Once Upon a Texas Christmas

by Katherine Garbera

  “You sound like a commercial,” she said.

  “Do I? You’d think I hawked products,” he said with a grin, and she remembered what she’d said when they first met.

  “Let’s hope you know how to use this one—unlike the coffee machine.”

  He laughed, turning the heat up a bit higher before he put the Lincoln in drive and started to make his way down the drive of Harwood House.

  Avery sat next to him tensely watching the road as he drove carefully to his compound.

  “Do you want to spend the night with me?” he asked.

  “Yes and no. I’ve been trying to figure this out since our kiss. And I’m not any closer to figuring out how I can be cool around you and stop thinking about what you look like naked.”

  “It’s not that complicated,” he said. “I’m just a guy.”

  He didn’t say anything else, just drove up to his mansion and instead of leaving the Lincoln in the big circle drive, he parked it in the garage. He came around to open her door and she slid around on the seat to get out of the Lincoln, which had a running board on the side due to the high wheel base. He put his hands on her waist and she put her hand on his neck. She did that a lot he noticed. He hesitated because there was a look in her eyes that made her seem shy.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “I…I just don’t want you to think I’m here because you’re famous,” she said. “That really doesn’t mean anything to me.”

  He could see she was on the cusp of changing her mind and he’d honor whatever decision she made but she’d kissed him earlier like she wanted to be here. And he remembered how she’d surprised him with her humor so many times.

  “I thought you were here because I was your boss,” he said with a wink.

  She mock punched him in the shoulder. “Smartass. I just didn’t want you to think that I’d be putting a call into the Enquirer tomorrow morning.”

  “I’d be disappointed if you did,” he admitted. “But not in you, in myself for having read you so wrong.”

  “Okay.”

  “Hey,” he said. “I’m not doing this because you’re famous in Whiskey River.”

  She gave him a look from under her eyelashes. “Don’t push it.”

  “I’m not pushing it, I’m pushing you. I’m trying to see the real Avery. Not the one who tries to project that image of a woman who’s so together every second of the day.”

  “Do you think I’m not?” she asked.

  He had no idea. He just wanted the real woman in his bed.

  He shrugged then put his hands on her waist and, lifting her out of the cab of the Lincoln, set her on her feet next to him. Then he held his hand out to her and she placed hers in his. He laced her fingers through his and led the way into his house. The house was dark except for the motion sensor nightlights, which came on as they walked into the mudroom.

  He toed off his shoes and then took off his wet jacket and hung it on one of the pegs. Then he turned to help her with her jacket. He hung it next to his and she bent over to undo her sandals. He stopped her.

  “Let me.”

  He went down on his knee next to her, putting her foot on his thigh as he undid the delicate ankle strap and then lifted her foot from the shoe. He ran his finger along the arch of her foot and up her leg. Her calf was well toned and the area behind her knee was ticklish, which he learned when her leg jerked, brushing against his abdomen.

  He set her foot on the floor and then lifted the other one to remove her shoe, this time allowing his fingers to move up her inner thigh. Her dress was a fitted sheath so it would only go to the top of her thighs and then it was caught on the curves of her hips.

  He stood up slowly, running his hand along the left side of her body, searching for the zipper, and when he found it he drew it down slowly. His hands had warmed up when he’d driven them home so he wasn’t concerned about slipping it into the gap created by the opening, holding her by the small of her back and drawing her closer to him. He looked down into her upturned face.

  He hadn’t realized how short she was since she always wore heels around him but instead of reaching his shoulder as she usually did, she was only at about mid-chest. He put his free hand under her butt and lifted her off her feet until they were eye to eye.

  She wrapped one thigh around his hips and her arms around his shoulders as he carried her into his house, intending to climb the stairs and take her up to his bed, but she brought one arm around between them and started to undo the buttons of his tuxedo shirt. Her fingers were cool and quick and nimble and whatever doubts had been in her mind seemed to be gone now and he was glad for it.

  He needed her tonight.

  He’d been running and that cold he’d felt in the ice storm tonight echoed the coldness deep in his soul.

  He stopped at the large solid antique table that his decorator had put in the foyer right in the center of the hallway. It had been the home of a big flower arrangement the last time he visited but there wasn’t anything on it this time.

  He set her down on it and stepped between her thighs, brought his mouth down on hers, thrusting his tongue deep into her mouth as his hand drew the hem of her dress up to her waist. Then he stepped back, bringing it up over her head and tossing it on the floor of the foyer.

  She put her hands behind her and leaned back. Her breasts were full and creamy, encased in a burgundy lace and silk bra that matched her dress. She had a pair of tiny bikini panties that matched the bra and a garter belt and thigh-high hose.

  “Damn. If I’d known what you had on under that dress, we would have spent the night in the Lincoln.” She just smiled at him and shifted subtly letting her thighs fall open further. He shrugged out of his shirt, stepping closer to her and looking down at her legs as he put his hand on one of her thighs… He noticed her tattoo.

  Sylvester the cat. The one who had chased Tweety Bird in the cartoons. “Big Sylvester fan?”

  She blushed and he watched the color spread from the tops of her breasts up her neck. “No. I didn’t know he was from a cartoon. I picked it because I thought it would annoy my parents.”

  He had to laugh at that. He undid the suspender that held her hose on her left thigh and slowly drew it down her leg so he could get a closer look at the tattoo. It was a pretty decent-sized tattoo. He traced the outline and watched as her shivers spread up her body. He leaned down to kiss the cat tattoo.

  “I like it,” he said. This was the real Avery, he thought, this little bit of stubborn quirkiness that not everyone saw.

  “I don’t.”

  He removed her other hose and undid the garter belt then leaned forward, kissing her upper thigh again and moving up her body. She put her hands on his shoulders, her nails digging into his back as his mouth moved along the edge of her panties, following the line up to her belly button. He licked it and then moved further up her body. The table was strong enough to take the weight of the both of them and he caught her wrist in his hand, stretching her arm up above her head so her back arched.

  He nuzzled the fabric of her bra to the side so he could find the tip of her nipple with his tongue and sucked it into his mouth. She arched underneath him. With one hand in his hair, she moved the other down his back. Her nails skimming his skin as she drew her hand up and down. He reached beneath her and undid the bra with one hand and then drew it off her body and tossed it toward her dress on the floor.

  She was lying on her back, her creamy skin and curves contrasting with the deep mahogany of the table underneath her. He was so hard he thought he was going to combust. He drew her panties down her thighs a little, rubbing his finger over her tattoo. Was there anything sexier than a woman who wasn’t afraid to show him how much she wanted him?

  He stood there looking down at her, lifting one of her feet to his chest. He caressed her leg, moving up toward the center of her. The heat of her body drew him. He replaced his hand with his mouth, kissing and nibbling his way up her other leg until once again his head w
as buried between her legs. He mouthed her through her underwear and felt the heat of her body. Her thighs tightened around his head and then she let them fall open.

  He reached between her legs, pushing the burgundy silk underwear to the side. Her blonde hair was neatly trimmed and flesh so delicate as he leaned down, parting her with his fingers. Her flesh was a delicate pink and the little nub at the center swollen with need. He gently caressed her. Her hips shifted a little bit from the left to right, sliding on the table.

  He rubbed her gently in an up and down motion.

  “Logan,” she moaned.

  He used her moan for encouragement, continuing to move his finger inside of her before he leaned closer to her writhing body. He breathed on her intimate flesh, watching her legs fall wider apart as she lifted her hips toward him, presenting her body to him. She pushed her fingers into his hair and held his head to her as her legs scissored back and forth on the table. She lifted the one with Sylvester on the thigh and draped it over his shoulder as he licked her. He traced her core, before slowly pushing one finger up inside of her. Her hips jerked upright and she made a long, low sound again. She was delicious.

  He added a second finger inside of her and thrust them deep and deeper. She felt so real to him in this moment. His erection was so hard he could feel his heart beating in it as he strained against the zipper of his tuxedo pants. He didn’t want to stop touching Avery. He continued moving his mouth over her, until he felt her body start to tighten around his fingers, kept rocking them in and out of her until she arched her back and cried his name.

  He lifted his head, pulled his fingers from her body and looked up at her. She was on her elbows looking down at him. Her blue eyes were fiery, passionate. There was a flush to her body and her breath sawed in and out, causing her breasts to rise and fall rapidly.

  “Logan.”

  Just his name. He’d never seen her at a loss for words before.

  “Avery.”

  “I want more,” she said.

  “You’re going to get it,” he said, lifting her off the table and tossing her over his shoulder as he carried her to the stairs.

  “Hey. Put me down.”

  “Oh, I will. As soon as we are in my bedroom.”

  He set Avery down in the middle of his bed and then turned on the light on the nightstand. His sexy Christmas angel lying in the middle of that deep navy comforter. Her hair was coming out of the updo she’d had it in.

  Her lips were swollen, the tips of her breasts were pointed and hard, making him realize he still had so much of her to explore. She spread her arms out to her sides and parted her legs and raised her eyebrows at him.

  “I assume that was just a warm-up,” she said.

  Damn. She got to him. “An appetizer.”

  He turned and walked to the adjoining bathroom to get a condom and then came back into the room. She was sitting up on the bed when he came back in.

  He froze in the doorway. “Changed your mind?”

  She shook her head, holding out her hand to him. He came over to the bed and sat down on the edge of it. She shifted to her knees and he felt her fingers on his back. He froze.

  She’d seen this. The ugliest part of him. Yet she still touched him like he wasn’t broken. He didn’t want to dwell on the emotions she stirred in him. They made him feel out of control.

  “I didn’t know you had scars,” she said.

  “Why would you? We haven’t been naked around each other before,” he said. Already he was feeling like he needed to get her back in his arms before she asked him anything else.

  “This looks bad,” she said.

  “It was,” he admitted, drawing her into his arms, bringing his mouth down on hers and then rolling her underneath him on the bed. He skimmed his hands down her sides, caressing the curve of her breasts.

  He felt her hands between them as she lowered his zipper and then pushed her hands into the opening of his pants. Her fingers wrapped around him, stroking him through his underwear. His hips jerked forward. His control was slipping.

  She traced his length up and down, finding the opening in his boxers and then he felt her long cool fingers on him, her fingernails scraping over his skin.

  He pushed himself to his feet next to the bed and pushed his pants and boxers off in one quick move, standing next to the bed. Avery shifted on the bed, rolling to her side as she reached out to touch him.

  She took his shaft in one hand, stroking him in her fist. Moving it up and down in a slow and sensuous movement that made his balls tighten. She skimmed her finger over the tip of his erection when she reached the top and his hips jerked forward.

  She rolled his balls with her fingers and then squeezed them tenderly before she tightened her grip on his shaft. He jerked his hips forward and started to thrust in her hand. She leaned forward and he felt her breath on his erection a minute before her tongue traced the tip of him.

  Sensation shivered up and down his spine and he canted his hips forward, feeling her mouth engulf him. He tried to control himself. He enjoyed a reputation as a bit of a playboy but right now with Avery he felt like this was his first time. His control was slipping and he wanted more than this for their first time together.

  He pulled back; she smiled up at him.

  “Too much for you?” she teased.

  “Yes. I want to be inside you,” he admitted. Reaching for the condom he tore the wrapper off of it and put it on before turning back to her. He took her thighs in his hands, running his finger over her tattoo, and drew her butt to the edge of the bed. Then he put one hand on the mattress beside her hips and lowered his body over hers.

  She put her hand on the back of his neck and lifted herself up to kiss him. He tangled his hand in her hair, displacing the rest of the pins in it. Shifting his hips, he was poised at the entrance of her body.

  He pulled back so that their eyes met and then thrust into her, not stopping until he was fully seated in her body. She felt so damned good. He lowered his head, kissing her deeply, as he allowed her body to adjust to his size, then when her thighs tightened around his hips, he pulled back and started to drive into her again and again.

  She tore her mouth from his, biting at the column of his neck as she arched underneath him. He lowered his head until he caught her nipple and sucked it into his mouth.

  She held his hips as he drove into her and he shifted one hand underneath her to clutch at her buttocks, running his finger along the crease between them as he drove into her.

  He felt that sensation down his spine that signaled he was about to come and reached between their bodies to touch her as he drove into her. He felt her tightening around him, calling out his name as he drove harder into her and his orgasm washed over him.

  He fell on her, careful to support his weight with his arms, and laid his head on her breast as their breathing slowed. “Well if that was a preview of our date night, I have to admit I’m going to get my money’s worth.”

  “I aim to please,” he said.

  She hugged him close to her. “You do that.”

  *

  Joking aside as she lay there listening to his breathing, Avery felt that same sense of panic that always overwhelmed her when she let someone get too close. Logan was her boss; she couldn’t just ghost on him and never see him again.

  But that claustrophobic feeling was coming back and this time it was coming from him. He was a good man. She’d never met a man who cared so much for the people around him He needed a woman who would love him, who could take all those rough edges that he hid from the world and show him that they were okay, but she didn’t know if she could be that woman. If she had the courage to even try. So as he lay sleeping she snuck out of his bed, grabbed her dress and coat and walked home in the icy cold.

  Her house was empty and quiet but it was hers. She was alone, which made her hurt in ways she didn’t want to examine, but the hurt was familiar and it was safe.

  She changed into her pajamas and lay in h
er bed, staring out the window and wishing she were a different woman. One who had learned to love and to connect because there was so much longing inside of her at this moment. Longing laced with regret and fear and she knew she was going to have to face Logan again—hell—probably on Monday, but she needed to figure out herself first.

  Chapter Ten

  She’d called in sick on Monday because the weekend had been long. Sleeping with Logan hadn’t been a part of her plans. Flirt yes. Make him realize that he couldn’t hurt her, sure. But actually follow through on the attraction? It seemed that she wasn’t as immune to his charms as she wanted to be. No.

  She’d screwed up with Rachel too. But how was she supposed to know that Logan’s friend and her friend had been an item in high school? And though Rachel had been nice enough about it, the entire mess just underscored that Avery really wasn’t good at relationships of any kind. She’d been trying to help her friend out and instead had probably given Rachel a reason to never go on a date again.

  She parked her car in the back of the Christmas tree lot and sat there with Amy Grant singing O Come All Ye Faithful and realized she’d lost her faith in herself. It was that email from her mom that had started the downward spiral. Like had she misjudged her folks for too long? Had she been the problem instead of them? Had she misread every moment in her childhood?

  Gah. She opened the door and her boot slipped on an icy patch, no doubt left from the storm on Saturday night. She grabbed on to the open door of her car and wrenched herself upright, but her arm ached and she felt even more cross than before.

  She had that feeling in the pit of her stomach. The one that always triggered reckless behavior and she knew she had to get herself under control. She had a lot of responsibilities in town during December. She’d deliberately signed up to work the Send A Card To The Troops booth.

  “Wow, you’re pretty spry for someone with…what was it the text said? Massive food poisoning.”