Home for the Holidays: A Contemporary Romance Anthology

by Christine Bell

  His tongue was bold and hot and stroked along hers as one of his hands boldly stroked underneath the curve of her right butt cheek. He traced the pad of his finger over the string of the thong, following it forward to where she was hot and already wet.

  He pulled his mouth away again, looking straight into her eyes as he stroked over the hot silk between her legs again. “If you don’t already taste like peppermint candy here, you’re going to,” he told her in a husky voice that made her even wetter.

  She licked her lip, trying to figure out what to say other than holy shit, yes.

  “Oh yeah, you’ll get a taste too,” he promised in a dark, deep voice.

  Kate felt her inner muscles clench. Damn, the guy had bought her hot chocolate, cuddled her on a park bench and now was about to make her come just talking about the things he wanted to do.

  Best Christmas ever.

  “On second thought,” she said, nearly panting. “Maybe you should buy every candy cane in town.” She suddenly had some interesting holiday inspiration of her own.

  “That’s my girl,” he whispered, covering her lips with his again.

  His girl.

  The only thing that phrase should have done was yank Kate out of this crazy daze and make her realize that all of this that she was feeling was impossible. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.

  But instead, she climbed that much closer to an orgasm.

  In a truck. With a farmer’s work-roughened, tough, can-do-anything hand stroking over her.

  He ran his finger over her clit. There was still a scrap of satin between them, but she felt it as if he’d touched her with a live wire. The jolt went through her, curling her toes, and she tipped her head back. She wasn’t sure why she—or any woman—actually did that, but it felt good.

  “Nipples,” he rasped, stroking her again. “I need to taste you.”

  Without anything close to a rational thought, she reached behind for the zipper. So far, she was a huge fan of making out in Sapphire Falls. This was more than she got from some guys she dated for weeks. Not many could make her come apart with a single finger with her still mostly dressed.

  Some couldn’t even do it with them both fully naked.

  The bodice of the dress gaped as she drew the zipper down and pulled the front below her breasts. She wore a bra, but it wasn’t much more substantial than the thong. The cups were mere wisps of lace really.

  “Damn, need more light,” he said.

  But that didn’t stop him from leaning in and taking one of her nipples into his mouth right through the lace. He dipped his finger under the edge of her thong and stroked along her hot, wet center, circling her clit and then sliding inside of her.

  She gripped his shoulders as she gasped. “Yes.”

  He bit her nipple gently and then pulled back. “Move your bra.”

  Gladly. She pulled the cups down and he again took a tip between his lips. He licked and sucked, slowly sliding his finger in and out of her.

  Kate was lost. There wasn’t any skin for her to touch, suck or lick, but she was selfish enough not to want to stop what was happening to fix that. She pressed against his hand and fisted his hair in one hand, intent on keeping him right where he was until she came.

  It had been a while, she wouldn’t lie. But she had limited time with this guy. She was going to soak it all in. If he thought she was greedy and easy afterward, let him think it. She’d probably never seen him again.

  That thought made something clench in her chest, but the next moment, he moved his hand, his fingers sliding out of her. She started to protest until she realized he was only moving to cup her from the front. He slid two long thick fingers into her, his thumb circled her clit, and she couldn’t think of anything at all.

  She dug her fingers into his hair and his shoulder as she felt the desire coiling quick and hot in her core.

  “You sure you’re not too cold?” he asked before he nipped at the hard tip of her breast.

  “I’m actually…feeling…pretty…good,” she panted.

  “Yeah, you are.” He stroked in and out slowly again, the tight fit of his fingers dragging along her inner walls deliciously.

  Sparks seemed to shoot through her and she gasped.

  But he kept up with the slow, sensual pace. She tightened her muscles around his fingers. That got a deep, heartfelt groan out of him, but he kept it slow. She ground down against his hand again. That got a muttered, “Fuck”. Then she spread her knees even wider. “Holy…” he breathed roughly.

  But still slow. Relentless stroking, near-perfect pressure, decadent swirls over her clit. Her orgasm was building, but it was like turning the heat on the stove up by a few degrees at a time. Things would eventually boil, but it would take forever. And she was hungry now.

  “Faster, harder,” she begged. “Make me come. Please.”

  There was a split-second pause, then he thrust deep, pressed her clit and held his hand there. No movement, not even a tiny flick of the smallest of his finger muscles.

  Her eyes flew open and she found him staring at her. The sweet, smiling guy who’d bought her hot chocolate was gone. This guy was intense. His eyes glittered in the little bit of light afforded from the yard light, the moon overhead and the dashboard lights. He looked dark and determined…and like every erotic fantasy she’d ever had.

  “Say it again,” he demanded softly.

  “Faster,” she whispered.

  He shook his head once and pressed into her. “Not that.”

  “Harder?” It sounded like more of a question.

  He dragged his thumb slowly back and forth over her clit once. “Not that.”

  He was in complete command of her body. It was like he held a game controller. One flick of his thumb, one press of a finger, and he controlled what happened.

  She was no way restrained. The doors weren’t even locked. But Kate couldn’t have done anything other than what he told her to do.

  “Make me come.” It was a plea. Soft, breathless, husky. “Please make me come.”

  “Pinch your nipple,” he told her.

  The hand between her legs still didn’t move, but she was aware of every inch of him inside of her.

  She took her hand from his hair—the only true hold she’d had on him—and pinched her nipple between her thumb and finger. She gasped at the connection between the tip and her clit.

  “Lean back.”

  She let go of his shoulder. Now she wasn’t touching him at all. Of course, she was straddling his lap and she was very much against his hand, but he was mostly definitely touching her. She leaned until she felt the dash behind her. The cold plastic pressed against her shoulder blades, putting her at an incline away from him.

  The shift in position changed where his fingers were pressing inside of her, and she gasped as his fingers put more direct pressure on a very nice spot. He had more room now to move his thumb over her clit.

  “Keep working your nipple,” he told her.

  Like she’d stop. This felt amazing. She squeezed and tugged, and he had to feel the way that affected her where he was touching her.

  He had a free hand and he used it to pull the front of her dress up farther and then the thong out of the way. It was too dark for him to see much clearly, but the idea that she was now completely uncovered with his eyes on her ratcheted her desire a notch higher. Okay, maybe three notches.

  “Put your finger in my mouth.”

  Her eyes widened, but she took her unoccupied hand and lifted it to his mouth. He opened and she slid her finger over his lower lip to his tongue. His lips came around the digit and he sucked lightly.

  “Oh my God,” she gasped.

  Then he started his hand moving again. He thrust in and out of her harder, faster, just as she’d asked. His thumb played with her clit. She rolled her nipple, tugged and pinched. And he sucked on her finger, moving his tongue along the length, the wet, hot, silky feel on the tip of her finger exactly what she wanted against her cl
it.

  It was easy to imagine his mouth on her, his tongue buried where his fingers were now, and it took about two minutes for her to climb, shoot over the top and dive into the best orgasm of her life.

  Her harsh breathing still filled the truck and ripples of pleasure still spiraled out from her center when he shifted his hand from under her. He lifted his hand to his mouth and tasted her.

  Um…wow. No guy had ever done that. Her muscles clenched again as she watched him. Of course, no guy had ever done most—all—of the things he’d just done. To her anyway. She had a feeling he had a little experience with hands in girls’ panties.

  “More like sweet cookie dough than candy cane.” He licked his bottom lip and gave her a wicked grin. “I’m in the mood for cookies now.”

  Oh, she was definitely in the mood for…what?

  “Cookies? Now?”

  “Is there a bad time for Christmas cookies?” he asked her in her own words from earlier.

  “Until ten minutes ago, I would have said no. Now I want say yes. Now. Now is a bad time.”

  He laughed and shook his head.

  He’s shaking his head?

  “I think this is a great time. We’re gonna need the calories.”

  “The hot chocolate will keep me going—” she leaned in and whispered against his lips, “—for hours.”

  He pulled her bra and the front of her dress up and rezipped her.

  She was stunned.

  “You’re re-dressing me?”

  He chuckled and kissed her. “The thing is, once I get you upstairs, you’re not going anywhere for the rest of tonight and probably most of tomorrow.”

  His words were teasing, but the tone was enough to make her very-recently satisfied girl parts say oh goody.

  “And you want Christmas cookies,” he said.

  “I can wait on the cookies.”

  He shook his head. “The perfect Christmas is about more than sex.”

  She wasn’t so sure about that. “What if I told you that if you don’t take me upstairs right now, there will be no candy caning in your future?”

  He gave her a very unconcerned, very sexy grin. “You’ll be begging me for…caning.”

  She was not into BDSM, including—maybe especially—caning, but when he said it like that, she couldn’t deny that her nipples and other parts perked up.

  She could totally be into Tucker’s type of caning.

  She sighed. Now that her heart rate was slowing and the flashes of more, more, more from her clit weren’t quite as intense—oh, they were still there, they’d just calmed slightly—she thought about the cookies. And more importantly, that this guy was willing to wait on sex so that she could have her Christmas cookies immediately.

  That was…unexpected. And amazing. And made her want him even more.

  Plus, the whole guy-baking-for-her thing? Oh, yeah, she’d be so ready to go by the time they climbed those stairs. Suddenly, she couldn’t wait to see his hands buried in the cookie dough.

  And there were all kind of fun things they could do with the frosting.

  “Cookies it is.”

  He grinned. “Let’s go.”

  5

  He was giving up sex for cookies?

  The car window might have banged him even harder than the doctors thought.

  But he wanted to make cookies with this woman. Not that he didn’t want to do all of the other things with her. But the driving need to give her what she wanted had culminated with his fingering her to orgasm while he stayed dressed, and damned if he didn’t feel completely satisfied in so many ways now anyway.

  This trip was getting more and more surprising by the minute.

  Plus, covering her in sugar, colored sprinkles and whatever else went into Christmas cookies seemed like a hell of a plan.

  Until he could get some candy canes.

  He was already hard—beyond hard—but the thought of all the things they were going to do with the candy canes made his cock press uncomfortably against his zipper.

  She grabbed up her coat, scarf and hat but didn’t put them back on. She stepped out of the truck onto the drive in front of Joe’s house, but there was deeper snow where Levi had parked and her heels sank in. Levi rounded the truck quickly, swept her into his arms and carried her to the porch.

  “Galant,” she told him with a smile.

  “I can’t have you breaking your leg or neck walking in snow in those shoes. I’ve got plans for you later.”

  He felt a little shiver go through her and knew it wasn’t from the cold. He let her down in front of the door and tipped the ceramic frog over to retrieve the key. He unlocked the door and swung it open, letting her step across the threshold before him.

  She tossed the coat and other gear on the couch, kicked her shoes off and crossed to the nearest lamp as if she knew the room. Of course, she probably did. She and Phoebe were friends and she lived here in Sapphire Falls. Hell, maybe she and Phoebe hung out here a lot.

  And that made him imagine them having dinner here with Phoebe and Joe. He could picture her beside him for summer barbecues, his niece’s birthday parties, Sunday dinners after church.

  He didn’t even go to church. That was how much this woman was affecting him.

  “I assume cookies happen in the kitchen,” she said with a smile.

  She had no idea the crazy things going through his mind, and that was probably good, Levi thought. He’d scare her off for sure. No one thought things like this after knowing each other for one evening.

  He followed her through the arched doorway that connected the living room and dining room and on into the kitchen. She flipped lights on as she went.

  Phoebe and Joe’s kitchen was spacious with tons of cupboards and counters, a big wooden table near the window that could easily seat eight and a center island with pots, pans and various utensils hanging from an ornate metal rack overhead.

  He moved to lean against one of the counters where he thought he’d have the best view. Hailey stopped by the island and turned to face him, smiling expectantly.

  “So where do we start?” she asked.

  “Sugar.”

  She looked around. Her gaze landed on four canisters of varying height next to the fridge and she pulled the one labeled sugar from the group. “Now what?”

  He laughed. “I guess we’ll need that. But I meant sugar cookies. That’s what traditional Christmas cookies are right? The ones that are in different shapes and frosted?”

  She frowned. “Yes, I think so. What else do we need for those then? Flour, I’m guessing.” She pulled that canister forward as well.

  She was guessing? Uh, huh. She was cute. “Probably.”

  She gave him a funny look. “Butter? Eggs?”

  “Sounds good.”

  She started to reach for the handle on the fridge but then dropped her hand and turned to face him. “What about paprika?”

  He nodded. He knew nothing. “Sure.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Paprika? Really? I may not know anything about baking, but I do know you’re messing with me now.”

  He straightened away from the counter. “You know nothing about baking? What do you mean?”

  Her eyes widened. “I mean, I don’t bake.”

  “You don’t? But you’re Christmas cookie crazy?”

  “Yes, I am. And the bakery down the block from my building makes amazing ones.”

  He frowned and stepped closer. “The bakery on the highway?”

  “No, it’s on a hundred-and-fifty-seventh.”

  He stared at her. Sapphire Falls did not have 157 streets, that much he did know. “What are you talking about? I figured all the Sapphire Falls girls baked.”

  She laughed. “They probably do.”

  “So you bake.”

  She shook her head. “Knowing Sapphire Falls girls does not automatically mean I know how to bake.”

  “I’m so confused.”

  “Me too. I thought you baked.”

>   “Why would you think that?”

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I guess because you were all into the idea, and since I don’t bake, I figured…” She trailed off and took a deep breath. “So the guys in Sapphire Falls don’t learn to bake from their moms and grandmas?”

  “I have no idea.” He felt like he was missing something here.

  “How do you have no idea?”

  “I…” He took a deep breath and worked on refocusing. “What are we talking about?”

  “That neither of us bakes.”

  “And that we assume most people in Sapphire Falls are comfortable in the kitchen.”

  She smiled at that. “Perhaps a stereotype.”

  “A stereotype from people who are…” And it dawned on him. “From two people who are not from Sapphire Falls.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “You’re not from here?”

  “No. You?”

  “No.”

  “But you got elected mayor anyway.”

  She laughed. “Mayor? Of Sapphire Falls? Don’t be ridiculous. This is the first time I’ve even stepped foot in this town.”

  Levi straightened, surprise zapping through him. “What?”

  “And shouldn’t you know who the mayor is?” Then she shook her head. “No, wait, you said you’re not from here either.”

  “I’m not. My brother is.”

  “Who’s your brother?”

  “Joe.”

  Her eyes were completely round now. “Joe? Phoebe’s Joe? Joe Spencer?”

  “Yes.” He was confused and exasperated. “I’m Levi Spencer. Who are you?”

  “Kate Leggot. I’m a friend of Phoebe’s. We met last year in DC.”

  “DC?” Levi repeated. “You’re from Washington DC?” She was a city girl? Levi ran a hand over his face.

  “I’m from San Francisco. I travel to DC for work a lot.”

  He groaned and put his other hand up to his face. She was a city girl. One that traveled for work. She was not a small-town girl who rarely ventured outside of her little town oasis. She was not a small-town girl who loved the simple things in life. She didn’t even know how to bake.

  “Dammit.”

  “Hey, I can hear you,” she said crossly.