She scowled, realizing what she’d just said. “Of course not, because there’s not going to be a wed—” She sighed and drifted into a state of delirium as he unbuttoned her green satin blouse, sliding it over her body, tantalizing her skin with the soft fabric.
“Even more slowly this time,” he said, his voice husky with emotion and desire. “I want to touch every inch of your body. I want to make love to every inch of you.”
“Don’t know if I can handle that,” she whispered.
His breath caused her neck to tingle with desire. He trailed hot kisses the length of her neck and down her shoulder and arm to her fingertips. She was gasping for air by the time his mouth found its way to her belly and eased upward when he unclasped her bra to free her breasts.
“Mmm, I’m going to enjoy this.”
“What?” When she heard the mischief in his voice, she opened her eyes to see his face. “Touching me?”
“Torturing you.”
She grumbled, but lay back down on the bed and surrendered to the painful pleasure he was causing. He unzipped her black slacks and, along with her panties, pulled them off. Then he knelt beside her and reached for one of her feet.
“You don’t have a foot fetish, do you?” she heard herself whispering as he caressed her foot, focusing on her arch.
“Not until I saw your feet dance. They’re beautiful.” He roamed upward to massage her calves, gradually working his way up her thighs, enjoying the muscular dancer’s body that he had been studying for so long now.
When his mouth joined his fingers, she cried out, protesting that she couldn’t wait any longer. “Now, please. Now!”
“Now, what?”
“I want to feel you inside of me.”
“Relax, we’ll get there.”
“Relax?” She started to sit up, but he pushed her back down with one hand, teasing the inside of her legs with his tongue.
And then he eased upward, kissing her most intimate spot and indulging his tongue in the sweet taste of her. She moved with him, finally giving up complete control and allowing him to do what he wanted. She moaned as her pelvis rose and circled to enjoy the intimate lovemaking, finally crying out with complete abandon.
“That—” Her voice caught as she tried to find her breath. “That was incredible. Oh, my God, I’ve never—”
Chris rested his mouth against her belly, elated when he heard her confess that she’d never come that way. It was the second time he’d given her a new experience. He had to admit he was surprised. Had the men she’d been with been into only one way of making love? Or had she only allowed them to make love to her one way? A question for a later time, he decided.
“Come here,” she begged.
“Why?”
“I want to touch you.” She felt immense satisfaction, just holding him in her hand. Besides, it was his turn to be tortured. Her turn to be in control.
What was it about him? She’d never let men touch her the way he did. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy men touching her. And she loved sex. Especially with him. But she’d never allowed anyone to be quite as intimate as he’d just been. And she’d never allowed herself to lose control as she did with him.
Chris pulled off his shirt and slacks, and tossed them aside. He stretched out beside her. She could do whatever she wanted, he thought. Anything. He was hers. All of him.
Anne reached for him, stroking and caressing him. It was different than it had been with other men. It wasn’t just about control. It was about pleasure. And intimacy. And wanting to be so close to someone that they became one with you.
She closed her eyes in an effort to hide from her own thoughts.
“Not gonna last much longer,” he whispered.
Anne opened her eyes and smiled, letting go of him. But not for long as she slid down his body so she could take him into her mouth.
Chris gasped for breath as he protested. “Definitely . . . not going to . . . last—Oh, God! Stop!”
But she didn’t stop. She licked and sucked and tasted his entire length, luxuriating in the feel of him as he had done to her. He knew he was on the verge of coming. He didn’t want her to—
He reached down and pulled her away from him. Before she could protest, he rolled her onto her back and slid inside of her. Throbbing, he thrust his full length into her. Then he rocked back and forth, stroking her.
He could hear her breathing accelerate, or maybe it was his. And then they were moaning and crying out, grabbing each other as tightly as they could. He felt her nails go into his back as she released a full-on scream, and he savored the pain they caused.
Satiated, he rolled off of her and onto his back. She was still struggling for breath.
“Wow,” was all she could say.
“That would be the one to beat.”
“Give me five minutes and we can give it a try.”
Chris laughed. “Maybe you can. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to walk again.”
“That is a problem.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I think I could manage just lying here in bed with you for the rest of my life.”
Despite the words he had just spoken, Anne’s body that seemed to have a mind of its own, rolled onto its side and snuggled up against the man with whom she had experienced a oneness she had never felt before. And one she would deny ever having felt.
Chapter 28
“Have a good night?” Aidan asked when Anne pushed open the backdoor to the kitchen.
“Of course she did,” Allie offered. “It’s called make-up sex.”
“How do you know?” Aidan asked.
“She spent the whole night with him, dummy.” She bopped her brother on the head. “Christmas night.”
Anne did not give them the satisfaction of a response, instead grabbing the orange juice from the refrigerator and pouring herself a glass. She gulped it down and trotted up the backstairs to her bedroom where she yanked off her dressier outfit from the night before and took a quick shower. After drying off, she hopped into a pair of jeans, a white turtleneck, and the lavender sweater her sister had given her for Christmas. Her purse that she’d left at the pub the night before was sitting in the middle of the bed. She found her makeup, applied a small amount to her lips and eyes, snatched up the purse, and trotted back down the stairs.
“Aren’t you going to open your gifts from the family?” her mother’s voice said as she was gliding toward the door.
“Hi, Mom. I’ll open them later.”
“Later?”
“Un huh. See you.”
“Don’t we get a hug?” her father asked.
Anne groaned and crossed the room to hug her parents before bolting for the door again.
“Don’t you want to know what everyone was talking about after your caveman dragged you off last night?” Aidan asked.
She glared at her little brother. “Not really.”
“She already knows,” Allie said.
“Of course she does,” Nan said. “So, how was the rest of your Christmas?”
Anne scowled at her mother, something she didn’t do often. “Fine.”
“Just fine?”
“If you guys don’t lay off, I may not come home again. Ever.”
Nan smiled and Grant laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“You’d never not open your presents. Curiosity if nothing else,” her father said.
Damn, he was right. “Okay, but knock off the teasing, will you?”
“Promise,” Grant agreed.
“Good.” She walked back to the door, but before she opened it, she turned around and asked, “So, how bad was it?”
“Bad,” Aidan said.
“Not that bad,” Allie said. “They stopped talking about you and your caveman by . . . around midnight, wouldn’t you say?”
Anne pushed open the door to escape these annoying people. By the time she got back to the apartment, Chris was showered and dressed and on the phone. He winked and motione
d for her to sit down as he paced back and forth in front of the window.
Anne listened attentively to one side of the conversation. “I’m sorry, honey . . . Pretty much every year . . . Shit! . . . I’m sorry . . . It does sound worse.” He cleared his throat and bit down on his lower lip as if stopping himself from saying something, but all he asked was “Why?”
He listened for a while, groaned, sympathized, and finally laughed. The conversation shifted when he defended against what sounded like a scolding. “It was purely selfish. I’m tired of sitting on rickety old chairs and eating off of chipped plates.” He laughed again. “You can beat me up when you see me . . . ” He glanced at Anne. “Don’t know. I’m kind of preoccupied at the moment.”
Anne knew his niece had snatched the phone when Chris said, “You’re very welcome, munchkin . . . I love you too.” He chuckled, and ended the conversation with, “I’ll tell her.”
He joined Anne on the window seat where she was sitting and pulled her onto his lap. “Missed you,” he whispered.
“You’re lucky I didn’t make you go with me to face the mocking crowd.”
“That bad?”
“Not nearly as bad as your sister’s Christmas sounded. What happened?”
Chris sighed. “She got stuck fighting my battles. Damn, I should have gone just to protect her.”
Anne’s heart warmed at that image. “It sounds like it would be better for her not to go at all.”
“An argument I lose every year.”
“Tell me more.”
“Oh, my father just kept harping on my chosen career as usual, only this time he tried to pressure her into convincing me to move back and go to work for the family firm.”
“What did she do?”
“She gets a little tongue-tied when it comes to my father.” He chuckled. “Fortunately Sara came to her rescue. She overheard the conversation and asked him why he’d want me to quit my job when I love it so much and I’m so good at it.”
“Good for her.”
“She’s a tough one. She even asked him, ‘Don’t you want Uncle Chris to be happy?’ Oh, she said to tell you hi and Merry Christmas by the way.”
“She’s sweet.”
“Yeah, she is.”
“You’re crazy about her.”
“Yeah, I am.”
Anne suddenly felt a deep sadness wash over her. She wasn’t sure what it was about, but it had decided to settle in the pit of her stomach.
“You okay?” Chris asked.
“Yeah, I drank some orange juice, probably not a good thing on an empty stomach.”
“Want some breakfast?”
“That would be good.”
“Homemade?”
“Can you cook?”
“Not well.” He took her hand and led her to the door. “But don’t worry, I’ll get better so that when we’re married I can make you breakfast every morning.”
“You’re going to do the cooking?” She bit her tongue. Damn him. Not this again. “Don’t bother. We’re not getting married.”
“Oh, yeah, we are, so you’d best get used to the idea.”
She yanked her hand from his and trotted down the stairs and headed for the book café. “Shut up and feed me.”
“Your wish is my command, my love.”
She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and whirled around to face him. “Then I command you to knock off the marriage talk. And stop calling me your love.”
He grinned and she wanted to wipe it off his face. “Any wish but that.”
She was practically growling by the time they found a table and put in their order. “What do you want to do for the rest of the day?” she asked, hoping to distract him.
“Well, we could go back upstairs and spend the rest of the day in bed.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“And maybe drive out to your family’s ranch.”
“Why would we do that? I’ve been subjected to enough teasing for one day.”
“I haven’t really seen all of their property. I thought you could give me a tour. On horseback. And we could see how Alex and Cassie’s house is coming along.”
“If we bypass the farmhouse, we can do that.”
“Deal. It’s an amazing place. You’re lucky to have grown up there.”
“I know.”
“It would be a great place to raise children.” He took her hand and pressed it to his lips.
Anne felt the warmth flood through her veins, but then she realized exactly where this was leading, and she pulled her hand from his, placing it on the ache in her stomach. “It would never work, Chris.”
It wasn’t hard for him to figure out that she’d followed his train of thought. “Why not?”
“Because it’s obvious, you want kids. You’re great with kids. You’ll make an amazing father.”
“So, isn’t that a point in my favor?”
“I don’t want kids.”
Chris didn’t believe her for a minute, but he encouraged her to continue. “Why not?”
“I’m too selfish to have kids. I want to dance.”
“I’ll take care of them.”
She raised a single eyebrow. Of course he would. “Maybe you can take care of them, but you can’t exactly carry them for nine months.”
She had him there. “We’ll adopt,” he said.
Anne groaned and shook her head. The man was going to drive her crazy. The worst part of it was, she enjoyed being with him so much that she wasn’t sure she minded.
He was impressed with her skill on the back of a horse. He shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, according to Nick, all of the cousins had been raised on the back of a horse, particularly those who grew up on the McCullough-Jameson horse ranch.
It was a perfect day for riding. There was no snow, not even evidence of the snowflakes from the day before, only the chill it had left behind.
“You’re not bad,” Anne told him when they slowed their horses near Cassie’s and Alex’s house that was little more than a foundation at this point. “For an English rider.”
“Gosh thanks. I have done a little western riding so I’m not a complete failure as a cowboy. What a setting they chose. It’s going to be amazing.”
“Yeah, their favorite spot, overlooking their meadow and pond.”
“Whose property?”
“We’re not sure. We think it’s partially on Callahan land and partially McCullough land. But really, it’s all Cassie and Alex.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s where they made love for the first time.”
“Alex told you that?”
“No way. Cassie did. Romantic, isn’t it?”
“Very. So where’s your favorite spot on this incredible property?”
Anne pointed away from the Callahan ranch, toward her Uncle Nigel and Aunt Ivy’s property.
“What’s over there?”
“Come on, I’ll show you.”
They guided their horses along a trail that took them to the edge of a creek surrounded by pine trees with just enough deciduous trees to treat them to an authentic autumn. The minute she stopped her horse, he understood. It had its own special feel, this spot beyond her grandparents’ home toward the back of the land.
“It’s beautiful,” he whispered as they stood together, staring down at the clear creek that kept the rocks clean with the force of its water. “Like you.”
She dismissed his compliment with a gesture of her hand, but before she could walk away, he caught her by the waist and turned her to face him. “Is this where you want to build our house?”
Anne stared into his chocolate brown eyes that she had adored from the moment she’d first seen them. For a moment she allowed herself to become caught up in an incredible dream of actually getting married some day and building a house on her family’s magical property just like her brother and Cassie were doing, and Sean and Sophie had done. And Skye and Nick would be doing.
But then she remem
bered, and she turned her gentle gaze into a glower.
“Okay, so maybe you don’t want to be that close to your family.” Chris stepped back slightly as if her eyes were piercing him with daggers. “We could buy some non-McCullough land. There’s some for sale in the valley or even further away if you prefer, halfway between here and Winslow maybe . . . ”
“Are you trying to ruin a perfectly pleasant afternoon?”
Chris shook his head and stepped closer again, his hands still gripping her waist. “No, beautiful. I’m trying to get you to agree to marry me.”
She shoved his hands away and headed back to her horse, mumbling, “Not gonna happen.”
“Maybe not today,” he said. “But some day. Soon.”
“Ha!”
“Have you forgotten, I don’t take no for an answer?”
She cringed and would have kicked herself in the ass if it were physically possible. After all, she was the one who had put that concept into his mind in the first place.
She spent the rest of the week with him. She was trying to prove her theory correct. It had always worked before. Why wasn’t it working with him? Even worse, it was having the opposite effect. The more time she spent with him, the more she wanted to be with him.
Only one more day until she left for San Francisco. She should have been better reconciled to the fact that it would be ending. That she would be leaving. And that he wouldn’t be waiting for her when she came home.
Of course, it didn’t help that he insisted he would be. But they all did. Right up until the end. Then they threw their hands up in the air and said two months or whatever the length of her tour, was a long time. Only in this case it would only be three weeks. Of course, then she’d be leaving again in little over a month for her next dance tour. And even if they didn’t know they wouldn’t wait, she did. No man was willing to accept her lifestyle. Not even a man who was in love with her.
Particularly not a man who had flinched at the realization that she wouldn’t be there to spend New Year’s Eve with him.
It would be harder this time. She just had to accept that. It would be harder to leave him and more painful to come home knowing he wasn’t there. But in the end it was all for the best. Wasn’t it?
December Dance Page 27