A Kindled Winter

by Rachel L. Demeter

  Holding her breath, she inched forward and stared down at the gaping hole. Steam rose in voluptuous clouds, clashing against the frigid winter air. The heat called her name, waving toward her like beckoning fingers. Brody pressed against her legs and plopped onto his huge butt.

  “A hot spring! And right in your own backyard? David, this is amazing.”

  Jeseca rushed forward and dropped to her knees. She felt the water’s heat circulating below. It swirled into her face and caressed her, causing wayward hair strands to dampen and curl against her nape. Seduced by the promising warmth, she unsheathed both hands, set the gloves aside, and reached down.

  A moan slid from her throat. The water encircled her fingertips and summoned delicious waves through her body. It was much hotter than she’d imagined it’d be. The contrast of the crisp winter air and tepid liquid was invigorating. Then she felt David standing beside her, towering above like some dark, solemn angel. Shaking her head, she laughed aloud at the melodramatic thought.

  I’ve been indulging in one too many Gothic novels.

  David cocked an inquisitive brow and planted both hands on his strong hips. “Am I really that funny looking?”

  “Oh, far from it,” she fairly purred, swallowing back the laughter.

  “Great,” he murmured, “now you’re making me blush.” His scarred fingertips worked the buttons of his jacket and T-shirt with that suaveness she’d come to admire so much. She watched in breathless fascination and lifted her hand from the water. Beads of liquid dripped from her fingertips like water from an icicle. He shrugged the jacket from his wide shoulders, folded the material, and set it on the snowy ground. Then he hesitated and briefly met her stare before peeling away the long sleeved T-shirt. Thick ropes of muscle rippled with each of his movements.

  An inferno stoked to life inside her belly. He was strong, brimming with virility, made imperfect only by the burned skin and welts. He turned his body to the side, obviously ashamed of the disfigurement, and a resounding pang raced through her heart.

  She tore her eyes away and cursed herself for staring. “You’re crazy. It’s freezing out here. Literally!”

  His eyes locked onto Jeseca’s as a stunning grin lifted the corner of his mouth. “Not in the hot spring, my dearest. It’s over one hundred degrees.”

  He nudged the large duffel bag with the tip of his boot, and urged it closer to spring’s gaping mouth. “You brought towels?” she asked, climbing back onto her feet.

  “I did, indeed. So there’s no excuses for you.” He kicked off each boot and peeled away his white socks. Then his fingers landed on the buttons of his jeans, and she watched with rekindled hunger as the silver emblems moved through the eyeholes. His hands were trembling, she noticed with another pang—though she doubted it was from the cold. The zipper came next, and a heartbeat later, he slithered out of the worn jeans. Like the rest of him, his thighs were corded with muscle, thick, and pure eye candy. And unlike the rest of him, they bore random dustings of scar tissue, as if embers had fallen onto his skin and made a home there.

  “It hardly seems fair,” he said, his voice perfectly rational, “that I’m almost stripped down to my birthday suit, and you’re covered in half a dozen layers of clothing.”

  Jeseca laughed at his comment and rolled her eyes. Then she loosened the scarf from her neck and unwound the material. David’s gaze remained fixed on her every movement, steady and calculating, drinking her in. Steam from the water rose around his stern face, cloaking him in dense clouds.

  Delicious.

  She felt as her insides turn to liquid … felt as her heartbeat doubled its speed and her core grew hot and damp.

  Sure, they’d already been intimate the night before … but something about this entire scenario stuck Jeseca as infinitely more personal and sensual. Cold gusts of air slammed against her exposed skin, and took her by complete surprise. She shuddered, caught between David’s piercing stare and the frigid atmosphere. She felt everywhere his eyes touched. They were rich, haunted, penetrating …

  “You made it look so easy,” she murmured, kicking off her boots and unfastening the clasps of her jeans, “stripping down in the middle of winter. Jeez. You must have fire running through your veins.” Icy air nipped her skin while the jeans slid down her body. The sweater came next—and she gasped aloud as her entire body was embraced by winter’s fingers.

  Her breath momentarily vacated her lungs. They came in irregular pants, and each one misted the chilly atmosphere. Dressed only in her panties and bra, Jeseca peeled away the socks, then quickly slithered into the hot water.

  Oh, yes.

  Delicious heat engulfed her, wrapping her body within a snug cocoon. David stared at her from across the spring, the desire in his eyes hot enough to melt the snow.

  Raw energy sizzled between them, and her heart hammered at a fierce tempo. She waded forward, drawn to David, and closed the distance that separated them. Stunning undertints shone in his blue gaze, resembling bursts of sun rays caught beneath shallow, crisp water.

  “Do you come here very often?” she asked, her stare never parting from his own.

  He silently shook his head and gave a painful look. “Not anymore. I used to.”

  “With Charlie?”

  He nodded. Jeseca slipped forward another foot until their chests nearly pressed together. His Adam’s apple undulated while he swallowed. Water glided between her fingers as she lifted them from the water and cupped either side of his face. Rivulets slipped down his temples, representing the tears he refused to shed. He raised both hands and clasped his fingers around her suspended wrists. The chemistry between them was electric … far beyond anything she’d ever felt before.

  She tentatively slid her fingers across his jaw.

  “Tell me about Charlie. What was he like?”

  David stiffened, the pain evident in his eyes, and shook his head. “Fun-loving, independent, intelligent. Lizzy used to say he bore her spirit and my heart.”

  Jeseca yearned to push the subject further—though decided it wasn’t the time or place.

  Moments later, snowflakes began falling from the sky again. The world around them resurrected. All five of Jeseca’s senses soared, taking on a life of their own. All that existed was Jeseca, David, the hot spring, and spiraling snowflakes. This little corner of the world transformed into a safe haven … a magical place fashioned together exclusively for the two of them.

  Everything else was nothing more than a distant memory; the traumas of Jeseca’s past fell around her conscious like the snowflakes. They grazed the surface of her awareness—only to melt away into a swirl of heat.

  Within this hot spring, she and David were untouchable. And Jeseca yearned to stay here forever. She ached to lose herself in David’s clasp for eternity and abandon her mind and body to an exquisite world of make believe …

  David seized her lips in an urgent, possessive movement. Strong hands plummeted beneath the water and gripped below her bottom. He elevated her body, forcing it against his own, and devoured her mouth. A strangled moan tore from her lips as his hands caressed Jeseca’s skin … ran up and down her curves, as if he couldn’t decide where to touch first. Her hooded gaze drank in the sight of their intimately close bodies. His chest was well defined, firm, sculpted. The healed burn marks warped his flesh and caused hair to grown uneven in places.

  David Drake was perfect in his imperfections.

  Jeseca wedged her right hand between their bodies and tracked it over his scars. Clearly moved by the gesture, he broke off their kiss and groaned low in his throat. Then his forehead lolled forward and pressed against her neck. He studied her with his piercing gaze, those rich eyes never wavering. His stare warmed her insides and sparkled like a velvety, star-filled sky. Hot breaths of air wafted against her sensitive skin, causing her insides to contract. She embraced him soundly, wrapping both arms around his shoulders, and eased her lips against the center of his chest. She held onto him like a lifeline—neve
r intending to let go.

  For the passing moment, it felt like she’d cease to exist apart from him.

  The beat of his heart thundered below her lips; her eyes drifted shut as she allowed herself to savor this moment. She inhaled the fresh scent of his hair, the spicy aroma of his skin, his mint-flavored breath. Snowflakes descended from the sky and melted atop the spring’s glassy surface. All the while, David’s breaths teased her hairline like a lover’s caress—and she knew, without a doubt, that she was way in over her head.

  “Jeseca …” His voice was a torn whisper, barely audible over the sound of the wind. Sunlight slanted through the trees and transformed the water into liquid gold. “What is happening? What is happening to us?”

  Still clasping onto his shoulders, she leaned backward and stared into his eyes. God. He looked completely lost. Afraid. Defeated. Emotion pressed hard on her throat, making it difficult to speak, to think, to draw breath.

  “I’m not sure. But all I know is that I don’t want this moment, this feeling, to ever fade away. I never want to leave your arms.” Her heart hammered, strong and sure, as the confession poured from her lips. “I just want to stay right here with you forever.”

  He nodded, his lips tilting into a crooked smile. When he spoke again, his voice loudened a bit, though remained soft enough not to chase away the magic that swirled between them. “Then we don’t ever have to leave.”

  She tightened her gasp on his shoulders and slid her arms upward, allowing them to loop around the strong column of his neck. Applying a light pressure, she urged his head down, and met his lips in a sensual, soul-searing kiss. He nibbled on the tender skin, gently drawing it between stark-white teeth. Wind whistled in her eardrums, and with it, the cold reality came rushing back.

  “But I have to. I have to go. I’ll … I’ll be leaving for my mom’s in a couple days,” she breathed the words inside his mouth. He chased them with his tongue and drew a moan from her throat. “And I want you to come with me. I want you to stay with me … to meet my mom. You’ll adore her. And she’ll adore you.” He paused his movements, as she knew he would. Then his head sagged several inches and a haunted, faraway look surfaced in those penetrating blue eyes. Jeseca wrapped both arms around his shoulders and pressed their bodies firmly together. She felt him slipping away—literally and figuratively—and she fought to lure him back. His heart thudded against her own, echoing the words he refused to say.

  “David?”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t. You know I can’t. Jeseca, I can barely go to the damn supermarket. I—”

  “Please, just … just don’t talk now.” Her hands moved downward—down his strong, muscled back … her fingertips dipped below his boxers and skimmed the sculpted V of his pelvis. Shudders raked through her body as she clutched onto his backside and thighs, marveling at his strength and size. “Just feel. Feel and stay in this moment with me. Let’s forget everything else. Remember? We’re never going to leave. We’re going to stay here forever …”

  In the back of her mind, the truth resonated—they would indeed be forced apart soon—though she chose to ignore it.

  A world of differences stands between us, yet something indescribable and powerful ties us together …

  His hands rode up her back in restless perusal and undid her bra’s clasp with skillful fingers. Her breasts sprang free and were kissed by a blast of cold air. Water clung to David’s long lashes as he glanced downward. Pure hunger laced his stare.

  Then he elevated her body in one fell swoop and wrapped his mouth around her left breast. He worked the taut peak, rubbing his tongue around the nipple in repetitive, mind-bending motions. Moaning, Jeseca fumbled with his boxers and shoved them down his muscled thighs. She tossed them onto the spring’s edge as his erection pressed against her belly.

  Thick, strong, and harder than fresh-forged steel. Not skipping a beat, she reached forward and wrapped both hands around his silky, turgid length. He expanded, grew impossibly stiffer, outright came alive in her grasp—and the erotic melody of his moans filled her eardrums.

  “Christ, Jeseca … ah.”

  Dr. David Drake was a man ruled by restraint, and Jeseca wanted nothing more than to push him over the edge. She wanted to completely free the passionate spirit she knew lay within, she wanted to release the chains that bound his body and soul …

  Feminine pride swelled her heart and set fire to her willpower. She revolved her palms and increased their pressure, gliding them up and down his throbbing length, down and up, around and around …

  Incoherent curses fled from David’s lips. He slid one hand to the front of her panties, dipped beneath the lacy material, and rimmed her femininity with a delicate fingertip. Groaning into her mouth, he shifted her backward and positioned her body against the edge of the spring; her nape grounded against the dirt wall, and the cold snow grazed her neck like a thousand hungry little mouths. David Drake and Blue River, Oregon were steadily consuming her—mind, body, and soul. All the while, the snow continued to descend from the bruised sky, and he chanted her name like a sacred prayer.

  A hot, wet tongue splashed against Jeseca’s cheek. Laughter bubbled from her throat as she stared straight into Brody’s hovering face. A bright red tongue dangled from his jowls like a royal carpet, and hot slobber dripped into her hairline. Jeseca shrieked and thrust forward, dodging the ammunition.

  David chuckled and shooed Brody away. Breathing heavily, he drew Jeseca against his torso and pressed his lips to her forehead in a tender kiss. Then he reached for the duffel bag, unzipped it, and removed two, meticulously folded towels. He laid them aside before fishing his hand inside the bag again.

  Her heart rocketed as he withdrew the most stunning jewelry box she’d ever seen. It was carved from a rich rosewood, engraved with tulips and intricate vines. Her name was etched across the lid in elegant, sweeping calligraphy. Unable to speak, she smoothed her palms over the polished surface and shook her head. “You—you made this for me?”

  A charming grin raised the corner of David’s mouth. He stood behind her, intimately close, and aligned their two bodies. His heart pounded against her back, strong and powerful. “Well, we made it … you could say.”

  She smiled at the realization and traced her name with a shaky fingertip. “Wow. It’s so gorgeous. Thank you. I love it, David.”

  And, God help me, I really am mad … because I just may love you, too.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Christmas is a season not only of rejoicing but of reflection.” —Winston Churchill

  Christmas Night

  Jeseca and David stormed through the doors and freed themselves from the ice-cold air. Her laughter rang inside the home, melodious and brimming with life. She turned toward him, the towel draped over her head like a makeshift cape, her crisp white teeth audibly chattering. A blush brightened her cheekbones, and caused them to clash against her supple skin.

  And she looked delicious. Good enough to devour. In spite of the freezing cold, David’s entire body grew hot. She was pure temptation—and everything about Jeseca stoked his inner fire to life.

  “S-s-so freakin’ cold! How can you st-stand it? I’m an i-i-icicle!”

  David took the words as an invitation to warm her up. In a rush of movement, he was on her. He ripped the towel from his body and slapped it onto the wooden floorboards. Jeseca’s blush deepened while a sharp breath of air escaped her lips.

  “David. Wait, I—”

  He swallowed the last of her words. Then he seized her waist, imprisoned her against the wall, and claimed her mouth in a soul-searing kiss. Sagging against the panels, she gasped inside his mouth before surrendering completely. Her body outright melted into his own, her tongue parrying each of his movements with an equal hunger and desperation. It seemed he’d waited a lifetime for this moment … a lifetime for Jeseca.

  David’s body caught fire as she looped both arms around his neck and moved closer. He positioned one arm below her lush bottom an
d elevated her from the ground. She returned the passionate onslaught, moaning and withering, her wet body barricaded in between the wall and his pounding chest.

  Their skin sloshed and melded together, creating a delicious, slippery friction. Her cold, damp hair dripped onto the floorboards in a repetitive requiem, and infused the home with a seductive ambiance. David’s erection strained against his boxers, painfully hard and ready. He undulated his hips against her firm belly, needing to relieve the mounting tension, needing more … needing Jeseca and everything she represented.

  Trembling in his arms, she moaned against his mouth, sunk her fingertips into his damp hair, and tugged on his scalp. In response, he worked the wet clasp of her bra and marveled at the lush feel of her breasts. Her breaths came hot and fast in his eardrum as he tracked his lips over the delicate wings of her collarbone … one and then the other …

  All reason evaded David. Rational thought fled from his brain until only emotion and feeling remained. He felt his very identity being tested and remade—and it scared the shit out of him.

  Pull away, his mind whispered through the drugging haze. She deserves better than you. Indeed, she would have never accepted him had she known the truth. How could she, when he couldn’t even accept himself? And yet, his kisses only grew stronger and more commanding until they were bruising in their power.

  No, he was not being remade. He was being rediscovered. Beneath Jeseca’s hand, a lost part of himself had resurrected. And for the first time in so long, he felt confident, entirely in control—and he intended to brand her with his passion. Within this moment, they were each other’s—future consequences be damned. Tomorrow didn’t exist. The past was nothing more than some dream, a delicate memory of the subconscious, and all that mattered was his hips moving against her own, their lips working in flawless sync, and the hoarse melody of her voice whistling past his ear …

  Red curls spilled through his fingertips like molten lava. They were damp from the spring and smelled distinctly of Jeseca—lemons and sunshine. Delectable. David inhaled, drinking in her invigorating aroma, committing everything about her to eternal memory. His hands slid down the elegant length of her neck and seized hold of her breasts. They felt heavy in his palms, and their pale complexion contrasted against his skin in a way that made his groin tighten impossibly more.