Her Montana Christmas Groom

by Southwick, Teresa

  She cupped his cheek. “Austin, if you don’t kiss me now, I’m going to—”

  And then his mouth was on hers and she threw her arms around his neck, threading her fingers through his hair. He pulled her as close as the thickness of their jackets would permit but it wasn’t nearly close enough. He nestled his knee between her legs and she trailed the heel of her boot down the back of his thigh, amazed that it could be so erotic even with all their clothes on.

  Their lips touched and tasted and trailed fire, but the rest of her was starting to feel the cold. Her jeans were soaked now and she tried to hold back a shiver because she knew he would end this and she wanted it to go on forever. But the trembles wouldn’t be suppressed and Austin knew.

  He pulled back and looked at her. “I’m such an idiot. You’re freezing.”

  “No, don’t stop. I’m fine. I—” Want you, she almost said. She wanted him here and now. In the snow. Freezing her butt off. And she would have, too. Except for one thing. He was right. She was shaking from cold.

  He stood and pulled her to her feet, then got her to the truck and lifted her inside. “I’m getting you home now.”

  When Austin drove into the parking lot at her apartment building, Rose’s teeth were chattering and she could barely talk.

  “The damn heater in this truck is useless. Go inside and get out of those wet things,” he ordered.

  “W-wow, you s-sure know how to s-sweet talk a girl.”

  “This is serious, Rose. Go take a hot shower and get warm. I’ll handle the tree.”

  “B-but—”

  “Now,” he snapped. “I’m not arguing about this with you.”

  A violent shiver rocked her and she nodded. She slid out of the truck and couldn’t feel her feet but managed to move her legs and get upstairs, leaving the door unlocked so he could bring in the tree before he left. In the bathroom she shed the wet jeans, sweater and under things, then got in the hot stream of water. Once she warmed up and the stinging stopped, it was replaced by a different sort of ache. Wanting Austin.

  Reluctantly, she turned off the shower, got out and dried herself off. After taking off the shower cap, she brushed her hair, then put on a gray fleece sweatshirt and matching drawstring pants.

  She thought the yearning for Austin was a phenomenon of the forest. Hoped it was an aberration of the outdoors. Wrong and wrong. Even back on her own turf she wanted him. But she’d told him straight out that intimacy should mean something. And given his emotional baggage, she wasn’t sure it could for him. He wasn’t likely to get serious after a public proposal and the subsequent humiliation.

  It was her own fault that he’d unloaded her tree and then went home to get warm. That was a depressing thought. Not that he’d get warm. It was the going home part. The day had been so much fun. She had her first real, live Christmas tree. Then she’d hit him with a snowball and he took her down. They both got wet and cold. Now her very own lumberjack wasn’t here to share a warm drink or anything else and her spirits took a dive.

  Until she came out of her bedroom.

  Austin was in her living room, squatting in front of her fireplace, poking at the blaze he’d started.

  “Hey,” she said. “You’re still here.”

  He glanced over his shoulder and stood. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  How sweet and chivalrous was that?

  “I’m fine. Warm.” She walked closer to the fire and held out her hands to the flames. “This is wonderful. Thanks.”

  “My pleasure.”

  She looked around the living room. “Where’s the tree?”

  “I hosed it off to remove any loose needles. And critters.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You know. Bugs. Woodland creatures. Stuff that belongs outside.”

  “The city slicker in me will be grateful to you forever.”

  “Don’t mention it.” He grinned. “Now the tree has to dry off outside for a while.”

  “Of course. That’s basic Christmas tree setup, but I’m such a newbie. Seriously, Austin, thanks.” She put her hand on his arm and felt the still damp material. His jeans and boots were soaked. He’d been rolling around in the snow, too, and probably got even wetter when he washed off the tree.

  “You need to get out of these sopping clothes before you catch your death.”

  “I’m fine. I’ll just head for home—”

  “I’d let you go, but it’s too far. And you’re right. The heater in the truck is useless. You’re already chilled and I won’t have you getting sick. My conscience couldn’t take it. I’m not taking no for an answer. Use my shower. I’ll get you a fresh towel. And a blanket to use while your stuff is in the dryer. You’ll be good to go in no time.”

  He took his wallet and keys out of his jeans, then set them on the coffee table. “Okay. I know when to pick and choose my battles with a redhead.”

  “And don’t you forget it. Now scoot.” Rose led the way down the hall and got a fresh towel out of the linen closet. For some reason she couldn’t stop talking. “I’d give you a robe, but the color would be all wrong.”

  He grinned. “Not to mention it wouldn’t fit.”

  “There is that.” Then she backed out of the bathroom and shut the door. “Just throw your clothes in the hall and I’ll put them in the dryer.”

  She set a blanket on the chair by the fire, then waited in the kitchen, wondering if he’d like tea or hot chocolate to warm him up. Or wine. She’d heard it dilated capillaries and increased blood flow to generate warmth. Brandy or cognac would be more sophisticated, but she didn’t have the snifters or that kind of liquor. Wine she could do.

  Nerves she could do, too. But seriously, what was there to be nervous about?

  And then Austin was standing there with the towel knotted low on his hips. She couldn’t take her eyes off his bare, broad shoulders and wide chest with the masculine dusting of hair.

  “There’s a blanket over there,” she said, putting a fair amount of prim in her voice to mask how deeply the sight of him affected her.

  The amused look in his eyes said he wasn’t fooled. “I’m fine.”

  Yes, you are fine, she thought.

  “How about some tea? Or hot chocolate? Or wine?” Anything so she could do something with her hands, keep busy. Ease the tension coiling inside her.

  “Wine,” he said.

  “How about a pinot noir?”

  “That works for me.”

  While she busied herself with opening the bottle, getting glasses and pouring, Austin used the fireplace poker to move the wood and stir up warmth. She brought over two wineglasses about a quarter full and set them on the coffee table beside his wallet. Straightening, she admired his wide shoulders and that’s when she saw the tattoo on his shoulder blade that she’d spent far too much time wondering and fantasizing about.

  It was a tree with roots, giving the illusion of growing deep into the ground. On one of the branches there was a bird with wings spread, preparing to take flight. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected the rebellious, teenaged Austin would have chosen. Maybe something along the lines of “Live fast, love hard. The kid.”

  A tribute to his mother’s philosophy on raising children had never occurred to Rose. This permanent tribute to the memory of the woman who’d raised him was testament to his depth of character and evidence of a maturity beyond his years.

  Rose raised a hand and traced the roots. “I like your tattoo.”

  “I’m glad.”

  His voice was husky and his eyes gleamed with intensity when he half turned and encircled her wrist with his hand. He lifted her fingers to his lips and kissed each one. The want and need coiled in her belly exploded and surged through her. No way was she cold now.

  “Austin—” The prim was gone and left pleading in its place. “When I insisted you stay and get warm, it’s because I really—”

  “Yeah, Red. I want you, too.” He took a strand of her hair and rubbed it between his f
ingers. “Pretty much from the moment we met I knew we were heading in this direction.”

  “You did?” Heart pounding, she stared up at him, the flames in the hearth highlighting the intensity on his face. His brown eyes went almost black. “Even though I refused to go out with you?”

  His mouth turned up at the corners. “I knew it would be all the sweeter. What comes too easily isn’t cherished as much as what we have to work for.”

  “And why did you persevere?”

  “Because I couldn’t not pursue you.” He cupped her cheek in his hand. “I couldn’t walk away from you. I couldn’t stop wanting you.”

  And then he pulled her against him. All that separated them was his towel and her sweats. Fleece had never felt so confining. He wrapped a strong arm around her waist, holding her close. Then he threaded the fingers of his other hand through her hair and lowered his mouth to hers.

  Rose opened to him, giving him free access. He tasted like cinnamon, spice, everything nice and the kiss grew more urgent as their tongues tangoed and touched and teased. Her breasts were pressed against the wall of his chest and she wanted to feel her bare skin against his bare skin.

  She pulled back and struggled to draw air into her lungs. Then she took his hand and said, “Let’s go in the bedroom.” He shook his head and disappointment flooded her. “I thought you wanted me—”

  “More than you can possibly imagine. But here.” He reached over and grabbed the blanket from the chair where she’d left it, then spread the thick softness in front of the hearth. His gaze never left hers as he traced a strand of hair that was falling over her breast, then finally curved his fingers into a fist around it. “I want to see the flames dance in your hair. I need to see the fire in your eyes when I make love to you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Rose’s heart melted at his words. When Austin held out his hands, she put hers into his palms and they knelt on the blanket, facing each other in front of the fireplace. She could feel the warmth from the blaze, but that’s not what made her hot. His eyes glowed with such breathtaking intensity that the snapping flames couldn’t begin to duplicate the heat. It was a look that seared her skin and slammed straight to her soul. More than words ever could, the passion in his eyes said she was his.

  He kissed her and no part of their bodies was touching except hands and lips. He just nibbled slowly, letting her get the feel of him until she wanted more. It wasn’t long before she was overwhelmed by the need to feel her bare flesh pressed against his and he seemed to sense that exact moment.

  Dropping her hands, he settled his fingers at the hem of her sweatshirt and tugged it up and over her head.

  “Christmas came early this year,” he said with a grin.

  “Why?” Did that breathless voice really belong to her?

  “Because you’re not wearing a bra.”

  Her heart was pounding so hard that it was about to jump out of her chest. “Then you’re really going to be happy when you unwrap the rest of the package.”

  He traced a finger over her collarbone and down the center of her bare chest. “You should know I like to enjoy one present at a time. Concentrate before moving on. Attention to detail…”

  Because that’s what an engineer did, she thought. A second later she couldn’t think at all because he was tracing the tip of her breast with his finger, circling the nipple. Her stomach clenched and every part of her wept with anticipation. Between her thighs, tension coiled and twisted.

  He took her breast in his mouth, flicking his tongue over the sensitive peak. Sexual current charged and sizzled through her, setting her on fire everywhere. Her head fell back, moving her chest closer to him, giving him free access to all of her. And he boldly took what he wanted.

  He moved to her other breast, lavishing the sensitized skin with the same lazy, loving attention to detail. She couldn’t hold back a moan and staying upright wasn’t an option.

  Rose sat and settled her hand on the smattering of hair over his wide chest. Feeling his heart hammering beneath her fingers, she smiled with delight. Her palms tickled and tingled until she touched his shoulders. Austin slid his arm around and lowered her to the blanket as her eyes drifted shut.

  He kissed each of her eyelids, then whispered, “Look at me.”

  She did and her breath caught when she felt him slide her sweat pants over her thighs and down her legs until she could kick them off. Now she was as naked as the day she was born, on the floor of her living room with Austin.

  “I see it now.” His voice was deep and husky, as he stared into her eyes. “The fire. I knew it was there.”

  For him. She was burning for him.

  And apparently he felt the same. His arousal was evident and somewhere, somehow he’d lost the towel. Christmas had definitely come early for her, too.

  She couldn’t seem to get enough air into her lungs but managed to say, “This isn’t a date, right?”

  “Not even close.” His breathing was ragged as he slid his hand down over her belly and between her thighs. “But Christmas gets better and better.”

  “Fa la la la la,” she said.

  Then she couldn’t have answered if her life depended on it. He found the incredibly sensitive bundle of feminine nerve endings and brushed his thumb across it. The touch sent jolts through her and she arched her back, pushing herself into his hand.

  “Oh, Austin— Please—”

  And then she couldn’t say anything. Her whole body clenched, just before shock waves of pleasure rolled through her, pulling her apart. But Austin’s strong arms held her together.

  When she finally caught her breath, she looked at him, “I don’t have the words…”

  He touched a finger to her lips. “You don’t have to say a word. Everything you’re feeling is in your eyes.”

  He kissed her and it was like setting a match to dry kindling. She was going up in flames all over again and her only coherent thought was to feel him inside her. Again, Austin seemed to know what she needed even before she did. He reached over and grabbed his wallet on the coffee table, then pulled out a square packet.

  Condom.

  Mentally she smacked her forehead, even as what was left of her heart melted. Protection hadn’t even crossed her mind, but Austin was taking good care of her. Then rational thought disappeared and all she could focus on was him.

  He braced his hands on either side of her, taking his weight on his arms. Nudging her legs apart with his knee, he settled over her. The firelight turned his dark eyes to hot coals as he gently pushed inside her. The feeling was so good, so right as they became one.

  Cupping his face in her hands, she pulled him to her for a deep kiss. He groaned and the sound of his surrender made her smile.

  And then he was moving, slowly at first, letting her catch his rhythm. She matched him, stayed with him and they rocked together to a tune both could hear. The tension built until they were breathing hard, the sound beautifully harsh in cadence with the crackle of the blaze beside them. Without warning she felt her muscles clench before she shattered into a thousand points of light. Two heartbeats later, he went still, then thrust one last time before groaning out his own release.

  He buried his face in her neck as his breathing slowed. Then he rolled to his side and took her with him, wrapping his arms around her. Rose had never felt safer and more protected or cherished in her life. She snuggled closer to him and his hold on her tightened.

  “I want you again,” he whispered against her hair. “In your bed. And my recuperative powers are pretty awesome, if I do say so myself.”

  Because he was the age he was. That thought brought all the doubts back because she was who she was. No man had ever loved her like that before, but the things standing between them hadn’t changed. In terms of intimacy needing to mean something, she’d just made a huge mistake.

  Now what was she going to do?

  Austin saw the uncertainty creep into Rose’s eyes. As she caught her bottom lip between her
teeth and worried it, he felt her body go tight. He didn’t have to read her expression to know why. But he did anyway. With his back to the fire he could see concern highlighted in her eyes. This was a bad time to realize he much preferred to see passion there.

  God, they were good together and he craved more. It was entirely possible that he could never get enough of her.

  He knew when she’d said she wanted him that there would be no keeping what he felt strictly in the fun column. But he wasn’t prepared to quantify it any more than that. Still, what simmered between them could be better than good if she’d quit thinking it to death. He hadn’t been lying when he said he couldn’t walk away from her, that he wanted to make sure she was okay.

  The need to protect her was stronger every time he saw her, although he didn’t feel the need to define things, to put a finer point on it.

  But a defining moment was here and there was no win in putting off the conversation. “What’s wrong?”

  “We need to talk,” she answered.

  And there they were. Four words that struck fear into every man’s heart. Talk was the last thing on his mind with Rose in his arms. But talk is what they were going to do and he’d never before regretted so profoundly that he wasn’t getting his doctorate in something to do with words.

  “I was afraid of that,” he said.

  Rose reached for her sweatshirt, which was his cue that the conversation was going to happen with clothes on.

  “My stuff is probably dry now,” he said.

  He found the laundry room and took everything out of the dryer. It didn’t take him long in the bathroom, but he didn’t rush. She needed a couple minutes. But the longer he spent in this room surrounded by the scent of Rose, her soap, her creams, the more he realized the truth. He didn’t know what to say to her.

  Finally he couldn’t put it off and joined her in the living room. She was in front of the dying fire staring into the glowing embers. Her legs were pulled into her chest and she rested her chin on her knees.