She went full hands-on with Lander, too. Clothes were good, but naked was better. Much better. Her fingers had never moved as fast as they did now when she unbuttoned his white shirt, the wrinkled fabric cool to her touch. He helped her roll it off his shoulders, then drew her pullover over her head. The thin straps on her bra slid down her arms. Her breasts spilled from the lacy cups. She tossed her bra aside.
Returning to Lander, she rested unsteady hands over his well-toned chest. He was pure, potent masculinity. She smiled to herself when his pulse jumped a few beats against her palms. He was as turned on as she was.
She placed a kiss to his jaw.
He brushed her soft earlobe with his lips.
She bit his shoulder.
He flicked his tongue over the pale skin at her throat.
She nipped his shoulder. Then his left pec.
He licked between her breasts.
She laved his nipples.
Sensations fluttered her belly. Rocking her hips.
He shifted on the couch cushion, and she noticed his black slacks had tightened over his groin. His zipper now tented to accommodate his erection. That he was hard for her only heightened her pleasure. Dampening her panties.
A slight twist to the side, and he turned fully toward her. His dick pushed against her hip. She sensed his impatience, his eyes glazed with desire. She arched toward him, wanting to align herself with him.
Dipping his left shoulder, he lowered her to the sofa, only to pull back unexpectedly. He grimaced, grabbed his side, startling her. His breathing came hard and ragged, but no longer from arousal. That worried her. Sweat broke on his forehead and all color drained from his face. His expression was pained.
Abby crossed her arms over her bare breasts and blushed. “What’s wrong?” she asked, concerned.
“My ribs,” he murmured, his tone apologetic. “Bad positioning.”
She felt awful. First, her G-men had sent him over a cliff, now their lovemaking had caused him pain. “We can stop—”
He shook his head, forced a grin. “Not on your life. I wanted you beneath me, Abby, but that’s not going to work. There will be less stress on my ribs if you straddle me.”
Straddle him. Her eyes widened. She rather liked the idea.
Lowering her arms, she boldly undid the button on his slacks and unzipped him, freeing his penis. She was awed by his size. The man was substantial. He lifted his hips off the cushion, and she slid down his pants before he could lend a hand.
Now sitting up straight, Lander had his own moves. He had her out of her black jeans in a heartbeat. Her cotton bikini panties were gone with a flick of his wrist.
She stared at him; he stared at her.
She swore the temperature in the room just got hotter.
They were both naked and breathing heavily once again.
“There are condoms in my wallet on the coffee table,” he was quick to say before they went any further.
She nodded. The table was at arm’s length. She passed his wallet to him.
He unfolded the leather, cracked and water-stained from the accident. He located six foiled packets. He quickly stripped the seal on one and rolled on his protection.
He locked gazes with her. Lifted one brow. “Are you ready for us?” he asked.
“Very ready.” All her life ready. She’d wanted him from the moment he’d walked into the community center, seeking directions. He was the handsomest man she’d ever laid eyes on. Knowing him as she did now, she also knew he was a person of compassion. They had many of the same values. Traditions. She more than liked him. Given time, she could fall in love with him.
Just looking at him naked turned her on. Every atom in her body sparked and responded to his nearness. Her hands shook when she slid her fingers through his hair, so crisp, thick, and dark. She traced his brow with her thumbs, then took a long moment to stare into his blue eyes, dilated from wanting her. That pleased her greatly.
She loved the arc of his cheekbones, the blade of his nose, and the strong line of his jaw. She admired his broad shoulders, the width of his bruised chest, and the symmetrical line of his ribs. He had a flat abdomen. And jutting cock. She circled him with her hand. The heated look in his eyes told her that her loving gesture pleased him. A lot.
Deliberately slow, she teased him with squeezing, releasing, strokes. His gaze narrowed, and he breathed in sharply. The tangible tightening of his entire body left her liquid.
Rising on her knees, she settled on his groin. The warm flesh of his thighs grazed her bottom. Tickling her. Her legs parted, and he ran his hands along the smooth inner skin. Back and forth, coming dangerously close to her most sensitive spot. Making her squirm.
“You have an amazing body,” he said, appreciating her full breasts and rounded hips. He didn’t seem to mind the slight softness of her stomach, which never seemed to flatten despite her fifty sit-ups each day.
Palming her bottom, he grazed the crease of her ass with his fingers. His grasp tightened, urging her on.
Anticipation touched them both.
Desire pooled in all the right places.
Their scents came together, a mating of his musk and pine and her cinnamon and vanilla.
Sex thickened the air.
She couldn’t wait any longer. She splayed her hands on his shoulders, leaned forward, and took him inside her. Their contact drew a warm sexual heat from her. She grew restless.
Lander was restive, too. His mouth was hot and demanding when he again claimed her lips. She welcomed the intensity of his kiss, needing more of his mouth. More of his hands. More of him.
He gave her everything she wanted, and then some.
She became supersensitive. Her entire body sparked.
They went at it, hot and greedy. Desperate. Drawing breath from each other. Hers broke raspy and fast against his lips. His came hard and sharp.
She rolled her hips, and he slid his fingers between their bodies and rubbed her sex. He thrust more deeply, pulsing inside her like a heartbeat.
He drove her outside herself and into him.
The rhythm of their bodies in sexual sync.
Tension spiraled and they strained to reach completion.
Her release came on a soul-shattering sigh.
His followed with a deep, guttural groan of satisfaction.
Timeless moments surrounded them. She kissed his chest right over his heart and felt it pound beneath her lips, steady and strong. He touched his lips to each of her cheeks and to the tip of her nose.
“That’s a memory I’ll never forget,” he said, catching his breath.
“Me, neither,” she sighed. Never, ever.
They remained together until their heartbeats slowed. Abby reveled in the afterglow, warm and protected in his arms. Her heart was happy; her body and soul content. In those moments the living room wrapped them in tradition and sentiment. Lander draped a quilt over her shoulders. The warmth of the fireplace kept them snug.
Forever crossed Abby’s mind.
She wished with all her heart that time would stop and that Lander would linger long after the sun melted the snow on the mountain. But that was one Christmas wish no one could grant her.
She sighed shortly thereafter when Lander shifted beneath her. She slid off his lap and gave him some space so he could clean up and rid himself of his condom. Clutching the quilt to her breast, covering herself modestly, she said, “No running water, but you can grab a gallon of water and take a sponge bath.”
“Bathe with me?” he asked casually, but there was an undertone in his voice that said his invitation promised more than just getting clean.
“I need to catch my breath,” she said honestly. “But I will next time.” The man had five condoms. She imagined what he could do with them.
“I’ll hold you to that, Abby.” He pushed off the couch and walked naked from the living room, a man who looked remarkably good in his skin. Wide shoulders. Tight ass. Muscular legs. Easy stride. If her lips weren
’t numb from kissing him, she would have whistled. Low and sexy. She heard him climb the stairs to the loft, and her heart warmed. She liked having a second person around the cabin. Lander filled it with his hearty laughter and eagerness to help her. Made her want to cook for him, watch sunsets from the top of the mountain, even pick up his dirty socks. It felt like a home again.
She glanced at the old Swiss clock on a side table near the hearth. It was ten after twelve now. Over an hour had passed since they’d taken to the couch. She wished they could do it all over again. Every kiss, every pleasurable contraction, everything. It was the best seventy minutes of her life.
Lander had kissed, touched, and made love to her like no man before him. She hadn’t had that many lovers, but those she’d had always raced to climax. She’d never felt a long-lasting emotional bond. Lander had seduced her with foreplay and feeling. As if he never wanted to let her go. He’d made her want him as much as he wanted her.
They’d both need stamina to make love a second time, she thought. Lunch would be nice, but she needed to wash up and change her clothes first. She rose, too, only to glance down on their discarded garments. What she saw tugged at her heartstrings. The arms of his white shirt were wrapped around her pullover, as if in a hug. Her jeans lay across the stretched out legs of his slacks. She smiled at how closely their clothes imitated their lovemaking.
She folded his clothes and placed them on the arm of the overstuffed chair. Collecting her bra, panties, and remaining items, she retreated to her bedroom. She set the clothes on her white hobnail bedspread, then turned and faced her closet. This called for something at-home casual, but sexy. But not too sexy. Foreplay with Lander was half the fun. She didn’t want him so turned on that he went right to the main act. They’d be down to no condoms with snow still on the ground. Then what would they do?
Flipping through the hangers, she selected a pale-blue long-sleeved T-shirt with a Three Wise Women design on the front and a pair of navy leggings. She snagged a pair of socks from her dresser drawer, then wiggled her toe. Sex had taken her mind off its soreness, but it remained swollen.
After freshening up in the bathroom, she returned to the kitchen a moment before Lander. Her smile broke when she set eyes on him in her old, faded plaid robe which she’d left hanging on a hook on the back of the bathroom door. The blue-and-white flannel strained across his shoulders, and the hem hit him at mid-thigh. Loosely tied at his waist, her housecoat gapped over his chest and at his groin. He revealed more than he covered. A shadow of his sex flashed with each footstep. Still, he looked amazing.
“I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed your robe,” he said, coming toward her. His hair was damp, yet he hadn’t shaved. He smelled of almond soap and man. He pressed a light kiss to her lips; the scent of mint toothpaste was on his breath.
“I like you in plaid,” she said. “The blue matches your eyes.”
He grinned. “That’s what I was going for.”
“How about a light lunch?” she suggested.
“Don’t go to a lot of trouble, Abs.”
“Cooking from scratch isn’t an option without electricity,” she stated, “but the pantry is stocked with canned goods. I’ll heat up some soup. Your choice: chicken noodle, tomato basil, minestrone, or black bean. I have a month’s worth of oyster crackers.”
“Chicken noodle works for me,” he said.
It worked for her, too. “My grandmother made the best homemade soups,” she reminisced, poking through her kitchen drawer, looking for an old-fashioned can opener. “Chicken noodle was a winter staple. Fat noodles and chunks of chicken in a tasty broth. I could eat it three times a day.”
Lander looked toward the fireplace, then said, “The fire is low. Do you want me to add more wood?”
“Low flames are best when I’m cooking,” she told him, grabbing the opener from the back of the drawer. It hadn’t been used in years. “Just place another log in the hearth once the soup is ready.”
She went to the pantry, collected three cans of soup and a dozen packets of oyster crackers. Lander was a big man; she figured he’d enjoy two servings. Their meal came together quickly. Within a short time they again sat side by side on the couch, spooning chicken noodle soup piled high with round crackers from large ceramic bowls.
“I’ll make s’mores for dessert,” she offered.
His smile came slowly. “I haven’t had a s’more since I was twelve.”
“I had one last week,” she confessed, not wanting to tell him she’d been sad and in need of comfort food. “It made me feel like a kid again.”
“I’m in,” he said. “You make the s’mores and I’ll wash the soup bowls.”
She liked that he shared in the chores, however simple they might be. He didn’t stick up his nose at doing dishes and act like it was women’s work. She soon returned to the kitchen. Opening a top cupboard door, she rummaged inside, pushing aside cans and pasta. What if she didn’t have any chocolate left? Or the marshmallows were stale? She didn’t have the heart to disappoint him.
The s’mores gods were on her side. She found a box of graham crackers, a bag of marshmallows, and two Hershey’s candy bars on the shelf. She went on to layer the ingredients, then wrapped each one in aluminum foil. She cooked the s’mores on a flat cast-iron frying pan over the diminishing flames.
“Grab two paper plates,” she called to Lander once the scent of chocolate permeated the foil. It smelled so good.
Sticky, gooey, delicious. They folded back the wrap and let their desserts cool. Finally, Lander couldn’t wait any longer and dived in. “You have marshmallow lips.” She laughed at him once he’d polished off his s’more.
“You have graham cracker crumbs on your chin,” he tossed back at her.
Before she could swipe off the crumbs, he leaned in and licked them away, then kissed her with his marshmallow mouth. Decadent sweetness, Abby thought, as he penetrated her lips with his chocolaty tongue. She decided, right then and there, that s’mores were her new favorite dessert. She wished Lander would be around to enjoy them with her all winter long.
Taking a breather, they tossed their paper plates on the coffee table and, a second later, he drew her so close she felt at one with him. His robe gapped across his groin and his sex poked through the flannel panels. He was fully erect. A shift of each shoulder and he’d rid himself of the robe. She liked him in nothing but skin.
“You wear way too many clothes,” he told her, drawing her long-sleeved T-shirt over her head. Her navy leggings disappeared next. “No underwear this time,” he said. “I like your sense of freedom.”
“I noticed you don’t wear boxers or briefs either.”
“Never have. They’re too confining.”
“We’re both naked now.”
He nipped the corner of her mouth. Her chin. The soft skin near her ear. “Let’s take advantage of a second condom. Maybe even a third.”
Abby found her way onto his lap, straddled him, and stayed there all afternoon. Until twilight stole the late afternoon haze from the day and darkness patterned the windowpanes. She rose only once, wrapping herself in the quilt, to light a candle; the air wafted with the cool, calming scent of White Ice.
Walking toward the window, she stared out into the night. It was then she realized the wind had died. The snow had stopped falling. A chill that had nothing to do with winter invaded her. Her heart slowed, and a hint of sadness touched her. She was sated, tired, and wanted to sleep, yet she was afraid to close her eyes. Not wanting to wake to sunlight, electricity, and the deep rumble of snow plows.
She said nothing to Lander about what she saw outside. Instead she snuggled against his side and warmed herself with his body heat, wanting to keep him with her a little while longer.
Lander woke with a yawn and a stretch. He’d fallen asleep sitting on the couch. Cuddled by his side, Abby embraced him with her womanly warmth. They shared her grandmother’s unfinished quilt. One end covered his groin, and the other conc
ealed her breasts and belly.
She looked so peaceful, he thought. And so perfect for him. Her eyelashes were long and light brown. Her smooth skin pinkened with a morning blush. Her lips were slightly parted, and her breath puffed over his heart. He smiled over her static hair. So spiky, yet so silky.
All in all, this woman did it for him.
He wanted her in his life.
He would find a way to make her fit.
He sensed something was different in the light of day. He narrowed his gaze and looked around. Sunlight blinked through the deep snowdrifts outside the front window. The sky was a swirl of gray and blue. He listened intently, catching a noise that was barely a sound. Where was it coming from?
He finally located the soft gurgle. The string of bubble lights on the tree were now bubbling. He’d left the strand plugged in, so he would know when the electricity had been restored. The power must have come on during the night, sometime between their lovemaking and their need for sleep.
His stomach sank. Having the lights on moved up his departure date. Snow removal wouldn’t be far behind, he assumed.
His time on the mountain was coming to a close.
He needed a private moment to put his life together again.
Cautiously, and not wanting to wake her, he slid off the sofa, then gently eased Abby down. He placed a pillow under her head and covered her with the quilt. She didn’t move a muscle.
He reached for his pants on the arm of the overstuffed chair. He stepped into them, zipped and buttoned. His shirt came next. Pain splintered his side, and he knew he needed to see a doctor. That would come soon.
He picked up his cell phone off the coffee table and walked down the hallway, checking its reception. He finally got a signal at the back of the cabin. He found fifty texts from his mother and his sister. Their concern for his whereabouts and safety became more urgent with each message. Instead of texting, he gave his mother a call.
The Sugar Cookie Sweetheart Swap Page 21