CHRISTMAS IN WHITEHORN

by Susan Mallery

  She breathed his name.

  For a man with a swollen ankle, he moved darned fast, she thought as he eased closer and wrapped an arm around her.

  She told herself to resist. She told herself to pull away. Sex with Mark always made her life more complicated. They'd barely gotten one mess straightened out – did she really want to make a new one?

  He lightly kissed her mouth. Her resolve faded like so much mist as her body went on alert.

  "I don't want to start trouble," she said, even as she wiggled closer to him.

  "We make the best kind of trouble," he whispered, and deepened the kiss.

  Chapter Twelve

  Darcy thought about trying to convince herself that she was being swept away against her will when the truth was she wanted to be with Mark. Being close to him might weaken her resolve to the point where she didn't have a whole lot of choice in the matter, but that was her problem. Not his. She and Mark created some kind of sensual magic when they were together.

  He cupped her face, his fingers warm and gentle as they rested on her cheek. His mouth moved against hers, his tongue stroking her lower lip. His scent surrounded her. Although they'd only made love a handful of times, the moment felt familiar. She knew how he would taste when she parted for him. She anticipated the lean strength of his body, the way his arousal would press against her. She knew his touch, his heat, his need.

  Such knowledge implied an intimacy that frightened her. Her first instinct was to push him away. But her longing was too intense. She could only part her lips and surrender, hoping she was smart enough to keep her heart out of reach.

  His tongue brushed against hers. She moaned softly as feeling swept through her. Her breasts grew more sensitive as her nipples tightened, pushing against her bra. Between her legs, familiar need made her insides heavy as her body anticipated their joining.

  As she went to wrap her arms around him, she found herself trapped against the sofa. Sitting next to each other made the logistics awkward at best. She started to move, then remembered his tender ankle.

  "We have a problem," she said, pulling away and gazing at him.

  He took her hand and drew it down to his crotch. "I think maybe 'massive' would be a better description. Certainly not 'problem.'"

  She closed her fingers around his arousal. Just knowing how much he wanted her made her go all soft. Soft to his hard. She shivered slightly.

  "I meant your ankle," she said. "Our positions here are a little awkward. I'm not sure how to make it easier."

  "You could help me into your bedroom."

  "Yes, I could."

  She rose to her feet, then helped him to his. An hour ago, she'd been furious and hurt. Now she simply wanted to make love with him.

  They moved slowly toward the hall. He hopped, while allowing her to support some of his weight. When they entered her bedroom, they headed for the bed. Mark sat on the mattress, then reached for her, pulling her between his parted legs.

  "What about your ankle?" she asked as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and bent toward him.

  "Let me worry about that."

  They kissed, tongues circling and dancing in a pattern they'd created for just the two of them. The deep, intimate contact made her toes curl. His hands leisurely stroked up and down her back, drawing her closer while touching her all over. He cupped her rear, squeezing the curves, then stroked her hips. From there his hands journeyed up toward her chest.

  He avoided her breasts, instead running his fingers along her arms. Even through her long-sleeved shirt she felt the warmth of his touch. She shivered, then sighed.

  He returned to her waist where he pulled her shirt free of her jeans. As he nibbled her lower lip and breathed her name, he began to unfasten the buttons. One by one. Slowly. Cool air tickled along her bare skin, then her shoulders and arms as he drew off the shirt. He reached for her bra hooks and unfastened them. She dropped her arms to her side and let the garment slip to the floor.

  Her breasts were already swollen in anticipation, her nipples tight. When he broke the kiss on her lips, she caught her breath in anticipation of those same actions repeated on another sensitive spot.

  He read her mind. His hands pressed on her back, urging her forward until he licked her right nipple. Darcy held in a scream. Fire flared from that single point of contact, heating her other breast, her chest, then searing down between her legs. She felt herself dampen instantly. Her jeans felt too tight. Hunger filled her – hunger brought on by a need so powerful she knew she would die if he didn't touch her intimately.

  He licked her, moving from breast to breast, then breathing against the valley between. He bent his head and nipped the sensitive skin on her side.

  "I want you," he said, raising his gaze to hers.

  She saw the need in his eyes, the passion flaring there. She bent to kiss him, as she reached for the buttons on his shirt.

  Her fingers fumbled as her tongue mated with his. Laughing softly, they broke apart to remove the rest of their clothes.

  "We need to be careful," she reminded him as he gingerly removed the sock on his swollen ankle. "Are you sure about this?"

  Mark pulled off his briefs. His arousal sprang free. "Does that answer your question?"

  Her gaze lingered on that most male part of him. She liked the shape of him, the way she could hold him and feel the heavy pulse of his blood.

  "It's a very visual reply," she murmured.

  He eased himself back on the bed. "I don't think we're going to have a problem," he said. "As long as you don't mind being on top."

  Darcy had never been completely comfortable with her body. At least not in the company of other people. But with Mark she felt safe. He'd touched every part of her and his obvious pleasure in pleasing her had made her stop worrying that she wasn't perfect enough.

  "I can be on top," she told him, then imagined herself straddling him, his arousal thrusting into her.

  "Good, then come here."

  He drew her to him, shifting her so that they faced each other. She stared into his eyes, watching his pupils dilate when she reached down to stoke him.

  "Two can play at that game," he teased, brushing her hand away and slipping his fingers between her thighs.

  He found her point of pleasure instantly. She was already swollen and oh, so ready. Her eyes closed of their own accord as she lost herself in the feeling of him touching her. He'd already learned the rhythm she preferred. Slow, then faster as she got closer.

  Over and over, the steady stroking brought her to the edge of madness. He stopped to shift her legs, then continued. But this time was different. She felt his hardness probing. Instinctively she arched toward him, trying to draw him in. But because of their positions he could only enter a little bit, then he retreated. Her inner muscles clenched tightly, as if they could will him to be inside of her. Anticipation fueled her desire. She found herself moving closer and closer as her body tensed.

  "Tell me just before," he whispered.

  She forced herself to open her eyes. "Why?"

  "I'm gonna stop."

  "Mark!"

  "You'll like it. I promise."

  Her eyelids sank closed as he began to move faster. Tension spiraled nearly out of control. She didn't want to stop. She wanted this to go on forever. She wanted—

  "Now!" she cried.

  As promised, he removed his fingers. She gasped in disappointment as the intensity subsided slightly. Then she noticed that he was still pushing against her. Going in a tiny bit, but not fully. All her attention focused on that place where they touched. Tension began to grow again.

  He teased her with his not-quite-entering until she was breathless and begging. Then he stopped that, too.

  Darcy knew she was going to die. Or explode. She couldn't stand it. Not like this. She had to – they had to—

  Still on his side, he bent down and licked her nipple. The contact was better than it had been before. Every part of her was sensitized. She r
olled onto her back, offering herself to him. He bent over her, sucking deeply, using his fingers on one nipple, his tongue on the other. He touched and tormented until a sheen of perspiration covered her body. She could barely catch her breath.

  Finally he raised his head. "About that protection we were discussing earlier."

  She reached for the box of condoms in her nightstand. Her fingers shook as she slipped one on him.

  "I'd like you to get on top of me," he whispered, then smiled a smile that promised paradise. "Slowly."

  She did as he requested, first rising to her knees, then straddling him. He was hard and ready, slipping easily into her waiting wetness. She was so ready. So close. Her first instinct was to ride him. He grabbed her hips to hold her still.

  "Slow," he repeated.

  Her breath caught. She couldn't go slow. She would die. Or explode. Or both.

  It was agony, but she forced herself to raise up in millimeters, then settle back on his length. With her second stroke, he reached between their bodies and rubbed her swollen center.

  The unexpected caress was more than she could stand. She found herself shattering without warning. All thoughts of slow went out of her mind as she pulsed her hips and lost herself in the sensations shooting through her. He continued to rub her, then suddenly he clutched her hips and groaned. She felt him stiffen.

  The last of her contractions faded as contentment filled her. When he drew her into his arms, she went willing, resting her head on his chest and listening to the rapid thunder of his heart.

  *

  They snuggled under the covers. Darcy breathed in Mark's scent and sighed with happiness. Maybe she was being foolish, allowing herself to connect physically with this man, but she couldn't find it in her heart to feel regret. Maybe that would come later, but for now there was only a sense of belonging.

  Mark wrapped his arms around her and stroked her hair, wrapping her curls around his fingers, then releasing them.

  "I've missed you," he told her. "I missed talking to you."

  She didn't want to analyze his words too much, or read more into them than he meant, so she settled for the easiest, most honest response.

  "Me, too."

  "Tell me what's been going on in your life since we were last together."

  "I got the baking contract at the Hip Hop. I'm going to see Melissa tomorrow after my shift and we'll decide on what I'll be baking and how much."

  "Hey, that's great." He squeezed her. "Are you going to have to give up sleep to get it all done?"

  "Maybe. But it's worth it." She hesitated. "I'm not trying to get rich. I need the money to pay for Dirk's school."

  Mark rolled onto his back and settled her with her head on his shoulder. "I've never been to the Madison School, but I've heard about it. It has a great reputation."

  "I know." She tilted her head so she could look at him. "We knew pretty early that there was something different about Dirk. My dad completely freaked out. He would- n't have anything to do with him. My mom went in the other direction. She became completely absorbed with his problems, and wanted to fix him. When she found out there wasn't a cure for what he had, she turned her back on him, as well."

  Darcy pressed her hand against Mark's chest. "I was too into my own life to realize what was going on. To me, Dirk was my brother. I loved him, we had fun together. End of story. It wasn't until my parents died and I was responsible for him that I began to worry about his future."

  "Is he the reason you moved to Arizona?"

  "Part of it. There was a decent school where we were, but after all our friends abandoned us, I didn't see the point in staying. I wanted to try living somewhere warm. Dirk was in a day program there and he was really doing well, but as he got older, he needed more."

  "How old is he?"

  "Fourteen." She smiled. "He's a great kid. Funny and caring. But he's growing taller every year and it became difficult to find a baby-sitter for when I wasn't home. Plus he needed more one-on-one attention. I found out about the Madison School. They're different in that they focus on preparing teenagers like Dirk for the real world. They have a fabulous staff and an excellent curriculum."

  "How do you pay for it?"

  She raised herself up on her elbow. "Not by laundering money."

  "Ouch."

  She lightly kissed him. "Sorry. I was teasing. Actually I've been getting by. I had some savings when we moved here and the school lets me pay monthly. That money you saw in my music box is my entire savings account."

  "You shouldn't keep it in cash."

  "I know. But I get paid in cash and getting to the bank is one more thing I don't have time to do. The good news is that one of Dirk's counselors told me that he thinks we'll be eligible for financial aid. I'm trying not to get my hopes up, but if they could cover even half of his school, it would be a huge help."

  "And in the meantime you work two jobs."

  She shrugged. "I've worked three before. This is hardly new to me."

  He studied her, his green eyes dark and unreadable. "You're an amazing woman, Darcy Montague. I'm impressed."

  His words made her feel all warm inside. "Don't be. I'm just taking care of my brother. It's not all that different from what you did with your sister when your parents died."

  "It's very different. I looked after Maddie for a couple of years. You've signed up for a lifetime of commitment."

  His words made her uncomfortable. Not because of the praise, but because she suspected she knew what was coming next. Now that Mark knew about her brother and all that was involved with caring for him, Mark would be heading for the hills.

  She shifted so that she was lying next to him, on her back and staring at the ceiling. By blinking very fast, she managed to keep the tears at bay. Part of her wanted to scream out against the unfairness of it all. Part of her wanted to tell him that if he was leaving he should try to keep the door from hitting him on the ass.

  "I'd like to meet him."

  The unexpected words hung in the room like balloons. She stopped blinking. A single tear slipped out of the corner of her eye and ran toward her temple.

  "What?"

  Mark leaned over her. "I said I would like to meet your brother. Why are you crying?"

  She sniffed. "I'm not."

  "I saw a tear."

  "I have something in my eye."

  "Liar." He spoke the word gently, then brushed her mouth with his. "I mean it, Darcy. I would like to meet Dirk. Unless you think it would be too weird for him."

  She didn't know what to say. No one had ever wanted to meet Dirk before. She'd learned to stop expecting that kind of miracle.

  She gazed at Mark's face and reminded herself that this man might look pretty amazing on the outside, but on the inside, he still didn't trust women very much. She had to make sure she didn't fall in love with him.

  "It's a long drive," she said, trying to give him an out in case he'd just been being polite.

  "I know where the Madison School is. Are you trying to tell me you don't want me to meet him?"

  "No. I just—" She smiled. "I'm going next Saturday. You're welcome to join me."

  "I'd like that."

  *

  "Move them to the right," Darcy called. "Santa has to be centered."

  Josh glowered at her from his place on the roof. "Is this where I remind you that I'm doing this as a favor to a friend. I'm not getting paid and I don't care if Santa is centered or straight or even up. It's cold and I'm hungry."

  Darcy smiled. "I'm sorry, Josh. Did you say something?"

  Josh turned his attention to Mark. "You should be able to talk some sense into her."

  "You'd think, but you'd be wrong."

  Mark chuckled as his friend straightened the plastic Santa covered in lights, all the while grumbling about people being perfectionists over the stupidest things. He thought about explaining that he hadn't exactly tap-danced at the thought of spending an evening in the frigid night air hanging lights and putting
up Christmas decorations, but Darcy had asked him to help and he'd been unable to refuse her. The fact that his ankle wasn't a hundred percent meant that he'd had to call in reinforcements.

  He finished stapling the white lights around the porch about the same time Josh climbed down off the roof. Darcy eyed their work critically.

  "Very nice," she said.

  Mark joined her, limping only slightly. It was Wednesday. His ankle had continued to hurt through Monday but then had started to heal. He rested his weight on his good leg and resisted the urge to put his arm around Darcy. Since they'd had their heart-to-heart talk, they'd been spending their evenings together, although not their nights. Mark wasn't sure he was ready to be back in her bed. Something profound had happened the last time they'd been intimate.

  Somehow, sharing his past and hearing more about her brother had changed things. It was as if in the telling of their secrets, they'd shifted their relationship. He didn't want to think about what that meant. Trust still wasn't easy for him. He'd been completely wrong about Sylvia, and while that didn't mean he couldn't be right about Darcy, he wanted to be sure. There was no way he was going to make another mistake like that one.

  Darcy snuggled close, wrapping her arms around him as she gazed at the duplex. "Does it make you believe in miracles?"

  "We must not be looking at the same thing."

  He saw a slightly tired building with half outlined in white lights. A flashing Santa sat above the center of the porch. No doubt she saw a wonderland.

  "Don't be cynical," she told him. "You both did a great job. I really appreciate it."

  "Yeah, well, you're welcome," Josh muttered ungraciously. "Now I'm going home before I freeze to death."

  "Do you want to come inside first?" Darcy asked. "I feel badly making you do work and then sending you off on an empty stomach. I have carrot cake."

  Josh laughed. "Darcy, you already gave me two dozen cookies and a pumpkin loaf. I don't need anything else."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Positive." Josh gave them a wave and headed for his truck.