  “Bed,” she whispered. “Now.”

  He nodded and backed up until he was against the bed. With one light push of her hand, he was lying there with her smiling down at him. Then she was unclasping his jeans and pulling down the zipper. He helped her by edging them over his hips and off. She stood there staring at him, with what he hoped was an appreciative expression on her face. It was more than that, he determined from the hunger in her eyes. She quickly eased her own jeans off and crawled on top of him.

  “I want you inside of me,” she said, her voice raspy with desire.

  “No foreplay, gorgeous?”

  “I think the past few weeks have been more than enough foreplay,” she answered, easing herself upward to straddle him.

  He couldn’t argue with that. He wasn’t even sure he could have risked any foreplay, not with his throbbing erection ready to take her. But before she could take him inside of her, he rolled her over so he was on top of her. So far, she had been the aggressor in this relationship. It was his turn now. Her legs opened for him and he eased inside of her easily. She was ready for him, wet for him, wanting him.

  Their moans were harmonious as he slid back and forth, pushing into her until they were fully merged. “Oh my God,” he whispered, savoring the feel of being completely inside of her, then easing out again.

  He could feel her passion heightening as he drove in and out, her breath short and erratic.

  “Oh, God. You feel so good. I knew you would. I knew you would make me feel like this.”

  “Like what?” he asked, his pelvis pounding against her.

  “Like nothing I’ve ever felt before,” she whispered.

  “Never?”

  She shook her head furiously, her legs engulfing his hips and pulling him more tightly against her. “Never like this. Never this good.”

  He knew what she meant because never in his life had he felt like this. Never had he wanted someone so much. Never had he loved someone.

  And then she was crying out, her hips raised up so she could meet him thrust for thrust. And an instant later, he allowed his own release to come, emptying himself into her, giving her everything he had to give. His heart, his soul, and now his body.

  It wasn’t until they were both satiated, lying side by side that he thought to ask, “Are you on birth control?”

  She laughed against his chest, her mouth happily running kisses of affection up and down his torso. “Now you ask.”

  “Sorry, I was a bit distracted.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah, so are you?”

  “Definitely.”

  He felt a slight twinge of disappointment, but wouldn’t let
her see it. There was nothing he wanted quite as much, he realized, as to have a child with her. But that was a discussion for another day, a far-into-the-future day.

  A moment later she had slipped out of his arms and pulled her panties back on. He didn’t even try to hide his disappointment. “That’s it? You have your way with me and run off?”

  Anne laughed as she headed for his dresser and opened the third drawer. Good guess, she thought when she found the stack of T-shirts. She selected a navy blue one and pulled it over her head. Then she strode across the room, scooped up his jeans and tossed them at him. “I just can’t lie in bed staring at a naked tree.”

  Chris slid out from under the covers and pulled on the pair of jeans and went to help her finish decorating his tree. They hung several more ornaments. He couldn’t resist pulling out his camera and snapping a few shots of her. But when she stood there, her back to him, holding up an angel, he set down the camera.

  His hand engulfed hers in his as she deliberated where to hang the angel on the tree. It was a romantic gesture, and he’d had an impulse to do it. She held the position, and he could feel her savoring the moment just as he was.

  Their movement was subtle, a gentle rocking motion back and forth to, “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” He closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling the scent of her, not only lilac now but evergreen. It’s where she had been spending her time the last couple days he would have bet, helping out at the family’s Christmas tree farm. He wondered if she served hot chocolate or tea and cookies or took people’s money. No, he decided. She probably helped carry their selected trees to their cars. He could imagine helping out too, maybe next year. A perfect way to spend the holiday, helping others prepare for theirs.

  “What are you thinking about?” she asked, hanging the angel and turning in his arms.

  He smiled down at her. “You.”

  “What about me?”

  “Just wondering what you were doing the last couple days.”

  “Wrapping presents, helping out at the tree farm. What about you?”

  “Putting together gifts.”

  “What gifts?”

  “A dining room set and a ballet barre.”

  “Oh! Sara will love that!”

  “And framing some pictures.”

  “Pictures?”

  Reluctantly he released her and went over to his closet to retrieve the photographs he had framed. “Your Christmas gift.”

  She was beaming like a little girl. “Really? Turn them around.”

  The first was of her being raised into the air by Denny. The second was one of her flying after he had thrown her. It was the one he planned to use for his book cover.

  She shook her head, her eyes gleaming. “They’re incredible.”

  “You’re incredible.”

  “Did you use one of these for the magazine cover?”

  “Uh, no, but I’m thinking of using one for the book cover.” He pointed to his choice.

  “Where’s the one you used for the magazine?”

  He winced but quickly hid it behind a smile. “You’ll see it soon enough. There are two more.”

  She set down the two frames and took the one he was holding out to her. It was a photograph of Anne with Sara hugging her around the waist, Sara’s head back as she looked up at her in adulation. The little girl looked gorgeous with her light brown hair pulled up in a pony tail and her chocolate brown eyes warm and smiling.

  “Oh! It’s wonderful! But you should really give this one to her.”

  “I did—will. I framed three of them. One for each of you and one to send to her paternal grandparents.”

  She kissed him softly on the cheek, her eyes watering slightly. “And this one?”

  He turned it around for her to see.

  “Oh, my!” She stared as she pulled it out of his hands. “When did you take this?”

  “That day your father came to pick up Sara to take her riding.”

  She looked from the photograph of her hugging her father to the photographer’s face. “You’re really an amazing artist, Chris. You tell stories by capturing people at the perfect moment.”

  “You mean the story of how much your father loves you and how much you adore him?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “It wasn’t too hard.”

  “You were watching us closely.”

  “Just enjoying a precious moment—a father-daughter show of affection.” Something his sister had never had. Something his niece would never have.

  Anne detected a hint of sadness and envy in his voice, reminding her to appreciate her family.

  “Thank you. Thank you so much. I’ll treasure these.” Then she frowned and he expected her to add something about long after he was gone. He was surprised when she said, “But I don’t have anything for you. Other than—you know.”

  He took the photograph she was holding and propped it against the wall beside the others. “You brought me Christmas, a perfect Christmas.”

  “Perfect?”

  “The best one I can remember.”

  “Well, I suppose I should take some credit for feeding you.”

  “Absolutely. Hot chocolate and pumpkin bread. What more could anyone want?”

  “The best turkey and gravy in Canden Valley? Mashed potatoes, candied yams, three kinds of stuffing, mashed carrots and turnips, homemade cranberry sauce and homemade pie?”

  “Sounds pretty good. Is that what you’ll be eating for Christmas dinner?”

  “It’s what we’ll be having.”

  “We? but—”

  “You can’t say no. They’re already setting a place for you.”

  Chris blinked hard against the moisture forming in his eyes. “Then I definitely won’t say no, but do I have to eat the mashed carrots and turnips?”

  She punched him lightly in the stomach. “You wouldn’t want to insult my Aunt Lana, would you?”

  “Definitely not. Especially if she has as powerful of a right hook as her niece does.”

  “More powerful. She’s a school principal. But don’t worry, they’re really delicious. A lot better than they sound.”

  “Okay, I’ll try them. When?”

  She glanced at the clock on his night stand. “Two hours, if we’re going to help at all with the setting up.”

  “Perfect. That should give us plenty of time to—”

  “Finish decorating the tree?” she teased, then seeing the wry smile on his face, added, “Not quite what you had in mind?”

  He reached for her hand and pulled her toward the bed. “Definitely not what I had in mind.”

  “Ah, now that you’ve had a taste—your thirst is unquenchable?”

  “Something like that. But it’s your fault. You look too damned sexy in my T-shirt.”

  “Right back at you. You look damned sexy in nothing but your jeans.” Her hand found the clasp and unfastened them and inched toward his zipper.

  He caught her hand in his and whispered. “We’ll go slowly this time.”

  She gazed into his eyes, hers feeling as misty as his looked. “Definitely slowly this time.”

  Chapter 26

  Chris stopped breathing when her hand folded around him. When she began stroking him back and forth, he knew he wouldn’t last long. “If we’re going to go slowly, this isn’t such a good idea,” he said.

  “Sorry.” Her smile reflected anything but sorrow as she continued to torture him.

  “Vixen,” he whispered, removing her hand from inside his jeans. Before she could protest, he pulled them off and this time pushed her onto the bed.

  She reached for the bottom of her T-shirt, but again he stopped her. “Un uh.” He slid his hand beneath the shirt and upward to caress her breasts, one at a time.

  She lay on the bed, her eyes closed as she gave into the pleasure of his touch. A moment later, he had pulled her shirt up and off and then her panties had vanished. So much for slowly, she thought. She was as ready for him as she’d been
the first time.

  Again she reached for him, but he pulled away. He was throbbing with desire for her, and it would only become painful if she touched him. As she had said, too much foreplay over the past few weeks. And too many nights of lying awake wanting her, dreaming of her, making love to her in his mind.

  He slid his hand up and down her legs softly, enjoying the vision of her becoming aroused by his touch. She swayed beneath his hand in a dance of pleasure which soon became more and more demanding.

  “I want you inside of me.” She opened her eyes to meet his.

  He shook his head. “Slowly, remember?”

  “Not fair. You’re touching me, but you won’t let me touch you.”

  “We didn’t say anything about fair.”

  “Yeah, well did we say something about torture?”

  He smiled down at her as his hand reached the top of her legs. “You’ve been torturing me for three weeks. It’s my turn.”

  She groaned but it soon turned to a gratified moan as he slid two fingers inside of her, teasing and tempting her into a different dance, this one with her pelvis raised to meet his hand in an attempt to control him. But he didn’t give up control easily, not when he was enjoying being the one who had it for a change.

  Keeping his hand in position to pleasure her, he leaned down to suck her breasts, first one, then the other. She grasped the back of his head as she raised herself off the bed to encourage him. “Oh, God, I want you so much. I can’t take anymore,” she cried out just as he felt her convulsing around his fingers.

  His movement grew faster, pushing against her pleasure spot as she became lost in the heat and the moment. When she stopped moving and relaxed onto the bed, he slowly released his mouth from her breast and slid his fingers out of her.

  Her eyes were glazed over when she opened them to meet his. “What was that?” she whispered.

  “That was you coming,” he said calmly.

  “I know, but what the hell?”

  “What the hell?”

  “I mean, I’ve never come like that.”

  “No? Why do you think that is?” He knew but he was going to let her find the answer.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t you?”