A Naughty Little Christmas
Page 7
To ending up naked in front of a fire with Dean Roberts, my entire body turning to lava as he kisses his way from my knee up my thigh. And then from my thigh to the place where thigh becomes something more intimate, to a place so close to where I’m dying for him to touch me that it’s physically painful to wait.
Painful, but incredible…
God, how have I lived without this for so long? Without passion or anticipation or the breathless electricity of being so close to this man who brings my body to life in a way no one else ever has?
“I can’t wait to taste you, Macy.” Dean’s breath is warm between my legs, his hands gentle but insistent as he spreads my thighs wider, making my pulse spike hard and fast. We were so young when we were first together, but I remember every second, every caress, every kiss from the first to the last, and everything in between.
We explored each other like it was our mission on earth, but we never got around to this particular frontier. We were both too inexperienced, too unsure of what was acceptable. He never kissed me the way he’s about to kiss me, and for a moment I’m fifteen again, heart pounding and anxiety prickling across my skin as I wonder what he’ll think, what he’ll say.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says reverently, banishing my nerves. “So beautiful it hurts to look at you.”
“Like the sun?” I tease, my breath coming faster as I squirm beneath his gaze, torn between the delicious thrill of anticipation and the breathless longing to know what it feels like for him to kiss me there.
“Exactly like the sun,” he says. “But what a way to go blind.”
“Don’t go blind,” I whisper, shivering as his thumbs press lightly into the swollen flesh on either side of where I’m so desperate for him.
“It’s okay. I don’t need eyes to do what I want to do to you.”
My lips part, but before I can speak, his tongue sweeps up the center of me, stealing my words and replacing them with fireworks dancing behind my closed eyes.
Electric shocks sizzle across my skin and my nipples pull tight as I gasp, “Oh God, Dean. Please do that again.”
“I intend to,” he says, his tongue tracing a heart-stopping path up one side of my sex and down the other. “I intend to keep going until you’re coming so hard you’re incapable of making jokes, Miss Clayton.”
“I thought you liked jokes.” I arch into his touch, and he slips two fingers inside me, summoning a moan from low in my throat in appreciation of the delicious penetration.
“Not when I’m tasting you for the first time.” He swirls his tongue around my clit in insistent circles that make the tension coiling low in my body pull even tighter. “I’m trying to memorize the way you taste, the way your pussy gets so hot and wet for me.” He groans softly against my aroused flesh, the vibration taking me even higher. “I love seeing how much you want me, Macy. I can’t wait to be inside you, to feel you come for me again.”
I have a fleeting impulse to compliment him on how much his dirty talking skills have improved in the past decade, but I’m already too far gone to form full sentences.
I’m buzzing, dizzy with how close he’s taking me to the edge.
So close, so close, so close to that beautiful, breathless place I can hardly breathe. And then Dean cups my breast, teasing my nipple between his fingers as he rolls his tongue against my clit with a skill that demands my complete surrender, and I’m gone.
I’m flying, falling, soaring as my cells flood with bliss.
I cry out, pulsing my hips into his mouth as I come, my orgasm rocking through me in thick waves that Dean welcomes with encouraging moans and a beckoning motion deep inside me. His fingers take control, inviting orgasm two with Come over, baby, and orgasm number two hastens to do his sweet, sexy bidding.
I’m seconds away from spinning out again when Dean suddenly pulls his hands away.
My brow furrows, and my lips curve in an “Oh” of protest, which dies a swift death when I look up to see him shoving his boxers down with a rough jerk.
He’s as perfectly made as I remember—from the thick base of that smooth column of flesh to the bead of moisture already collecting on his tip. But this time, I’m not an inexperienced teenager unsure how to please her first lover. I’m a grown woman who knows exactly what to do.
And the first order of business is to return the generous favor…
I lean forward, nerve endings humming with anticipation. I’m dying to kiss him, to lick him from base to the tip, imprinting the oh-so-intimate taste of him on my tongue. But before my lips can find their target, Dean cups my cheeks in his hands and shakes his head.
“No, baby,” he says, his breath rushing out. “I can’t. I’ll come, and I don’t want to until I’m inside you. I’m dying to be inside you, Macy. Seriously, it feels like I’m about to have a heart attack. I’ve missed you so much. I’ve never needed anyone the way I need you.”
He takes my hand, pressing it to his chest, where I can feel his heart pounding against his ribs, thrumming out a message that echoes through my entire self—body and soul. I need him, too. I need him so desperately that I don’t have time to waste with any more words.
I loop my arms around his neck and guide him on top of me, spreading my thighs and wrapping my legs around his hips, drawing him close to where I ache. He groans as his lips claim mine, kissing me with a hunger that makes me even hotter, wilder.
I reach down, intending to fit him against my entrance, but his hand is already there. A beat later, his cock is where I’m dying for it to be, and he’s pushing inside me.
“Macy,” he whispers as he glides deep, stretching my inner walls until I’m blissfully full of this man who was made for me.
And just like that, a circuit is closed. I’ve rounded a corner in a faraway land and discovered home was closer than I’d realized.
It’s right here, in Dean’s arms, the only place I’ve ever truly belonged.
As he begins to move, holding my gaze as he takes us both higher, there is nothing but love in the room. The ghosts of old mistakes and misunderstandings are gone, banished by bliss, taking all the pain and hurt with them.
Now there is just Dean’s kiss, Dean’s voice whispering that I’m beautiful, Dean’s body filling every empty place in my heart until I come with a cry he echoes as he tumbles over the edge beside me.
His cock jerks hard inside my clutching walls, drawing out my pleasure until I’m breathless, weightless, and so utterly sated that when it’s over and we’re lying close and quiet, I can’t think of a thing to say. So I simply lie wrapped up in Dean, stroking my hands dreamily up and down his back, my body humming at a frequency I haven’t experienced in years.
I’m tuned in to the happy channel, without a storm cloud in sight.
Outside, the snow is falling harder, the temperatures plummeting as the storm reaches peak intensity, but inside this room, there is only sunshine and hope. I would say lying here with Dean is a wish come true, but I’ve never allowed myself the luxury of this dream.
I’m a grounded-in-reality kind of girl, and until today I haven’t had reason to believe Dean might be missing me as much as I’ve secretly missed him.
But clearly, the two of us have some unfinished business.
It’s a little scary, but all miracles are.
That’s what this is—a miracle, something so good that not even the sound of wolves howling outside the door can scare me.
The wolves are deep in the forest, and I’m here with my touchstone, the one person who has always made me feel safe and warm, even on the coldest winter night.
Chapter 10
Dean
After pulling on enough clothes to stay warm, Macy and I come back together in the mountain of blankets on the floor, cuddling in the glow of the firelight. We’re quiet for what feels like forever, but it’s still not long enough. I already know I’m never going to get enough time with her, this person I’ve missed like a prisoner misses a world without bars.
Now that I
’ve tasted her, felt her so close, remembered what it’s like when we’re skin to skin, heart to heart, I don’t understand how I ever thought I was complete without her in my life.
I’ve been content, even happy most of the time, but not complete, not fully alive. Now, the blinders I hadn’t realized I was wearing have been ripped away, revealing the heart-stopping beauty I’d forgotten was out there in the world.
“I want to do something.” I shift on the floor beside Macy, propping up on one elbow so I can keep looking at the beautiful, blissed-out expression on her face.
“Something like what?” she asks.
“Something to commemorate tonight. A plaque by the side of the road where your car spun out, maybe. Or I’ll see if I can get the mayor to declare it a town holiday.”
Macy’s lips quirk. “A holiday to commemorate our make-up sex?”
“Not just make-up sex. Epic make-up sex,” I insist, loving the way she giggles in response.
“It was, but it might be a little inappropriate for the kids in town to celebrate our bang-i-versary. Don’t you think?”
“Nah.” I wave a dismissive hand. “We’ll just tell them it’s Best Friend Appreciation day. They don’t need to know all the ways I enjoy appreciating my best friend.”
Her smile slips. “Can we call ourselves best friends when we haven’t talked in ten years?”
“Sure we can. You’re still you, and I’m still me. That hasn’t changed. We just have a little catching up to do. But honestly, you already know more than most of my friends. Very few people are in the loop on the stripping thing. I was too worried the news would get back to my mother, and she would be too mortified to ever leave her cabin again.”
“Your mom would be proud of you,” Macy says, laughing when I arch a dubious brow. “Okay, maybe not proud—I’m sure no mother wants to think about women shoving dollar bills into her son’s boxer briefs—but she would be proud of your good heart.”
“Maybe.” I shrug, uncomfortable with praise for doing something that seems like a given. Of course, I was willing to pull out all the stops to help Mom retire. That’s what you do for the people you love. “But hopefully she’ll never find out how I got the money.”
Macy’s nose wrinkles. “Well, this is Lover’s Leap, my friend. Gossip spreads fast. If even one person finds out…” She lifts her hands innocently. “I mean, I won’t tell, of course, but I’m not your usual small-town gossip-hound.”
“Well, I am.” I grin as she rolls her eyes. “Okay, not usually, but I am when it comes to you. Tell me something good, Clayton. Something as juicy as my Santa Secret. I want to hear about all the trouble you’ve gotten into since the last time I saw you.”
“Wow, something as good as the Santa secret…” She pulls in a breath, letting it out slowly as she taps her bottom lip with one luscious finger. Even her fingers are sexy, each one an elegant work of art I could spend hours admiring. “Well, I just finished meditation training with the actors from a gladiator movie that starts filming next week. The producer is one of my oldest clients and a big believer in the benefits of meditation for focus and creativity. That’s something I’m not supposed to tell anyone until the cast is officially announced, but it’s not really my secret.”
“Right. I want intimate dirt,” I agree. “But that’s cool. Do you enjoy working with famous people?”
She bites her lip. “Sometimes. Sometimes not so much. But these guys were all easy to work with and open to trying new things, even the chants and mantras. But I know that’s impersonal. Let me think…” Her eyes widen as she snaps her fingers. “Okay, I’ve got one! Speaking of trying new things, I went skinny-dipping for the first time last summer. Some girlfriends and I drank a little too much wine one afternoon and ended up running into the ocean behind my friend Amy’s beach house in Malibu.”
I let my hand trail from her hip to her waist and back again. “I’m liking this confession already. Did you discover a passion for swimming naked you want to share with me come summer time?”
Macy laughs. “Hardly. We’d only been in the water about ten minutes when Amy started screaming and hauling ass back toward shore as fast as she could swim. The rest of us looked up, and there, not fifty feet away, was a huge shark fin cutting through the water.”
My throat locks up. “Yikes. Was everyone okay?”
“Yes, but we were so terrified we ran onto the beach naked and stood there freaking out about the shark for a good five minutes before we remembered to put our clothes back on. When we finally started looking around the rocks where we’d left our stuff, we realized a bunch of surfer guys were taking pictures of us with their phones. They’d hidden our clothes while we were swimming and were lying in wait to get the money shots.”
“Jerks.” I experience the sudden urge to stab a surfer. “They better have erased every fucking pixel.”
Macy shrugs. “We asked them to, and I think they did. They seemed to feel sufficiently guilty after Amy started crying, insisting her grandmother would have her committed to a psych ward if nude pictures of her ended up on the Internet. But honestly, we were all so grateful to be alive at that point, we didn’t have the energy to be too terribly upset about the pictures.”
“Lucky for them,” I say. “The Macy I knew would have kicked surfer ass over something like that.”
“New Macy is a little more laid back,” she says with a sigh. “But it definitely would have been a bigger deal if I hadn’t just dodged a shark attack. One thing’s for certain—it cured me of any desire to go skinny-dipping again.”
My lips pull down on the sides. “That’s a sad story. A very sad story.”
“No, it isn’t, psycho,” she says, smacking my arm. “A sad story would have ended with someone’s leg getting chewed off.”
“You have to promise me you’ll let me take you skinny-dipping this summer. We don’t have any sharks in the lakes around here.”
“Yes, but the lakes around here are freezing. Even when I was a kid and desperate to swim, I had a hard time talking myself into the water.”
“But I’ll be there to warm you up when we get out,” I say, molding my fingers to her ribs, just beneath her breast.
“You are pretty good at warming me up.” She arches into my touch, the sight of her nipples hardening in the warm air wafting from the fireplace wiping all thoughts of skinny-dipping—and just about everything else—from my mind.
“I thought there was nothing I missed more than you under me,” I murmur, letting my thumb brush back and forth, lightly tracing the underside of her fullness. “But I was wrong.”
“You were?” She arches a brow, eyes dancing as she adds in a playful voice. “And what else have you missed, Mr. Roberts? Taking me from behind?”
I groan softly in pleasure-pain. That’s what dirty talk from those sweet lips does to me, causes acute, yet heavenly physical discomfort. “I’ve definitely missed that. But not as much as you on top of me, riding me while I kiss you here.” I bring my fingers to one nipple, rolling it lightly through her soft sweater. “And here.” I transfer my attention to her other nipple, which is already beaded tight and waiting for me to show it how much I’ve missed it in the half hour we’ve been apart.
“I love being kissed in both of those places.” Macy draws her sweater slowly over her head, baring her stunning curves as she adds in a huskier voice, “Almost as much as I love riding you until you come begging for mercy.”
“No way,” I say, biting my lip as I tug off my undershirt and shove my velvet pants lower on my hips. “I don’t want any of that. Show me no mercy, Clayton, not one fucking bit.”
“Sounds good.” She holds my gaze, making my pulse spike and my head spin as she drags her leggings down her thighs.
My breath rushes out. “If I’d realized you hadn’t bothered putting your bra or panties back on, we would have been naked fifteen minutes ago.”
“Promises, promises.” She kicks the fabric off her feet with a grin, leaving
her nude and so heart-stoppingly beautiful I can’t wait another minute to have her on top of me.
“Come here, woman. And I’ll prove I’m a man who keeps his word.”
She glides on top of me, her silky hair falling around us as she fits my cock to her slickness and sinks down, taking every inch. And it is even hotter and sweeter than it was the first time, every stroke of her hips all the confirmation I need that I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.
This second chance is the miracle I hadn’t realized I was wishing for until Macy slid across the road and back into my life.
And now nothing will ever be the same. Not me. Not her. And not Christmas, which is now most certainly my favorite holiday.
Bar. None.
Chapter 11
Dean
I prove how good I am at warming Macy up a second time, and then we gather energy-renewing snacks to devour by the fire. We drink more bottled water and finish the last of the trail mix—Macy refuses to touch her Fritos, as they have hardened to slivers of shaved golden granite—and get back to the business of catching up.
I fill Macy in on the journey to starting my own business and how amazing it’s been to see it grow and flourish as more people discover the fun to be had outdoors in Lover’s Leap, no matter what the season.
“The only hard part has been finding staff I can count on,” I confess. “I love this town, but we’ve got more than our fair share of ski bums.”
Macy’s lips curve in a knowing smirk. “Let me guess—they come down with a terrible case of strep throat every time there’s fresh powder?”
I grimace. “That’s about the size of it. I finally had to let a few guys go. I hate to fire people I know need the work, but I can’t run a business if my staff doesn’t show up.” I stretch my neck to one side as I debate whether the pair of raisins in my hand are too tiny to bother eating. “Still, I feel guilty when I see someone who used to work for me standing in the food pantry line. That cuts pretty deep, you know?”