A Dash of Spice (Snowed In & Snuggled Up #2)

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A Dash of Spice (Snowed In & Snuggled Up #2) Page 7

by Calista Fox


  His gaze held hers. She could see the turmoil in his deep brown eyes. See the torment. There was more that he wasn’t telling her. More going on than just the potential sale of the beloved Win Creek Cabin.

  Was it his career? Something else? Another woman he was reluctant to mention to her, because it’d pretty much devastate her? What?

  “Scout—”

  His head lowered and his mouth crashed over hers. He didn’t want to talk anymore. Ciara thought they should definitely continue the conversation. But then his tongue swept over hers and his arms wrapped around her and Ciara lost all touch with sensibility.

  Her arms circled his neck and she held on for dear life as he crushed her against his hunky body and delivered one of his best, scorching-hot kisses. Meant to make her forget everything else but him. It worked. In a heartbeat.

  Their lips and tongues tangled. Her breathing escalated. His hand skimmed down to her ass and he palmed a cheek. Squeezed firmly. She felt his erection against her hip and it did wicked things to her mind and her senses. Her body. Her nipples tightened behind the lacy cups of her bra. Her clit tingled. Little shivers of delight raced down her spine.

  That stellar orgasm he’d given her the night before was not nearly enough to take the edge off. She missed being in his strong embrace. Missed feeling his heat and muscles. Missed smelling his earthy, rugged scent. Missed his searing kisses.

  Lord, the man knew how to kiss like there was no tomorrow!

  When they eventually came up for air, she was breathless. But somehow managed to say, “I thought you were here for football.”

  “I don’t give a damn about football.”

  He backed her up until her calves brushed the edge of the sofa. Then he eased her down into a corner piled high with pillows. He unzipped the jacket on her tan-colored yoga suit and slipped his hand under the tight white tank top she wore. His hot skin on hers was electrifying, his touch confident. He cupped her breast and massaged assertively. A little rough. Precisely how she liked it.

  His mouth covered hers again and he kissed her hungrily as his thumb whisked over her pebbled nipple, the lace adding a hint of friction that was sinfully delicious.

  Ciara’s legs twined with his and she writhed against him, loving the feel of his body partially covering hers. Though, really, she wanted all of him. Grew more restless and in need of him with every passing moment.

  Scout’s hand left her breast and traveled down her stomach, then behind the band of her yoga pants and thong. His fingers grazed her slick folds and she tore her mouth from his. Let out a small cry.

  “Ciara,” he whispered as his mouth blazed a trail down her throat. “Fuck. I want you. So damn much.”

  Two fingers eased inside her and plunged deep, pumped aggressively.

  She clasped his shoulder with her hand. Arched her spine just as his mouth reached her breast and his tongue glided over her nipple, teasing the bud tauter through the lightweight material. Then he drew it into his mouth and sucked.

  “Scout!” Her insides ignited. “Jesus!”

  He stroked her quickly with his fingers, with his tongue. With sheer determination to set her off. Now.

  The sensations swelled in her core, taunting and tugging at her, until they collided and erupted.

  “Oh, God!” The climax flared vibrantly between her legs. Liquid fire rushed through her veins. “Yes!”

  She rode out the orgasm, but her body still craved his. Her eyelids fluttered open and she found Scout gazing intently at her, watching her as she’d given into all the feelings he evoked, all the feelings still running rampant from head to toe, sparking every erogenous zone along the way.

  “That was good,” she told him in a breathless voice. “But you know I want more. So much more…”

  He withdrew his fingers from her and reached for the material of his sweater at the nape of his neck. He hauled the garment over his head and tossed it aside. His gaze was on her the whole time.

  Ciara’s nails scraped lightly over his hard pecs and his small, beaded nipples. Causing him to groan. They brushed lower to his cut abs and she admired all the defined ridges and grooves. His muscles bunched beneath her touch, bringing a smile to her face.

  “Yeah, you make me crazy for you,” he said.

  “How crazy?” she whispered against his lips.

  His hand covered hers and dragged it down to his cock, thick and full against the button fly of his jeans.

  “This crazy.”

  “Hmm. Impressive.” She was sure her eyes sparkled with lust and appreciation.

  Scout’s hand shifted and he ripped apart the fly. Ciara palmed his erection and caressed him through his boxer-briefs.

  His chocolatey irises melted, glowing seductively. “You know you’re making me hotter.”

  “That’s sort of the point.” She kissed him.

  But Scout didn’t allow her to toy with him in this manner. Likely because he was already close to the edge. He eased her hand away and then helped her out of her jacket. Whisked the tank top over her head. Unclasped her bra with one hand and then slowly slid the straps down her shoulders. His heated gaze feasted on her bare breasts. His jaw worked rigorously, as though he were contemplating where to start with her.

  The mesmeric look on his devastatingly handsome face warmed her heart. He was spellbound.

  “Damn,” he muttered. “You really do get more beautiful by the day.”

  Her fingertips swept over his cheek. “Sweet as you are to say so, at the moment, I’d prefer you enjoyed me, not admired me.” She kissed him softly. “Because I really need to feel you inside me, Scout. Now.”

  “Definitely a request I’m more than happy to fulfill.” He dragged her pants and panties down her legs and the clothing dropped to the floor. Glancing up at her, he asked, “Socks on or off?”

  “They can go. You make me plenty hot.”

  “Mm.” His gaze slid over her. He shook his head. His jaw clenched again. “You beat the hell out of any turkey day feast.”

  “You’re just saying that because I fed you already.”

  “No, I seriously just want to devour you.” His expression was intense, full of desire.

  He stood and divested himself of his boots and clothes. Ciara leaned in close and slid her hand over his thick shaft. Pumped slowly.

  Scout pulled in a sharp breath. She felt his body jerk at her wicked touch.

  She bent her head to him and ran her tongue along his length before teasing his tip. Finally, she took him deep in her mouth. Sucked hard.

  “Shit,” he ground out. “Not such a good idea, babe.” He gently pushed her away with his hands on her shoulders. “You are way too amazing at that. And I don’t want to lose it before we even get started. I’ve waited so long to be with you again. So damn long.”

  Emotion swelled in her throat. “I know.”

  He joined her on the sofa again. Settled between her parted legs, exactly where she wanted him. Where she needed him. He yanked the silver-and-black fox fur blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over his hips. Another one was sprawled across the cushions beneath Ciara.

  Her fingers ran over his shoulders, down his arms. Back up. While he stared into her eyes.

  Anticipation built. Exhilaration trilled down her spine.

  “I love feeling you against me,” she told him.

  “We always were a good fit.”

  She wiggled slightly beneath him, her hips rocking so that his cock slid along her moist folds. One of her hands glided down his back to his ass. She gripped the cheek and pressed him more firmly against her as his erection stroked her.

  “I’m always on the verge of losing it with you,” he murmured. “I really should be embarrassed or ashamed of my lack of control when it comes to you.”

  “It’s actually very sexy. And flattering. And you never, ever leave me wanting…”

  Scout snickered. “You’re good for my ego.”

  “You don’t need me for your ego.”<
br />
  “Yeah,” he said, still gazing into her eyes. “I do. I need you for…everything.”

  Ciara’s heart soared. Her lips brushed over his and she said, “Make love to me.”

  Scout reached for the wallet he’d tossed onto the tall, narrow table behind the sofa, decorated with all manner of autumn foliage and plenty of framed photos of Tilda and Ciara. And Ciara and Scout. He snagged a condom and rolled it on. Ciara’s heartbeats just kept thumping harder. Scout kissed her in his sizzling way. Eased slowly into her. Made her body and soul burn for him.

  His erection filled her and they moved together.

  She lifted her thigh, and he said, “You know that’s what I want. Those gorgeous legs wrapped around me.”

  She locked her ankles, squeezed him tight.

  “Fuck,” he said on a harsh breath. “You feel so damn incredible.” His lips tangled with hers as he picked up the pace, pushed deeper into her.

  Ciara’s palms flattened along his back. Her hips moved with his. He was wide and he stretched her. Made her feel completely consumed by his body, his very essence.

  They fell into an exciting rhythm that stole her breath and had her pulse echoing in her ears. Turned her blood molten. She was hot and bothered…and desperate for more.

  Scout innately knew it. Because he knew her so damn well.

  He drove into her and she responded fervently. Her legs and pussy held him in a vise grip. Their skin slickened and they slid smoothly against each other.

  “Scout,” she said as the tension within her pulled taut. “I need to come.” It was a fiery, overwhelming sensation.

  “Yeah,” he whispered. “Come for me.”

  His cock pistoned into her and she met every powerful thrust. Soft whimpers fell from her lips. Her heart hammered in staccato beats. He pushed her higher and higher.

  “You’re so huge inside me,” she said as her eyes closed and the climax beckoned. “So perfect.”

  “We’re perfect together,” he insisted. “Just us. When we’re alone like this. Lost in each other.”

  “Oh, God…” His words, his intensity, his shaft stroking her inner walls and his head rubbing against that ultra-sensitive spot… It was a flawless, unadulterated recipe for an earth-shattering orgasm. And Ciara was seconds away from it. She said, “I love how you feel. I love how you just know what I need…”

  At the moment, that was a kiss. And he delivered a searing one!

  Her hips bucked beneath him, Scout increased the fervent tempo and suddenly everything within Ciara ignited, then exploded.

  She called out Scout’s name. Clutched him tightly, milking his cock.

  “Like that,” he said between kisses. “Just like that.”

  She felt his body tense. His erection throbbed deep inside her. Then his body convulsed.

  “Ah, fuck,” he growled as he let go. “Oh, God, Ciara. Babe.” The shudders ran through him. She continued to hold him firmly, drawing out her orgasm and his. “Yes, sweetheart. You’re so amazing. So fucking amazing.”

  Her lips curled against his temple. “We’re so fucking amazing.”

  “That, too.” His forehead pressed to her shoulder. He breathed heavily. Still shuddered.

  Ciara didn’t move. Didn’t want him to move. She just wanted another precious memory for her mental scrapbook. There was no telling what would happen in the morning; what would happen a year from now; what would happen ten years from now. So she clung to the moment in which they lived… Hopeful for many more that were this incredible.

  She had no idea how long they stayed glued together. Until Scout finally lifted his head and said, “Jesus, I’m crushing you.”

  “No, no!” she was quick to say. “Not at all.” His weight on her was heavenly.

  Regardless, he pushed himself up, withdrew from her and hopped to his feet. “I’ll be right back. Don’t you dare go anywhere.”

  She snuggled deeper into the fur blankets. “Where on earth would I go when you’re here?”

  He grinned. All satisfied and sexy and just plain hot.

  Then he sauntered off toward a bathroom. Ciara’s teeth bit into her lower lip to keep the ridiculously sappy grin from her own face.

  Euphoria seeped through her veins, burning even brighter when Scout strutted back into the living room. He was a work of art. And his gaze was locked with hers. He slipped between the furs, lying on his side as she did, and pulled her to him. They were huddled under the warm blankets and she breathed him in. Didn’t even care that they’d left remnants of their dinner on the coffee table.

  The TV was still on, but the sound had been turned off for the halftime show while they’d talked. The flickering lights didn’t really register, because Ciara was tucked close to Scout, her head at his chest, the covers pulled up high.

  His arms were around her and she was surrounded by heat and sinew and all things fantastic about this man.

  It was everything she’d ever wanted. Everything she always prayed for. The two of them in their private, intimate cocoon. Where no one could distract them or invade their little world.

  Emotion flowed through her. Getting the best of her, truth be told.

  Her fingernails lightly swept over Scout’s pecs as she listened to his steady breathing. She had no idea if he’d already drifted off.

  Yet she couldn’t stop herself from whispering, “I love you.”

  For better or for worse.

  Chapter Seven

  Scout’s eyes snapped open.

  He had no idea how long he’d been out. Had no idea what time it was—late at night or the wee hours of the morning.

  The fire still snapped and crackled in the hearth at his back. Ciara was still snuggled against his front, one of her arms wrapped around him, her fingers curling into his back. Her breathing was calm, measured. She was asleep.

  Unfortunately for Scout, there was a rapping at the base of his skull that was all too familiar. The start of a cervicogenic headache—a little misleading because it wasn’t actually a “head” pain, but in this case, a neck one. It just triggered in the brain. Many TBI patients suffered more than one type of headache. Scout also incurred the migraines and the tension headaches. His own morbid little hat trick.

  He felt it coming on. The roiling of his stomach, which was his first sign of nausea cresting. The lightheadedness. And the pounding.

  Alarm shot threw him. He stealthily slipped from between the blankets so as to not disturb Ciara. He scooped up his clothes and boots and rushed to the bathroom. Dressed quickly. Searched his wallet and his pockets for the pain meds. Nada.

  Where the hell were his pills? At least one!

  He left the room and crept into the hallway. The cyclone built in his gut and in his brain. The hammering in his head intensified. The excruciating agony whirled violently so that Scout knew two things were about to happen.

  First, he was going to scream.

  Second, he was going to heave.

  He had to get out there. Now!

  As quickly and as quietly as he could, Scout made his way to the foyer. He passed through the doors and climbed into his rented Lincoln Navigator. As soon as he pulled the driver’s door shut, he let out an enraged wail. Then he left the entire contents of his stomach on the passenger’s seat.

  He slammed the heel of his hand against the dash.

  God. Fucking. Damn. It.

  ***

  Scout woke hours later. Many hours later.

  He was in the roadkill daisy room at the B&B. Thank God for the private entrance. He’d barely made it through the door and had launched himself onto the soft bed.

  Ah…the soft bed.

  A saving grace.

  The radiance of the triple-attack didn’t necessarily dim. It was the fact that Scout could bury his face in a mound of pillows and muffle the shit, fuck, damn, hell! flying from his mouth that was so helpful.

  He knew to get up and take his meds. At the moment, however, no movement was a good thing. So he remained v
ertical with his eyes closed and tried to will himself into some sort of comfortable, non-head-splitting space. For minutes…for hours…for as long as it took the pain to ebb. Who the fuck knew?

  ***

  Ciara was warm and toasty when she woke in the morning. Could hear the crackle of the fire. Could feel the fur blankets enveloping her. Knew there was no greater bliss then being snuggled up and completely ensconced in warm fuzziness and one seriously hunky man—

  Wait.

  She tossed back the top fur.

  With wide eyes, she searched the immediate vicinity—that being the sofa she’d slept on.

  There was no seriously hunky man here.

  “Scout?”

  Her gaze swept the vast room.

  Thinking that perhaps he was in the kitchen, she sniffed the chilly air for the faintest hint of coffee. Not a Columbian bean to be had.

  “Scout?” she called out again.

  No answer.

  Ciara sat up. She took in the living room with a more critical eye. Her heart sank.

  No clothes.

  No hiking boots.

  No leather jacket.

  No remnants of Scout.

  Her gaze fell on the mess the two of them had left on the coffee table. Pizza and beer. She homed in on one misfit item. Scout’s iPhone.

  Ciara frowned. Disconcertion gripped her. Her eyes squeezed shut for a moment, but then popped open again.

  Scout had left her.

  After he’d made love to her. After she’d said—

  Oh, fuck!

  She’d said it!

  I love you.

  Panic instantly seized her soul. Ciara was on her feet in a heartbeat. Pacing. Agonizing. Wondering what the hell had gotten into her to make her say those words!

  Okay, that would be Scout… But, seriously.

  She drew up short.

  Son. Of. A. Bitch.

  She eyed his cell again.

  Scout had been in such a mad-rush to leave her following her seriously horrific confession that he’d actually left his phone behind?

 

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