White-Hot Christmas

by Serenity Woods

  She giggled. “I’m sticking to you.”

  “Mmm.” He didn’t sound disappointed. “Are you hot?”

  “It’s very humid in here. I apologise if I pass out.”

  He laughed. He rolled to the right, lying beside her again, and raised himself on an elbow. His eyes were mischievous and she grew suddenly wary. He leaned over her and rummaged in the cooler again. When his hand came out, he held a rather wet ice cube, which he quickly popped in his mouth.

  She looked up at him, puzzled. He raised a hand, asking her to wait. For a few moments he circled the cube in his mouth, then crunched it, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

  He put his arms tight around her. Without warning, he bent his head and closed his mouth over her right nipple.

  Merle squealed and braced her hands on his shoulders to push him away, but he was holding her so tight, it was like trying to push a brick wall, and she couldn’t move. She gasped, tipping her head back, both nipples tightening so much it hurt. He sucked gently, his mouth gradually warming, and she caught her breath as his tongue circled like a warm sponge before he lifted his head to look at her, smiling.

  “That was wicked!” she scolded, almost faint with desire.

  He grinned. “Wicked’s my middle name.”

  “You seem to have a lot of those.”

  “Eh?”

  “Bree said your middle name was ‘Feral’.”

  He laughed out loud and raised his eyebrows. “Like a savage, wild beast?”

  “I think she meant more like a horny tomcat.”

  “Yeah, that about sums me up.” He bent to kiss her but she pushed him away.

  “Is it my turn with the ice now?” She looked at his boxers.

  “Oh no. You’ve already had had your fun with me at the cafe, you little scamp. You got me so horny, I nearly came in my shorts like a sixteen-year-old.”

  “Oh…”

  His eyes grew dark, and he brushed her lips with his. “Does that turn you on?”

  She blushed, but said, “Everything’s turning me on at the moment.”

  He chuckled, nibbling her ear. “I know what you mean—I made a mental list of all the things I wanted to do to you tonight, but I don’t have enough self-control for half of them, sorry.” He tugged at her pyjama bottoms. “Time to get these off, I’m getting desperate.”

  She was as well, and this time didn’t hesitate to wriggle out of them. He pushed his boxers off and lay on his side, facing her. They admired each other’s bodies for a moment, her heart beginning to pound again at the sight of him so ready for her.

  “Nice,” she whispered.

  “Double nice.”

  He began to kiss her again, growing bolder, more insistent. His rising passion made her arch her back, pushing her breasts toward him, and she sighed as he played with her nipples, his fingers gentle but firm, his tongue warm on the sensitive skin.

  After a while he trailed his hand along her abdomen, resting his fingers at the top of her pubic hair. She shivered as he traced a pattern on the flat of her stomach. He lifted his head momentarily and licked his fingers. He kissed her again as he slid his hand back down to her hair, then deeper, into the warm, moist part of her. She could have told him he wouldn’t need any lubricant, and sure enough, as he found her slick and ready for him, he raised his head to look at her. She thought he would be smiling, but his eyes were hot, and he was obviously as desperate to be inside her as she was to have him inside.

  “Mmm.” He stroked her gently. “Triple nice.”

  She closed her eyes, sighing as his mouth closed over one nipple then the other, and it wasn’t long before she caught his hand, unable to bear the torment any longer. “Now.”

  He retrieved one of the packets, tearing it open with his teeth. He put the condom on and lay on his back, pulling her on top of him, her long blonde hair falling across his chest like silk. She sat as upright as she could in the small tent and moved her hips, feeling the tip of him brush her swollen lips, which were so sensitive it made her gasp.

  “You do it,” he said huskily, cupping her breasts. “As slow as you want.”

  “No need for slowness.” She pushed down in one firm movement, taking the whole of him inside, making both of them gasp out loud. He looked up at the tent roof, closing his eyes momentarily, trying to keep a tight hold on his self-control. She smiled wryly. Now she’d got rid of her reservations, she felt wildly uninhibited. She didn’t want him in control. She wanted him as crazy as she felt.

  She began to move on top of him, small movements initially, letting the tip of him slide inside her before lifting herself back up several times, then sinking down until he was completely sheathed in her, making him groan. She did this again and again, teasing him until he gave her a hot glare and, tightening his arms around her, rolled over carefully so she lay under him.

  She gasped as he began to move more urgently, pulling her against him so he could thrust more deeply inside her, angling himself so he aroused her as he moved. She had never made love like this. But of course this wasn’t lovemaking—this was sex, pure, hard and simple, hot and erotic. She mustn’t confuse the two.

  He bent his head and kissed her, brushing his lips against her cheek and around to her left ear, his breath hot on her neck. “Come on, baby,” he whispered, his hips moving rhythmically, insistently. “Come for me… I know you want to…”

  Oh…she did. He was waiting for her, managing to hold back. But he didn’t have long to wait. The orgasm built quickly, the muscles in her thighs and belly starting to tighten exquisitely. She gasped as the wave swept over her and everything began to pulse, and she knew she’d cried out, but she couldn’t stop herself. His mouth closed over hers, muffling her moans, and some part of her brain thought about his comment on “the breath of life” and wondered if this was what it referred to.

  She wrapped her legs around him and he groaned, plunging deeper into her, making her exclaim, then he tightened with his own climax and gave a deep shudder, his hips jerking, the muscles of his back rigid beneath her fingertips.

  He lowered his head and rested it gently on her shoulder as their breathing began to quieten. Her heart pounded, and she could feel it echoed in his heartbeat against her chest. It was so hot in the tent they were drenched in sweat, and his hair curled damply around his forehead. When they moved, their skin peeled apart with a delicious sucking sound.

  As she drifted back to earth, she waited for him to withdraw and roll over, but he didn’t. Still inside her, he lifted his head and looked at her, his face lit with admiration and affection as he kissed her gently, touching his lips to her cheeks, her eyelids, then back to her mouth, soft butterfly kisses, tender and warm. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No.” Of all the idiotic things, and after everything they’d done, she blushed at the warmth in his eyes.

  Luckily it was so warm in the tent he didn’t notice. “Good. I’m sorry, I got carried away.”

  “I wanted you to.”

  “You are an incredibly hot woman.” He moved his hips slightly against hers. “And the double meaning was intended.” Smiling, he kissed her again. “I am so lucky. This was not how I envisaged my day ending when I woke up this morning.”

  She laughed. He withdrew from her slowly and rolled onto his back, sighing.

  Merle pushed herself up and looked at him. He had one arm across his face, his breathing beginning to calm. He’d be asleep in seconds. Smiling, she reached for her pyjamas.

  “Hey, where are you going?” He grabbed her wrist before she could pull on the pyjama bottoms.

  “Back to my bed. Before anyone notices I’ve gone.”

  He gave her a reproachful look, reached to one side and found the other condom, then waved it at her. “We’ve got one left.”

  She laughed. “Really?”

  “Well, I might need a few minutes.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You have to work tomorrow. You need your sleep and I can see you’re tired. Go on, I don’
t mind. I got what I came for!”

  He studied her, frowning. Then he released her hand but grabbed her long hair instead. Slowly he wound it around his fingers, tighter and tighter, until he forced her to move closer to him to avoid losing a handful.

  “Ow.”

  “Well, do as you’re told then.”

  “You can’t tell me what to do just because we’ve had sex.”

  “Watch me.” He tucked her under his right arm, and smiling, she curled against him, resting her head on his shoulder. She hadn’t expected this. His hand stroked slowly down her back and he kissed the top of her head, a gesture that made her grow warm inside as well as out.

  After a while, she lifted herself onto an elbow and looked at him, leaning on his chest. He watched her lazily, tracing patterns with his fingers on her hip.

  She bent her head and licked in the hollow of his throat, tasting salt.

  He sighed. “Mmm.”

  She smiled, sitting up. “I should go.”

  “After doing that?” He put his right hand on her back and pulled her toward him, catching her lips with his own.

  “Neon…”

  “Stop asking, I’m not letting you go.”

  “And stop ordering me around, Napoleon…”

  “Right, that’s it.” He turned her onto her back and started kissing her again, moving her hands away when she tried to stop him, making her giggle and squeal as he traced his tongue lightly over her warm skin.

  Playing with each other, they continued to grow hot and sticky, and their laughter echoed long into the night.

  Chapter Five

  Merle finally got to bed around two in the morning. Curling up in the sofa bed, a smile on her lips, she fell asleep instantly, exhausted from the remains of jet lag and her active evening. When she awoke, light flooded through the windows, and she could hear Bree and Jake talking, but nobody was up. She checked her watch—it had just gone eight.

  She sat up and looked out of the window. Neon’s tent had vanished. She knew his shift started at eight, so he had probably left a good hour earlier. She’d kept him up awfully late, considering he had to get up early. Well, it was his fault. She’d been prepared to leave after the first time. But he’d seemed as keen as her to make the most of their brief encounter.

  She sighed and lay back, smiling. It had been such a fun evening, the best sex she’d ever had. It was a shame it was over, but at least she had some lovely memories to keep her warm.

  She turned onto her right side and something scratched her arm beneath the covers. Lifting the duvet, she stared at the small bunch of wild flowers tied with a thin piece of flax that had been left there. She lifted them out, pressing them against her nose, inhaling the mild scent. He must have snuck in before he left and put them there. How sweet that he’d taken the time to pick them so early in the morning.

  It was a good job she wasn’t seeing him again. Mr. Feral would be a very difficult man to get over, should you fall for him. Now she understood why Ella had made such a fuss.

  At that moment Bree’s door opened and Merle covered the flowers, not wanting her sister to know about them, in spite of the fact that she had every intention of gloating over her recent sexual success.

  “Morning.” Bree walked across to the bathroom.

  “Morning.” Merle lay on her side, head propped on her hand, waiting for her sister to come out. When she did, Bree only had to take one look at Merle’s face for the penny to drop.

  “No! Last night?”

  Merle held up both hands, showing her ten fingers. “That’s a hundred bucks you owe me.”

  “Twice!” Bree burst out laughing and came and sat on the bed. “You’re kidding me.”

  “Nope.” Merle started giggling. “It was a bit of a squash in his tent though.”

  Bree stared at her, open mouthed. “I’m shocked.”

  “Well, it was your idea.”

  “I’m so pleased for you.” She bent and hugged Merle, then drew back with eager eyes. “Tell me everything. Was he good?”

  “Bree!”

  “Come on, I want to know.”

  “I don’t kiss and tell,” Merle said primly. Then she laughed. “But he was fantastic. Thank you so much for introducing us.”

  “You are very welcome.” Bree’s eyes were mischievous. “But you’ve got three more to go to reach the golden three hundred dollars.”

  Merle rolled her eyes and fell back on the bed, laughing. “It took all my courage to ask Neon—I don’t think I could do it again.”

  Bree shrugged. “I didn’t say it had to be with five different men.”

  Merle sobered. “Oh no. I couldn’t see him again. I…” Her voice tailed off. What was she trying to say? She thought about the flowers currently under the covers about two inches from Bree’s butt. “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she finished lamely. “I don’t want to spoil it.”

  “Spoil it?”

  Merle smiled. “I know what sort of a man he is. A real heartbreaker, if ever I saw one. It was great fun and I enjoyed myself, but I’m content with the treat I’ve had.”

  Bree’s eyes softened. “I understand. I’m glad you had a good time.” She kissed Merle’s forehead. “Now, are you able to get up, or are you going to walk like you’ve been horse-riding for a fortnight?”

  Merle pushed her off the bed. “Don’t embarrass me. Go and tell your husband he has to make me breakfast.”

  Bree went off, laughing. Merle lay back and her hand crept under the covers to find the flowers. Thank goodness she wouldn’t see him again. Because she could very easily fall in love with him, and that most definitely would not end well.

  The next day, Bree had planned them so much to do, Merle thought she wouldn’t have time to think about her wild night with Neon. However, it surprised her how often he crept into her thoughts. While walking around the Te Waimate Mission House, or watching the water tumbling at Rainbow Falls, the thought of him kissing her and the memory of his sandy skin under her fingertips kept popping into her head. Each time, it made her shiver, her cheeks flushing as she thought of how bold she’d been.

  That night when she finally got to bed at Bree and Jake’s house in Kerikeri, she lay there listening to the kiwi birds crying in the bush. She thought of his mischievous brown eyes and the way he’d been so gentle with her, and her mood gradually started to sour.

  For as much as she’d enjoyed herself—and she had, very, very much—part of her had begun to wonder if sleeping with him had been the best idea. Now she couldn’t rid herself of the thought of what it would be like to be married to a man who made her feel like that every day of every year. Imagine going to bed and being able to have sex like that as often as you liked. The thought made her tingle all over, and she cursed as she realised she would now judge every man she met against him and probably find them wanting.

  No, that couldn’t be the case. He was far from perfect. Yes he was gorgeous, but there was no way he was marriage material. She’d slept with him out of a purely physical need, and she had to keep reminding herself of that fact.

  Her ideal man would be as good looking as Neon Carter but would also be interested in the same things as her and wouldn’t be commitment-phobic—a man who would play with her at night and also entertain her during the day with his mind as well as his body.

  However, as she dozed off to sleep, thinking about this mysterious man, he looked surprisingly like the rugby-playing, surfing firefighter she’d had such fun with the night before.

  The following day was Christmas Eve, and during the day, Merle went shopping in town with Bree, buying tree presents for the kids who were going to be at the party Jake’s parents were having that afternoon.

  “Are you sure they don’t mind me coming?” she asked when they stopped for a quick coffee and a bite to eat in one of the many cafes in Bree’s beautiful, tropical town. “I haven’t had a proper invite.” She sipped her latte, admiring the silver fern the barista had managed to create
in the foam of milk on the top. It made her think of the koru in Neon’s tattoo, and she gave a small sigh, trying to concentrate on what Bree was saying.

  “We don’t do invites in New Zealand.” Bree laughed. “Honestly, Merle, it’s so informal here. People are always turning up out of the blue. And anyway, it’s not like a sit-down do or anything, it’s only a barbie. Mum would be horrified.” She grinned. Merle smiled, but there was an underlying tinge of sadness beneath it, and Bree sobered. “Crap, I shouldn’t have mentioned Mum. How was she this morning?”

  “Okay.” Merle didn’t want to spoil her sister’s Christmas Eve. Susan had been tearful and aggressive on the phone, laying on the guilt about being lonely and left on her own. Merle knew her mother had been invited around to her uncle’s house and would love being with all his children and grandchildren, but she still felt bad.

  She’d wanted to cry at the anger and fear tarnishing her mother’s voice. Merle knew Susan loved her and Bree. She tried to tell herself that when Susan said such terrible, hurtful things, it was the after-effects of the illness talking, not her, but deep down, Merle knew her mother had been like this before she grew ill. She’d always been manipulative, even when the girls were younger—it was just now she had a convenient excuse to hide behind.

  Then guilt flooded her. Susan’s insistence that she was still sick, that they hadn’t got all the cancer, meant it was still possible the illness was dictating her behaviour. The doctors had insisted she was clear, but Merle was beginning to wonder whether her mother’s claims that she could almost feel the disease clawing its way through her were just dramatic license intended to make her feel guilty or actually the truth. Might that explain why she was so cruel, so ravaged by fear and hurt?

  It hadn’t helped that Bree had run out to the shops, and Susan had been convinced her daughter was avoiding her. Which was possibly true. Susan had asked how Bree was, hoping, Merle knew, she would say Bree appeared lonely and desperate to come home.