Merry Christmas, Baby

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “It can be.” His jaw tightened. “If you keep that up, the party will be over before you know it.”

  She stopped stroking immediately. “I don’t want that.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “I thought, with all your experience, you’d be able to—”

  “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But watching that curly mop of yours sliding up and down while you… I can’t take it.”

  She touched her hair, suddenly self-conscious. “I know my hair’s a mess.”

  “A wonderful mess.” He shoved his fingers into her hair and cradled her head in both hands. “Your hair is perfect for making love all night long.” Then he kissed her with such enthusiasm that she forgot all about the state of her hair.

  She had to believe that she was perfect, and her hair was perfect, and something about her was so potent that he lost all the sexual control he’d developed over the years. He finally stopped kissing her long enough for her to put the condom on him.

  Earlier he must have thought she was going to put the condom in her mouth before rolling it over his penis. She hadn’t thought of that, but he’d given her another idea. She was moist in other places, too, and a devilish urge made her put the condom down there to gather up some extra lubrication.

  He watched her in rapt fascination. “I’m in serious trouble with you, lady.”

  “Then let’s get into trouble together.” She rolled on the condom. By the time she’d finished, he was breathing like a long-distance runner nearing the finish line. “I’m usually a lot calmer about this, Lacey, but…”

  “But I get you really, really, hot.”

  “That’s an understatement. Crude as this might sound, you’d better climb on before the train leaves the station.”

  If she’d been expecting a long, slow seduction where he aroused her to a fever pitch by kissing her all over, she wasn’t going to get it, at least not this time. Truthfully, long and slow would have frustrated the hell out of her. She’d gone way past simmer to a full boil, and she wanted him to do her now. He could take his sweet time later.

  Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she straddled his hips.

  “I love your breasts.” He cupped them in his large hands. “I haven’t paid enough attention to them.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Centering herself over the object of her desire, she wiggled a little to make sure she had him where she wanted him.

  He made a strangled sound deep in his throat and his fingers flexed, lightly squeezing her breasts. “Don’t wait.”

  “I won’t.” And with that, she lowered herself with deliberation, taking him up to the hilt, closing her eyes and moaning as he stretched and filled her. Ecstasy.

  He gulped for air and brushed his thumbs over her taut nipples. Tilting her head back, she reveled in the erotic friction and instinctively responded by starting to lift her hips in preparation for another downward stroke.

  Suddenly his hands were there, gripping her tight, holding her down. “Be still for a second. Let me…get my bearings.”

  She opened her eyes and looked into his. The wild hunger she saw in those green depths made her womb contract.

  He gasped. “Lacey…”

  “Didn’t mean to. I just—”

  “I know. Me, too. We might have to go for it.”

  “I’m in.”

  His grip tightened on her hips as he held her gaze. “Then ride me, Lacey. Give me all you’ve got.”

  Clutching his shoulders and looking into his eyes, she rose up and came down, rose up again and came down faster.

  “Yeah.” He urged her on, guiding the motion of her hips. “Like that. Like that.”

  Her orgasm thundered closer with every wild thrust. Her bottom smacked against his thighs, and she began to utter little cries that grew louder, and louder yet. She realized that they were utterly and completely alone. No one could hear, and she could let go as she’d never let go before.

  His jaw flexed. “Come for me, Lacey. Come for me!”

  She couldn’t have stopped her climax if she’d tried. It engulfed her, making her abandon all modesty as she pressed down on that glorious cock and arched into a mindless spiral of sensation. Holding her tight, he drove upward with a bellow of satisfaction, finding the open gate to nirvana and joining her there.

  For those few moments, they seemed inseparable. She’d never felt that intensity of emotion, that unique oneness with anyone else. She’d expected polished technique from a man like Tucker. She’d expected pleasure and sinful delight. But she’d never, in her wildest dreams, expected…transcendence.

  She wanted to believe she was special, and that the connection had been as unique for him as it had been for her. But that was probably a foolish hope. He was an accomplished lover, the kind of guy who could have almost any woman he wanted.

  In a twist of fate, a blizzard had trapped him with her for the night. He’d gallantly made her feel like the only woman in the world for him. He probably did that no matter who he took to bed, and she’d do well to remember that.

  5

  TUCKER REALIZED SOON after the most profound climax of his life that he was screwed. He’d allowed his hero complex to take over again, and he would pay dearly for that. But hell, she’d been almost engaged to a guy who made her buy the condoms.

  That had been bad enough, but when he saw the look on her face when she’d thought he was rejecting her hesitant offer to have sex, he hadn’t been able to stand it. She deserved so much more than the jerk she’d been going with. Tucker didn’t consider himself in the so much more category, but he could at least make her feel good on Christmas Eve.

  Well, now, he had. From her wild response and the way her body had clenched his during her orgasm, he was certain he’d given her a happy time. And because no good deed went unpunished, he’d just had the most soul-shattering sexual experience of his life.

  If history repeated itself, and it usually did, Lacey would either move on or go back to her ex. Either way he was hosed, and this time he wasn’t sure how well he’d handle it. True, the rebound guy didn’t always get kicked to the curb. He shouldn’t automatically assume that Lacey would do that.

  He’d love some reassurance that she wouldn’t, but how did you ask a woman if she’d felt reality shift in the past few minutes? For all he knew, she always responded with that kind of enthusiasm. He rather doubted it, but trying to find out would be awkward, to say the least. He’d sound like a loser lacking all self-confidence.

  She slumped against him, her forehead resting on his shoulder, her breathing slowly returning to normal.

  He rubbed her back, marveling at the silky texture of her skin. He’d always imagined that she’d feel like this, but imagining and knowing were such different things. Now he’d never forget the softness under his fingertips. And he’d want to experience it again and again. That might not be in the cards for him.

  As he thought about that, he decided on his plan of action. He’d suggested that they celebrate Christmas with a tree, candles, a popcorn garland and a bar of Santa soap. They should follow through on that, and maybe when they weren’t in this bed, he’d get an inkling of her true attitude toward him and toward a potential continuation of this relationship.

  For years he’d regretted not following up on that kiss. He’d sometimes thought that she couldn’t possibly be as perfect for him as he’d imagined. As it turned out, she was even more perfect.

  He finger-combed her butterscotch curls. “If we don’t get that tree decorated soon, Santa won’t leave you any presents.”

  She stirred and lifted her head to smile lazily at him. “Who needs presents?”

  He considered that a promising statement. “Good point, but after all I went through to bring a tree inside, I think we should put some kind of decorations on it.”

  She laughed softly. “Nag, nag, nag.”

  “Did you nuke the popcorn?”

  “I did.”

  “Then let’s go string it.�
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  She gazed into his eyes. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

  “Crazy as it seems, I am. This is the most traction I’ve ever gotten on the Christmas thing since my mom passed away. I feel a breakthrough coming on.”

  She nodded. “Then we should honor that.”

  “Thank you.” He was reminded that she was a truly nice person who, if she let him down, would let him down easy.

  About twenty minutes later, they’d dressed and laid out their supplies on the kitchen table. She’d volunteered to string popcorn, and he was making a chain of aluminum foil, twisting the foil into links. In his opinion it was an improvement over construction paper and paste, which he didn’t have on hand, anyway.

  She poked a sewing needle carefully through a piece of popcorn, her head bent and her expression focused. “I’d forgotten how much I like doing this.”

  He thought about mentioning that she looked adorable stringing popcorn, her rosy lips pursed and her brow puckered in concentration. He decided against saying anything. Too many comments like that and he might scare her off.

  Glancing up, she noticed his chain. “That’s awesome. I never would have thought of that, but it’ll reflect the light.”

  “We used to cut strips of foil and hang it as icicles, but this is better.”

  “We need something to give the tree a little color, though.” Lost in thought, she continued to string popcorn. Then she glanced up, her eyes alight. “Hershey’s Kisses! I just remembered I have a bag of them I brought for snacks. Naturally this time of year they’re wrapped in red, green and silver. We can tie threads on them and hang them from the branches!”

  “Ingenious.” She didn’t need Hershey’s Kisses when he was prepared to shower her with the real kind. In fact, he already missed touching her, and they’d only been working on this project for ten minutes. At least they’d agreed to only decorate the front of the tree.

  A foil chain could be created much faster than a popcorn garland, and soon he had one about twelve feet long. Standing, he draped it on the tree in a zig-zag pattern.

  “Very pretty.” Her eyes sparkled in that happy way that made his heart swell with satisfaction. “I’m going to remember that trick,” she said. “It’s really effective.”

  “Are you saying you might decorate a tree again next year?” God, he wanted to be there if she did.

  Her smile dimmed a little. “I don’t know.”

  “I’d help you.” He held his breath.

  “That would be nice. I mean, if you’re available.”

  “It shouldn’t be a problem.” He could tell she was hedging her bets, but then, so was he. She hadn’t rejected his offer to help her with a tree next year.

  He’d take that as a reasonable beginning. “I’ll start on the kisses if you want.”

  She lifted her face to his, her lips curved in a tempting smile. “Which kind?”

  Lust slammed into him, but he held himself in check, not wanting her to know just how much he craved her. Not yet, anyway. Bracing his hands on the table, he leaned in close. “You tell me.”

  Heat smoldered in her eyes, but then she grinned. “Hershey’s, I guess. If you start on the other kind, we’ll never finish decorating this tree, and you did haul it in here at great personal sacrifice.”

  “Now that you mention it, shouldn’t you give me at least one kiss in honor of that great personal sacrifice?”

  “All right. Just one.” She closed her eyes.

  He could have moved a few inches and touched his lips to hers, but he didn’t.

  She opened her eyes again. “I thought you wanted a kiss?”

  “I do. I thought you were going to give me one.”

  “I am. Go ahead.”

  “Nope. This is my reward, which means you’re supposed to kiss me.”

  “Oh. I see the distinction.” Putting down her popcorn garland, she reached up with both hands, took him by the ears and pulled him forcefully down to connect with her laughing mouth.

  He was laughing, too, but about three seconds into the kiss, the mood shifted. With a soft moan, she let go of his ears, tunneled her fingers through his hair and thrust her tongue in deep. Desperate to feel her against him, he dragged her out of the chair and heard it clatter to the floor.

  No matter. Keeping his mouth firmly on hers, he scooped her up, kicked the chair out of the way and carried her into the bedroom. Laying her crossways on the bed, he followed her down as he fumbled with her clothes and she wrenched his shirt open, the snaps popping like gunfire.

  He hadn’t paid nearly enough attention to her breasts the first time, but he’d make up for it now. After he yanked her sweater over her head, she arched her back so he could unhook her bra. Soon that joined the sweater on the far side of the bed.

  If he’d been hot before, the tactile pleasure of her breasts beneath his hands and mouth turned him into an inferno. He stroked, nipped and tasted until he was wild from wanting her. But he couldn’t have her until they’d both rid themselves of their jeans.

  Gasping, he pushed himself away from her rosy nipples and stood at the side of the bed so he could shuck his pants. She took her cue from him and wiggled out of hers. That wiggle temporarily mesmerized him as a surge of desire took his breath away.

  She wasn’t practiced at being seductive, yet somehow she’d turned out to be the sexiest woman he’d ever taken to bed. Every move she made turned him on. He was fascinated by her.

  Once she was naked, she scooted around so she was lying lengthwise on the bed. Then she reached for one of the packets on the nightstand, and he realized he was just standing there gaping at her when he should be moving this process along.

  Taking the packet from her outstretched hand, he put on the condom. If he only had this glorious opportunity to be with her for one night, he was still one lucky cowboy, and he needed to let her know that.

  He could do it by slowing the pace and loving her the way she deserved to be loved, instead of behaving like a rutting bull elk. He moved over her carefully, dropping soft kisses on her cheeks, her eyelids, and finally, on her mouth. “Thank you,” he murmured.

  Breathing fast, she slid her hands up his chest. “For the condom?”

  “That, too.” He nuzzled the tender spot behind her ear. “But mostly for allowing me stay with you tonight.”

  “I couldn’t very well let you freeze to death.” Her hands roamed around to his back, stroking, kneading, caressing.

  “No, but you didn’t have to let me do this.” He ran his tongue along her collarbone and felt her shiver beneath him. “Or this.” Leaning down, he placed a ring of kisses around her nipple.

  “Which I hope is leading to this.” She grasped his cock and gave it a quick squeeze.

  “Lacey!” Lifting his head, he looked into eyes bright with a combination of lust and laughter. “Damn it, I’m trying to be romantic.”

  She resumed massaging his chest. “I appreciate that, Tucker, but you had the RPMs way up there a few seconds ago, and as a consequence I’m still operating full throttle. How about you drop the clutch and peel out?”

  “But I want you to know that I cherish this—”

  “I know you do. You nearly froze to death digging up a Christmas tree so I could have a real one to decorate. Then you carried me into the bedroom. No man’s ever done that, bodily picked me up and taken me to bed.”

  “They haven’t?” He felt good about that.

  “Nope. And let me tell you, it makes a girl feel special to be carried into the bedroom like Scarlett O’Hara.”

  “Good. I want you to feel special.”

  “You know what else makes a girl feel special?”

  “What?”

  “When a guy is so desperate to have her, he can’t wait another second. She can see that he has this intense need to thrust deep inside her, to join with her in the most basic way that a man and a woman—”

  “Got it.” Holding her gaze, he drew back and swiftly buried his
cock up to the hilt. The sensation of being inside her while he looked into her eyes made him dizzy with joy. He took a shaky breath. “Like that?”

  “Exactly like that.” Her blue eyes seemed to mirror the intensity he felt. As she cupped his face in both hands, her words came out in a breathless rush. “If you ask me, this is pretty romantic.”

  “Glad you think so.” He drew back and rocked forward again, moving in tight, locking them together. “How about that?”

  “Even more romantic.”

  “Then, lady, get ready to be romanced out of your mind.” He began a steady, insistent rhythm, thrusting deep each time. He felt triumphant as her eyes darkened and her skin flushed pink. Her hands fluttered from his face to his shoulders, and then to his hips. Her fingers dug in as she rose to meet him and began to whimper with need.

  As her cries increased in urgency, he bore down, seeking her climax, but also seeking something more, something elusive. He longed to reach the essence of her, to touch that part of her that no other man had ever touched.

  Her body moved in perfect time with his as they joined in a race to ecstasy. And then, as if she’d flung open a door, he felt it—her complete and utter surrender. He abandoned the last of his restraint, giving to her as she’d given to him, holding nothing back, driving into her again and again, his cries echoing hers.

  Her spasms began a breath before his, and he shouted with the joy of it as they came and came and came…together.

  For long moments his body shook as he stayed braced above her. He’d closed his eyes at the very last, the better to focus on the rolling splendor of climaxing when she did. But now he opened his eyes and looked down at her.

  She gasped for breath, obviously unable to speak yet. But her luminous gaze told him more than words that he hadn’t been wrong. Something magical had happened between them.

  As her breathing slowed, she reached up and stroked his cheek. “I love how you make me feel,” she murmured.

  “That’s good.” He cleared sudden emotion from his throat. “Because I love how you make me feel, too.” He had no idea if this magic between them would last for an hour or a lifetime, but he vowed to be grateful for the gift and not worry about its duration.