Sugar, Spice, and Shifters: A Touch of Holiday Magic

by Élianne Adams

  He did, indeed. And as they walked the rest of the way back, pointing out Virgo and Sirius and the Big Dipper and other groupings of stars, Jade thought that if there was a flaw in Dawson, she didn’t need to know about it, not now. Right this moment she was content to be with him, to feel his hand in hers and look up at the night sky and ponder all its mysteries.

  “Here we are,” Dawson finally said, stopping in front of one of the cabins. From the size of things, it was a one-bedroom, and Jade knew it would be cozy but comfortable.

  The keys jangled, and then the lock turned and they went inside. Dawson flipped on a switch, and Jade stood near the front door as he crouched down in front of the fireplace to start a fire. The cabin was designed with an open floor plan with the right half of the square room taken up by the living room and the left half taken up by the dining table and chairs just passed the doorway. The little kitchen was tucked in to the back corner. There was a door beyond the wall that led into the bedroom suite. Its nearness sent nervous energy crackling through Jade, forcing her to look away.

  “I’ll go and get the hot chocolate started,” she called as Dawson futzed around with kindling. He’d reserved the cabin for a month, so she knew her grandparents would have ordered the staff to stock the kitchen. Sure enough, inside the cupboards she found marshmallows, cocoa powder and sugar. She put milk on the stove to heat, and then mixed the sugar and cocoa into the bottoms of two mugs and waited.

  “Hey there.” Strong arms banded around her waist, and heat snaked through her as Dawson pulled her back flush against his hard chest. “Didn’t realize you were making it from scratch. I've got instant packs around here somewhere.”

  Jade craned her neck to look up at him. “I always prefer homemade,” she said softly, bespelled by the liquid silver of his eyes. Their mouths were only a few inches apart, and she could feel his heart beating, strong and steady, against the base of her skull as she leaned against him.

  “Just like momma used to make,” he agreed, and then he dipped his head to kiss her.

  His lips were soft, but the kiss was hungry. Holding her face in his hands, he kissed, sucked and nibbled at her lips until she gave him entry, then plundered her mouth with masterful strokes of his tongue. She lifted her arms to slide her fingers into his thick, wavy hair, loving the feel of the silky tresses against her skin, and angled her head back further to give him access.

  The hiss of boiling milk reached her ears, and with a gasp, she jolted away, then removed the overflowing pot from the burner. “Crap, crap, crap,” she chanted, hunting up a paper towel.

  “It’s alright,” Dawson said, his deep voice tinged with humor and something darker that sounded a lot like sexual frustration. “I’ve got it.” He grabbed the sponge from behind the sink, wet it, and began mopping up the spill.

  “Thanks.” She sighed, then turned to pour the milk into the mugs. Man, but those kisses of his were a deadly distraction. If things had gone any further she probably would have been so lost she wouldn’t have noticed if the cabin caught fire. Dawson was all-consuming—everything about him called to her, lighting fires inside of her in places she hadn’t know existed and obliterating all other thoughts not directly related to shimmying him out of his pants.

  Now there’s a thought. A blush lit her cheeks as visions of Dawson lying naked teased her, quickening her pulse. She wondered if his unveiled body would even come close to the fantasies she was conjuring.

  “Do you want your hot chocolate grown-up style?”

  Dawson arched a brow at her as he squeezed out the sponge, finished mopping up the milk. “Grown-up style? Does that mean with alcohol?”

  “Whiskey, specifically.” She grinned. “I assume you have some around here?”

  “Hell, yeah.” He went to the bedroom and came back with a bottle of the amber liquid. “Hadn’t had a chance to unpack it yet, but what’s a vacation without a little booze?” he asked as she poured a generous amount into their hot chocolate.

  “Amen.” They clinked their glasses together, and then drank—or rather sipped because it was still piping hot. Jade wished she’d had some whipped cream to put on top, but, honestly, it was still very good—the whiskey warmed her even faster than normal hot chocolate would, blazing a fiery path down her throat and sending tingles through her extremities.

  “Let’s sit by the fire,” Dawson suggested.

  She let him draw her over to the living room area and down on the couch that sat across from the fireplace, separated only by a wooden coffee table. Even from this distance she could feel the heat of the flames, and she watched the way the firelight illuminated portions of his face—the tops of his cheekbones—while casting others in shadow—the bow of his mouth.

  His eyes gleamed as he faced her, and he set his half-empty mug aside. “Come here.”

  She shivered at the command in his voice and drew closer to him almost involuntarily. He took her mug of chocolate from her, then cradled her face in his hands and kissed her softly. Heat simmered low in her belly as he slid his tongue inside her mouth again, and she moaned at the taste of him, mixed with the chocolate and sugar and whiskey.

  “I love the way you taste,” he growled, and then kissed her again. She clung to him as he devoured her, overwhelmed by a reckless need to let him consume her. A bead of sweat trickled down between her breasts, and she realized she was hot. Whether or not it was from the fire, the heat rolling off of Dawson’s body, or the desire burning inside her, she wasn’t sure—but she wanted her sweater off, and she wanted it now.

  “Oh yeah, baby.” Dawson made a low sound of approval in his throat as she began pulling off her sweater dress, and she froze with the garment halfway up her belly, suddenly aware of his burning silver eyes on her. She knew she was beautiful, but Dawson was built like a god, and she was struck with a wave of self-consciousness.

  “Come on, sweetheart,” he coaxed, sensing her reluctance. “I want to see you.” His molten eyes gentled a little, and she exhaled, then pulled the sweater off the rest of the way, revealing the lacy black bra she wore beneath.

  She held her breath as he stared at her, his hot eyes roaming every inch of her exposed flesh. “Exquisite,” he murmured, sliding his big hands up and down her sides. They were firm and hot and sent shivers of need through her. “You're a Goddess.”

  She laughed a little at the way he’d mirrored her thoughts about him. “I don’t know about that,” she told him.

  “Oh, I do,” he assured her, popping the clasp on her bra. It slid down her shoulders, and he tugged it free, then took her breasts in hand, flexing gently. “You have no idea how disappointing it is to squeeze fake breasts. The fact that yours are big and round and real... it’s like a miracle.”

  Her giggle turned into a sharp breath when he slid his thumbs across her nipples. Back and forth, back and forth he went until they grew tight with need.

  “Arch your back,” he ordered, splaying one big hand against her lower back. She did as he said, and he bent his head to take a nipple in his mouth. A moan echoed from her lips as he bit down gently with his teeth, sending a spark of pleasure-pain through her, and she clutched his head as he began to suck.

  He worked one nipple and then the other, going back and forth until she was in a frenzy. Who knew nipple play could be so hot? He hadn’t even touched her between her legs and already her pussy was aching, a throbbing knot of need just waiting to be filled. Needing release, she climbed onto his lap and straddled him, wanting to feel him against her even if it was just his clothes.

  “Take this off,” she panted, tugging at his sweater.

  His eyes gleamed with lust and humor. “Yes, ma'am.” He lifted his arms and allowed her to help him get the sweater off.

  She growled when she saw the linen button up beneath it. “You have too many clothes,” she informed him, getting to work on his buttons.

  He arched a black brow. “Usually that’s my line.” Lips curved in a wicked smile, he leaned back and watched
as she undid the buttons, revealing an expanse of tawny chest lightly dusted with hair. One by one, she counted each of his abs as she uncovered them... one, two, three, four, five, six….

  The shirt fell away, exposing the waistband of the corduroys riding on his hips, and she gasped. “You have eight?”

  Dawson chuckled. “You seem surprised.”

  She shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed. “I've never been with a man who’s had an eight-pack. She thought they only existed on body builders and fitness buffs, and her eyes narrowed. “You're not one of those guys who spends all his time in the gym, are you?”

  “No.” His grin widened. “I’m just blessed with good genes.”

  “No kidding,” she murmured. Gently, she splayed her palms against his lower abs, right where his torso met his hips, and glided them upward. Ridges and curves of muscle rippled beneath her palms as she went, up, up, up, and his eyes darkened when she scraped against his nipples. His hips shifted beneath her, pressing his arousal more firmly between her legs, and she sucked in another sharp breath.

  “Grind.” He slid his hands beneath her leggings and the waistband of her underwear to cup her cheeks. “I want to feel your ass moving against my hands.”

  Those erotically charged words sent a bolt of need through her. Bracing her hands against the back of the couch, she began to slowly rock her hips, back and forth, back and forth, rubbing herself against the bulge straining against his zipper. His eyes grew darker, and his hands tightened on her ass, urging her faster.

  “God yes,” he growled as her breasts brushed against his face. He took her right nipple into his mouth, and she whimpered, the need between her legs building sharply. He was consuming her already, branding her with his mouth on her breast and his hands on her ass, and he wasn’t even inside her yet.

  “Faster,” he urged, rocking his hips beneath her. “I want to watch you come.”

  The dam broke, and she cried out as pleasure rushed through her, leaving her breathless. His eyes flashed, his lips curving in a fierce grin of satisfaction, and his fingers dug into her ass so hard she knew it would leave marks. But she didn’t care—she was still stunned by the fact that she’d come as well as she had even though he hadn’t even touched her pussy yet.

  Her muscles relaxed, she laid her head against his chest, but he didn’t give her a reprieve. Instead, he tucked her legs more firmly around his hips and then lifted her to walk across the living room. He opened the bedroom door and flipped the light switch on, and then he laid her out atop the comforter of the queen-sized mattress.

  “You're so wet already,” he growled, rubbing his hand between her legs. She whimpered each time his fingers brushed against her sweet spot. “But not wet enough.”

  Her eyes flew open. “Feels pretty wet to me down there,” she said as he began tugging off her panties. Wet and throbbing, the fact of the matter was that she’d never been more aroused in her life.

  He chuckled. “Yes, but you need to be ready for me.”

  She opened her mouth to ask what he meant by that, and then all the air left her lungs as he slid his pants and boxers down, revealing the biggest cock she’d ever seen in her life. “Holy shit,” she whispered, reaching for him. As her fingers wrapped around his velvet-steel length, she swallowed hard—it had to be eight inches long, at least.

  Her fingers tightened instinctively around his him, drawing a groan from him. Startled, she flicked her eyes up to see his face tighten and his silver eyes flare bright with desire. Her lips curved, some of the awe and nerves from her initial shock fading away at his reaction. Sure, maybe he was big, but he was still as human as she, as evidenced by his response.

  Slowly, she began massaging his cock, sliding her fist up and down his silky length. His eyes gleamed hot from above, and the sight of him looming over her, standing at the edge of the bed in all his naked glory, stole her breath. He was truly, truly magnificent.

  Wanting to feel him, she sat up straight and scooted to the edge of the bed until the insides of her thighs brushed against his muscular legs. Leaning in, she dragged her tongue from below his navel up to the top of his abs, tasting sweat and musk. His taut muscles jumped beneath her tongue, and his cock flexed in her hand.

  “Woman,” he growled, his voice darker than she’d ever heard it. “You're killing me.”

  She looked up at him, eyes sparkling with laughter. “Yeah, well I have to make sure you're ready for me, too.”

  He chuckled then gently pushed her back down onto the bed and crawled on top of her. “You're so bad,” he murmured against her lips before kissing her again. As his tongue slid inside her mouth, he nudged her panties to the side and slipped two fingers inside of her.

  “Oooh,” she moaned, the sound muffled by his tongue. He broke the kiss, and her next cry split the air as he pressed his fingers against her g-spot, sending ripples of sensation through her. “God, yes,” she groaned, lifting her hips so that his fingers slid against that spot again.

  “You like that?” He pulled his fingers back until only the tips were inside her.

  “Yes.” She reached for his hand so she could push him back into her again, but he took it and pinned it high above her head. “Please,” she begged, squirming beneath him.

  “Please, what?” His lips hovered above her, his warm breath tickling her cheek. “I want to hear you say it.”

  A hot blush scalded her cheeks. “Please...” she gasped as his fingers slipped through her folds, coating her with her own wetness. “Please, I want you to fuck me.”

  “Yes,” he growled in agreement, tugging her panties off. Anticipation rushed through her as he lifted her legs, hooking her ankles over his shoulders, but he didn’t enter her right away. Instead, he slid his cock over her folds, pressing its pink head against her clit as he coated himself with her wetness. She whimpered, wanting to reach for his cock, but the angle of her legs made it hard to do more than brush her fingers against the tip.

  “Yeah,” he breathed, his eyelids sliding to half-mast. “Do that again.”

  And so she did, brushing her fingers along the base of his shaft and over its pink mushroom tip. His cock twitched beneath her fingers, and he slid himself against her, once, twice, three times, and then finally, finally, slid himself inside.

  They both groaned at the same time, sheer relief mingled with pleasure. Dawson moved deeper, taking Jade’s breath away momentarily as he stretched her inner walls. She was so full, his cock molded tight against her as if he’d been made for her.

  “Damn,” he groaned, his entire body going still. “You feel amazing.”

  He began moving inside of her then, pulling out slowly and then ramming back in hard, over and over again. The shock of pleasure, followed by the slow, burning pull, drove her wild, and she tossed her head and cried out, tightening the grip of her legs on his shoulders.

  “Faster,” she begged. “Please!”

  He held out a little bit longer, but eventually momentum caught up with them both. Soon he was slamming into her, his strokes quickening until they were bare seconds apart. His hips slapped against the undersides of her legs, loud cracks of flesh against flesh that punctuated each thrust. Sweat gleamed on his forehead and his chest, drawing down into a tiny river that slid down between the rows of his abdominal muscles. The heat from their bodies and the lovemaking scalded her as well, and she had no doubt her own skin gleamed with a sheen of sweat.

  He leaned forward then, pressing her knees up against her chest, and the sudden pressure against her clit was too much. She came apart, pleas

  He leaned forward then, pressing her knees up against her chest, and the sudden pressure against her clit was too much. She came apart, pleasure racing through her veins, the sound of her cries echoing dimly in the air. And just at the tail end of her orgasm, she heard him groan and felt a hot rush of warmth inside her as he came.

  SIX

  The next morning, Jade shuffled out of her bedroom and into her grandparents' living ro
om, roused by the scent of coffee. Her grandmother was in the kitchen, fixing breakfast, and her grandfather was on the couch, reading the morning paper, not quite fully dressed yet. The barest hint of dawn touched the sky outside the window above the kitchen sink, telling her that it was still fairly early in the morning.

  “Good morning.” Abuelito lowered his paper and looked at her over the rims of his glasses. “I was worried that I wouldn’t see you this morning.”

  A blush crept over Jade’s cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she said, fighting the urge to squirm beneath her grandfather’s dark gaze. She’d come in at four in the morning last night, after Dawson had woken her up for another round of sex and she’d realized that her grandparents were going to ask questions if she wasn’t there for breakfast. “I was enjoying myself with a few travelers I’d met and lost track of time.”

  “Hmm.” Her grandfather returned his gaze to the paper. She wasn’t entirely sure whether he believed her, but she knew an out when she saw one, and made a beeline for the coffee pot sitting on the counter.

  “There’s cream in the fridge,” her Abuelita said, not looking up from the griddle on the stove—she was frying pancakes. Clearly she didn’t want to get involved with the discussion. “Do you want eggs?”

  “No, thank you.” Smiling, Jade squeezed her grandmother’s shoulder, then fixed her cup of coffee and went to join her grandfather on the couch.

  She spent the rest of the day with her grandparents, alternating between hanging out in the living room with her grandmother, hand-making Christmas presents for the staff in order to save money, and walking around the grounds and lodge with her grandfather, listening to him tell stories while MacGuyver-ing various things around the cabins and the lodge that he ordinarily would have paid someone to fix. Despite her worry about the finances, Jade enjoyed the time, with her grandfather especially since she was able to catch up with the friends and family who worked around the resort. But, she couldn’t stop thinking about Dawson. She’d agreed to meet him at the restaurant at eight o'clock when the festivities were scheduled to turn to karaoke and dancing, and she couldn’t wait to see him again.