No doubt she could fill it, Hank thought. “That’s why I’m still looking.” He leaned forward and slid the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. “But I believe that I’ve just narrowed the search.” He gently slid his lips over hers, just the briefest kiss. “What do you say, Viv? Will you spend some time with me?” he whispered, a hairsbreadth from that sweet, tempting mouth.
She leaned closer, returned his gesture with the smallest brush of a kiss. “I don’t have a Christmas tree,” she said, as though that would make a difference.
Hank chuckled softly against her mouth, then framed her face with his hands. “No problem,” he told her. “I can hook you up.”
Then he slanted his lips over hers...and tasted forever.
CHAPTER 7
Oh, sweet Lord, could this man kiss, Viv thought as she leaned forward and tangled her tongue around his. It was urgent and unhurried, desperate and divine and she’d never--never--enjoyed tasting a man as much as she did Hank Bailey. The heavy weight of want settled into her belly and slid purposely toward her sex. She could feel her pulse hammering in the heart of her womb, her nipples pearling against her bra. Her limbs were heavy but almost graceful as she twined them around his neck and drew him closer to her to deepen the kiss.
Hank’s masculine purr of pleasure reverberated in her mouth, a growl of satisfaction that made her smile against his lips. He sucked her tongue into his mouth, feeding at her, then sampled her bottom lip, carefully probing the sensitive inside of her mouth.
Though she wasn’t exactly certain how she got there, a moment later Viv was settled firmly in his lap. He tunneled his fingers into her hair, then kissed a path along her jaw line and gently nipped at her ear. She wiggled against him, feeling oddly safe and protected in his embrace.
Which was strange when she could feel his erection against her hip, could literally feel the tension coming off of him in waves. He ran one of those big wonderful hands down her back, then settled it against her rump and gave a little squeeze. Like a nitrous button in a racecar, the gentle pressure sent another burst of longing into her already sizzling blood.
Sweet mother, she wanted.
She kissed his neck as well, then lightly bit and licked the nonexistent wound. She mapped his body with her hands, enjoying the feel of hard muscle, of those impossibly broad shoulders against her hands.
It would be even better if he were naked, Viv thought.
The thought, while true, was also sobering. She’d just met him and she’d already crawled into his lap. While she was guilty of all sorts of bad behavior--flipping off the occasional driver, ignoring phone calls from her mother, tearing the Do Not Remove tags from all of her pillows--being a tramp wasn’t one of them.
Sexually frustrated and slightly mortified, Viv slowly ended the kiss, then rested her forehead against his. “Hmmm. How did I get in your lap?” she asked. “Did you pull me over here or did I climb all over you?”
“Does it matter?”
“Not in the grand scheme of things. I’m just trying to figure out when I became such a slut,” she said, laughing softly.
“You’re not a slut. You’re into me,” he said, obviously pleased with himself. “That just means that you’ve got very good taste and that you find me irresistible. A man likes that in a woman.” Eyes sparkling with humor, he drew back and kissed her again. “But I’m fairly confident that I dragged you over here.”
She inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. “Good,” she said. “I might be easy, but at least I’m not forward.”
Hank chuckled. “You crack me up.”
“I live to entertain.”
Another rumble of laughter. “Somehow I doubt that.” He frowned. “You really don’t have a Christmas tree?”
Damn. She’d said it as a token protest, but had hoped he’d forgotten. “No,” she said, expelling a sigh. They were treading into dangerous territory here.
“Change of plans then. Why don’t you choose a tree tomorrow, and I’ll bring it by your house tomorrow night. I’ll bring dinner. You make cake.”
Viv nodded. “That sounds good.”
* * *
“Sorry I’ve had to bail on you the past couple of nights,” Hank said as dragged a giant tree--not the small one she’d picked out--into her living room via the front door.
Though she’d been deeply disappointed and working at the farm had been a bit lonely without him, Viv merely smiled. “No problem. Duty calls.”
And duty had called in the form of his father who’d gone into negotiations with one of the bigger big box stores and had needed his help. What was supposed to have only taken a couple of hours had ended up taking a couple of days--two of her days with him at the farm. She never thought she’d see the day when she would regret seeing her community service coming to an end, she did.
Tomorrow was her last day.
Still, Viv had been heartened because he’d called her several times just to talk and they’d logged in hours and hours of conversation. It was pathetic how the simple sound of his voice made her feel like joy was bubbling out of her pores.
Furthermore, she’d gotten quite a bit of work done on his design. As a matter of fact, she had a preliminary mock-up in place and planned to show it to him tonight. For reasons she couldn’t explain, she’d yet to deposit his check and book her flight to London. She didn’t know why. It was the dream trip of a lifetime, but despite knowing that she could comfortably afford to take the much anticipated vacation, she couldn’t shake the sense that she was just waiting on the other shoe to drop. She inwardly grimaced. Past experience, she supposed.
Hank paused in the middle of her living room and looked around. “Where do you want it?”
“In front of the window, I suppose.”
“Is that where you normally put your tree?”
Back to that sticky wicket, were they? “To be honest, I’ve never had one before.”
In the process of loading the tree onto the stand he’d brought as well, Hank paused, a comically shocked expression on his handsome face. “This is your first Christmas tree?”
“As an adult, yes,” she admitted smally, waiting for the fall out. He’d confided on the phone that he’d culled a girl for using an artificial tree--she couldn’t imagine how he would react to knowing that she’d never had a tree--but he had to find out sooner or later and sooner seemed like the better alternative considering...she didn’t have any ornaments. He’d mentioned something about his expertise in stringing lights and suspected that he’d come here tonight expecting to trim the tree as well.
Er...no.
But she had made a cake. She smiled brightly. “Would you like a piece of cake?”
“Not before dinner.” He settled the tree into the stand and stood back to admire his handiwork, then turned to face her once more. “Are you serious? Are you allergic to evergreen? Do your religious beliefs prevent you from celebrating the holiday?”
“No and no.”
“You think it’s wasteful to use live trees?”
“Not particularly, no.”
Hank frowned. “Work with me here, Viv. What’s the problem? He gestured around her living room at her Thanksgiving decorations, which were still proudly on display. “It’s obvious you don’t have any aversions against decorating. Nice place, by the way,” he added as an afterthought.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“So?”
Viv sank onto her couch. She knew this conversation was coming, she’d just been dreading it. He was a Christmas tree farmer and she was a Christmas season hater. At some point, the truth had to come out. Selfishly, she was just hoping that they’d get to make love first.
“Do you remember when I told you that my parents divorced when I was eight?”
He nodded. “I said it when you told me and I’ll say it again. Your father sounds like a worthless piece of shit.”
Her heart warmed at his outrage on her behalf. “Thank you.”
“Anyway--“ She blew out
a breath. “--what I didn’t mention was that he walked out on Christmas morning.” She swallowed, steepled her fingers against her chin. “It sort of tainted the holiday for me,” she said, forcing an uncomfortable smile.
Hank swore. “I reckon that would do it. I’m sorry, Viv. You should have told me. I wouldn’t have foisted this tree upon you.”
“No,” she hastened to tell him. “The tree is beautiful and it’s all the more special because you brought it. I’m an adult. I should be able to get over this, right? And on many levels I have, but something about Christmas brings it all rushing back.”
“Well, it would, wouldn’t it?” he said. He sat down next to her, slung an arm around her shoulder and tugged her up against him.
God, she loved the way she felt when she was in his arms, a little delight she’d gotten to experience again today when they’d snuck off the wood shed for a minute earlier today. Her body, as impossible as it seemed, literally craved him. She ached for him.
“That would be a tough thing to swallow. Eight years old, probably still believed in Santa Claus and your cretin of a father selfishly ruined it for you.” He pressed a kiss against her temple. “You know what you need to do, right?”
“What?”
“Make better Christmas memories.”
“I’ve got a few,” she said. “I go to my mother’s every year. My sister’s kids are great. We’re still close, you know? Despite what happened. But...”
“Those are memories that someone else is making for you. Your mother’s house, your sister’s kids. You’re a participant, but you’re not actively doing anything to change your definition of the holiday. You need to do something for you.”
Touched by his concern and impressed with his insight, Viv jerked her head toward the mantle and a ghost of a smile shaped her lips. “I am, actually. See that snow globe?”
“I do.”
“That’s Hyde Park in London. Provided no disaster strikes and I have to spend the money on something else before I book my ticket, I’m going there this year. The day after Christmas.”
“Wow,” he said, whistling low. “I’ve always thought I’d like to go to London. There’s a lot of history there. You’re going to Stonehenge, right?”
She nodded, wishing that she had the courage to ask him to go with her. Things had moved at warp speed between them, most particularly her feelings. If she had any sense at all, she’d be terrified. As it was, she just wanted him to stay with her. Forever would work.
“I am going to Stonehenge.”
“You’ll have to tell me all about it when you get back.”
Excellent, Viv thought. That implied that he was thinking about them in the short term at least. Her heart gave a little flutter of joy. “I will.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“Two weeks,” she told him. “I’m going to ring in the New Year over there.”
He winced. “Damn. There go my plans.”
Her stomach dipped and her gaze swung to his. “What?”
“I was hoping you’d spend New Year’s with me.”
Wow. She smiled, torn, and a nervous laugh tittered up her throat. Trip of a lifetime? New Year with Guy of a Lifetime? “Er...”
“Take your trip,” he said, nudging her encouragingly. His intense, slightly hesitant gaze searched hers. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
It happened right then. She knew because she felt it instantly bud and blossom in her heart, like a magical flower.
Impossibly, against reason, logic and plain old common sense, she fell head over heels in love with Hank Bailey. She’d been hovering since the moment she’d seen him again and now...
She was lost.
Viv leaned over and gently pressed a kiss to his lips. “Stay with me tonight,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.
Hank deliberately drew her into his lap and kissed her deeply. Gooseflesh skittered up her spine and settled in the back of her neck. He smiled against her lips. “Why do you think I brought the tree?”
CHAPTER 8
Viv chuckled against his lips as he picked her up and carried her toward her bedroom. “I thought you were trying to get me into the Christmas spirit.” She grinned. “But now I realize you were just trying to get me into bed.” She tsked. “That’ll put you on the naughty list, you know.”
He started down the hall. “Hey, I’ve been a gold member of the nice club my entire life. I think I’m in better company with you.”
Feigning offense, she drew back. “What do you mean ‘with you’?”
“You slugged Santa Claus, babe. He might have deserved it, but I’m certain that landed you on the naughty list with Big Red.”
She made a thoughtful moue. “I imagine you’re right.” She tugged his shirt from the waistband of his jeans. “Well, if I’m already on the naughty list, I might as well take advantages of the perks.”
Hank laughed. “I’m a perk?” he asked, fishing for the compliment. She tossed his fleece pullover aside and licked a deliberate path up the side of his neck. His breath hissed through his teeth.
“Definitely.”
Hank laid her down on the bed, then slid in along beside her. “Ho, ho, ho,” he murmured, determinedly snapping each of the three snaps on the front of her shirt.
Black lace, creamy porcelain skin, a hint of dusky nipple behind the fabric...
God help him.
Hank traced a gentle swell with his index finger. “You’re beautiful. Have I told you that yet?”
A soft smile curled her lips and she cupped his jaw with her small hand. “Many times, thank you. You’re not too bad yourself.” She released a stuttering breath as he bent and pulled a taut bud into his mouth, suckling her through the fabric. “You make my belly go all hot and muddled. I’ve been lusting after you since the moment you walked into the gift shop.”
“Really?” He liked the sound of that.
She slid her hands over his bare shoulders, measuring his skin against her palms and the contact made a shiver slip up his spine.
“I love your shoulders,” she murmured, her voice laced with want. “I’ve thought about doing this many, many times.” She bent forward and nipped at his shoulder, then carefully licked the spot she’d bitten.
He’d been hard since the moment he’d walked into her door. Impossibly, his dick felt like it had just turned to granite. He winced as equal parts pleasure and pain bolted through him.
He’d wanted to take his time, to take it slow.
Slow wasn’t going to be an option, especially if she kept talking to him like that. Viv slid her hand down over his belly and carefully loosened the button on his jeans from its closure. He sucked in a breath as she negotiated the zipper. Half a second later he was in her palm and the breath he’d been holding leaked out of him with a long hiss.
Slow was definitely out of the question.
He needed her naked. Now.
Her shirt landed in the floor with his, her jeans got kicked to the foot of the bed. The matching thong to her bra--also removed--was so pretty he almost decided to leave it on, but one stroke over her weeping mons with his fingers changed his mind.
She worked her hand over his shaft, thumbed the head of his dick, then leaned forward and kissed him again. The kiss was hot and frantic, mimicking sex as her tongue darted in and out of his mouth. He felt a single bead of moisture leak from the head of his penis and knew that he was in serious danger of being finished before they ever official began.
He left off her mouth--reluctantly--then kissed a path over each of her breasts and down her sweetly curved belly. She smelled like warm vanilla and musky woman and he was drunk on her scent, hers for the taking.
Hank slipped a finger, parting her curls, then lowered his head between her legs and lapped at her clit.
Gratifyingly, she inhaled sharply and fisted her hands in the sheets. “Hank,” she said warningly.
“You taste good,” he murmured, licking her deliberately. He slid a fi
nger deep into her channel and hooked it around, looking for that sweet spot that would make her--
She swore and bucked against him.
Ah...there, he thought, smiling against her.
“I’m so going to get you back for this,” she said, her voice a broken threatening chuckle.
“That’s the idea, sweetheart,” he said, lapping harder against her.
“Not this way,” she said, her breath coming in broken little pants. “I want you inside of me.” She tightened around him, her body priming for release. “Please.”
As if that was a plea he could refuse. Hank fished a condom from his wallet and swiftly rolled it into place. Three seconds later he was positioned between her thighs, nudging her slickened folds. Her violet gaze tangled with his.
Cupid’s bow lips swollen from his kisses, long curly black hair spread out over a purple satin pillow, puckered nipples pouting for him, her legs open, welcoming him in...
Something in his chest tightened, then broke apart. He pushed into her...and fell in love.
CHAPTER 9
Viv watched a series of unreadable emotions flash across Hank’s woefully familiar face, then he smiled...and filled her up.
She gasped, drawing her legs back to give him more access. His lips peeled away from his gritted teeth as he angled deep. She met him thrust for thrust, could feel the climax ripening in her sex. She was burning up from the inside out, her skin felt too tight for her body and the only thing that mattered in this moment was their connection. She loved the big, hard feel of him. To say that Hank was well-proportioned would be a vast understatement. He was gloriously huge and her body was savoring every, long hardened inch of him.
He bent his head and suckled her right breast again and she winced with pleasure. It felt as though a golden thread ran from the tip of nipple to the heart of her clit and every tug of his talented mouth coupled with every determined thrust put her that much closer to release.
Viv slid her hands down over his back, tracing the fluted indentation of his spine, then settled her palms over his amazing ass--the one she’d been staring at all week--and gave a squeeze. Gratifyingly, he smiled. “You like my ass?”
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