It Must Be Christmas

Home > Romance > It Must Be Christmas > Page 19
It Must Be Christmas Page 19

by Jennifer Crusie


  “Wow.” His grin slipped sideways, teasing her. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

  “Likewise,” she answered, and this time he pushed her back into the comforter and she got to feel the heat of his skin pressed against hers. She was pretty sure it was the most erotic feeling on earth, this skin-to-skin thing.

  He reached behind her and undid the clasp of her bra with one hand, then pulled it down her arms and dropped it on the floor. “It’s pretty,” he murmured. “But not as pretty as this.” He cupped a breast in his hand and then let his mouth follow.

  She was going to die, she was sure of it. But if this is what it felt like, she was totally okay with it. When he licked her nipple, a moan slid from her throat.

  After that everything seemed to speed up. Hands hurried, stripping off the last of the clothing, scattering it on the floor until they were both naked on the bed. His hands and mouth seemed to be everywhere, igniting her senses until her whole body was on fire. Charlie reached out and took him in her fingers and he groaned. “We need to slow down,” he said, his breath hot in her ear. “Or I swear to God it’s going to be over before it gets started.”

  She giggled with the sheer elation of pure feminine power.

  He reached for the condom. “You’re prepared.” Her heart hammered against her ribs. This was where all the foreplay was leading. To him. Inside her. She didn’t want to wait. She wanted to grab the packet, rip the foil, and get on with it. Never in her life had she felt this pounding need for fulfillment.

  “After what happened at your place … I wasn’t going to take any chances. I knew this day was coming.”

  She watched, intrigued, as he took care of putting it on. Then all she could do was lose herself in the overwhelming sensations of being completely and thoroughly pleasured by a lover, once, twice, and a third time that left her so weak and sated she could barely move. Then, and only then, did he release the hold on his control, growling her name as he pushed her up the bed until she felt the headboard against her skull.

  Moments later, the harsh sounds of their breathing began to temper and the sweat on their bodies cooled. Charlie lay on her side, looking over at him, marveling that they’d just done everything they’d done.

  There’d been no choice to make once he’d touched her. She’d been incapable of stopping. They had simply lost themselves in each other. He’d possessed every square inch of her body and now she felt gloriously limp in the afterglow.

  Then she heard it … a low, satisfied chuckle that reached in and warmed her from the inside out.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked, unable to keep the smile from her face.

  “Nothing’s funny.” He rolled over to his side and opened his eyes. “That was just … spectacular.” He grinned at her. “Who knew you were so bendy, Chuckles?”

  She should take him to task for calling her Chuckles right now. And she would, except … well, she liked it. From him, anyway. “I’ve done a lot of yoga.”

  “I hear it’s supposed to be good for stress.”

  If he only knew.

  She raised an eyebrow. “Anytime you want to try. Naked yoga is liberating.” His eyes widened and she laughed as she teased him. “Nothing like getting in touch with your spirituality when it’s just you and the mat.”

  “Eeeew.”

  Her lips twitched.

  “You’re teasing.”

  “I am.”

  He reached over and grazed his fingers over her hip. “I like it.”

  She did too. He was the most comfortable-in-his-own-skin man she’d ever met. It was more than the boneless bliss she was feeling after a thorough lovemaking. It was a freedom, a lightness that she suspected came from living in the moment rather than from an agenda.

  She shivered and Dave reached toward the bottom of the bed, pulling up a blanket to cover them. Then he lay on his back and opened his arms wide. “Come here,” he said quietly. “We can huddle up to keep warm.”

  She was still naked. She suspected she should be feeling if not bashful, at least a little self-conscious. But she wasn’t. She slid over next to him and rested her head along the curve of his shoulder, draped one arm over his ribs, and lifted her knee, settling it along the length of his leg.

  “God, you’re a cuddler,” he murmured, squeezing her close.

  She never used to be.

  “Is that okay?”

  “Yeah.” There was this texture to his voice that she would never tire of. A bit deep, a bit husky, 100 percent masculine and sexy. She closed her eyes and let out a breath.

  “You know, I’m kind of sorry I stopped things that first morning. If I’d known this was waiting for me…”

  He chuckled and the vibration rippled through her. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “You should.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  Her hand ran up his back and encountered smooth scar tissue. It reminded her of what he’d been through … the parts she knew about and the parts she didn’t. She traced her finger along its path. “What is this from?”

  He shrugged. “Oh, one of my many badges of honor. No big deal.”

  “It doesn’t hurt?”

  “Not anymore.” Then he smiled wickedly. “Wait. If I said it did, would you kiss it better?”

  She swatted his shoulder.

  “You want to talk about it?”

  “I’ve just had mind-blowing sex and a gorgeous woman is naked in my arms. What do you think?”

  She smiled in the darkness. “Obvious distraction, but I still have to ask. You think I’m gorgeous?”

  “Are you kidding?” His wide palm curved over her hip. “Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

  She relaxed further, sinking into his embrace, twining her legs with his and running her toes up one of his calves. “Hey, Dave?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I needed that.” After she said it she realized it was a bit ambiguous. She could have been talking about the sex or the compliment. Truthfully, she thought she rather needed them both.

  He kissed her forehead. “I know.”

  She wasn’t quite sure what he meant, but she was too mellow to ask. He felt so good. Warm and strong. The blanket was soft on her skin and he’d turned off the light, so the room was gray and dim. The woodstove in the next room had been stoked and the heat of it made her feel lazy. She was going to doze off and she was completely okay with it.

  She curled into his embrace. “It’s so warm and toasty in here. I never realized how great wood heat was. So much nicer than a furnace or radiator.”

  He nodded against her hair. “A stove can really crank it out. Plus, if the power goes out, I can stay warm. Cook. It’s a bit rudimentary, but convenient.”

  She imagined being snowbound here with him and the idea held some merit. The stove meant he had to split wood, she thought. She took a moment to appreciate the image in her mind of him with an axe, his muscles bulging and shifting as he split logs. When had she started going for the physical labor kind of guy?

  She snuggled in closer. She supposed that happened when she’d first seen him on the docks in the fall, all work boots and broad shoulders and a ball cap.

  “Charlie?” His voice was soft in her ear, sending ripples of pleasure down her spine.

  “Mmm?” She answered lazily.

  “Stay a while?”

  She turned in his arms so she could look up at him. His hair, just a touch on the shaggy side, was ruffled and mussed, and his jaw held a hint of stubble after the long day. He was so attractive. So … virile.

  “I wish I could. But Daniel’s staying with Josh’s mom and I should get back soon.”

  “Right. Damn.” His fingers slid along the soft skin of her arm. “Maybe just a little while longer?”

  “A little while,” she agreed.

  She hadn’t realized he was tense until his shoulders relaxed. “Cool.” His fingers ran up and down her arm, an absentminded gesture that Charlie reveled in.


  Good heavens, what would her mother say? Her mom had always pushed her to “guard her sexuality like a priceless treasure.” Charlie rolled her eyes. Mother probably expected Charlie to have remained a virgin too. She sobered. Well, it had been long enough that she wondered if she could reclaim virgin status. Up until tonight, that is.

  Dave’s fingers traced a slow, gentle line up the outside of her arm and she gave in, letting out one last deep breath before sliding into sleep.

  Chapter Eleven

  Her breathing was deep and even.

  Her skin was soft, and a scent like vanilla and flowers filled his nostrils: soft and light and mingled with the scent of sex.

  He hadn’t expected it to be so … consuming. So possessive. But from the moment he’d put her on the bed and stripped her of her jeans, something had clicked. A proprietary sense that said Mine.

  He’d never been a dominating man and it wasn’t like that now either. But there’d been a crushing need to possess her and, conversely, to be possessed. To know that he was capable of bringing her to ecstasy over and over again and to hear his name on her lips as she shuddered around him. And then … not to take her but to lose himself inside her.

  And that scared the shit out of him. Big time. Despite the spontaneity of the moment, being with her hadn’t been thoughtless or fun or careless. It had been fast and sometimes rough and other times inspired, but he’d made sure to protect her and when their eyes had met as he climaxed, something had shifted painfully inside him. A connection he hadn’t been prepared for. If he wasn’t careful, he might fall in love with her.

  A delicate snuffle came from beside him. She was really and truly asleep in his arms and it filled him with a sweetness he’d forgotten existed. There was trust in making love, but it was fueled by desire and lust and need. The real trust was now, afterward. And clearly Charlie trusted him.

  The idea made him panic just a little bit. He hadn’t planned on staying in Jewell Cove. His dad had hooked him up with the job at George’s, something to keep him going until he found a permanent situation. Except, he admitted to himself, he hadn’t been looking for a different situation. Charlie made staying seem … possible. Perfect, maybe.

  Charlie wasn’t the kind of woman a man fooled around with. He’d understood that from the start. So he either had to break it off with her and let her go, or really be involved. They’d been fooling themselves, thinking they could keep things casual.

  But being open to the possibility of “them” meant opening himself up to the chance of loving … or being hurt. Or worse—hurting her. Because deep down he knew they were two very different people. She loved plans and charts and lists, and he knew life involved a certain measure of improvisation. She had a day planner and he went with the flow. Wouldn’t they end up driving each other crazy?

  Her arm tightened and his eyes slammed closed, loving the feel of her wrapped around him so damn much it scared him. He’d forgotten what it was like to be the center of someone’s world, even for five minutes.

  She was the center of his too. At least for a little while. So he left his eyes closed and let his muscles relax, shifting a little so they were entwined together. He’d wake her soon, but not yet. He wanted to hold on to the perfection of this moment as long as he could. Then he’d do what he had to do.

  * * *

  Charlie woke slowly, then lifted her arms and executed a long, limber stretch. She couldn’t remember a time when she felt this relaxed. The soft fleece blanket slid over her skin and she realized she was still naked.

  Her cheeks heated and her stomach did a little flip. Oh my. They’d done it. Charlie, who planned everything, who examined every angle of a situation before making a decision, had taken a huge leap and had sex with Dave Ricker.

  It had been amazing. Stupendous.

  And she was alone in the bed.

  She crawled out from beneath the blankets and shivered in the cool air. Draped over a chair was a flannel shirt, and she picked it up and put her arms in the big sleeves, buttoning it up the front. It was huge. The cuffs came down over her hands and the tails covered her to mid-thigh. Charlie lifted a handful of the fabric and drew a long breath, her head filling with the masculine scent of him. As an afterthought, she snagged her panties from the floor and stepped into them. Barefoot, she left the bedroom and went in search of him.

  He was in the kitchen. Dressed in plaid pajama pants and a T-shirt, he looked both adorably cuddly and casually sexy. He was whisking something in a pan on the stove, and there was a hint of chocolate in the air.

  “That smells good,” she said softly, and he spun around.

  “You sure are quiet,” he said, smiling at her. “I didn’t hear you get up.”

  She went forward to see what he was concocting. “Oooh, hot cocoa. Yum.”

  “Made with real milk, none of that powdered stuff.” He smiled at her but she got the slippery feeling that something was wrong. He was too nice. Too polite. “I was going to wake you soon. It’s nearly ten. I thought some hot cocoa before you had to relieve your sitter.”

  “At least it’s a bit warmer out here,” she said, wrapping her arms around her middle.

  “I brought in some wood for the fire too.” His gaze dropped to her improvised nightshirt. “Nice,” he added.

  Not that she’d say it out loud, but she’d watched lots of movies where the confident, sexy woman wore her lover’s shirt after sex, and wondered what it would be like to be that girl. It felt fantastic, if she were being honest. Who knew she could be that woman, anyway? It’s not like she had a history of hookups, and men certainly hadn’t been beating down her door. She suspected, however, if she said anything of the sort she’d sound silly and awkward, so she met his gaze evenly. “You don’t mind?”

  “Of course not.”

  But there was no innuendo, no shared intimate look or smile. Unless she was totally off base, Dave was backing off. Big time. Why? Maybe tonight hadn’t been as good for him as it had been for her …

  “Dave, did I do something wrong?”

  He spared her a glance. “Of course not.” It seemed to be his stock answer. His gaze slipped back to the pan and he grabbed a ladle. “Hand me a mug, will you?”

  Mechanically she took a cup from the cupboard and handed it to him. He poured the rich cocoa into the mug and handed it to her, then repeated the process with his own cup.

  She perched on a chair at the table, unsettled, and sipped. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  She knew whatever he was about to say was a lie because his face took on an expression of innocent denial. “Nothing. Why would something be wrong?”

  “Because you’re acting strangely. Because I woke up and you weren’t there and you’ve brought in wood and made cocoa. Something’s on your mind, I can tell.”

  He sighed. Stared into his cup. “We can talk about it later. You need to get home soon.”

  Classic avoidance. Charlie tried taking a drink to simply be doing something but the moment it touched her tongue her stomach twisted.

  There were times Charlie deeply resented her upbringing, but today she totally understood what her mother had meant when she said that sex had the power to change everything. In this case, it hadn’t changed in a fairy-tale-come-true way, had it?

  She didn’t trust herself to speak. Thought back to that first moment that they’d met, how unsettled and awkward she’d been. The man before her wasn’t some fantasy guy from the docks anymore. That seemed like another time and place. He was real, flesh and blood, and currently pulling away from her.

  And then she looked across the table at Dave and knew that she couldn’t pretend forever. She was tired of feeling like she always had to please people. That if she was just quiet and went along with everyone else’s plans for her everything would be fine.

  She’d come to Jewell Cove to get away from that. Trouble was, she was still accepting it in her personal relationships and that wasn’t okay.

  “I have a fe
w minutes. If something’s wrong, I want to know.”

  He shifted in his chair. Charlie frowned. Difficult conversations were so not her strength.

  “It’s fine.”

  “No, it’s not. Dave, we made love. You asked me to stay. Now you’re treating me like nothing happened.” Encouraged by the steadiness of her voice, she lifted her chin. “Honestly, I don’t think I did anything wrong. Which means you’re running scared. What I want to know is why.”

  He pushed back his chair and took his mug—his cocoa unfinished—to the counter.

  “Hey,” she said. “Avoidance is my party trick. For God’s sake, Dave, just be honest with me. If you think we made a mistake, just say so.”

  He turned around and met her gaze. “Being with you was great,” he answered, his voice rough. “But yeah, it was probably a mistake. My mistake, Charlie, not yours. I got involved with you when I knew I shouldn’t have.”

  She gave a quiet snort. “That makes two of us.”

  “See? That’s what I mean. We were both pretty honest from the beginning about what we did and didn’t want. Then we ignored it. Convinced ourselves it didn’t matter. I told myself it was nothing serious. That we were just enjoying each other’s company.”

  “Until tonight. Because sex changes things.”

  He nodded slowly. “Yeah, it does. And all the things I’d been ignoring were suddenly there in front of me again. I’m not sure I can be the perfect man for your perfect plan.”

  Her body felt strangely heavy. Perhaps it was the weight of disappointment. She thought it was more likely that it was inevitability, because she knew, deep down, that he was right. She’d always thought so.

  He ran his hand through his hair. “I told you from the beginning that I wasn’t staying in Jewell Cove. That I’m not sure what the future holds. Shit, Charlie. I’ve tried a serious relationship and I’m terrible at it. The idea of marriage…”

  “Who said anything about marriage?” she interrupted, turning in her chair so she was facing him, and crossed her left knee over her right. “Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself?”

 

‹ Prev