Didn’t he want more than this bland friendship they were both trying to pretend was enough? He should have just walked away. It would never be. Not for him and, he suspected, not for her either.
He entered her hallway and noticed that she’d added more things to the hallway table. It was a little village with houses nestled on a white table runner and a lighted ceramic tree in the center of the ring of homes. There was a sleigh nestled on top of the roof of one of the houses and Santa stood near the chimney.
There was lighted garland around the table and he noticed the smell of cinnamon that he was starting to associate with her was stronger here.
“I see you brought Baileys.”
“I did. Thought we could both use a drink,” he said. “It’s been a long week for me.”
“Me too. We are running with the ‘naughty and nice’ truffles. I had the boxes designed with our Candied Apple Café font. We are going to do a big push, starting tomorrow, with them,” she said. “But you probably didn’t come here to talk about what’s on my plate at work. Follow me.”
She turned and went down the hall. He noticed that the pajama pants she wore clung to the curve of her backside and emphasized her long legs. The kitchen had a tiled floor and she’d left the light over the stove on, which created an intimate setting as he followed her in.
There was a butcher-block-topped island in the middle of the kitchen area and in the corner was a padded bench with a table in front of it and two chairs on the opposite side. She hit a switch, flipping on the overhead lights. He noticed that she was holding herself back. Normally, her smile was easier and he wondered if this was his gift to her. Stealing her joy of the season while she gave him back his.
He hoped not. She’d really shown him what the holidays could be like without trips to the hospital and midnight calls to the doctor. He had forgotten, he realized.
But the truth was he could no longer remember the man he’d been before Gill had gotten sick. Maybe that was who he was.
“Should I leave?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “Let me get us some glasses and ice before we get into that.”
She opened one of the top cabinets and took out two whiskey glasses. She put two cubes of ice in each one and brought them to the counter, where he’d been standing. He opened the bottle and poured a generous amount in each one.
She lifted her glass to his. “To drinking at midnight.”
He stared at the creamy liquor in the glass. Gill hadn’t been much of a drinker, of course, and after the bouts of cancer, chemo, and remission she’d become a ghost of her former self. He remembered … that towards the end he’d felt she was hanging on just because of him.
“Is there a reason why we are?” he asked.
“You brought it,” she said. “Is there one for you?”
He leaned forward on the counter, resting his elbows on it. “Maybe,” he said, but he wasn’t about to unload on her. He needed to man up. He could do this. He smiled at her. Noticed how pretty she looked sitting there. “Just seemed like it might be nice to wind down.”
“It would be,” she admitted, that edge back in her voice.
“Talk to me,” he said. “I used to be a good listener.”
“Don’t do that,” she said.
“What?”
“Say ’used to be‘ like you’re not a decent man,” she said. “You lost the woman you loved and you are still recovering from that. In no way does that make you weak.”
Her words cut to the core and he realized that he hadn’t felt good in a long time. He knew that part of it was the resentment he’d felt toward Gill when she’d died. That sense of being abandoned. That sense of being left alone to raise Sofia. That sense that he wasn’t sure how to live again.
***
Mads was back in her kitchen and Iona was determined this time he wouldn’t leave her alone and wanting. Before, that had been acceptable. She was trying to understand how difficult it must be for him to move on with anyone. But after talking to her brother and her realization earlier tonight, she knew she wanted and needed more.
She wanted him.
“Thank you for that,” he said.
“No problem. I’ve seen you with your daughter, with your brother, with the people who work for you. You’re a good man, Mads. Don’t forget it.”
“That’s the easy part. It’s this that I keep screwing up at,” he said, gesturing to the two of them and taking a long swallow of his drink.
“Why?” she asked. She had been careful, or as careful as she could be, not to push him towards anything …
“I want more from you,” he said.
“Me too,” she admitted.
“Well, that’s a start,” he said, putting down his glass as he came around the island.
“Is it?” she asked.
“It can be,” he said, putting his hand on her waist and drawing her closer to him.
She closed her eyes, he smelled of Baileys and aftershave. Way better than she’d remembered.
He put his other hand on the back of her neck. It was big and warm, holding her gently. She felt the brush of his breath over her cheek and opened her eyes to see he was very close to her.
His blue-grey eyes weren’t as icy as she always thought they were. There was a fire in them that called to her. Called to something deep inside of her that she’d been ignoring for a long time.
He didn’t say anything, just looked down at her with that unfathomable look in his eyes as he rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. Tingles spread down her body, her breasts felt fuller and she stood up taller, leaning towards him for that kiss she wanted. But he took his time.
He reached up, tugging the elastic ponytail holder from her hair and she shook her head as he tossed it aside. He turned back to her, wrapping a strand of her hair around his hand.
“It almost looks like a flame,” he said.
She reached up to touch his thick curls. He looked like a fallen angel. The kind that tempted humans into behaving in ways they shouldn’t. But as he’d said, tonight it was just them. She turned off her brain. Stopped thinking about all the reasons why this might be a bad idea and just ran her hand down the strong column of his neck.
Just let her hands trace the edge of his sweater, where it met his skin, and then to dip below it.
He lifted her off her feet and put her on the counter top, pushing her legs apart so he could stand between them. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned down to kiss him. Their lips met and it was as if no time had passed since that kiss in the hallway. The passion he’d stirred in her then was reawakened and she plunged her tongue between his lips into his mouth.
He angled his head to allow her deeper access. She felt his hands on her back, sliding up under her pajama top. His hands were warm and smooth as he caressed her. She shifted against him, as he drew his nail down her spine.
She pulled her head from his and he looked up at her, she noticed his eyes were half-closed and she fought to keep her mind silent. To keep her fears locked away, but it was hard not to wonder if he knew he was kissing her or if he was remembering Gill.
She pushed him back and hopped off the counter. He pulled her off-balance back into his arms and he didn’t say a word, but their eyes met and she knew he saw her. That she was the one he wanted tonight.
He lifted her off her feet again and carried her out of the kitchen, through the little hallway that led to her living room. He laid her down on the couch and then came down over her, his knee next to her hip, one arm under her shoulder blades, his mouth coming down hers and this time she didn’t allow anything other than the weight of his body on top of hers to matter.
***
Mads wanted her. Wanted to lose himself in her magic tonight. She made a mockery of his self-control and shone a light on the lies he’d been telling himself. Her tongue tangled with his and driving ache for her took over him.
He tore his mouth from hers, felt the brush of her breath against
his jaw and then her lips as she dragged them down his neck. He groaned as he hardened even more.
Her soft fingers ran down the side of his neck and she tapped her fingertip against the pulse that beat so strongly there. He wasn’t fooling her. He was anything but cool tonight. He’d prided himself on being icy, on keeping his composure, but that wasn’t something he could even pretend was happening anymore.
He shifted her in his arms, saw the outline of the swell of her cleavage in the opening of her top and leaned down, putting his head between her breasts and breathing in the warm scent of Iona. He felt her heart beating against her skin and knew she wanted him too.
Her back arched and the fabric cover over her breasts slipped until he saw the darkness of her nipple and leaned down to nuzzle it. He captured the tip between his lips and sucked it into his mouth.
Her hands plunged into his hair, holding him to her, her fingers rubbing against his scalp as she made little noises in the back of her throat.
“Mads …” His name was a moan on her lips as her hands moved down to trace the shell of his ear and fondle the lobe before moving lower to his neck, tracing his Adam’s apple with her nail.
Wedging her hand between their bodies, he felt her on his lower belly. Her cool fingers snaking between the fabric and popping one of his buttons until she pushed her fingers in there, rubbing them over his stomach.
His hips jerked forward at the first brush of her hand on his skin. He lifted his head from her breast and shifted back, his thighs resting on his heels. He caught the bottom hem of her shirt with two fingers and pulled it up over her head, tossing it aside.
Her skin was pale ivory with no freckles. Her waist was tiny and nipped in, her breasts beautiful and full and she just lay there and let him look at her.
Then she reached up and flicked open his other buttons on his shirt and he shrugged out of it. Before straddling her body and slowly lowering his chest until he could lightly rub it over hers.
She moaned again. Making that sound that he was fast becoming addicted to. A part of him wanted to pretend the attraction was just lust but there was no denying the magic that was Iona. She called to something in his soul that he could no longer deny.
He didn’t have to pretend to want her. Every breath he took was filled with the cinnamon scent of her skin.
He put one hand in her hair, careful not to tug too hard on it, but he needed to hold onto her. He’d said it earlier, but her hair was like a flame … actually Iona was the flame and she was melting parts of him that he’d never realized he needed to thaw.
Tonight she was a fire that was burning him all the way to his core. Her head fell back, exposing her neck and he kissed it. Nibbled up and down the length until he turned his head and their lips met again.
She thrust her tongue deep into his mouth and he groaned in the back of his throat. She rocked up against him with the same rhythm as his tongue, as her thighs rubbed along the sides of his.
He was fascinated with each of her reactions and he could easily see himself becoming addicted to this … to her. More so than anything else he’d experienced for a very long time.
He shoved that thought aside. Right now he wanted her spread out under him. He needed her naked because he wanted all of her. Everything that Iona had to give him.
He just needed to be inside of her. To prove to himself that he wasn’t as lost as he had been the last few years.
Damn.
He shut down his mind and just stared at her long slim legs and the feminine mysteries between them. She deserved better than him. He knew that but he knew he wasn’t going to be able to make himself leave again.
“You take my breath away,” he said. He couldn’t give her words of love but he could tell her how much she meant to him.
He ran his fingers up her thighs, drifting higher until he reached the waistband of her pajama bottoms. He drew it slowly down, her body shifting back as he did so until she kicked them off and he tossed them aside. She wore a minute pair of bikini panties that were red.
“Wait, you’ll love these,” she said.
“I already do,” he admitted, unable to tear his gaze from her body as she shifted around until her back was to him. She was on her knees, her red hair hung down her back and she looked over her shoulder at him.
His breath caught in his chest and he just stared at her. Until she shook her hips and he noticed that emblazoned across the back of her underwear was the word NAUGHTY.
He laughed and then reached for her, pulling her back into his arms. Her back to his chest and he rested his head on her shoulder as he skimmed his hands over the curve of her waist and then lower to the elastic of her naughty panties.
She put her hand over his and directed his hand inside of them, until he cupped her secrets. He gently caressed her. Her hips rotated against his erection, which strained against the front of his jeans. Using his free hand he undid the button and lowered his zipper, then adjusted his underwear until he was free of the cloth.
He touched her gently in a circular motion and she moaned. A sound of approval. He continued to move his fingers over her until she turned in his arms, her mouth finding his before she pulled back, shifting around until she got her panties off.
Her brown eyes were blazing with desire. There was a rosy pink flush to her skin and she breathed heavily, causing her breasts to rise and fall rapidly.
He stood up. He had a condom. Just the one. He’d tucked it into his pocket before grabbing the Baileys and coming down to her apartment.
He’d wanted her. No point in denying it.
She smiled when she saw it. He dropped down onto his knees, naked now, next to her. She reached for him and helped him put the condom on.
Sensation shivered down his back and he moved her hand off him. Before putting his hands on her thighs and pushing them apart. Her arms came around him and her thighs wrapped around his hips. He leaned down to catch her mouth with his, shifted his hips until he was poised to enter and then thrust into her.
He sucked her tongue deeper into his mouth. Letting her body adjust to his.
He held her hips as he drove himself into her, harder and harder, until she screamed his name.
He held her hips hard against his and thrust until an unstoppable orgasm raced through his body. He collapsed against her and felt her wrap her arms around his shoulders, he heard the beat of her heart and he pretended it was sweat from sex that caused his eyes to burn, but he realized he was crying. Just a few tears that he pretended he didn’t feel.
Chapter 11
Iona held Mads in her arms and listened to the faint sound of music coming from the kitchen. Diana Krall singing “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”. The jazzy sound of her voice gave the song a bluesy feel and suited the way she felt right now.
Sex had changed everything for her. Making her very aware that the relationships she’d had in the past had been almost superficial. There hadn’t a man who’d made her feel what Mads had just now.
But Mads hadn’t looked up at her since he’d come and she was holding on to him a little too tightly. She knew it so she forced herself to rub her hand up and down his back. He turned his head and she felt his lips lightly brush over the curve of her breast and then he shifted as he dropped kisses along her sternum. She felt a tiny tremor go through her at the feel of his lips on her skin and the abrasion of his beard stubble against her.
She kept running her hands up and down his back, letting her nails scrape against his skin gently. Finally, he shifted his arms under her and lifted himself up to look down at her. He seemed as if he wanted to say something but instead he just rested his forehead against hers, one of his arms going under her body, which forced her to arch her back, brushing the tips of her breasts against his chest. She realized, as physically satisfying sex with Mads had been, she still felt empty. Maybe because they hadn’t really connected. She knew he was hiding something from her.
Complicated.
He was never
going to be easy. He had more baggage than most men and she knew that before she’d invited him into her place tonight.
She wanted him again. Even now. As he was touching her and caressing her. It felt different this time.
He buried his hands in her hair as he looked into her eyes. He started to say something, but then stopped.
As he stared into her eyes she realized that she wished she could read his expression. Was it grief that had led him to hide what he felt? Or had he always been like that?
She didn’t know. She doubted he was going to tell her and even if he did, she had no idea if it would be the truth or not. She shifted away from him.
Mads put his hand on the back of her neck, gently. Then she felt him lifting her up. He carried her down the hall, through her bedroom, and into the bathroom, where he set her on her feet. He turned his back to her and knelt next to the tub, adjusting the taps until the water was flowing out of them. She took off her top too. She walked over to the tub.
She reached over his shoulder for the bath salts and the foaming bath cube and dropped them into the tub. He didn’t say a word, just held his hand out to her to help her into the water and then he climbed into the tub with her too.
She felt calmer than she had in a long time. She’d needed Mads more than she’d thought she would.
***
Mads guessed Iona knew that he’d thought of Gill at the end of making love to her and he hadn’t meant to hurt her that way. As soon as he’d seen those tears in her eyes, everything else had dropped away. He might have been thinking about himself and his own grief, but in that moment he’d realized how much he truly was starting to care for Iona and he never wanted to see her in pain.
Christmas at the Candied Apple Café Page 10