In the only functioning cell she had left in her brain, she thought briefly that she still didn’t love the word submissive because it smacked of weakness to her, but it was patently obvious that wasn’t how Jeremy saw it. And then she stopped thinking, because he loosened his grip and started kissing her.
He ran his hands down her arms, lacing his fingers with hers, and then he lifted her hands above her head, settling them against the curved logs. “Leave them there. Don’t take them down until I tell you to.”
She nodded, and then he stepped back.
She could just see herself in the mirror over the dresser. Her hair was a curly, sweaty mess around her flushed face. And with the way he’d positioned her arms, her breasts were thrust out. She felt restless and itchy under her skin, as though her need for him was a living thing. She thought she looked a wreck, but the heat in Jeremy’s eyes said otherwise.
“You look like one of Santa’s helpers in that red sweater.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Hello, Jewish girl here. And you seem to have this thing for elves.”
“More like presents, really.” He reached out and opened the first button on the sweater. “Opening them is my favorite part.” The second button gave way with a flick of his fingers. “But I like to take my time unwrapping them.”
Her chest heaved as she sucked a breath into her suddenly empty lungs, but she didn’t have enough oxygen to speak. She watched him watching her, his gaze intent on the next button.
It slipped free with the tiniest of nudges, and then she could see the edge of her bra. So could he.
“Lace your fingers behind your head.”
She brought her arms down and did as he ordered. “I feel like a suspect.”
“Well, I am going to frisk you.” His eyes roved over her body, lingering on her chest before moving up to her face. “You’re fucking beautiful, Rebeccah.”
“I’m not.”
“You are. I imagined you dressed like a pin-up girl more times than I should probably admit.” His hands landed on her hips and then swept over her body in a long caress, opening the rest of the buttons and pushing the sweater out of the way, ending with his palms on her breasts. “And these. Stuff wet dreams are made of. This is one hell of a sexy bra, too. Red sweater, green lace bra. I guess you’re right about what I like, kitten. Here you are, my very own Christmas elf.”
Even though his hot hands were making it hard for her to think, she managed a choked laugh. “Just don’t tell my rabbi.”
He grinned. “Right. No elf-outing.”
And then his hands dropped to her jeans, and he popped the button. Oh, God. She started to shake.
“You with me?”
She bobbed her head, and he drew the zipper down, slowly, one tooth at a time. She wanted to scream at him to hurry up but she didn’t want to rush this incredible feeling. It had never been like this, never. When he was done, he tucked his hands inside her jeans and pushed them down until they sat on her hips.
“Good God.” Jeremy’s voice rolled over her, raw and potent. “These are some seriously wicked panties, kitten.”
They were. When her divorce was final, she’d thrown away all the sedate, boring bras and panties she’d worn as a married woman and had indulged in a trip to the lingerie store at the mall. She’d spent a ridiculous amount of money on them, but they made her feel good.
He turned her all the way around in a circle and hissed. “A thong? Do you dress like this all the time?” She opened her mouth to speak but he cut her off. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. I need to be able to focus when I’m on duty.”
Instead of hurrying, he took his time, lowering her jeans in tiny increments, following the path of his hands with his lips until her pants and his mouth reached her ankles, and then he helped her step out of them. She stood there, then, in sexy bra and matching panties. And socks with Christmas lights on them. He looked down at her feet, and then at her, eyebrow raised, humor on his face. “Another hush-hush thing for the rabbi?”
She grinned. “Yes, please. They were a gift from one of my troubled students, and he asked me to please wear them on Christmas Day. I told him if he passed his test, I would. He did, but I’m ashamed to admit I forgot yesterday, so I wore them today.”
She should’ve been embarrassed standing in front of Jeremy wearing almost nothing, but she wasn’t. She didn’t have the body she wanted, but he truly didn’t seem to mind. He kept touching her and looking at her as though he wanted to eat her up. The more he touched her, the more restless she became. His lazy, unhurried touches turned into lingering kisses and licks and nips that made her shake with need. Her skin felt tight, her nipples tighter. She tried to arch into his hand as it passed over her breast again, but he pulled it away. She grew hot all over and a small moan escaped. “Jeremy, please!”
* * *
Jeremy would’ve grinned but the effort would cost him. He was holding on to his control by a thread, and a fraying one at that. “You taste and feel so damn good, kitten.”
She whimpered.
“I can’t wait to fuck you, kitten, to have my cock deep inside you. If it’s too soon, tell me now.”
She threw her head back as he bit her hip. “Not too soon, not too soon, not too soon. Please!”
The last thread of his sanity snapped, but before he could sweep her off her feet and onto the bed, the kitchen timer went off. Saved by the bell, or damned by it? It was harder than it should’ve been, but he gentled his strokes and tried to ease the burn back to simmer. For her, and for himself. “We need to check on the food.”
“W-what?”
Her eyes were dazed and confused, and goose bumps dusted her skin. She was trembling, and with his own none-too-steady hand, he drew her out of the corner and pulled her in for a tight hug. “The food, kitten. Timer went off.”
The noise that came from her throat was thoroughly disgruntled. “Unbelievable,” she muttered.
He smiled into her hair despite his own rampant frustration. He knew exactly how she felt, but they had time. All night long, after they ate. With her hand tucked into his, he drew her toward the door. “Come on. Let’s go check on it.”
The almost-fucked look fled from her eyes to be replaced with dismay, and she yanked her hand from his, gesturing at her body. “Like this?”
He looked down at her, sweater open over her bra, barely covering her torso, not at all covering her ass. “Hmm, you’re right. You have too much on. Take off the sweater.” Panic flashed across her face and he almost relented, but then he remembered her comment about wanting to see what it was like to live in his world. He sharpened his voice. “Take it off, kitten.”
She looked at him with solemn eyes for what seemed like an hour but was probably only a few long seconds. “I can say red for this if I want to?”
His heart twisted. She’d said earlier she trusted him, but theory was often different from practice. He reached out and touched her cheek lightly “You can always say red, kitten. No matter what we’re doing, and at any point.”
“Okay.” Before he could say anything else, she stripped off her sweater, holding it awkwardly in her hands.
Suddenly he found it hard to swallow. So much trust there in those big brown eyes. So much courage, considering what her ex had done to her. He’d take himself right the hell out of her life if what he wanted from her took that away. Her heart and soul were fragile, and he never wanted to be the cause of injury to either. The weight of that was nearly crushing.
He cleared his throat and swept his eyes from the tips of her toes all the way up to her pink cheeks, locking eyes with her. “Good girl. Put your sweater on the dresser, folded.”
She walked over to the dresser, giving him an unobstructed view of her ass. Christ almighty. Her cheeks were pale white, and he itched to see his palm-print there. Soon. Very, very soon.
He held out his hand and she took it, and they walked into the main room of the cabin together. Her eyes darted to the large wi
ndow over the deck, the one that looked out over the valley below. The curtains were wide open and it was darker now, turning the glass into more mirror than window. He drew her directly in front of it and turned her back to it. The path they’d walked earlier came up to the deck and then circled around the front of the cabin until it reached the other side of the deck and continued on, so the window was slightly visible for a short stretch before the path veered back into the woods.
Even though the park was just about deserted, he was being careful with Becca. The window was high enough that if someone stood on the deck, all they’d see was the back of her bra and her naked back. Her ass was below the window line. And if they saw her from either side of the path, they’d see almost nothing. Anyway, the chances of anyone walking by in the evening the day after Christmas were slim and none.
But she didn’t know that.
“Stay here, kitten.” He punctuated each word with a kiss. “I’m going to check on dinner. Be right back.”
“But Jeremy, what if—”
He cut her off with another kiss. “I’ll be right back. While I’m getting dinner together, I want you to think of one thing you’ve always wanted to try, one fantasy you’ve had that you’d like to bring to life. Just one.”
While he checked on the lasagna, he kept his eye on Becca. She was nervously shifting from foot to foot, but her mind was elsewhere. Somewhere very, very sexy if the flush across her chest was any sign.
He took the lasagna out of the oven and set it on the stovetop. “You warm enough?”
“I’m a little chilly, but—”
He didn’t wait to hear the rest. “That’s all I need to know.” She shot him a glare, which made him grin, but he hurried his plans along. He didn’t want her focused on being cold, so he grabbed one of the blankets from the back of the sofa and spread it on the floor in front of the fireplace. “C’mere, babe.”
He held out his hand and she walked toward him, looking elfishly sexy in her bra, panties and socks. He squeezed her hand and then drew her down to the floor, near the fire so she wouldn’t be cold. He kissed her forehead. “I’ll be right back.”
Quickly, he filled two bowls with premade salad mix, uncorked a bottle of wine, plated the lasagna and carried it all to the blanket. After turning off the overhead kitchen light, he joined her in front of the fire.
They were about six bites into their meals before she spoke. “Why did you make me stand in front of the window like that? Almost naked?”
He grinned and ate another bite. “Because I could. Because I wanted to see how far you’d follow my direction.”
A tiny frown creased her brow. “But I thought...never mind.”
“Oh, no you don’t. Finish that thought, please.” They had so much lost time to make up for, and he wanted to nip any misunderstandings right in the bud.
“I thought the control thing was only about sex.”
Ah. “I see what you’re getting at, and it is. But it’s just us here, alone, and things got pretty heated earlier. To me, this is one long foreplay session interrupted by dinner.” He lifted a shoulder.
She considered that for a moment, then nodded. “So why am I the only one undressed?”
“Because it’s my will, kitten. You wanted to know what it was like to submit to me. This is it.” His voice came out sharper than he’d intended, and she stiffened. “Fuck. I don’t mean it as if I think you’re doing anything wrong or whatever you’re feeling is wrong. I’m just saying that’s what I’m doing, showing you what I expect. When I say you give up control to me in the bedroom, I mean in any sexual situation. And for me, this is a sexual situation. This whole trip is, whether we’re here in the cabin alone, out on the trail, or even at an overlook.”
Her eyes grew wary. “What if we were at a party? Would you tell me what to do there, and expect me to follow your orders?”
Well, shit. He understood why she was asking the question, but that one was a hard one. “It would depend on the kind of party. A family party? Or something at work, either yours or mine? No. A party where there were other people involved in the same kind of relationships? Maybe. But if you’re asking me if I would do any of this to embarrass you, the answer is no. I’m not into humiliation.” She got quiet, and he worried maybe he’d taken things a bit too far.
“Sam was.”
Fuck. He set his plate on the table behind him and moved close to Becca, pulling her into his arms. “He embarrassed you in public?”
She shuddered and nodded. “The last couple of years we were together, I couldn’t seem to do much of anything right. Sometimes he gave me grief about how I looked, but mostly about how I acted. He kept telling me I wasn’t a good Jewish wife.”
He ground his back teeth together as he realized why his nice Jewish girl comment had thrown her. “I’m sorry if anything I did today brought that up. If something makes you uncomfortable, physically or emotionally, you need to use your safe word. This is why they exist, and I need to be able to trust you to use it.”
She leaned into him, sighing deeply. “You didn’t. And I know. I just asked those questions because I wanted to know. Another of my character flaws, according to Sam. Too many inane questions.”
Christ, all he wanted was ten minutes alone with the bastard. Just ten fucking minutes. He could do a hell of a lot of damage in ten minutes. “No such thing as too many questions, or the wrong questions,” he chided. “You’re a teacher. You know that.”
She shifted out of his arms. “Intellectually, I know that. But...”
“Yeah.” He grimaced, thinking back. “It’s not quite the same thing, but people always assumed I was a bad kid. Other people’s opinions can dig their claws in, so I bought into it and I lived up to that reputation.” A half laugh slipped out. “Or down to it. Anyway, yeah, I know what you mean.”
“That’s exactly what I meant.” She reached out and squeezed his hand. “Thanks for sharing that with me.”
He picked up his plate and started eating again, and so did she. They talked of small things, her classes and his job, until they were done with their meals.
He carried everything to the small sink and set them to soak, and when he turned back toward Becca, he found her stretched out on her stomach on the floor facing the fire, her chin propped in her hands and her sock-clad feet in the air, crossed at the ankles.
So sweet, so innocently sexual it punched his arousal back into high gear. And so damned hot he figured the image would be burned into his brain forever.
He wanted her. And he wanted her now.
Chapter Nine
“Christ, babe. You’re sexy as hell, especially in front of the fire like that. Good thing we’re not at a club. I’d be fighting other guys off.”
She swiveled her head at his words and looked up at him, captivated by the intense look on his face. While he grabbed a few pillows from the sofa and tossed them onto the floor, she shifted onto her knees, facing him. With a quick twist of his arms, he pulled his sweater off. Underneath, he was wearing a tight black T-shirt that hugged his torso. He unbuckled the black leather belt and pulled it free from his black jeans.
Her throat went dry. Good God, he was hot. Had it only been a day and a half since she’d told him she was single? Things had moved fast, fast enough to make her dizzy, but in a good way.
“Stay right where you are,” he ordered. And it was an order, no doubt. One that set her heart fluttering.
She stayed right there on her knees, wondering what he had planned for her, but she didn’t have to wonder long.
He squatted down behind her, leaned forward and set his teeth against her shoulder and neck. He loved doing that to her, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him no. It felt so damn good. He took his time, trailing his fingers down her arms, touching them and kissing them and licking them. She stared into the fire and just felt, her head falling back as he discovered a particularly sensitive spot on her elbow. She allowed her mind to drift off to that question he�
�d asked her, the one about the one fantasy she’d love to make come true. He didn’t know it, but he’d already done that. He was doing it right now, touching her with sexual purpose, not out of a sense of duty but because he wanted to. Because, if she believed him, he’d wanted to for five long years.
She felt warm leather sweep around one of her wrists and then her arms were tugged behind her back. She flexed a bit but they were bound together. She licked her lips even as her heart sped up.
“You okay?” He spoke in her ear, his breath whispering against her skin.
“I...yes.”
His hands trailed over her hips, resting there lightly. “Spread your knees for me, kitten.”
She did, and then she started shaking. She tried to figure out how she felt, but she couldn’t. Not embarrassed. Not nervous, exactly. It came to her then, and a rush of heat flooded her.
Anticipation.
She wanted this, but she wanted it only from him. She couldn’t imagine trusting anyone else like she did Jeremy. Her ultimate fantasy was this, on her knees for him, at his mercy, taking whatever he decided to give her, hoping it was everything she’d always wondered about.
He moved a pillow in front of her and then guided her forward, one hand warm against her back, the other still on her hip steadying her. “I want you to put your head on the pillow, babe.”
She did that too, even though her ass was in the air now, right in front of him. The thought only made her crave him even more.
“Perfect.” There was a beat of silence, and a low, muttered curse. “Utterly perfect.”
And then, for a minute or thirty, his hands were everywhere, absolutely everywhere except right between her legs at her core. He touched her hips, her thighs, played with the thong resting between her cheeks. When he was done touching, he started tasting, licking her and biting her lightly until she couldn’t hold back anymore.
“Please. I need... I want... Oh, God.”
Matzoh and Mistletoe Page 9
