Santa, Honey

by Sandra Hill

  “Who looks after you?” he asked.

  “I take care of myself.”

  They hiked on in silence, and Matt’s trail grew steadily steeper. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with air untainted by city smog. He really should find a way to spend more time upstate. His life in the city always seemed more hopeful after a visit home.

  He darted a glance at Casey. He was beginning to have hope in that department, too. The hike was a good idea. She was definitely warming to him.

  After about a half-hour climb, he reached his destination—a flat ledge where a break in the pines afforded a sweeping view of the valley. Casey halted behind him, pushing her hood back to reveal her wild black curls. Her cheeks were flushed pink with the effort of the climb. She was out of breath, and panting.

  Project: Indie Film. Genre: Erotica. Title: Breathless…

  He sucked in a breath of his own.

  Just then, as if on cue from some unseen director, the sun broke from behind a cloud, flooding the valley with sparkling light.

  “Wow.” Casey’s tone was filled with awe. “What a beautiful view.”

  “Worth the climb?” Matt asked with feigned casualness.

  “Oh, yes. Definitely. Thank you. For insisting I come up here.”

  She turned and gave him a brilliant smile.

  He took it full force in his chest.

  Their eyes met and held. After a long moment, the smile wavered, and the light in her eyes dimmed. She gave a self-conscious laugh and turned away.

  Not good. In a fit of reflexive desperation, Matt scooped a handful of snow off a nearby bough and tossed it.

  It exploded against the back of her head.

  “Wha—? Ooh!”

  She spun around, shaking her head, curls bouncing, white flakes flinging in every direction. A shudder wracked her body as some of the snow slipped down the back of her neck.

  “Oooh! I can’t believe you did that!”

  Matt was already packing his second handful of snow. He gave her a slow smile as he tossed the snowball from hand to hand.

  Her eyes widened. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Just watch me.” The missile burst against her upper chest, just under her chin.

  She sputtered. “Why you—” Dropping into a crouch, she scrabbled to pack her own snowball. But not before he’d tossed a third one.

  Her counterassault was two-fisted, and messy. It splattered his stomach and thigh. He retaliated with a quick feint to the left, followed by a well-aimed strike to her chest. She tried to jump backward, got her snowshoes tangled, and fell on her butt. But she was laughing now, splashing armfuls of snow in his general direction. He bore the brunt of the attack stoically, looming over her as he packed a new ball of snow.

  “See this?” he said. “It’s going right down your neck.”

  “No!”

  Somehow, even though she was lying on her back, she’d managed to form a decent snowball. With surprisingly good aim for a southern girl, she flung it directly at his nose.

  He tried to dodge, but snowshoes weren’t exactly designed for quick movement. It hit him square in the face. With a choked laugh, he lunged for her.

  She screamed as he pounced. He tried to take the brunt of his weight on his outstretched arms, but the snow was soft and his hands, poised on either side of her head, sank through the surface. His body pressed Casey’s into the cold, fluffy blanket of white.

  He managed enough leverage to roll to one side, taking her with him. He flopped onto his back in the deep depression their bodies had made. Casey sprawled on top of him. Their legs tangled hopelessly, locked tight by their unwieldy snowshoes.

  Her head was just below the rim of the snow. His arms were around her waist. She shoved against his chest, trying to lever herself up and off him. She didn’t get far. She tried again, her hips shifting and wriggling against his. He felt himself go hard. His hands locked together against her lower back. When she tried a third time to get up, he didn’t give her so much as an inch.

  He watched her face, and saw the exact moment she realized he was pulling her down rather than helping her up. He waited, his breath barely moving in his lungs, frozen with anticipation. If she really didn’t want him, now would be the time to let him know.

  She held herself rigid for an instant, her gaze locked with his. He could drown, he thought, in the dark of her eyes. Her eyelashes were thick, and very long. They fluttered downward, and a breath of white-puff air escaped her lips.

  She brought her hand up, and tentatively brushed her fingers over the stubble on his chin.

  It was all the encouragement he needed.

  His hands slid up her back, over her shoulder blades, to settle behind her head. Slowly, he urged her mouth down to his.

  This is not the sort of thing that happens to me.

  This was the kind of thing, Casey thought, that happened to Emma. Emma was the impulsive sister. The beautiful sister. The sister who inspired men to lust on a regular basis.

  Casey was the practical one, the smart one, the industrious one. The sister men overlooked.

  Matt wasn’t overlooking her.

  Not by a long shot. His lips were warm, brushed with cool snow. His body was hard and hot, pressing against her as his mouth worked magic. She shifted. He froze for a beat, as if he expected her to push him away. Instead she aligned her body more perfectly with his. His arms tightened.

  A growl vibrated in his throat. His kiss turned urgent, his lips parting hers, his tongue stroking. And then, somehow, he’d unzipped her coat and was slipping his hands inside. What had happened to his gloves? He palmed her breast, his hand sliding over her sweater, his thumb teasing the peak of her nipple beneath the thin knit fabric. A jolt of electricity zinged through her body.

  She felt her insides melting. She’d fallen with her legs on either side of Matt’s right thigh; she felt him flex, hard muscle pressing against the sweet spot between her legs. His erection ground against her lower belly, hard and insistent—even through layers of clothing.

  “My God, Casey.”

  His fingers were doing something clever. She arched into the sensation. One of his hands stole around to cup her bottom. He pulled her down, against him, urging, coaxing. God, it felt good.

  Too good? There was some reason, she thought, why this wasn’t the greatest idea. But Casey’s body, in soaking up the sensations flowing through it, had shoved the logical part of her into some dark corner of her brain. She couldn’t quite remember the reason why she should stop.

  He tugged up her sweater, insinuating warm fingers against her bare skin. They skated up, taking her sweater with them. Cold air brushed goose bumps across her abdomen. In the next instant, her bra went slack.

  His mouth covered her nipple, suckling. Sensation curled, hot and aching, in her chest and belly. She cradled his head against her breast and closed her eyes. He fumbled at the snap on her jeans. His fingers slipped inside, touching her, and she gasped.

  This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. She felt as if she was outside herself, hovering about ten feet above her body, looking down at a man and woman about to make love in the snow.

  How could that woman be her? Had the Casey she’d been all her life vanished so quickly? Or was she so desperate for male attention that she melted for the first hot guy to make a move? Was she so starved for sex she was willing to do it right here in the snow, with a guy she barely knew? A guy who was hitting on the only unattached female in a snowbound resort?

  Her brain and her body abruptly re united.

  She jerked backward, shoving against Matt’s chest. She must have caught him off guard, because she broke his grip easily. Cool air rushed between them. She felt the loss of contact like the twist of a knife in her gut; for an instant, she almost threw herself back on top of him. Their gazes met. His eyes showed his confusion. Hers, she was sure, revealed full-blown panic.

  She tried to get off him, but only ended up falling sideways, widening the snow cave the
y’d created with their bodies. She kicked, trying to untangle their legs.

  “Hey.” He reached out and grabbed her arm.

  “No. Let me go.” She flailed at his arm with her fist.

  “Whoa. Take it easy.” He dropped his arms to his sides. “I’m not trying to do anything you don’t want. If you don’t want me to touch you, I won’t.”

  She paused, panting. What was she doing? What was she afraid of? She hardly knew.

  “I…I’m sorry,” she said, finally freeing her legs. She flopped onto her side, panting from the effort. “I…know that. I just started thinking…”

  His expression was inscrutable. “Maybe you think too much. Did you ever think of that?”

  She was torn between laughter and acute embarrassment. “Or maybe I should have started thinking earlier, before we started this.”

  She crawled out of the hole and struggled to her feet. He followed her, saying nothing while she hooked her bra and zipped her borrowed coat up to her chin.

  “I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said in a low voice. “I thought…” His color heightened. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t mind if I kissed you.”

  “I didn’t mind.” Her voice was shaking. He must think she was an idiot. How could she explain? She didn’t quite understand herself. “At first. But then, when you…It’s just that I’m not…”

  “Used to men pawing you in the snow?”

  She closed her eyes and sighed. “Used to men pawing me at all. I don’t date much.”

  “Then the men you know must be idiots.”

  She opened her eyes and managed a half laugh. “Just the opposite, actually. The guys I know are brilliant computer geeks.”

  “Smart guys can be idiots, too.”

  “And they can be married. Which is what most of the men I work with are.”

  “You must know some single guys. Through Emma?”

  “The actors, you mean? Please. Not my type.”

  His jaw tightened. “Not smart enough for you? Or is it just all the shallowness you object to?”

  Her legs were cold. She busied herself with swatting the snow off her jeans.

  “I know you heard me bad-mouthing Emma’s friends before. But the truth is, I just don’t click with the men she knows. They’re all too good-looking, too confident, too extroverted. A guy like that wouldn’t give me a second look.”

  “That’s his loss, then. I’m way past giving you a second look. In fact, I think I’ve lost count.”

  “Yes, but that’s only because of this place.”

  “What do you mean, this place?”

  “This situation,” she explained. “I’m the only available woman in the lodge, and you were all but forced to offer me the couch in your cabin.”

  “You can’t possibly believe that. Did you see anyone holding a gun to my back when I asked you to go snowshoeing?”

  “No,” she conceded. “But be honest. If you passed me on the street, or met me at a party surrounded by twenty or so women as beautiful as Emma, would you even notice me?”

  “Of course,” he said. But not before he’d hesitated just a split second.

  “No,” Casey said. “You wouldn’t.”

  He frowned down at her. “Then I’d be the idiot. Because you’re a very attractive woman.”

  “No. Emma’s the attractive one. She causes whiplash every time she walks down the street.”

  He studied her, his expression intent. It felt as if he were looking under her skin. She wondered what he saw.

  “Your sister is stunning, Casey. And yes, I won’t lie to you, I noticed her first.”

  Why did his words hurt? They were only the truth.

  “But that doesn’t mean you’re not pretty. Still, it feels that way to you, doesn’t it? It must be hard, living in her shadow.”

  She rubbed her arms. The chill was seeping into her bones. She wanted to be back in the lodge, in her chair in front of the fire, with the magazine she didn’t want to read. She wished she had never left.

  “Emma’s my sister. I love her.”

  “But you can’t help being jealous.”

  “No. I’m not. I’m—”

  “Of course you are. Sometimes. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I love Jake, but that doesn’t stop me from envying him.”

  She blinked. “You’re jealous of Jake? But why?”

  Now he was the one who seemed embarrassed. He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s hard to explain. Jake’s always been…I don’t know…more real than I am.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  “It does to me. With Jake, what you see is what you get. He doesn’t have a self-conscious bone in his body. Me…I find it hard to show myself to the world. I always want a buffer. A mask.” He exhaled. “Do you have any idea what I mean?”

  “I…yes. Yes, I do.”

  An understatement. She knew exactly what he meant. She’d been hiding herself all her life.

  “Tell me something, Casey. If you’d met me at a party, and found out that I dropped out of high school, would you have given me a second glance? Or would you have figured I was someone you didn’t want to know?”

  She didn’t answer. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “I thought so.” He paused. “Ready to head back?”

  She touched his arm. “You’re right. If I’d met you in New York, at one of Emma’s parties, I wouldn’t have talked to you. But not because you don’t have a high school diploma. Because you’re just too damn good-looking.”

  He shot her a look. “Usually, women like that.”

  She just shrugged and started walking.

  Single file, they retraced their footsteps back to the valley floor. Matt didn’t speak until they turned to follow the wider trail along the tree line.

  “You know, when I dropped out of school, I went to New York. Just like Emma. I had this idea I was going to be an actor.”

  “You’re kidding me.”

  “No. And I did score some jobs. Modeling, at first. Magazine ads, and then some television. I even managed to land a few off-Broadway roles before I quit. So I really would fit in quite well with your sister’s friends.” He paused. “The ones you don’t like.”

  Her stomach gave a lurch. “Why did you give it up? The acting, I mean. It sounds like you were a lot more successful than Emma’s been.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. But acting’s an insane way to make a living. I’m a perfectionist, and I just wasn’t as good at it as I thought I should be. So after a few years, I gave up and…and moved on. But I’ve found that in a way, acting never gave me up. It’s so much easier for me to see life…like a theater production, I suppose. It feels that way much of the time, anyway.”

  They’d reached the clearing behind the barn. Matt stopped, and caught Casey’s gloved hand. “But last night, and today…I find I don’t want to play a part. I know this is quick, Casey, and it doesn’t seem like we’re two people who would normally get together, but…it feels right, being with you. It feels real. And I have to tell you, I’m very, very glad your sister is going to lock you out of your room again tonight.”

  She looked up at him, her heart tripping, the bottom of her stomach falling, falling, falling.

  “Just what are you asking, Matt?”

  He dragged a hand through his hair. “I guess…whatever you want me to ask. Nothing more than that.”

  A breeze caught a curl and flung it into her eyes. He smiled, and tucked it behind her ear.

  Leaning forward, he brushed a soft kiss on her lips.

  “I’ll be waiting for your answer.”

  Chapter Seven

  They returned to the lodge to find the rest of the guests relaxing with hot chocolate and spiked eggnog. Casey spotted Jake and Emma entwined under a ball of mistletoe.

  Matt cleared his throat, prompting them to come up for air, to the general amusement of the other guests. Emma, eyes dancing, flashed Casey an unrepentant grin. Jake reached up and snapped a twig from the mistletoe ball. He d
angled it over Casey’s head.

  “Your turn,” he said. “Come on, Matt. Let’s see what you’ve got. Or should I do the honors myself?”

  “Don’t you dare.”

  Before Casey quite knew what had happened, Matt had spun her around and dragged her against the hard wall of his chest. His lips covered hers, sending a sweet twist of desire down her body. For a moment, she clung to him, almost forgetting where she was, until a round of laughter and applause snapped her back to her senses.

  She tore her lips away. Matt leaned in and whispered against her ear. “Lots more where that came from.”

  He straightened as Jake clapped him on the back and gave him some good-natured ribbing. Matt grinned and offered an insult in return. Soon after, when the brothers headed to the kitchen to prep for dinner, Emma wasted no time in hauling Casey to a quiet spot near the Christmas tree.

  “Soooo…” Her eyes danced. “Things are happening for you, too! Way to go, Case. I’m so glad. You’ll be putting that romantic little cabin to good use tonight, I bet.”

  Casey touched a spun glass snowman ornament. “No, Emma, I won’t be. It’s way too soon.”

  “I think not. Did you catch that look Matt gave you on his way out? I seriously expected this tree to go up in flames. That man is deeply in lust. And if he’s even half as good as his brother…” Emma rolled her eyes and exhaled a long, satisfied sigh. “You are in for one fantastic night.”

  “Emma, for God’s sake, be quiet! Or at least, keep your voice down.”

  Casey’s sister flicked a hand. “Oh, relax. No one’s listening.”

  “They will be if you insist on broadcasting rave reviews of Jake’s talents.”

  “Okay, then. Forget Jake’s talents, many though they are. Let’s hear about Matt. What’s going on between you two?”

  “Nothing.”

  Emma eyed her. “You’re lying. I can always tell. Something happened on that little hike you took this afternoon, didn’t it?”

  “Oh, all right. Something did happen. But it was no big deal. He kissed me.” And then we did a bit more than kiss. Heat crept up her neck and into her cheeks.