The Christmas Key

by Lori Wilde

  She yielded. Gave everything over to him. Held nothing back. Kissed him with a fire and passion that robbed his breath.

  There were a hundred reasons why this was not a good idea. Never mind that she now knew his secret. She was still raw from the anger and grief she’d expressed that evening. She hadn’t had time to absorb her new knowledge about him. No time to integrate. This was pure reaction. Neither one of them had had time to consider the consequences of going to bed together.

  But his body was overriding every bit of his common sense.

  Her smell invaded him. Lit him up like a Christmas tree. Her taste was his undoing. The way she parted her lips lured him in. Pushing him beyond reason.

  “Make love to me, Mark,” she begged. “I want you. I need you. Please.”

  He burned with yearning. Not just for her body, although there was plenty of that. But the physical stuff wasn’t enough. Not with Naomi. He was in deep. Deeper than he’d ever been. Never mind the danger he’d faced in the Middle East. Nothing felt as weighted, as monumentally life changing as making love to this woman.

  She wriggled against him. Fierce and hungry. Kissed him again.

  Now he’d done it. Struck the match. Lit the flame.

  He knew he’d been swimming in treacherous waters. Understood there were riptides and wild currents, and yet he’d waded in.

  But he was a sucker for the Christmas magic and he was just too damn weak-willed to resist temptation. He nibbled her earlobe. She moaned, a soft little sound of ecstasy.

  His heart was a drum. Thump-thumping with red-hot desire. “Why are you here, Naomi?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” She ran a hand underneath the hem of his shirt. Laid her palm against his bare skin.

  “Why now? What’s driving you? Are you trying to shut down your darker emotions again? Whitewash them with pleasure? Is that really why you’re here? You want to use me as a salve for your wounds?”

  “Would that be such a bad thing?” She fiddled with the buttons on his shirt.

  He folded his hand around hers. “I don’t want it to be like this.”

  “Why not?”

  He pressed his forehead to hers, looked her in the face until both their eyes crossed. “Do I need to get some more plates and take you back to the bowling alley, butterfly?”

  “I’ve dealt with those feelings,” she said. “The plate smashing. Making the mosaic. It was very therapeutic. Healing. I thank you. But there are other kinds of healing, Mr. Shepherd.”

  “If you start singing Marvin Gaye, I’m going to tickle you.” He moved a hand down to her side. Hovered over her ribs.

  Naomi hummed a few bars of “Sexual Healing.”

  He made a light scratching motion against her skin with his fingers. “I’m serious,” he warned.

  “Me too.” She kept humming. Raised her eyebrows. Daring him.

  He cupped her chin, peered into her eyes. “Why are you here?”

  “Because I know you’re leaving. I came over to apologize for being so harsh to you at the bowling alley and I saw the Jeep packed with your things. And I just can’t let you go without spending one night with you.”

  “I have to leave. You were right. I’ve got to face my past and untangle that mess. I have to figure out why I can’t trust my gut. Why I can’t forgive myself.”

  “I know.” She reached for the buttons on his shirt again, and this time he did not stop her.

  “You still want me?”

  “We’re here now,” she whispered. “This is where the healing begins.”

  “Naomi.”

  “Mark.” She stripped his shirt off his shoulders. Her eyes lit up at the sight of his bare chest. “Oh. My.”

  “You’ve only been with one other man.”

  “All the more reason to have a taste of something new.” She licked her lips.

  “This is a big deal.”

  “Quit stalling, Mr. Shepherd. It’s time to put out.”

  What a delight she was. For Shepherd, Naomi was a refuge from normal life. A haven for his mind. She was hallowed ground. Being with her was play. Sacred. Salvation. She was smart, insightful, inspirational, devoted. With her, because of her, he was fully engaged. Alive in a way that he’d never before lived.

  He laughed and hugged her.

  “Hey, hey,” she said. “That’s affection. I want heat. Got it?”

  “You mean like this.” He swept her up. Planted a hot, hard kiss on her lips. Used his tongue to ignite and incite.

  “Exactly like that!” she crowed breathlessly when he finally let her go. “Now the big question. Do you have condoms?”

  “Packed in my Jeep.”

  “Well.” She made shooing motions. “What are you waiting for? Go get them.”

  While a bare-chested Mark raced out to the Jeep for the condoms, Naomi took the picture off the wall, turned it facedown on the dresser. She went to the bathroom. Fluffed her hair. Pinched her cheeks. Good enough.

  “Naomi,” Mark called. “Are you still here?”

  She popped back into the bedroom.

  “There you are.” He looked relieved. “I thought you took off.”

  “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

  “Look what I’ve got.” He waved a roll of condoms. “Three.”

  “Feeling pretty sure of yourself, huh?”

  “I live to please you.”

  The humility of his statement, the sincerity in his eyes, told her everything she needed to know. He loved her. Even if he hadn’t said it, she knew he did. “We both need this.”

  “Yes.” His voice was dusky. He stood in the doorway. She was in the middle of the room, a few feet away. She remembered the first time he’d come into her kitchen to find her sopping up pickle juice in a field of broken glass.

  Overcome by how quickly things had moved with them, she put a palm to her mouth.

  “Are you scared?”

  “Of you? No, not ever.” She understood him. Knew what a gentle giant he was beneath the warrior’s heart.

  He looked reassured. Happy.

  “Are you scared of me?” she asked.

  “Butterfly, I’m quaking in my boots.”

  “Why?” She laughed at the idea of it.

  “I’m terrified of messing this up.”

  “You won’t.”

  “What if I can only last sixty seconds?”

  “You do have three condoms. We go again.”

  He reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I want you desperately. More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. But this has to be right for both of us. There’s no need to rush into something you end up regretting.”

  “Divine timing,” she whispered. Oh no, had he changed his mind? “It feels right to me. How about you?”

  “It’s felt right from the moment you climbed into my Jeep.”

  “We’re completely alone. It’s just you and me. Now, take me to bed.” She flung her arms around him.

  He captured her in his brawny embrace. Lifted her up.

  “Whoa. Wait. Can you carry me?”

  “Hell yes.”

  “What about your knee?”

  “I’ve got you, butterfly. Don’t ever doubt it.”

  Convinced, trusting him, she enfolded her legs around his waist. Entangled her arms around his neck. Nuzzled his chest. Faith in him parted the sorrow of the past year and she was right where she belonged.

  He carried her the four steps to the bed. She could feel the sturdy, steadfast thump of his heart beating against her chest.

  This was so easy. Who knew that being with him would be this easy? Effortless as a bird gliding on the breeze.

  She tilted her head back to get a good look at him. Those dark eyes, that strong chin and masculine nose. Skin nicked with scars. Some people might think he looked scary.

  To Naomi, he was the most handsome man in the world. How had his face become so familiar to her in such a short time? It felt as if they’d known each other the
ir entire lives.

  He was good with Hunter, a natural father. She’d thought he was sexy from the very beginning. But the more she came to know him, the more her attraction added deeper layers. What she felt for him was much more complicated than simple sexual chemistry. Although there was plenty of that too.

  She could not wait to be with him, to feel his body inside hers.

  He laid her back on the mattress. Stepped back. Sent an appreciative stare strolling over her body. His eyelashes lowered in a totally beguiling manner. His face whetted into a sly grin that said, I’m about to see you naked.

  “You are so gorgeous,” he murmured, his voice catching on the final word. Hushed and reverent.

  She was feeling pretty reverent herself. Her hands were trembling. Again. This was a big step. Their first time together. Her first time with someone other than Robert.

  If she’d had time to prepare, this would have gone down differently. Not in the rectory for sure. Or her bedroom at her parents’ house. Maybe she would have booked a room at the Merry Cherub. But no, everyone in town would have known what they were up to. Maybe it was best not to be prepared.

  Just let it happen. Roll with the flow.

  But if she’d planned this she would have reapplied her makeup after the bawl fest at the bowling alley. Gone to Terri’s spa and waxed in places he was about to see. She would have worn sexy undies and a bra that matched her panties. Candles. Music. Snacks.

  Mark didn’t need any mood setting, if the bulge in his jeans was any indication.

  “Don’t worry about a thing, butterfly,” he said, seemingly reading her mind. “Everything is going to be just fine.”

  He came closer again, his knees bumping against the end of the mattress.

  Feelings flooded in on her. Excitement. Anxiety. Elation. Fear. She lay on her back staring up at him. He was the most magnificent man she’d ever seen.

  He unbuckled his belt. Yanked it free from the belt loops. It made a sexy, slithering sound. He unsnapped his jeans.

  She froze. Ensnared. Barely able to breathe.

  “You want to see what’s behind the zipper?” he teased.

  Naomi nodded. Yes, she did.

  “I’m already half-naked. It’s your turn now. Take off your top.”

  Naomi sat up. Reached for the hem of her shirt, arms crossed. Taking her time, like raising the curtain on a stage show, she peeled the shirt upward and over her head. She wadded it into a ball and threw it at him.

  He caught it. One-handed. Tossed it over his shoulder. What was behind him was not important.

  The room was cold. Her nipples beaded hard beneath her teal bra.

  “Keep going.”

  But instead of taking off her bra, she boldly hooked her arm around his waist. Pulled him to her. On top of her. Until the erection inside his jeans nestled against the zipper of her jeans.

  Slick as satin, he reached behind her for the snap on her bra. He fumbled a bit. So much for his smooth operator vibe. Beneath the shadow of dark stubble at his jaw a muscle twitched.

  “Naomi.” He breathed her name. “This is the first time I’ve made love to a woman since before Clayton . . .”

  The mention of her brother stopped everything cold.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Don’t be.”

  “After last Christmas—”

  “You didn’t feel you deserved pleasure.”

  His eyes widened. Apparently the thought hadn’t occurred to him before, but from the muscle tic at his jaw, he was thinking of it now. “Maybe.”

  “You deserve all the pleasure in the world, Mark Shepherd. That’s why I’m here tonight. To prove that to you.”

  She kissed him lightly. On the cheek. Moved to his temple. Forehead. The bridge of his nose. Kissed his nose all the way down the tip.

  He sat still. Letting her kiss away. It was weirdly sexy. Showering him with endless kisses while he stayed motionless. More healing. A ritual. A rite. They were inventing it as they went along.

  When he lowered his head to kiss her breasts, she let out a soft sigh.

  They were both still wearing their jeans, both naked from the waist up. They touched each other. Exploring every spot. Tender caresses. Slow massages.

  He clasped her in his arms. Those vast sturdy arms. She prayed he would never let her go. Please, God, please. She rested her head on his shoulder. She wasn’t very experienced in lovemaking.

  This was new.

  And scary.

  She reached up to stroke his face. Her hands trembling.

  “Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?” he whispered. “We can turn back. Anytime. It’s not too late. You’re a pastor’s daughter.”

  “I’m twenty-seven. And I have a tattoo.”

  “Oh,” he teased. “That makes all the difference. Let me see.” He reached for the button on her jeans. She did not resist.

  Leisurely, he tugged off her pants. She raised her hips off the bed. Helping him. He took her panties off with her jeans. Let out a low whistle of appreciation. His eyes fixed on her.

  Feeling shy, she reached for a pillow to put over her thighs.

  “Did I embarrass you by staring?”

  “A little,” she admitted.

  He kissed her. She was sitting in his lap. He still had his jeans on and the denim was rough against her bare bottom.

  It was the sweetest of kisses. Gentle and kind. She ran the tip of her tongue along his bottom lip. Tasted his special, Mark Shepherd flavor.

  His mouth was a plume. Skimming against hers. The quietest of torments. His peppermint breath warmed her skin.

  Good man. He was a good man inside and out. Considering his background, she didn’t know how he’d gotten that way, but he was. If only he could recognize his own goodness.

  She shut her eyes. Leaned her head back. Felt his hot lips scorch her throat. A froth of heat fizzed between their lips. She swallowed his radiance. Absorbed him. Felt it slip down her throat. Bubble in her stomach. Slide lower with rowdy insistence.

  With him, she felt reborn. Shiny and new. Fresh and clean. Healing. They were healing each other.

  “Are you cold?”

  “No.”

  “Do you need to shift? Move? Go to the bathroom?”

  She opened her eyes. Stroked his dear face with her fingertips. “I have no needs other than to be with you.”

  He stretched out on the bed. Pulled her down beside him. The luxurious sweep of his long, dark eyelashes softened the angular lines of his tanned cheekbones. His cocoa-colored eyes searched hers, full of awe and adoration.

  No man had ever looked at her quite that way. As if he’d found his North Star and it was she.

  Mark looked so unguarded. It was a touching moment. She placed three fingers to her lips. He might be a strong, brave Marine, but he was also quite fragile. She had the power to break him, and that realization rocked her to her bones.

  He trusted her. He might not trust himself, but he trusted her.

  Honored beyond speech, she felt her heart turn to butter in her chest. She was toast. This man had her heart forever. If they never spent another moment in each other’s company after tonight, it didn’t matter. She would always love him. He was her soul mate, and nothing could ever change that.

  Mark lowered his head to kiss her breasts. Paying special attention to her nipples. Kissing first one, and then the other.

  She writhed. Overcome with need. “Get out of those jeans!”

  “Yes, ma’am.” His smile broke open like a sunrise. And he stripped off his pants and underwear.

  “Finally.”

  “Greedy little thing.” He laughed.

  “Make note of that.”

  “I’ll file it under Important Things to Know About Naomi.”

  They were sitting in the middle of the bed. Cross-legged. Peering into each other’s eyes. It felt cosmic.

  They couldn’t seem to get enough of staring into each other. Savoring every moment. Every sme
ll. Every sight. Every sound. Taste. Touch.

  His touch was light at times. Firm at others. He seemed to know exactly when to ease up on the pressure, and when to push. Everywhere he landed—her ears, her palms, her elbows, her knees—she tingled. As if he had lightning bolts in his fingers and they could stir magic.

  After an hour or more of exploring each other’s bodies with hands and tongues, he eased her onto her back. Straddled her.

  He checked in with her again. “How you doing, butterfly?”

  “If I get any better I’ll explode.”

  “Well, that’s promising,” he said.

  She could feel his erection between them. A massive, hard shaft she could not ignore. It was there. Up. Big. Proud.

  He kissed her. Her entire body swamped with heat. His mouth moved down her body, taking a road trip from one set of lips to another.

  When he reached the most secret part of her, she contracted. Worried. Afraid. Not knowing what to expect. Robert had not ever gone down there. He’d told her that he didn’t care for that particular sex act.

  Mark, on the other hand, was enthralled. He smooched languorous trails of moist heat and she was mesmerized. Her sensitive skin incredibly responsive. Her body a throbbing magnet of electrical light.

  He tenderly parted her knees. Tickled his fingers over her inner thighs as if he was playing heavenly music on a celestial keyboard. All thoughts fled her mind. Body awareness claimed her concentration. This was why she’d gone to bed with him. To feel fully alive in this moment. To live her kismet cookie dream.

  Those incredible lips of his pressed hot, fervent kisses up the inside of her leg, inching closer and closer to her feminine core.

  “Do you like this?” he murmured. “Do you want more?”

  “Yesss,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “Yesss, yesss, yesss.” A sublime snake of yesses. A streaming steam of yesses. A never-ending circle. Yes-yes-yes-yes.

  The closer he got to her entrance, the tighter her muscles tensed. By the time his tongue touched her most sensitive area, her fists were clenched. Her eyes squeezed closed. Her entire body stiff as a drum skin. Her breath coming in short, gulping staggers.

  “Relax,” he murmured against her skin. Sent a sweet vibration buzzing through her.

  As if that was so easy to do when he was doing the most incredible things to her. She gasped. Arched her back against his eager tongue.