Winter Hopes (Seasons of Love)

by Jennifer Gracen

  “Oh sure,” she said, her voice deep and mocking. She smiled and joked, “Get me all flustered, put performance pressure on me. Nice. Thanks. I’ll choke at bat, you’re jinxing me. You’re dooming yourself to disappointment.”

  “Impossible.” He smiled back. He kissed her deeply, tasting the liquor on her tongue, lingering on her soft lips before pulling away. “Alright, then. Be a good girl and finish your drink,” he teased, “so I can take you back to my room and spend the rest of the night happily proving you wrong.” He smoothly reached down and retrieved his beer bottle from the floor to take a long swallow.

  She knocked back the rest of her drink in three big gulps. “Wooo. Okay. That oughta do it. Hhmph!”

  “Feeling good now?” he asked, amused as he watched her shudder.

  “Peachy keen, jellybean.” She nodded firmly. “Straddling that perfect line between very buzzed and drunk. I’m golden.”

  He laughed. “Tell me something. Are you gonna be okay? I mean, you just finished that drink pretty quickly. You usually nurse your drinks, right, at least from what I've seen?”

  “I did knock this one back fast, you're right. Let's hope I don't puke. Because no, I'm not a big drinker. Not by a long shot. I’m a casual drinker at best.” She chuckled as she added, “I like a glass of wine here and there, but I probably consumed more alcohol the weekend of Ryan and Melanie’s wedding than I’d had in the preceding two years put together. What a drinkfest that turned out to be, huh?”

  Sam nodded, laughing softly. “It really was, now that you mention it.” He took two more swallows of his beer and stood up. He extended his hand to her, his eyes intense on her face, and said in a seductive tone, “Can we please get out of here?”

  Lydia placed her hand in his and rose from the loveseat with caution. Her head was spinning slightly, and she knew it was as much from desire as the vodka. She took a deep breath and smiled up at him in answer.

  When they emerged from the small, dim bar into the night, the cool air felt wonderful against her face. Her flushed cheeks felt hot, both from the alcohol and her heightened emotions. The brisk autumn air was invigorating and refreshing. She closed her eyes, tipped her face up to the wind, and took deep, cleansing breaths as Sam held her close to his side. He lifted his free hand in the air to hail a cab.

  Headed back to the hotel, in the dark warmth of the back of the taxi, Lydia snuggled close to Sam and said, “I have to tell you something.”

  He grinned. “It’s been a night of confessions. Go for it.”

  She grasped his strong jaw, ran her fingertips across the planes of his face, and kissed him before she said, “I very much want to sleep with you. Please don’t think I had to get drunk to do that. I want you. I don't need liquid confidence. That’s not it at all…” She took a deep breath. “I drank so I could force myself to relax. I'm freaking nervous. Relaxing takes actual effort on my part—tonight, an almost Herculean one. And as much as I’ve enjoyed spending the day with you, I am who I am, and I’m just not that good at letting myself go. I never have been. That's got nothing to do with you, it's all me. I just wanted you to know that. To understand.” She huffed out an exasperated sigh. “Am I making any sense?”

  Sam stared down into her eyes. He caressed her cheek slowly, with great tenderness, and said in a sultry whisper, “Do you know what I’d give to see you really let yourself go?” His fingertips trailed down along her neck, sending a shiver through her. “That would probably be absolutely amazing.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. Then she whispered back, “Well, when we get back to your room, you just might see it. Because God knows I want to let go with you.”

  A sensational smile lit his face before he kissed her passionately.

  CHAPTER NINE

  HAND IN HAND, Sam and Lydia walked through the lobby of his hotel in content silence. They went to the concierge to retrieve her overnight bag, then headed for the elevators to get to Sam’s room on the 43rd floor. There were three other people in the elevator; Sam and Lydia exchanged secretive smiles and he winked as he kissed the back of her hand.

  Sam opened the door to his room and moved aside to let Lydia enter first. He flicked on the lights behind her as she walked slowly into the suite. Watching her as she looked the room over, he moved forward to take her coat and then remove his own.

  “This is really nice,” she said as she admired the sophisticated, luxurious décor. It was a suite with a first-class front room, with cherrywood furniture, plush beige carpeting, and heavy ornate drapes over the windows. A dark brown leather sofa, matching loveseat, and a 27-inch flatscreen TV mounted on the wall added to the opulence. Sam’s laptop sat on a large desk, with some folders and a soft black leather briefcase beside it. Beyond that, she noted the doorway that led to the connecting bedroom and bathroom. Lydia couldn’t help but take a quick glimpse, and saw a beautifully made king sized bed.

  “There’s a great view of the city,” Sam said. “Come here.” He took her by the hand and led her to the large window, using his free hand to use the pull rod that opened the heavy drapes. Outside was a spectacular panorama of the Manhattan skyline from forty-three floors up. The lights of the city glittered and twinkled across the darkness, the expanse of it dazzling.

  “Wow,” she smiled. “You weren’t kidding. It’s magnificent.”

  He stood behind her, slid his arms around her waist, and held her close, easing her back to rest against his chest. She could feel his breath caress the top of her hair, and gently placed her hands over his. He intertwined her fingers between his and gave them a slight squeeze. They stood that way for a long minute, staring at the view outside and savoring the moment. Utterly affected by his closeness, the air in the room seemed to still as the moments passed. She wondered if he felt as she did, fiercely overcome with anticipation and longing. She could hear the blood rushing through her body, roaring in her ears.

  “How are you doing?” he finally murmured. “All’s well?”

  “Exceptionally well,” she murmured back, smiling.

  “Good. You’re feeling a little more relaxed than earlier?”

  “I’m still a little drunk, but yes, I'm relaxed. I'm fine,” she said, turning her head slightly so he could see her profile, see her smile so he’d know that she meant it. "Honestly."

  “Good.” He leaned down until his lips were brushing her ear. At the contact, she shivered, and he said in a deep, velvety tone, “Lydia, whatever you want to do, whatever you don’t want to do, it’s your call. I want you to be at ease with me, to stay relaxed, to feel secure. Okay? It’s all up to you.”

  Feeling like she could barely breathe, she simply nodded and squeezed his fingers with her own.

  He brushed her hair aside with gentle fingers, exposing the curve of her neck. Very lightly, very slowly, he kissed her temple, then her cheek, then her jawline, then bent his head farther to nip at her ear before kissing the nape of her neck. She shuddered, feeling her blood heat like liquid silver. He lingered there, brushing his lips along her skin, tasting her, then lightly scraped his teeth up her neck to her ear and nipped at the lobe again.

  Her breath caught, her stomach flipped, and her blood rushed through her body, reminding her that she was very much alive. Her eyes closed as she tipped her head back to rest against his shoulder, relishing the feel of his hot mouth on her skin. Go with it, she told herself. You’ve been waiting for this. Let yourself enjoy it.

  Turning her head, she said in a hushed, sultry tone, “Remember what you said earlier… about showing me all the ways you’d thought of to top off our night?”

  Sam’s eyes slipped closed for a moment and he swallowed hard, giving her a hint of how much he wanted her. “You bet,” he murmured. He touched his lips to her skin again.

  “Well… go ahead,” she whispered invitingly. “Show me.”

  He unlocked the grasp he had around her waist and took a step back. His hands glided seductively along the soft silk of her blouse as he turned he
r to face him. Looking into her eyes, he smiled softly before reaching up to cup her face with his hands. He lowered his head, nipped at her bottom lip with gentle playfulness, then covered her mouth with his.

  His kiss was a heady mixture of genuine sweetness and intense desire. One of his hands tangled in her thick hair, and the other moved slowly down her back to hold her against him. He deepened the kiss, touched his tongue to hers, and moaned softly into her mouth. She leaned into him and his hands began to roam over her, savoring every soft curve. His mouth, warm and insistent, never left hers.

  It had been so long for her, she decided to enjoy the ride. Lydia’s inhibitions quickly melted away as she felt pure lust flood and overtake her senses. She melted into him, feeling boneless, weightless. Sam kissed her over and over, hot one second, tender the next, all his kisses intense with passion. He wanted her. He was hungry for her. The delight of that realization had her wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him back with matching desire.

  He grasped her even tighter, held her closer, and deepened the kisses as he pressed the entire length of her body against his. His mouth consumed hers. She could feel the evidence of how much he wanted her, hard and undeniable against her belly. It made her almost dizzy with desire as her body surged with a new rush of scorching need.

  The momentum between them skyrocketed quickly. Their kisses grew deeper, more intense, more demanding. Eager hands wandered, the sound of their breathing escalated… everything he gave, she gave right back.

  Sam could feel his self-control slipping away. He'd wanted this too much, and now that he had Lydia in his arms, he wanted to just take her. He wanted to devour every inch of her skin, feel her against him, around him, hear her cry out his name as she let go.

  He forced himself to slow down a bit. It had been a long time for her, and he wanted their first time together to be special; he wanted it to be good for her. Controlling himself, he let her set the pace so she'd be comfortable. She needed that. He knew she needed to feel strong, not vulnerable. Because maybe then, she'd finally let herself go. That was what he wanted most. Even more than his own pleasure, he wanted to watch her have pleasure, and to give that to her, more than anything.

  He buried his face in her neck, kissing, licking, nipping, tasting her. Her skin was so soft, so warm. With a lustful growl, he held her close as he teased her with his mouth, gliding down her neck and back up again. His hands were everywhere, he couldn’t get enough. He heard her breath catch in her throat, felt her shudder, and smiled against her skin. “God, I've been waiting for this,” he told her in a husky whisper. “For you. From that first night.”

  “Oh God, Sam…,” she rasped. She went to his waist and pulled his thin sweater up over his head in a fast, fluid motion, dropping it to the floor. He had on a gray T-shirt underneath, which he yanked off and threw across the room before diving back to her mouth.

  The sweetness had evaporated, replaced by their building mutual desire and aching need. Finally, her reticence and shyness were gone. Her fingers raked across the muscles in his shoulders and trailed down his arms. She ran her hands along his chest as she kissed him back, nipped at his bottom lip as he had hers, then took it between her teeth and sucked. A deep groan escaped him and he dug his fingers into her hips. She pulled away to grasp his chin, and pushed it back with a commanding motion so she could greedily kiss and lick her way down his throat. Her other hand trailed down his bare chest to his belly, teasing, tantalizing, leaving nerve endings on fire in its wake.

  The jolt shot through him like lightning. Lydia was taking what she wanted, starting to let go at last. When she nipped at him roughly, scraping at his skin with her teeth, he recognized that she didn't want to be handled gently anymore, she wanted to be handled. She wanted him just as fiercely as he wanted her, and she was losing herself just as rapidly as he was. Smiling with satisfaction, he breathed her name and half lifted her to fit her against him, letting his hands glide over the smooth silk of her blouse before stripping it off her in one expert action. Her large breasts were gorgeous in a lacy black bra, and as delectable as he'd remembered. He couldn't get enough; he let himself drown in the feel of her. His mouth took as his hands roamed. They kissed frantically, almost grabbing at each other, restraint dissipating in a few heated seconds.

  Sam moved down to devour her neck and skimmed his fingers up her back. He felt her quiver under his touch, felt her hot sigh against his skin, and could barely contain himself. She was wrecking him. He slipped a finger beneath each of her satiny black bra straps and brought them down, trailing his mouth provocatively along her skin as he deftly unhooked the clasp at her back. As the garment fell away from her, she curled her fingers tightly in his hair. He heard her whisper his name, an erotic pleading. She gasped as he caressed and kissed her, possessing her, making her his. Holding her, he kissed his way down her neck, along her chest, down to her breast. When he took the tip into his mouth and sucked, he felt her whole body shudder and heard her low moan from deep in her throat.

  Her hands fell to his shoulders, her fingernails raking across the hard muscles there as she arched her back, pressing into him to give him more of her.

  Lydia couldn't think, and didn't want to. All she knew was that she was exploding with heat, with need. She had to have him inside her. It had been so long—she couldn't wait another minute. She reached down to brush her palm against the intoxicating hardness of him through his jeans and felt the groan rip from his throat, vibrate through his lips that were still closed around her nipple.

  “Sam,” she breathed, “Take me to bed now. Right now.”

  He moaned her name and moved back up to cover her mouth with his in a powerful, intense kiss. His mouth didn't leave hers as he carefully edged her backwards across the suite. Somehow he got them both through the bedroom door without ever letting her go.

  The skyscrapers outside provided the only light in the room, streaming bluish-white through the windows. The only sound in the welcoming darkness was of their heavy breathing as they both reached down to open each other's jeans, almost in a frenzy. He kissed his way down the length of her body, his hands running down her sides to ease her jeans down over her hips. His mouth traveled along her midriff, leaving a trail of hot kisses as he pushed her jeans all the way down. He knelt before her, his tongue making lazy circles around her navel as he helped her step out of her clothes.

  She trembled under his touch and wondered if he felt it, wondered if he knew what he was doing to her. How he completely owned her right then, how much she wanted him. Her hands gripped his shoulders for support as he flung her jeans away, then ran his hands back up her legs with torturous slowness. She could only moan as he cupped her bottom and squeezed before stripping her satin panties off. Hands on her hips, he pressed his lips to her warm, damp center for an intimate kiss and she cried out; her whole body shuddered beneath his hands, and her fingers dug into his skin as she struggled to stay upright. He kissed and licked her there a few more times before he rose to his full height, practically tore off his own jeans and boxer briefs, and all but flung her onto the bed.

  Their mouths crashed against each other's in a fiery match, desperate, insistent. Finally naked and laying in each other's arms, they both relished the feel of their warm bodies, aligned at last, with no barriers between them. Their hands and mouths roamed everywhere, taking, grabbing, their breathing turning to ragged panting as they explored and ravaged each other.

  Sam slipped his hand in between her legs and stared into her eyes as he slipped a finger inside her. A guttural moan tore from her throat as her back arched. He kept stroking her, mesmerized by her fiery responses to his touch. Her eyes met his; his gaze was locked on her. He watched her face as her passion rose and heightened. Her eyes slipped closed and she whimpered in ecstasy.

  “You have to stop,” she gasped. “I won't—Oh God—it'll be too soon—”

  He smiled seductively and murmured into her ear, “You're gonna come more than once toni
ght. I promise you that.”

  She shuddered and moaned in response. Her fingers clutched at his shoulders as she writhed helplessly beneath him. He kissed her neck, her mouth, and she held onto him as if for her life. When he eased two fingers inside and circled her most sensitive spot with his thumb, her breath came in strangled pants and her hips bucked. Rational thought disappeared; she was ruled only by sensation.

  “Let yourself go,” he whispered against her mouth. He kissed her lips as the pace of his fingers increased, relentless, ruthless. Her hips rocked with his rhythm and she moaned his name, sending flames of need cascading through him. “I wish you could see what I see right now… you’re so beautiful.” He didn't take his eyes off her face. “Yes, Lydia… let go… come for me.”

  She came with a powerful cry, clinging onto him as the sensations battered her, washed over her, and swept her away. He lowered his lips onto hers to take her moans into his mouth, continuing his torturously wonderful stroking until he felt her shudders begin to slow and subside. Before she could say a word, before she could catch her breath, he rolled away to reach to the night stand where he'd left the condoms. Opening one, he quickly got it on and pushed himself inside her with a low groan.

  She wrapped her legs around him, welcoming him. It had been so long; her mind blurred as the sensation of him filling her consumed her. He felt so damn good. Her name fell hoarsely from his lips as he thrust, deep and hard. She raised her hips to draw him deeper inside and kissed him, whispered to him, held on to him. He moaned as he moved inside her, again and again, his hot mouth trailing kisses along her skin. The primal rocking of their bodies quickly brought him to release, and he buried his face in her neck as the groans ripped mercilessly from his throat. Overwhelmed, she peaked again and cried out as they rode the wave together, straining against each other to make it last as long as they could.