A Soldier's Christmas: I'll Be Home for ChristmasPresents Under the TreeIf Only in My Dreams

by Leslie Kelly

  “You look incredible.” He’d wanted the wedding redo to get Arianna thinking romantic thoughts, even though he’d believed the first round of wedding pictures were great.

  He kept a copy of one of them on his phone. They were both smiling like fiends. He’d pulled up that picture a couple hundred times since he’d seen her last.

  So yeah, he’d done the photo thing for her. But he hadn’t anticipated the way it would affect him, too. He’d missed her for months, wanted her for years. Now, he finally had her—if he could keep her. He couldn’t make a mistake.

  “Me?” she scoffed as she jabbed the button for the thirty-eighth floor. “You look ready for your close-up on some Hollywood red carpet. George Clooney never wore a suit so well.”

  The cabin lifted them swiftly and he slid an arm around her waist—pure instinct—to keep her steady. He felt her quick intake of breath and her reaction ratcheted up his own.

  “We can finish the story now,” he reminded her. “Figure out what happens after the champagne toast under the Christmas tree.”

  She thumbed off the screen of her phone and dropped it back into her purse.

  “Maybe we drag the blankets out onto the floor of the living room,” she suggested, walking her fingers up his chest in a suggestive dance.

  The light touch was magnified a hundredfold because of the months they’d spent apart.

  “Do you really think you’ll have the blankets out before I get your clothes off?”

  He felt her shiver and would have said more, but the elevator stopped on the thirtieth floor. He swallowed back the urge to snarl at whoever had halted their progress to her condo, and wasn’t surprised when a couple of obviously intoxicated twentysomethings stood wavering in the hallway when the elevator doors opened. They smelled like a brewery and looked like they’d been dragged through one backward.

  “Dude.” The one guy—wearing a ball cap with a suit jacket and jeans—shook his head in a confused daze. “You going down?”

  Dylan pressed the button to close the doors. “Sorry, man. Going up.”

  “Not fast enough,” Arianna whispered just as the doors closed, giving them privacy again.

  Her dark hair tumbled over her shoulders in a sweep of thick waves even though she’d pinned the front back with pearl combs for the wedding photos. He reached for the combs now and loosened first one, then the other. Her hair was so full it almost obscured her face.

  “I think it’s your turn,” he reminded her. “I just took your clothes off in the ‘what happens under the tree’ game.”

  “You’re assuming you’d catch me long enough to get my clothes off,” she teased, then stepped back to do a little shimmy. “I might decide to show you some of my best showgirl moves first.”

  “You’d put all your dancers to shame.” He gestured her out of the cabin ahead of him when the elevator stopped at her floor, but she grabbed the front of his flight suit with her hands and drew him with her. She walked backward, tugging him forward.

  “I’m not so sure about that, but I’ve learned some tricks over the years that I’ve been watching them.” She reached in her purse and halted. “You still have my keys, right?”

  He was already pulling them out of his pocket. “Affirmative. Nothing’s slowing us down now unless you want it to.”

  “Are you kidding?” She arched up on her toes and kiss-licked a spot just beneath his jaw. “I’ve had a highlight reel of our ‘best of’ moments going through my head for four months. I wouldn’t mind recreating a few of those as thoroughly as we redid the photos.”

  Heat blasted over his skin as he realized she’d savored every minute of that night, too. He hadn’t had as much to drink as she might believe, considering they’d gotten married on impulse. So he’d been fully cognizant of every second of their wedding night. Had she been as clearheaded as him? He’d thought it often enough that night. Wanted to believe it now since it would mean she’d gone into that wedding chapel with more than just a tequila buzz driving her vows.

  “I remember that night perfectly.” He wanted her to know that ceremony hadn’t been an accident. Definitely hadn’t been a mistake.

  She took the keys from him with hands that trembled a little. He breathed in the scent of her perfume mingled with the fragrance of her shampoo. He wanted her so badly his teeth ached. Honest to God, ached from it.

  “Me, too,” she admitted softly while she turned the key in the lock, not looking at him.

  The confession blew him away.

  Part of him wanted to stop this sizzling heat between them long enough to discuss the implications of what they’d just said. But it was past the time for talking. After so long without her, he’d told her the truth when he’d said he couldn’t stop for anything unless she put the brakes on this.

  He’d been hanging on to his control by a thread all through those damn photos.

  As she pushed open the door, he took the weight of it from her and held it for her. When they were both inside the cinnamon-scented condo, he bolted the lock.

  “I’d better get that champagne now if we have any hope of a toast tonight.” She let her purse slide off her shoulder and tossed her cape on a bar stool.

  Or at least she tried to toss it aside. She was shaking and breathing hard, so her throw missed the chair and the light wrap slid to the floor.

  “Maybe I’ll unzip your skirt with my teeth before you make it to the fridge.”

  She froze in midmotion, her body moving toward the refrigerator and then—stopping. She halted awkwardly, her arm already raised toward the stainless-steel double doors on the kitchen appliance.

  In a heartbeat, he was in front of her, breathing her air as she exhaled a shaky puff.

  “Not sure I can top that one,” she confessed, her voice a thready whisper.

  His pulse thrummed harder. Hotter. Until all he could think about was being inside her.

  “That’s perfect, because I’m done playing games.”

  5

  HIS LIPS MET HERS and not a moment too soon.

  Arianna had been dying for the feel of his lips on hers ever since the dizzying preview he’d given her back at the wedding chapel. Now, she received the kiss with as much finesse as a dieting woman scarfing a forbidden bit of chocolate.

  Her arms went around his neck, pulling him closer, while his hands molded her hips to his, as if they could somehow consummate this thing without getting their clothes off.

  “My God, I’ve missed you.” He spoke the words into her skin as he kissed his way along her cheek and down into the sensitive hollow of her neck. The sound vibrated along her nerve endings and made her shiver with want.

  “I’ve missed you, too.” She combed her hands along his shoulders and down his chest to the zipper of his flight suit. She raked it south to expose his T-shirt. The skin-warmed cotton was sexier than silk sheets.

  But his urgency turned her on like nothing else.

  His hands found the buttons for her lace blouse and twisted them until he’d unfastened each one. Her necklace fell in a heavy skid of beads down the front of her, landing on the kitchen tiles. He walked her backward, skimming the sheer blouse off her shoulders and sliding his hands over her silk camisole, tugging down the straps so he could nip his way along her collarbone.

  Sensations chased through her, one after the other, until her body all but vibrated with alternating shivers and flashes of heat. She arched and wriggled, helping him with her clothes until she wore nothing but a sheer, white bra and her red skirt. They had kissed and undressed their way to the living room, with Dylan losing only his shoes. His half-discarded flight suit clung to narrow hips and a damn fine butt.

  He edged away to look at her, his gaze roaming the curve of small breasts that didn’t require much support. They weren’t showy, but Dylan didn�
�t seem to mind, plus the delicate size allowed her to wear extravagant Italian lingerie without concern for function.

  “You like?” She teased, nudging one strap down her arm to start the slow slide of see-through lace down her left breast.

  Dylan’s feral growl rumbled through her a second before he latched on to one tight peak, drawing hard on the taut nipple until her knees turned to liquid.

  She fell into him, supporting herself by locking onto his broad biceps. Pleasure smoked through her at the feel of him against her. He was hard everywhere and she wanted nothing more than to mold herself to fit.

  “I need to undress you.” She tugged ineffectually at the flight suit, her attention distracted by the ribbons of desire spiraling out from where his mouth fixed on her breast.

  It had been so long. Way too freaking long.

  “Amen to that.” He worked the front clasp of her bra and freed her from the skimpy lace, making it easy for her to shed it.

  She reached for the waistband of her skirt, ready to ditch that, too, but he lightly restrained her hands.

  “Let me.” His eyes were fixed on her body for a long moment before they lifted to meet her gaze. “Okay?”

  She nodded jerkily, fine with anything he wanted to do as long as he did it soon. Her heart raced so fast she was lightheaded. Her extremities tingled. Her lips trembled.

  He shucked his flight suit and raked his T-shirt up and over his shoulders, all while studying her body like a puzzle that required solving. Seriously? She already had a very good idea what to do with all the he-man action tenting his boxers.

  “Don’t overanalyze this,” she warned. “Anything you do, I’m going to really like.”

  “It doesn’t hurt to maximize your potential for pleasure.” A flash of teeth was all she got for a smile. “Would you mind turning around?”

  Her mouth went dry.

  She turned, her stocking feet pivoting easily on the stretch of Persian carpet near the sofa. Her hair shifted against her skin, the feel of the strands a silky tease for the touches she really craved.

  Then his hands were bracketing her hips, holding her steady. His body brushed hers as he came up behind her, the hard length of his erection nudging her. She swayed forward until her hands found the back of the sectional, her fingers digging into the supple leather.

  He swept aside her long hair with his fingers. Bent over her so that his lips grazed the back of her neck near the curve of her shoulder. Moisture pooled between her thighs. Her nipples beaded to painful tightness. Every part of her wanted his touch. His kiss.

  She closed her eyes and focused on the sensations, losing herself in the feel of his lips gliding down her spine. She arched into him, seeking a firmer touch, but he grazed one light nip after another in a path along her vertebrae that led to her skirt.

  And found the zipper with his teeth.

  She remembered his promise of what he’d do to her, his sensual threat to undress her this way. She was so keyed up that it seemed as if every hitch of the zipper teeth parting stoked her higher. The warmth of Dylan’s breath heated her skin as he parted the wool fabric. Revealed the barest hint of white thong that she’d worn precisely because she’d known she would be seeing him tonight.

  When he reached the base of the zipper, he paused. Cinched the fabric down her hips with his hands until the skirt slid to the floor.

  She waited, breathing in the cinnamon-scented air, all her senses heightened. Ready.

  Then, rising to his feet, he bent over her, his chest pressed to her back, his hand coming around to palm the heat between her legs. She nearly flew apart. Would have done just that if he’d moved his fingers against her at all. But he just cupped the damp heat of her panties, pinning her body to his so she could feel every inch of his erection along her bottom. Waiting for her.

  “Please,” she murmured.

  “I’m going to make you come first.” He spoke directly into her ear, right at the same moment he moved his fingers in a circle around her sex.

  She cried out, the sensations sending a lightning bolt through her veins. She teetered on the precipice...so deliciously close she wasn’t sure she wanted to tip the rest of the way over. Yet she couldn’t stop herself.

  “I’m so close. So, so—”

  He slid aside the thong and touched her, homing in on the slick heat until the sensations overwhelmed her. She came hard, crumpling in his arms and reaching mindlessly over her shoulder to touch him, any part of him. She found his stubbled jaw with her palm and rested her hand there while wave after wave of lush pleasure undulated over her body.

  Faint aftershocks continued to rock her while Dylan shifted their few remaining clothes and—she could tell by his movements—rolled on a condom. He entered her inch by slow, amazing inch. Lights flashed behind her eyes, her body still in the grip of incredible release. Now, her feminine muscles pulsed around him lightly. Intermittently.

  Yet she could tell he felt it by the way he stopped each time, his whole body tensing. She tried to be patient, to wait for him since she knew he wanted to make this last. But it had been forever since they’d been together and her body seemed to have a will independent of her brain....

  “Wait.” He must have read her mind since he caught her hips with his hands before she could dictate the pace.

  She straightened so that she stood close to him, his chest hot against her back.

  “I can’t. The feel of this...” She couldn’t describe it. “I can’t wait.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. Not anytime soon.”

  But he would eventually. The clarification made a warning light go off—albeit very quietly—in the back of her mind. Dylan wasn’t going to stay with her forever, no matter what the vows said. His job would have him on the other side of the world. And she worked on Christmas. All the reasons they hadn’t gotten together as teenagers still applied.

  “Arianna.” His voice softened with a note she’d never heard before, a gentle coaxing that felt unique to her name. “Stay with me.”

  How had he sensed that she’d let her fears creep in?

  “Don’t read my mind,” she warned him, sighing with greedy satisfaction as he pushed fully inside her.

  He chuckled as he kissed his way down her neck and over her bare shoulder, brushing aside her hair and giving her goose bumps from his light touches.

  “I’m going to take you to bed now.” He spoke against her skin, the words a gentle vibration along her flesh.

  Her heart caught at the idea of them together...in her bed. She’d never sleep in it again without thinking of him. Then again, she’d never see this couch the same way now that she’d sprawled over the back of it to accommodate him....

  It was a surprise when he withdrew from her, even though she’d had a warning. He draped a chenille throw blanket around her shoulders and tucked her close to his side, leading her unerringly to the bedroom even though he’d never been in it before. A strand of red and white Christmas lights adorned the huge wooden headboard of the sleigh bed, a frivolous touch in a room that hadn’t otherwise been decorated except for a few bird ornaments on the windowsill.

  The rising sun hadn’t penetrated the plantation shutters on the smaller windows, at least, not yet.

  He tugged back the covers to reveal simple white sheets, the quiet intimacy of the act making her feel...bound to him. By him.

  It wasn’t all together unpleasant.

  He began kissing her then and she forgot to worry about what was happening between them. She just let it happen. He kissed her senseless, laid her on the bed and stretched out over her. Nudging her thighs wide, he made room for himself there. This time, when he came inside her, his gray eyes were locked on hers.

  What did this perceptive man see when he looked at her?

  Taking the coward’s way out,
she closed her eyes and locked her legs around his hips. She knew what she wanted. Knew what they both needed.

  For now, it would be enough.

  Dylan propped himself over her with his arms, taking his own weight while she moved against him. The spicy male musk of his skin enticed her to put her nose to his jaw and take a taste.

  More memories of the last time they’d been together. The ways she’d let go of her inhibitions and just...felt. Maybe Dylan remembered that, too, because the guttural noise he made rumbled right through her. She blinked her eyes open to find him pinning her with eyes the shade of molten steel.

  She couldn’t look away.

  Wrapping her arms around his neck, she held on tight as he found a rhythm that drove them both to the edge. The thrust of his hips called forth gasps of pleasure from her lips, her breath coming in thick pants.

  Beads of sweat broke out along his forehead as he held back and held back. He touched her sex with his fingers, nipped her earlobe, whispered sweet things about how much she turned him on....

  Then, another orgasm washed through her, the squeeze and thrum of it so strong she’d never guess she’d had one only minutes before. She clung to Dylan, locking onto him in every way possible, her port in a storm of sensations unlike anything she’d ever weathered.

  The man turned her inside out.

  When his release came, his whole body tensed and tightened, the force of it making her toes curl and her feminine instincts hum with happiness. She kissed him mindlessly wherever she could reach. His neck. Jaw. Shoulder.

  Joyful endorphins circled her like the robins that tweeted around characters in old cartoons. Yes. She felt that silly-happy.

  Long moments passed as he collapsed beside her and she hung on to those feelings with both hands. She wanted to bask in their amazing chemistry. In the total sense of physical completion.