Slowly he inserted the head of his cock, sighing at the tight warmth. He bit his lip, trying to go slow, wanting to savor every inch of pleasure. Emma had other ideas. She clamped her thighs around his hips and lifted her ass, taking him all the way inside her.
“Yes...” She sighed.
He started moving again, so slow it almost hurt.
“No, no,” she said, smacking his ass. “Harder, please.”
Smiling, he tossed his intentions aside and gave her what she wanted. Several minutes later he found his own release.
Their breaths and cries of pleasure twisted together in the oldest song known to man.
And it was so good.
8
THE LIGHT OF morning had not brought regrets. On the contrary, it had brought more of the fantasy Emma had wrapped herself in. She wasn’t tugging it off until she had to.
She lay twined in Erik’s arms, totally sated. “That was nice.”
“Nice? Don’t you mean spectacular?”
She gave him a little pinch. “You think highly of your abilities, don’t you?”
He looked at her and crooked an eyebrow, making her laugh.
“Okay, okay, I can honestly say it was spectacular,” she said, giving him a kiss.
Just as she was breaking the kiss, the front door slammed open, breaking the chair, sending it careening across the worn floor.
She screamed, clutching the covers to her. Erik jumped out of bed and grabbed the lamp he’d set beside the trunk, raising it like a weapon. At first she thought the wind had gusted hard enough to once again blow the door open. But then she saw the man...and the gun.
“Get your hands up,” the intruder yelled, stepping into the cabin holding a shotgun.
She didn’t want to put her hands up. If she did, her boobs would be out there for all to see. Tucking the covers under her arms, she pressed her upper arms to her sides and held up her hands. Erik dropped the lamp and the ceramic base shattered on the floor.
A large man wearing a brown cowboy hat and a fluffy khaki ski jacket with a star attached strolled in. Removing his mirrored glasses, he made a face. “Just what in the hell is going on here? You know you’re trespassing, don’t you?”
Erik kept his hands up. “We had an accident up on the highway yesterday and we couldn’t find help.”
“So you broke into my cabin?” an older man asked, stepping forward.
“Well, our car was dead and neither of our cell phones worked,” Erik said, gingerly lowering his arms while eyeing the shotgun still pointed at them. “We stayed on the highway for a long time, but no one came. We saw the reflective marker on the highway and found this place.”
“We’ll pay for repairs to the door,” Emma added, sliding her eyes to the shattered lamp. “And the lamp.”
The deputy turned to the older man, who had a bristly mustache and wore hunting coveralls. “You gonna press charges, Walt?”
Walt looked at Erik and then looked at her. A knowing gleam appeared in his eyes. “Ah, hell. I can’t press charges against people taking shelter from the storm. Gave us nearly a foot last night. Besides it’s Christmas and all.”
“Thank you,” Emma said, looking over to Erik, who looked like a man with his hand caught in a cookie jar. Yeah, her cookie jar.
“We would appreciate that, sir,” he said finally.
“Ah, hell, this place ain’t been used in years,” Walt said, stepping in and closing the door. “No electricity or anything. If you’d have come a quarter mile more, you would have hit my spread. This here was my groundskeeper’s place back when I needed someone. Sold most my land but kept this old cabin. My boys always liked to have friends over to play cards, drink hooch and blow up stuff. So don’t worry about the lamp. No loss there.”
The deputy looked around and then resettled his gaze on them. “Why don’t we let these two get decent and then I’ll run them up to your house so they can call a tow truck.”
Walt nodded. “Yeah, come on up to the house and I’ll get you some coffee and a proper breakfast. Maria made enough muffins for Cox’s army. I’ll wait outside.”
The deputy followed Walt out, closing the broken door.
Her heart raced and she felt sweaty despite the new chill in the air.
“You okay?” Erik asked, reaching for his jeans and pulling them on. The tender teasing was gone, replaced by something she couldn’t put her finger on. Probably that whole light-of-day thing. Or the sober realization they’d stepped over a line they couldn’t backtrack over. Or maybe it was just having a shotgun trained on him.
“I’m fine,” she said, suddenly feeling shy about her nudity. Minutes before, she’d been crying his name, shattering in his arms. But now it felt sordid. She’d seen the look in those men’s eyes. They knew what had gone down in the cabin last night. And it damn sure wasn’t completing a puzzle.
“At least we don’t have to go up to the highway and look for help. It came to us.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, reaching for the pajama top she’d shed earlier. She didn’t want to bare her breasts. Silly, of course, but she felt so vulnerable. In the blink of an eye, Erik had gone from tender lover to a man ready to stride back into his regular world. “Guess I better go get my things out of the bathroom.”
“The water in the pot should be warm enough to wash up a bit. I’ll put it in the bathroom,” he said, tugging on the sweater he’d left by the fire before lifting the pot.
Emma couldn’t help it. She blushed. If anyone needed cleaning up, it was her. They’d had sex three—or was it four?—times. She needed a good long soak, but lukewarm water dipped from a pot would have to do.
She scrambled from the bed and five minutes later emerged from the bathroom with her hair braided, face scrubbed clean and lip gloss firmly in place. She pulled on her ruined boots and shrugged into her wool coat. “I’m ready.”
Erik had donned his coat and scarf and had moved everything back into its original order. He’d bundled the sheets into a ball, which he carried out with them. Walt and the deputy sat in a cruiser emblazoned with the Douglas County Sheriff’s Office on the side. Erik held the back door for her and then set her suitcase between them, holding sheets that were the last reminder of their wild winter night.
“I brought the sheets. Figured they’d need to be washed,” Erik said to Walt.
“Sure. My housekeeper, Maria, will wash them and I’ll run them back later. Probably should clean that place up a little anyway. Maybe stick some rations in there in case another couple gets stranded again. Probably would have been nice to have some food.”
“We survived on wine and chocolate-chip cookies,” Erik said.
“Don’t sound bad at all,” the deputy said, backing around and turning toward the highway. “You folks were lucky to find shelter. A man died last year in the same situation. He stayed in his wrecked car and died of carbon monoxide poisoning. The snow clogged the tailpipe.”
Fifteen minutes later, Emma was seated in the kitchen of Walt’s enormous house, sipping a cup of coffee and trying not to wolf down the fluffy blueberry muffins Maria had set in front of her and Erik. Christmas music played in the kitchen and a pretty flocked tree glittered in the living area opened to the kitchen. Quite the opposite of the dusty cold cabin they’d abandoned moments ago.
Still, Emma longed for the cabin and the sweet love that had bloomed there if only for a night. Nothing seemed to remain of what they’d shared. Erik had withdrawn, passing over the sheets and blankets to Maria, erasing any evidence of their lovemaking. Or maybe she read too much into how easily he went back to normal. She didn’t feel normal. More like confused and scared of all the feelings she’d unearthed for Erik.
He glanced at her. “You okay? You’re awfully quiet.”
“Sure.” What else could she say? Tha
t she already mourned the loss of him. That her heart already felt wounded. Maybe actually broken. But that was crazy, right?
“I called a tow-truck company and they’re supposed to get back to me on when they can make it down here. Deputy Shane said he’d write out a report. Here’s his card for when you call your insurance company.” He handed her the card.
“Thank you. I called my parents while you were on the phone. They flipped out but they’re glad I’m safe.”
“More muffins?” Maria interrupted with a gap-toothed smile. She filled Erik’s mug and arched a brow.
“You bet,” he said with a nod of thanks. “Good as my grandmother’s and that’s saying something.”
Maria giggled and waddled back to the stove.
“I don’t think Alexis ever got your text,” Erik said, munching on the muffin Maria brought over. “I tried calling but her phone is off.”
Walt toddled in. “Bad news. Roads aren’t passable yet. Called the sheriff and he said he’d call the county to send the snowplows out. You’re probably going to have to stay here tonight. Got plenty of room and we’re stocked, right, Maria?”
“Sí, Señor Grider, and I’m preparing a wonderful dinner tonight for your guests,” she said.
“We don’t want to be a bother,” Emma said, feeling disappointed though she knew she should be grateful they were warm and safe.
“You no bother,” Maria said, swatting a hand at them. “Señor Grider loves having company. And his boys are not coming till Tuesday, sí?”
Walt nodded.
Erik looked at her. “At least we’ll have hot water.”
“And something more than cookies and chocolate for dinner.”
“Yeah, but I liked having dessert first,” Erik said.
* * *
ERIK STEPPED FROM the shower, drying the rivulets streaming down his face. He glanced at himself in the mirror and noted his beard had gotten way too thick. He looked like a wild mountain man and, after the night he’d spent with Emma, he felt like one.
She’d asked for her own room and that told him all he needed to know.
Maybe she’d just needed some space.
But the way she’d looked at him, the way she’d shut down, worried him. He’d tried to tease her with the whole dessert-first thing. That’s how he felt about them. As though maybe they’d had dessert first when they’d indulged in each other at the cabin, but he hoped they could use their lovemaking as a starting point for something more.
Wrapping the plush towel around himself, he walked into the bedroom. Folded neatly on the bed was a pair of jeans and Henley shirt. A new package of boxers and a neatly folded pair of socks sat on the end of the bed, convincing him Walt likely had sons the same size. In the bathroom, he found enough toiletries to make himself presentable. Glancing at his watch, he saw it was only ten o’clock in the morning, but he felt bone weary. Eyeing the bed, he wondered if he should nap...and then he wondered if he could talk Emma into napping with him.
His cell phone vibrated on the rough-hewn dresser.
“Hey, man, there you are,” Layton said. “Your sister was freaking out because you didn’t call.”
“Well, I took a short cut that didn’t work out so well. I hit a patch of ice, overcorrected and ended up plowing Emma’s car into a tree. We didn’t have cell service and had to take shelter in an abandoned cabin overnight. But we’re good. All our toes and fingers are still intact.” No need to mention exactly how they’d stayed warm.
“All right, that sucks but glad to hear you’re okay. That could’ve ended a lot worse. So you’re going to stay there until the car is repaired?”
“Yeah. Won’t be able to get a tow truck until tomorrow, but both Emma and I are safe and warm. The owner of the cabin is putting us up for the night,” Erik said, oddly glad he still had one night left with Emma...even if she was acting weird. He wasn’t ready to go back to his version of reality. “How’s my sister?”
His friend hesitated. “Alexis’s foot is fine. The swelling went down and we didn’t need to take her to the hospital. I’ve been taking real good care of her.”
“Have you now?”
An uncomfortable silence sat for a few seconds.
“Dude, my sister doesn’t need what you can give her,” Erik said, knowing he overstepped but also knowing his sister and the reputation of his friend with the ladies.
“Don’t worry about Alexis... I’ve got everything under control.” Layton’s voice lowered.
“You’re a good guy, but she’s had it tough these last few months. She doesn’t need any more heartache. She needs stability and to get her life straight again before jumping into something.”
No doubt Layton and Alexis had some little flirtation. His sister could use the ego boost after her last boyfriend had gutted her self-confidence. Which was hard to believe when it came to a woman like his sister.
“Hey, bud, I do appreciate your looking out for Alexis while she is banged up. I wasn’t trying to disparage your character. You’re a good guy. I’m just a big brother concerned about his sister.”
“We’ll talk more when you get home,” Layton said. “Drive safe.”
Erik hung up and sank onto the bed. The whole Alexis-Layton thing bothered him. But to a degree, his friend was right. There was only so much he could do. His sister had to live her own life, and he had to live his.
Thing was, he wanted to live his life seeing his sister’s best friend.
Emma Rose had knocked him for a loop. Never could he have imagined how incredible the woman behind the image he’d painted in his mind could be. He’d loved being with her, loved her teasing, the way she launched herself into any task, the way she listened to him, respected him...loved him.
Okay, he couldn’t be so presumptuous, but damned if there wasn’t something strong...and magical between them.
Weird to think of it as some fated thing, but that’s what it felt like. It was as if everything that had happened was preordained, designed for him in the stars. He’d never been the kind of guy to need a relationship, but something about Emma made him want more. Maybe he was going bonkers. But he didn’t think so. Because beneath his tough-guy exterior beat a heart longing for something more...and he was almost certain that Emma was part of it.
But she’d withdrawn from him both physically and mentally.
How could he reach her and show her he wanted more?
9
EMMA FINISHED DRYING her hair and slipped into the dress and tights she’d planned to wear to her parents’ party last night. It was a bit fancy for dinner at Walt’s house, but she didn’t have anything beyond a long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans. The clothes she’d worn yesterday held too many memories for her to handle...along with the fact she’d torn a hole in the knee of her leggings.
After gulping down the coffee and muffins, she’d requested a room and had been so exhausted she’d conked out on the bed without even taking off her boots. She’d slept for four hours, waking stiff and sore from her adventure, both inside and outside the cabin. Groggy, she’d run a bath and lay in the bubbles for another half hour. After washing her hair and scrubbing her body with a lovely lavender herbal soap, she felt almost human again.
At least on the outside.
Inside, her mind kept tripping back to Erik’s reaction to their being discovered. He’d been so unaffected...so normal.
Like nothing had happened.
And that hurt.
Last night she’d implied she could handle whatever happened between them, but she couldn’t. Wasn’t as if she’d lied—she wanted to be the girl who could sleep with a guy without dreaming about their babies. She admired modern women who could love ʼem and leave ʼem, but she wasn’t wired that way. Never had been. And even if she was, her problem was she’d already been half in
love with Erik before she’d slept with him.
So where did that leave her?
She’d sensed Erik’s surprise when she requested her own room, but she didn’t feel comfortable sleeping with him at the moment. Not when they were back in the real world. And Walt arching a questioning look at them at her request only made her feel worse. He didn’t know they weren’t a real-life couple. So why not continue the facade for another night?
Didn’t she want to spend more time wrapped in Erik’s arms?
Shaking her head, answers escaping her, she swiped on her lip gloss and opened the door. Walt’s house was like none she’d ever seen. The rancher obviously took great pride in his Colorado mansion, sprawling against the evergreen landscape. A small creek ran through the vaulted foyer built of solid stone. Everything was wrought by a master craftsman and the effect was stunning. She found Erik and Walt in the vast great room. A fire roared in the massive stone fireplace, a huge Christmas tree glittered and the two men looked relaxed, sipping liquor out of highball glasses.
Walt stood. “Well, now, don’t you look pretty as a tulip.”
“Thank you,” Emma said, ducking her head, before remembering she wasn’t supposed to be the old Emma. Lifting her chin, she smiled. “How are you gentlemen this afternoon?”
“Well, thank you,” Walt said, extending a hand toward the built-in bar. “Pick your poison, madam.”
Erik rose and met her at the bar. “I’ll fix you something.”
“I can do it myself.”
“Well, hell, since you’re over there, Matheson, fix me another double. Maria will bring in some hors d’oeuvres in a few,” said Walt, clearly oblivious to the tension.
Erik touched her hand, making her stomach tremble nervously. She wanted to let go of her fears, but the uncertainty between them kept her guarded.
“You okay?” he asked.
“You keep asking me that,” she said, grabbing a glass and pouring a measure of what looked to be small-batch bourbon. She wasn’t much of a bourbon drinker but she needed something to calm her. “I’m fine.”
A Wrong Bed Christmas: IgnitedWhere There's Smoke Page 16
