Baby It's Cold Out Bear Holiday Bundle

by T. S. Joyce

  His weight on me was a comfort, and his bulge pressed between my thighs. I spread my knees wider, and he ran his fingertips from my ankle, up to my knee. Fire, fire, fire. His hand flattened and became firm as he grasped my thigh, so high up under my sleeping gown. Up…up…to my bare hip, where he gripped me again, digging his fingertips into my skin just right. I arched up again, rolling my hips against his because it felt good. His lips found my throat and sucked. Down, down he gently bit, and sucked, and kissed until he reached my breast and then I was utterly gone. I had to have more, I had to have everything. I wanted every inch of his skin pressed against mine.

  Ukiah slid his hand that was under my gown to between my legs, and he moaned when he felt how wet I was there. He slid his fingertips up and down my slit, and right when he had me writhing against him, he plunged his finger inside of me, rolling his hips with his stroking. I panted his name, and he gave in at last. Ukiah pulled his finger out of me, and pushed his breechcloth down and laid his thick, throbbing member against me. He rocked a couple of times until I whispered, “Please, Ukiah,” and he gave me a hungry smile, his eyes sparking nearly white in the fire glow.

  The head of his cock was at my slick entrance, and I was already so close, already wanted him so badly. I spread my knees wider, and he pushed into me and it…was…everything.

  Head thrown back, I moaned as he pulled back, and pushed in deep again. And again. And again, his body pressed to mine. He ripped my gown down the front with little effort and shoved the fabric to the side, laid back on me until my breasts were flush against his stony chest. And he bucked into me again. This time he stayed deep, rolling his hips shallowly. “Come on, Maya,” he growled, and that was enough. My body convulsed around his cock, and I cried out over and over as he thrust into me. And right as I felt shattered completely from the inside out, Ukiah rammed into me hard and throbbed in me, and I could feel it—the jets of warmth he filled me with.

  Body trembling and spent, I held onto him while he kissed my neck, my collar bones, the tips of my shoulders and back to my neck. The smile on my face had to be the silliest expression, but I couldn’t help it. Being touched by Ukiah was more than I could’ve ever imagined.

  He rolled me over and cradled my back to his chest there in the heat from the fire, and traced the curve of my hip to my ribs and back with the softest touch. His face was pressed against my hair, and there was a smile in his voice when he said, “I’ve ruined you for anyone else.”

  “You don’t sound very remorseful,” I said with a giggle, snuggling back against him.

  “No. You were always mine. Why would I be sorry for touching what is mine?”

  His. Ukiah’s. I wanted to cry tears of joy at how beautiful that sounded. To belong to someone was a very special gift, and my person was Ukiah, the man I’d loved since I was a child.

  “Ukiah?” I whispered, smiling into the dark.

  “Mmm?”

  “I’m not sorry either.”

  Chapter Eight

  Maya

  Christmas Eve

  Ukiah had disappeared by sunup this morning.

  I’d woken up back in bed, tucked tightly under the covers, the fire with fresh logs on it, and a scribbled note that said he would meet me at Christmas Eve services tonight.

  I couldn’t help but feel a little abandoned though, and then disgusted with myself that I couldn’t even go a day without pining for a man. What had happened to the tough, independent woman in me? Well…I’ll tell you what happened. A handsome werewolf had taken me to bed and gotten me completely hooked on his touch and his constant care, and then left me out in the cold, harsh, world alone.

  Okay, I was being melodramatic. The harsh, cold world was really a big beautiful cabin on the Dawson Ranch where we all spent the day baking and cooking for an obscene amount of people, apparently. I didn’t remember us cooking this much food for other Christmases, but then again, I had often been running around with Ukiah and his cousins instead of helping in the kitchen.

  And really, I enjoyed it. The comradery, the catching up, the teasing and laughter. The boys sneaking snacks and Lucianna smacking anyone’s hand with a spoon who turned thief.

  I just missed Ukiah and wondered where he’d run off to. He’d slept with me, and then…poof. He was gone. Had he given me his back again? Like he’d done all those times when we were younger? Was he second-guessing the affection he’d had with me? God, was he second-guessing me?

  Kristina had packed me up on Timber, and sent me on my way, clad in the red saloon dress that showed way too much of my bosoms, but was easily covered by my thick winter jacket. Mother and Father had left early this morning, but for some reason, I wasn’t in a hurry to head back to town. The Dawson Ranch felt more like home now, but that part, I couldn’t explain. I had some shopping to do before the stores closed early, so here I was, bumping and bouncing along the snowy road, freezing my ears off and counting the minutes until I found myself in a store and out of the bitter wind.

  Timber was fine with a quick trot, so it didn’t take us too long before I was searching for trinkets and gifts for Ukiah’s family and mine.

  And in the very last store—the home décor shop, I stumbled upon Ukiah’s gift. My heart skipped two beats, at least, as I studied the small painted canvas. It was as if the artist had made this just for me to give Ukiah. I hoped he liked it.

  Burlap bags of gifts in my hands, I hustled back home, nearly tripping twice on my skirts in the snowy street. When I made it to the front porch, ready to be in front of the fireplace of my parent’s home, there was something there, tucked into the corner by the door and wrapped in thick red paper.

  I dropped the sack of gifts inside and came back out, knelt by the present. The tag was written in Ukiah’s handwriting. For Maya.

  My stomach jumped this way and that as excitement flooded my veins. I pulled up the gift from the mound of snow it sat upon, and hurried inside. I was alone in the house, rushing to remove my mittens I’d borrowed from Lucianna so I could tear into the wrapping paper.

  In desperation, I shredded the paper. Inside a long, rectangular box was a set of three knives, all of different sizes and shapes. They were kitchen knives. I removed one and turned the fine blade in awe. The light caught the sharp metal, and glinted off it. The handle was made of deer antler and had been sanded smooth. The knife fit my grip perfectly, and when I drew the steel through a piece of the thick wrapping paper, it cut it like butter, with no resistance. These were the highest quality knives I’d ever seen.

  But…

  They were a gift for my job in Boston. The restaurant I worked at required us to bring our own knives, a fact that I’d told Ukiah in a letter.

  It was a gift for my new life, the one I would soon go back to.

  And though it was a beautiful, and thoughtful gift, it made me a little sad. I would think about him every time I used them. I was going to miss him terribly.

  The church bells rang out, signifying that Christmas Eve service would start soon. Anxious to see Ukiah again, I tucked the knives back in the box, and replaced my mittens, then bustled out the door and straight across the street for a shortcut through some of the alleyways to the church.

  Ukiah was waiting at the end of the first one.

  “I got your gift,” I said breathlessly. I stumbled right into a hug, uncaring if anyone saw my shocking embrace with him or not. “I love them so much, Ukiah!”

  His deep chuckle reverberated from deep in his chest, vibrating against my cheek. He hugged me back. “I’m glad you like them.”

  “Hey,” I said, easing back. “Where have you been all day?”

  “It’s a secret.”

  I frowned. “Hmp. Well, how did you know I was going to walk this way?”

  “You always went this way to the church.” He offered his arm and I slipped my hand into the crook of his elbow. “I remember everything.”

  “I forgot you used to walk with me sometimes.”

  He aske
d me, “Remember all scandalized looks we would get?”

  I snorted and waved to Teddy Banks, who was sitting on a stoop, emptying a rock out of his boot. He was openly gawking at us. We were apparently still getting those looks.

  “How have you been?” I asked politely, because the way to this town’s heart was manners and acting like nothing ever got to me. I’d learned that early on.

  “Its…good…Maya. And Ukiah.” He pulled his boot on and stood, scratched his head. “I’ll admit I never thought I would see you two walking around here together again.”

  “Mmm,” Ukiah murmured. “You have a good day, Mr. Banks.”

  “You too, Ukiah. Uh, wait! Uhhh, tell your dad and Lucianna hello from me and the missus.”

  “Will do. You and Mrs. Banks have a Merry Christmas,” Ukiah said, and Mr. Banks gave the same tidings back to us.

  When we were out of earshot, I told Ukiah, “I think people would always look at us, but in this town, where so many people know us, and know our history, and know our parents, I don’t think it’s just because of our skin colors. I think rumors swirl around the Dawsons, and we were under that umbrella. People here can’t help but like them, but they’re also a little wary and don’t understand them. And we’re a part of that Dawson mystery.”

  “Did you get stared at in Boston?” he asked low. “Were people rude about you being mixed?”

  “Yes. But also no. There were other people who were mixed. Ladies, like me. Even if people in society were curious at first, they got used to me and I got used to them. Boston is more progressive than the small towns. You though,” I said with a giggle. “You would attract attention everywhere you went in Boston.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you wear a mix of white man’s clothes and Ute styles, and you have smooth dark skin, but bright eyes, and that long hair that men don’t usually wear. And you’re…you’re…” I swallowed hard and cleared my throat so I could try again. “Your physique is very healthy.”

  Ukiah belted out a laugh. “The soft city boys don’t look like this?” he asked, eyes dancing.

  “Ukiah Dawson, I can say with utter certainty, there is no one else like you.”

  Was that a blush on his cheeks? He smiled at the street ahead of us, where people were bustling toward the church at the end of the lane.

  “You’re feeling pretty proud of yourself right about now, aren’t you?” I asked him.

  “Maybe.” He leaned in and whispered against my ear. “You like the way my body looks, but you also like the way it feels against yours.”

  Ooooooh, that made all the witty flirty thoughts in my head flitter right out of my ears. He nipped my ear gently and then straightened back up and walked beside me, talking about the chill in the air like he hadn’t just struck me dumb with his wicked talk.

  Memories of last night flitted across my mind. I remembered everything with such clarity. Every touch, every sigh, every moan, every thrust into me. Every bite, every lick, every word he said to me…

  “You have a naughty look on your face,” Ukiah informed me. “Compose yourself, woman, before the preacher sees you and changes his sermon to ‘Avoiding Unholy Thoughts.’”

  I giggled and pressed my gloved hand against my cheek, to try and pull out some of the warmth there. “Well say something unsavory then. Get my mind off of last night.”

  “I stepped in horse crap today. I’m thinking of breeding ponies next spring. Luke has to wear his Christmas long underwear tomorrow too, so we all get to be uncomfortable.”

  I held onto his arm tighter and sidestepped a huge pile of snow. “That doesn’t make me uncomfortable. In fact, I am wearing a new scandalous dress under this jacket that Kristina made me. It’s bright red and shows far too much up top.”

  Ukiah let off a hungry growl that made my insides flutter. “Back here for a couple days and corrupted already.”

  I wanted to say something flirty and witty back, but Mandy Shaefer, who I went to school with years ago, squealed out, “Maya, is that you?” and came hustling toward us as best she could with her pregnant belly leading the way.

  She greeted me and Ukiah like old friends and as she and him talked, I got lost in the moment just watching them. The foundation here was still the same. The people here were still good and kind. I couldn’t see Cotton’s from here, but I thought of it, because it suddenly saddened me that Mandy’s baby would never know what a Christmas celebration at Cotton’s was like. Or Sunday pot roast there, or staying until the restaurant closed, catching up with good friends. It had been the glue for this town in some ways. Even the Dawson brothers and their brides had slowly won over the town by showing up to Cotton’s, and building relationships while they dined.

  “What’s wrong?” Ukiah asked, frowning down at me as we followed Mandy toward the church doors.

  “I was thinking about Cotton’s.”

  “You miss it?” he asked over the sound of his boots crunching through the snow.

  I nodded somberly. This was a happy day, I didn’t want to be sad, and I sure didn’t want to take away from Ukiah’s good mood. “It was a really special place. It’s just a little strange that the children of this town will never know that home feeling there. Do you know what I mean?”

  Ukiah patted my hand that was resting in the crook of his elbow. “You learned to love cooking there. And not just cooking, but the atmosphere you could create around a meal.”

  “Yes! Okay, you do understand.”

  “It’s not the same in your restaurant in Boston?”

  “Oh gads, no. Not even close. It’s more about how much money we can make there, not the art of a meal, or good conversation, or ambiance.”

  “Good,” he said.

  What a strange response. But before I could ask him more, we were pulled into the church, because Christmas Eve services were beginning.

  In this one, the men sat on one side of the room and the women on the other. Ukiah walked me to the row where my mother and the Wolf Brides sat as the murmured chatter of the room went silent. Everyone’s attention was on us, I could feel it. This town hadn’t seen us together in years though, and it was probably a shock. Ukiah and I were grown now, and very different from the children we’d been.

  I sat next to my mother, and watched Ukiah make his way to the men’s side, where he sat next to Luke. Luke had his head leaned back and seemed to be openly sleeping. I hid my laughing with a cough.

  The sermon started and I looked around at all these people I’d grown up knowing. Most of them, I knew their entire family histories, tough times they’d weathered, good times they’d flourished in. And I realized how much I’d missed every single thing about this place. At the time I’d left for Boston, it had felt so necessary to escape Ukiah’s growing indifference. But now that I understood that he was only trying to set me free for a life he thought I deserved more, it cast a different light on the town that had built me. Now that he was showing me his heart, and letting me in, Colorado Springs felt even more like home.

  As the preacher spoke on about the kindness of hearts at Christmas time, I tried to imagine leaving this place in a couple of days, and it hurt. Just the simple thought of getting back on a wagon and saying goodbye to Ukiah was an ache that consumed me.

  Everything had changed.

  Ukiah was watching me from across the room. His slow smile lifted the very corners of his lips, and my heart pounded harder. Handsome man.

  Everything had changed, but not on its own accord. It was Ukiah who had changed it all.

  There was magic in this place again, and I could admit something big to myself now.

  I didn’t want to go back to Boston.

  Chapter Nine

  Maya

  “You look beautiful,” Ukiah murmured low to me. “I like the way you look happy here.”

  I bumped his shoulder, and squeezed his inner elbow gently as a silent thank you for a compliment that filled my heart. How could any one person feel as much joy as I did t
onight?

  In the town’s tradition, Christmas carols lifted on the wind as we walked through the streets singing. We were almost back to my parent’s home, but I didn’t want to say goodbye to Ukiah yet. “Do you want to come inside and spend Christmas Eve with us?” I asked him.

  “No.”

  I dropped my gaze to the snow as the sting of rejection slapped my soul.

  “I have something else planned,” he said softly.

  “Oh. I completely understand.”

  “You don’t…” He pulled my arm in tighter, pressing my knuckles to his ribs. “But you will.”

  The Dawsons were walking just in front of us, along with my parents, singing the chorus of Hark the Herald Angels Sing with the rest of the carolers, but they slowed and stopped right in front of us.

  Lucianna turned around and limped toward me. She was crying, and I didn’t understand as she hugged me up. Was she hurting? Perhaps the caroling was too much for her.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  Tears in her eyes, Lucianna eased back and nodded, and then she turned me toward the buildings on the side street.

  Cotton’s was lit up from the inside.

  Confused, I took a few steps forward, frowning at the building. The boards had been removed from the windows, the snow swept off the front porch, and the sign was gone. It had been replaced by a simple painted wooden board that had been nailed to the door. I couldn’t read it.

  Ukiah’s nostrils flared and his eyes were such an intense gray when I looked up at him. Lantern in one hand, he took mine in the other and led me to the stairs of Cotton’s.

  At the door, he lifted the lantern.

  The small sign read, Maya’s.

  Shocked to my bones, I turned and asked him, “Ukiah, what have you done?

  He held out his hand, and resting in his palm was a single key.

  “I don’t understand,” I squeaked out.

  “Open your present,” he murmured, eyes sparking brighter.