An emotion she couldn’t quite identify flickered in his eyes so quickly she thought that she might have imagined it, but then he smiled, too, reaching for her.
Lydia followed and tried not to think about how much she loved his laugh, the way he looked at her and the way he touched her, because pretty soon, it would be time to return to Philly, and to her normal life. And that plan didn’t include Ely as anything other than a casual friend.
Still, as he hauled her close and held her tight, his kiss swamping any more thinking or conversation, she couldn’t remember the last time any of her “friends” had made her feel exactly like this. There was definitely nothing casual about it.
* * *
ELY LAY IN THE huge bed wide awake, staring at the ceiling where a sliver of light snuck through the drawn curtains; Lydia was sleeping soundly next to him, curled up on her side of the bed. The hot tub still hissed and burbled over in the corner of the room, and he smiled, remembering what had happened there a few hours ago.
In spite of the intermittent insomnia he always experienced, he should be out like a light, too. Still, even as his desire for Lydia had consumed him for hours as they played out a number of fantasies and scenarios, once the passion passed, his mind was left ticking away thoughts like the clock on the bed stand.
Sex has always been fun for me, she’d said.
And sex with Lydia was fun. Ely was having a whole lot of fun, no doubt about that, but it was something else that had him awake and unsettled. Like how she moved away any time things became too intimate or how she closed him out when a conversation became too personal.
He’d known the deal going in—friends, albeit with benefits—only, but he wasn’t even sure he felt like they were developing a friendship. Didn’t friends share, trust, and rely on each other? Here, he was lying to her, although for her safety, and she was keeping a safe distance from him emotionally. The only two times she had really connected with him that way was when she told him about Ginny, and when she’d cried over her mother, by the tree.
It was as if the only connection they had was sexual, and Ely wanted...more. Not living together forever and walking down the aisle—no white picket fences—but he wanted to be something more to her than “fun.”
Was he already starting to bore her? Was it inevitable, given her broader sexual experience? Maybe so. For him, he felt as if he had only scratched the surface, but he could see the end in her eyes. Lydia was already mentally packing up her bags and leaving. The thing was that he was leaving, too—they were going back to Philly together. Did this have to be over? Did it have to be one thing or the other?
Even now, she slept soundly, facing him, with him, but apart. She’d crept over to her own side of the bed and passed out, retreating back to her own space even in sleep.
Ely closed the distance, moving his hand over her shoulder, loving the smoothness of her skin, the strength of her body underneath the softness. He traced the line of one of her tattoos from her upper arm, down over her collarbone to the slope of her breast. The nub at the peak, soft in sleep, hardened as soon as he touched it. Her soft sigh triggered a deep need inside of him to touch her more, to have her close.
Right now, he couldn’t imagine ever not wanting her. Or at least, not for a very long time.
Easing downward, he replaced his hand with his mouth, sucking gently on one tip then the other, his hand traveling down to slide between her legs. She moaned, still not quite awake, but her silky thighs opened for him.
Her soft sounds and warmth invited him in. He kissed her belly, her hip, and then explored that sweet, slick spot that made her whimper his name on a sigh of pleasure. It thrilled him to do that. More so than it ever had before, with anyone else. Having Lydia open to him, trusting him and wanting him, was more of a rush than he could say, even if it was only physical.
But soft in half sleep, she was irresistible. He grabbed a condom, his last one he realized, and did the one thing they hadn’t done in all of their times together. Maybe this old-fashioned, face-to-face loving would seem quaint to her, but he wanted it. Levering over her, he lay down between her thighs, not entering her, but simply laying there, surrounded in her warmth.
“Ely,” she whispered sleepily, her hand coming to his face. He kissed it, wanting something tender and gentle between them. Wanting her close when he was inside her.
“You awake?” he asked, nibbling at her earlobe.
“Mostly,” she said, sighing. “What are you doing?”
He chuckled softly, nudging her with his erection. “I wanted you again,” he said.
“Oh, that’s nice,” she responded with a smile, and tipped her face up to kiss him, starting to move from under him.
He stopped her. “No, this way...just like this,” he said.
She stilled, and then relaxed, her arms coming around his shoulders.
“Okay,” she agreed.
While the kink and the fun were great, for one moment, he wanted something quiet and real with Lydia.
“Okay,” he echoed and leaned in to kiss her.
He didn’t plunder or let the moment become frantic, but kept it slow and gentle, kissing and touching as he eased inside and slipped his hand down below her hip to gain some purchase.
She whimpered approvingly and wrapped her legs around his lower back, deepening the connection.
Blood pounded in Ely’s brain, urging him to go faster, harder, to possess and take what was his, but he didn’t give in to that, preferring instead to maintain the soft, steady glide that had his entire body shaking—and hers, too—as they made a very slow, lovely climb together.
She was clinging to him and crying out when she came. Kissing her deeply so that their connection was complete, he thrust again, finding his own release and not letting go or moving even several minutes after it passed.
It was what he needed. It felt...right. And he didn’t want to move, to break the connection.
“Ely,” Lydia said, her hands on his shoulders. “Did you fall back asleep?” she asked, a touch of humor in her tone.
She did that, too—used humor as one of her ways to avoid emotion and intimacy. It could be something that brought them closer, but Lydia used it to defuse instead. He still didn’t move but pushed up on his arms, sliding his hands into her hair and taking a few more kisses before he responded.
“No, I just like being here, like this, with you.”
“Oh,” she said, and he didn’t know if he detected a bit of apprehension in her tone. Her legs loosened from around him, letting him go. “I have to get up, though, sorry,” she said with a slight chuckle, breaking the spell.
He nodded with a sigh, planting one more kiss on her mouth and feeling the cool air rush between them even if the room was plenty warm enough. She slid from the bed, went to the bathroom without another word and closed the door. Ely dispensed of the condom and found his shorts. Walking to the window, and he stared out at dawn as it crept over the sleeping city.
“You coming back to bed?” she said from the bedroom doorway.
“I don’t think so. Not tired,” he replied, though on some level, he was exhausted. “You can, though. We have a few hours before we need to check out.”
“Is something wrong?” she asked, but she stayed in the doorway.
He took a deep breath, dove in.
“I was just thinking,” he said, turning to face her.
“About what?”
“Us.”
She didn’t say anything, but he noted how she immediately wrapped her arms around the front of her. She’d put on one of the thick terry-cloth robes from the bath, and was covered from neck to calf. He smiled. The thing dwarfed her. It was cuter than hell, but he figured she wouldn’t like hearing that.
“Don’t worry. I know we’re not in this for keeps. No wedding bells or promise rings,” he said. “But why does this have to stop now? We can be friends—like this—back home, too. We’re adults, right? We can do whatever we want.”
She pushed a
hand through her hair, her most prominent nervous habit. “Why are you bringing this up now, Ely?”
“I don’t know. I guess because I just thought of it. I like being with you, and I don’t feel like ending this yet,” he said bluntly, putting it out there. “I don’t know why we have to set a deadline.”
She inched into the room slowly.
“I like being with you, too, but things would be too complicated at home. Too hard to explain to people who know us that we’re just jumping each other’s bones. People would expect—”
“That’s bull. We don’t have to explain anything. It’s nobody’s business and I’m not in the habit of sharing my sex life with my family, or anyone else, anyway,” he said, hoping to lighten the tone, but also to appeal to her sense of reason.
Her arguments were flimsy; there was no reason that they couldn’t be together whenever they wanted, wherever they wanted.
Unless of course, she really was done. Bored. Ready to move on.
“It’s not that easy,” she said, sounding frustrated.
“It’s exactly that easy,” he countered, digging in.
She frowned. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t understand.”
“I’ve told you what I want. Do you know what you want, Lydia?”
She stood, tense, clearly annoyed, and then her shoulders slumped as she looked at him, nodding.
“You’re right. I want more of this. More of you,” she said, stepping up and sliding her hands over the front of his chest. “Maybe we could get together now and then at home. As friends,” she said, shrugging, as if to make it less than it was. He bridled at that, but knew not to push.
Ely’s heart thundered under her touch. She just agreed, albeit apprehensively, to seeing each other when they returned to Philly. Her concession felt fragile, like gossamer between them. He didn’t want to damage it. His hands came up to cover hers.
“Very special friends,” he said, stepping in closer until their hands were trapped between them.
The corners of her lips tilted up slightly. “Yes, very special friends,” she responded with an eye roll. This time the humor reached out, and he felt it warm him.
Ely relaxed, having won the battle, and that was enough since there was no war. He and Lydia were still on the same page, generally speaking, but a new connection had been formed. It was a great, sexy, hot connection, he thought, as they kissed.
His hands pulled her in, traveling around to her back and kneading the tense muscles there. The discussion had really tightened her up, but Ely knew how to take care of that. Amazingly, he was ready for her again, or would be soon, and walked her back to the bedroom, disposing of the robe as they went. She fell back on the bed with a laugh, more relaxed. He loved seeing her this way.
“Roll over,” he said and smiled as she wiggled her eyebrows at him before complying.
But Ely wasn’t in any hurry. Settling up over her thighs, he started a back rub that massaged every knot from her neck and shoulders. As his hands drifted over her, he lost himself in touching and studying the ink on her back, studying the angle of her shoulder blade and the dimple at the base of her spine. She moaned and pushed her bottom up against his erection.
“Can’t. Out of condoms,” he said with deep, deep regret.
“S’ok, I’m protected,” she urged.
She pushed her hips up again, and Ely slid back to his feet, his hands trembling slightly at the idea of being with her this way. Standing by the edge of the bed, he urged her back toward him as he parted her thighs and stepped in between. The first touch of her skin to his was so intense he sucked in a breath and paused, uncertain how long he could last. Only Lydia could have him this hot after having spent himself so many times in the hours before. He didn’t know what it was about her, but he liked it.
“Please, Ely,” she said, her hands curling into the sheets, and he couldn’t deny her a second longer, sliding inside, deep and easy, with a long groan at how good it felt.
“You’re so hot, so soft,” he managed, pulling back, then forward, then thrusting in again, faster, harder. He took in the curve of her back, the sway of her hips, the exotic ink, and wanted this to last forever. This was perfection, he thought, watching her body shudder before he lost any control he thought he had.
It was more than an hour later that they finally admitted that they had to pack up and head back to the ranch. There was a lot to do before the festival and before they got ready to return to Philadelphia the week after Christmas.
Now, however, Ely felt lighter since he wasn’t facing their return with that sense of finality that had been dogging him. He and Lydia would continue to see each other when they wanted to, casually, and eventually their interest would probably flame out and they would remain friends. It was all he could possibly ask for and all he wanted, he told himself as he looked at her in the car and hushed any objections his heart was making.
13
LYDIA WAS AS nervous as could be when she finally came downstairs after changing clothes three times before settling on the first outfit she had put on. Ely’s approving gaze as it traveled over her in the formfitting black pants and bright red wool sweater confirmed she had made a good choice. The thermal underwear she had on beneath were less sexy, but as she would be out in the garage at her booth doing henna tats for the first night of the festival, she wanted to stay warm.
“You are one sexy elf, indeed,” Ely said, looking good in his own dark jeans and black sweater, a red flannel collar peeking out from underneath his collar. “Why don’t we go walk around for a little while, first, and take it all in? Get something to eat before you man your booth?”
Lydia swallowed and looked toward the kitchen. “I have some things in the fridge, here, if you’re hungry.”
Ely peered closer. “Why are you so nervous? This will be fun.”
“Right. The thought of being publicly humiliated by people who don’t want me here is really something to look forward to.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Or what if no one comes to my booth, or thinks the tattoos are stupid?”
“That won’t happen, either. If it does, you can do me, and I’ll get as many as it takes to get everyone else interested.”
Lydia had to smile. She was being ridiculous, she knew. If Ginny or her family showed up, they probably would just ignore her, if they came at all. She just really didn’t want a repeat of what happened in the grocery store, and she felt like a target, to some extent, sitting out there for all to see.
But as Ely said, that wasn’t going to happen. No doubt Ginny had no interest in seeing her, and whoever was harassing her wouldn’t do so in front of possibly hundreds of people.
“Okay, then, I’m ready,” she said brightly, joining him at the door.
She stepped out onto the porch and paused, catching her breath.
“Oh, wow,” she said, taking it all in for the first time. They had seen it in parts, putting it all together, but now...it was like the entire area around the house and the barns had been transformed into some magical winter wonderland. Lights glowed everywhere above their heads, strung along and between the buildings. The decorated trees glittered and danced in the slight breeze, stacks of gifts donated by everyone in town piled underneath—the night was perfect. The sky was clear and the air was crisp—cold, yes, but in that clean, fantastic way that made everything seem sharper and brighter. People were drifting in from the main road, being diverted to park in the frozen field off to the left, behind the barn where she and Ely had had their snowball fight. Some kids came running in, laughing and looking at everything; some others just stood in happy awe, like she was, admiring it.
“You helped make this happen, Lydia. Keep that in mind,” Ely whispered in her ear, delivering a kiss to her cheek. “Come here, there’s something else you need to see.”
They spotted Geri and Faith by a tree near the entrance, decorated in gold and silver. There was a plaque set beside it, and Ely steer
ed Lydia around to see.
She’d expected it was a welcome to the festival—and it was—with an honorary message about her mother, and a thank-you to Lydia as well, for hosting the festival. Her picture was on the placard, alongside her mother’s, and below, the picture of them baking cookies, as well as the one of her mother hanging lights. Lydia stared at it for a long time, letting it all wash through her. She was afraid to say anything in case she made a complete fool of herself.
“Do you like it?” Faith asked, sounding worried. Lydia realized she had been standing there, silent, for several minutes, and a larger crowd had gathered. “We thought those pictures really showed the resemblance between you two.”
“It’s wonderful,” Lydia managed, and turned with a smile and a hug for Faith and Geri. “Thank you so much.”
“No, the thanks is all to you,” Geri said with a wink. “Now, let’s get this party started!”
Laughter rose and more people arrived. Hot chocolate and the scent of freshly fried doughnuts as well as other treats filled the air, and the local school choruses took turns caroling as everyone went through the various booths and activities provided.
Lydia was so busy at her booth that she barely had time to look up—every teenager and tween in town, along with some of the adults—had lined up for her henna tats, and she just hoped she had enough supplies.
Ely brought her snacks and drinks, and she visited as she inked little paisley stars and other stylized Christmas decor on hands and forearms.
She was having such a great time, her nervousness evaporated quickly. She met some people she had known from before, people who spoke so nicely of her mother, and new people who had just moved here. Everyone was lovely.
“C’mon, time for a break,” Ely interjected after about two hours. The festival went until eleven, which meant she had two hours left. Then she would do it again tomorrow night—now it was something she looked forward to.
“I don’t need a break,” she objected. “This is fun.”
Turning around, Ely looked at the line of expectant customers and smiled. “Okay, she’ll be right with you folks, just a minute,” he said, dipping down and kissing her hard and long in front of everyone.
Hers for the Holidays Page 16
