by Jody Holford
“Oh. Yeah. Ha! That makes more sense. But be honest, you were in a bad mood before I got here and it’s not just about missing Christmas with Anna and Sam,” he finally said, running his hand along the bottom of her foot.
She’d never considered feet one of “spots” but the way he ran his hand up and down the instep was making it hard to think.
“Isn’t that enough? I mean, I’m glad you showed up, especially since you brought me presents, but missing Christmas with Anna sucks. I hardly see her anymore as it is.”
“I know. I miss her too. But I’m glad she’s happy. And don’t you guys text like 8000 times a day?” he smiled at her, pushing a little harder on the sole of her foot.
“It’s not the same.”
Kyle watched her eyes close in pleasure from the pressure of his hand on her foot. He should stop touching her because seeing her face like that, watching her pull her bottom lip between her teeth so she didn’t make a sound, was really making it hard to remember she was just his friend.
“By the way, I didn’t see presents for me under the tree,” he said, his voice thick.
“Because they’re in my suitcase, which I haven’t unpacked yet,” she sighed, snuggling down a bit into the couch. “Want to watch the movie?”
He wanted to watch her. He couldn’t help but watch her. She opened her eyes to see that he was.
“Are you going to tell me about your mood?”
“You’re like a girl. You just never let anything go,” she grumbled, making him laugh.
“Is it the ass you’re currently dating?”
She sat up, pulled her foot out of his grasp and grabbed the remote. She turned the volume up and in his mind he thought, “Bingo”.
“For your information, he was not an ass. And I’m not dating him or anyone else right now.”
Her voice was cold enough to make outside seem warm. He hated the thought that another jerk had hurt her. She had no idea how amazing she was and she let guys walk all over her.
“He was an ass and he didn’t deserve you,” Kyle said quietly, adjusting his position on the couch and turning toward the T.V. He loved Miracle on 34th Street. Shit. Maybe he was like a girl.
“You’d think that about anyone. It’s part of why Anna moved. You never thought anyone was good enough.”
The comment had him turning toward her again. He’d already eaten more than his share of guilt for being overprotective of his sister. Their mother had died when they were young and his father had made it clear that Anna wasn’t to experience heartache or pain if they could somehow stop it. Last year, she’d moved to Minnesota to prove her independence and fallen in love with her next door neighbor. He hadn’t been thrilled about it, but knowing that his sister was truly happy went a long way toward making him feel better. She and Sam were getting married this summer.
“There’s nothing wrong with being protective of the people you love. What’s that got to do with me thinking he wasn’t good enough for you though?”
Ouch, she thought. What did his being protective of his sister have to do with anything? Well, she’d kind of thought that he was protective of her in the same vein. But he’d all but spelled out that fact that she wasn’t someone he loved. She supposed that made sense, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.
“Nothing. It has nothing to do with it. Just thought you were being all big-brother-y. Never mind, okay.”
She stared at the T.V., even laughed a little when the reindeer came into the courtroom, but she could feel his eyes on her.
“I wasn’t being big brother-y at all,” he said quietly.
“My mistake,” she snapped.
Did he have to keep rubbing it in? Okay, point made: she wasn’t someone he felt protective of.
“Jordan, look at me.”
She turned to see that he was watching her intensely. She couldn’t read him, which was strange, because they knew each other well. She’d known him for almost longer than she hadn’t. Ignoring the tightening in her chest, she turned back to the show.
“I’m watching a movie.”
She knew she sounded grumpy, bitchy even, but she couldn’t help it. Her ex had been an ass, she did miss Anna, and the idiot sitting on her couch had no idea that the reason none of the other men in her life weren’t good enough was because none measured up to him.
“Jo,” he said softly.
She felt him tugging at the blanket. She held it, gripped in her fist, making him laugh as he continued to tug at it, effectively tugging her closer to him because she wouldn’t let go.
“I’m stronger than you,” he said, pulling her close enough to feel his breath on her face.
“Pfft. I’m not trying,” she said, letting the blanket go.
“You understand what I mean when I say I’m not trying to act like your brother, right?”
“Yes, Kyle. I get it. I’m not your sister. I’m not your family. You’re just stating an opinion that my taste in men sucks. Got it. Can we drop it now?”
She started to move back to her side of the couch but he put his hand on her thigh, completely immobilizing her. She looked down at his hand, tried to ignore the sparks shooting through her, and then back up at his face. His pale blue eyes were as captivating as the lights on the tree.
“I do feel like you’re family. But I don’t think of you like a sister. I never have.”
“Are you trying to hurt me?”
He stared at her, shocked. He loved the feel of her thigh, soft but strong, under his hand. He wanted to squeeze her, touch her, but her words kept him still.
“I would never hurt you. Ever,” he said genuinely. He’d like to kill any guy that had.
“Then why do you keep reminding me that you don’t care about me?”
“What? No, Jordan. No. I said I don’t feel brotherly toward you. What I feel toward you is as far away from brotherly as possible.”
“What does that mean?” she asked, her eyes wide and disbelieving.
“It means that I…well, it’s…fuck it. It means this,” he growled and moved his hand from her thigh to her face and pulled her forward so he could cover that beautiful mouth with his.
He didn’t tread lightly. He’d been waiting so long to feel her lips under his, to feel her under him, that he couldn’t make himself slow down. He wound his other hand up into her loose curls and used them to pull her even closer.
She made a small sound of shock that lasted barely a second before she moaned in pleasure, covered his hands with hers and kissed him back. He felt like a teenager again when she climbed on top of him, rocked against him. Her tongue touched his as he moved his hands down to grip her ass. God, she had a great ass.
Her legs were open, on either side of him, surrounding him, his hands were full of her and he felt like his heart was going to bust right out of his chest. She pulled back, just a little, her hands on his jaw that was overdue for a shave.
“What is this?” she asked with the same awe he felt.
“I don’t know, but please don’t ask me to stop.”
She shook her head as he looked up at her and he was struck by how much he adored her, loved her. He’d always loved her but now that he had her where he’d imagined her so many times, the intensity of it, the depth, blew him away. He stood, keeping his hands on her ass and loving the sensation of her wrapping her legs around him.
Jordan didn’t know how the conversation had gone from him not caring about her to him ravaging her—them ravaging each other. He was every bit the kisser she’d always imagined he would be. Stop? Was he crazy? She hoped he’d never stopped.
“In all these years, I’ve never been upstairs,” he muttered quietly as he walked them toward the stairs.
“No one has. Well, Anna.”
He stopped in the hallway, stared at her as though she’d said something remarkable.
“You date all the time. You’re telling me you’ve never had a man in your room?”
She didn’t know how she could feel shy
when his hands were on her ass and he’d just taken his tongue out of her mouth.
“First of all, just cause I date doesn’t mean I sleep around.”
“I didn’t mean that, honey,” he whispered, kissing her cheek.
Placated, she shared, “It’s my home. I’ve never brought any of my dates here because I never wanted to have those memories when they left,” she whispered. He tipped his head, studied her with a sweetness that made it hard to breathe.
“Why were you so sure they would leave?” he asked carefully.
She didn’t want to do this, standing in the hall, him carrying her and her feeling like she was going to explode from sensation.
“Because they always do,” she said simply.
He kissed her then, hard, with a hint of desperation, squeezing her tighter to him as he started up the stairs. One hand moved up her back, roaming, exciting, enticing. Her fingers wove their way into his hair. She’d always wondered how it would feel on her hands, her neck, her stomach. He stopped at the top of the stairs.
“Which one?”
She used one hand to point down the hall while she nibbled on his neck, pressed her teeth lightly to his ear. He used his foot to push the door open and dropped her on her unmade bed. Putting his hands on his hips, he looked around and laughed.
“Why am I not surprised it’s messy in here?” he asked, eyeing the stacks of laundry and cluttered dresser top.
She pushed up on her elbows and glared at him.
“Hey! Just cause you’re all obsessive-compulsive-neat-freak,” she grumbled.
He looked down at her with a salacious grin on his face.
“Obsessive-compulsive? No. I’m detail oriented; which you will soon appreciate,” he corrected, unbuttoning his shirt.
She watched as each button popped free, as he pulled the shirt off of his strong shoulders, revealing a solidly sculpted chest, corded arms, and surprisingly defined abs with a thin, dark trail of hair moving downward from his naval. She moved her eyes back up slowly, taking in every detail and found his eyes watching her with banked heat.
“You finished looking?” he asked huskily. She shook her head slowly, unsure that she could ever be finished looking at him. “Your turn.”
She grinned, moved, bounced up to her knees on the bed and whipped her tank top off in a flash. She wasn’t sure what was hotter: him or the way he was looking at her. He reached out, ran his index finger along the length of her collarbone, slowly. Just that small touch caused shivers and made her want more. She’d stopped grinning because it was hard to breathe.
“Kyle,” she sighed. His eyes, that had been following the path of his fingertip, moved up to lock with hers.
“You are so fucking beautiful. I’ve wanted you for longer than I can even remember,” he uttered, his voice low and rough. The words were more shocking than his touch.
“You have?”
He moved to her so they were touching, chest to chest, and cupped her face with his hands, using his thumbs to tilt her chin up. He traced the line of her lips with his tongue, making her skin dance.
“I have. How could you not know?”
“You’re always grumpy with me,” she said quietly, staggered by his admission.
“Because you’re always with someone else. Someone who doesn’t deserve you.”
His lips covered hers before she could respond, before she could tell him that no one before him could ever compare to him. How could he not know?
She felt his hands move over her, around to unclasp her bra. She had another moment of shyness, thinking of Kyle Meyers seeing her like this but the thought was washed away by the thrill of sensation when his mouth moved down and covered her.
He couldn’t stop touching her, tracing the shape of her with his hands. He couldn’t get enough. The way she looked at him, he was sure he could look at her forever. He wanted to—it was all he’d ever wanted. He pushed her back gently onto her bed, covered her with his body, let her absorb his weight while he absorbed the feel of her silky skin, the taste of her, the sensation of her hands, her nails, running up his back. Her hair spread out around her like fire—hot, irresistible.
She had no idea how precious she was to him—how much she mattered. He used his hands, glided them over her delicate curves, her quivering stomach, to show her what he couldn’t yet say. He hooked his thumbs in her yoga pants, still amused that she’d changed while he’d been out at his truck. He leaned back, sliding her pants down her long, pale thighs. He took a moment to savor the sight of her in her bikini cut underwear that read, in small letters: On the naughty list. He looked up, chuckling, to see her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Nice,” he nodded as he ran his hand over her, making her smile in return while her eyes darkened to an indecipherable shade of green.
He stood to remove his pants, leaving his boxers on so he wouldn’t be tempted to rush them too much. He’d imagined this so many times: slow and sweet. Hard and fast. He moved back over her, hissed out a breath when she wrapped her legs around him and rocked up into him.
“Jordan,” he breathed out, his forehead on hers. She ran her hands through his hair, and then used her grip to yank him down so she could kiss him. She pushed at him so he moved to his back. He looked up at her, all that red hair falling over her shoulders and his heart pinched so tight, he wondered if he’d ever be the same again.
Jordan pushed her curls back out of her face. She ran her hand up and down Kyle’s delicious stomach and gentle wash of hair on his chest. She placed a small kiss over his heart, making him shudder and squeeze her shoulder. He turned his head and looked down at her, his eyes sated and sweet.
“You all right?” he asked. She smiled, stretched, continued to run her hand up and down.
“Probably a little better than alright, I’d say,” she answered. He turned so she was on her back instead of sprawled on his chest.
“Oh yeah?”
“Mm,” was all she managed before he was kissing her again.
He pulled back sooner than she wanted him too and ran his fingers over her face. She closed her eyes to enjoy the feel of his hands on her, anywhere.
“How many Christmas’ have we spent together?” he asked.
She opened her eyes and tried to figure it out. She’d been spending Christmas with him, Anna and their father for years. Her own family wasn’t big on Christmas, or each other. She’d been welcomed into the Meyers holiday festivities years back. So far, she’d never regretted missing out on whatever dysfunctional family gathering her mom and step-dad or her father and his countless Barbie dolls invited her to join.
“10?” She guessed.
He nodded, placed small kisses on her eyebrows, her cheeks, her nose, before moving down and trailing his lips along the column of her neck.
“Do you know what I’ve wanted every single Christmas for the past ten years?”
Her heart sped up when his eyes found hers. When he looked at her like he was now, like she was all that he could see, she too wondered, how could she not have known? How had she missed this, longed for it and not even realized it was right in front of her. She shook her head slowly, her eyes never leaving his.
“You,” he hissed, making her heart clutch and her breath whoosh in and out quickly.
“But, you’ve always been so prickly,” she said again. This time he shook his head.
“It’s a hell of a thing to watch the woman you love get stomped on by the jerks she dates,” he said.
Her heart stopped at the word love. Just completely stopped. When it started again, she was surprised he couldn’t hear it pounding in her chest.
“Love?”
He smiled down at her, his touch and his gaze so peaceful.
“How could you not know?” he asked again, his mouth tipping up at one corner. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. This had started out as the worst Christmas ever. It didn’t look like it would end that way.
“I didn’t know. I had no idea,” she
whispered, touching his cheek. He leaned into her touch, kissed her palm.
“I love you, Jordan. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.”
She let the tears fall as she threw her arms around him, pushed him onto his back with an inelegant laugh.
“I love you, too.”
He leaned up and pulled her down to kiss her, long and sweet. She pulled back and felt like a fool because she was grinning like a fool.
“What if we’d gone to be with your sister? You wouldn’t have told me,” she asked on a rush.
“I would have told you. I’d already decided that I’d had enough waiting,” he answered.
“You did not,” she scoffed. He pushed back and threw the covers off. She watched, appreciatively as he pulled on his boxers. “Where are you going?”
“To prove it.”
She wasn’t sure what he meant by that. When he left, she threw on a thin nightgown that she had a feeling she wouldn’t be wearing for long. He was only gone a minute or so. She was waiting in the center of her bed, legs crossed when he came back in with the small present she’d grabbed from him earlier.
“Nice jammies. I like that better than the ones you were wearing when I showed up,” he laughed, joining her on the bed.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me I looked like crap,” she groaned.
“You couldn’t look bad if you tried,” he smiled, leaning in to kiss her. He placed the gift in her hand, kissed her again, making her forget for a moment what it was he was proving.
“Open it. You’ll see,” he said cryptically.
“See what?”
“That I wasn’t going to wait any longer.”
She carefully unwrapped the present, awed as always that a man of his size, a man who could have an assistant do all of the small things, took the time to delicately wrap a gift. Her breath caught when she saw the small, square jewelers box. She looked up through her lashes.
“It’s not what you think. Not exactly,” he said, when she paused, with her hand on the lid.