Get a friggin grip, Neve. It was one kiss and you’re making out like he showed you the secret of eternal life.
“You know, I’m not buying your ‘I don’t have time for people’ story,” she said, hoping he’d let the change of topic slide. She picked up a card and tucked it into her hand. “I think that’s a convenient excuse.”
“It’s convenient because it’s true.”
“So it’s nothing to do with self-preservation?”
For a moment she thought she’d gone too far, but he simply watched as she played her turn.
“I’m not cut out for relationships,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Look at what I did to my own sister.”
“She never said that anything specific happened between you two.”
The lines deepened around the corners of his dark eyes and he rubbed the shadow of stubble along his jaw. “It wasn’t one thing. But the straw that broke the camel’s back was when she decided to fix this place up. She wanted to change things and I lost it at her.”
“But she said you never visited.”
“Exactly. I refused to come here and yet I hated the fact she wanted to change it. I told her she mustn’t care that our parents were dead if she wanted to erase their favorite place in the world.”
Neve cringed. “Ouch.”
“It was a dick thing to say and I didn’t mean it. I just…didn’t know what else to do.” He sighed. “She stopped calling after that. I thought there was too much water under the bridge so we’ve been at a stalemate for months now. And then I lost the case and I was furious because I feel like work is the only thing I have left.”
“Is that why you come here?”
“I thought it might give me some perspective.”
Her heart squeezed. He must have felt like he had nowhere else to go, no one to turn to except the ghosts of his past. “A job can’t be your whole life.”
“But it is.”
“Don’t you think your father would want more for you than this?”
A sound rumbled in the back of his throat but no words came.
“He’d want you to be happy.”
“I don’t know how to do that.” His words were heavy, weighted with complicated and messy emotions. “It’s been so long. Even Annabel…”
“She’ll forgive you. Maybe not right away, but she’ll come around.”
“I don’t expect her to forgive me.”
Neve looked at their cards, abandoned on the table and took a sip of her drink. “You know, if being hard on yourself was a competitive sport I’d put my money on you.”
“Are you the gambling type?” He pushed up from his chair and came around to her side of the table.
“I guess I am. I’ve taken my share of risks over the years.”
With him standing and her sitting, he seemed even bigger and more powerful. She reached out and traced a frayed patch of denim over his thigh. Hard muscle twitched beneath her fingertip.
He caught her hand and kissed the center of her palm. His tongue flickered out against her sensitive skin, jacking up her pulse. It was such a simple gesture, but he managed to fill it with simmering heat.
“Maybe you could help me with that,” he said, leaning forward.
“Taking risks?”
“Yeah.” He took her thumb between his lips and sucked, the pressure of his tongue sending arousal spiraling through her.
“What kind of risk do you want to take?” The words didn’t sound like her own; they were ragged and uneven. Raw.
Last night’s dream swirled in her mind, mingling with the memory of his lips on hers. She clamped her thighs together, trying to quell the insistent throbbing there. But it had been so long since she’d allowed herself any sexual gratification. Even this morning, she had dipped her hands between her legs for just a second before denying herself. Now, she craved him like a flower craves sunlight.
“How about a personal risk?” His hands were at her thighs, his thumbs rubbing insistent circles higher and higher until they brushed the edge of her shorts. “A sexy personal risk?”
What about tomorrow? Her worries from earlier were drowning under his sensual assault, the protests fizzling out like dead fireworks. How could something that already felt so good be bad for her?
When his thumbs brushed just under the hem of her shorts, grazing the edge of her panties, she gasped. “I might be able to help you.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
He hauled her to her feet, pinning her against the table. There was no time to react, not when his hands were already in her hair. His fingers stroking her skin, his lips possessing hers.
Their breath came hard and fast, mingling together as they kissed. The gentle slide of his tongue stole the breath right from her lungs and her body did everything it could to be joined to him. She shifted, lifting one leg over his hip so that the heat of her sex lined up with the hard length of his erection. She moaned, her hips circling low and slow against him.
“God, Neve,” he moaned into her mouth. “That feels incredible.”
“Thank you Captain Obvious,” she said, a laugh bubbling up as she circled her hips again.
“Keep that up,” he threatened, running his hands down her back to cup her ass and hold her firm against him.
“Or what?” She nipped at his lips, his jaw.
“You’ll regret ever saying I don’t know how to play the long game.”
Damian didn’t know what was going on. It was like he was a pendulum swinging from one extreme to the other. Thoughts swirled in his head, colliding with memories and fears. With protests. But his body was aching for her, his hands couldn’t be full enough of her.
He wanted nothing more than to throw Neve down on the table and bury himself in her over and over and over. She made him feel good, and not just because she rubbed herself against him in a way that was totally fucking hot. But because she was compassionate, fiercely so.
“Long game?” she scoffed, tugging at the hem of his T-shirt and running her hands up his chest. “You won’t last five minutes.”
“Watch me,” he growled. “I’m going to make you wait so long you’ll beg me to let you come.”
He lifted her and she squealed, wrapping her legs around him. Sweeping his other hand across the table, the cards went flying. He shoved the glasses out of the way and laid her down. Her glossy hair spilled around her and her chest rose and fell with her quickened breath.
“I thought I said no fifty-two pickup.” Her eyes glinted and a wicked smile curved on her lips.
“You can punish me later.” His hands were at her shorts, fumbling with them until a roar of frustration surged through him and he sent the buttons skittering across the table.
He tugged the fabric down her legs. Soon, her T-shirt and bra followed leaving her in a pair of blue cotton panties. She didn’t try to cover herself, instead she stretched languidly. Arching her back off the table and thrusting her small, pink-tipped breasts in the air.
“Temptress,” he said, coming down over her and taking one in his mouth. Her skin was sweet and smooth, her nipple hard as he rolled it against his tongue.
Her hand fisted in his hair, tugging him so hard pain snapped against his scalp. He returned in kind, scraping his teeth over the peak of her breast and eliciting a gasp from her.
“Gentle,” she admonished, but she yanked his head to her other breast with a force that belied her words. He laved her skin, sucking and nipping and tugging until pink marks peppered her skin. Her hands clawed at him, trying to divest him of his clothes. “You need to get rid of these now.”
He didn’t hesitate. The T-shirt came off in one fluid motion and he pushed down his shorts and jocks together. Heat swelled within him as her eyes took him in, slowly and languidly as though she wanted to savor the moment.
Reaching out, she caught the head of his cock with her fingertips and his whole body tensed, the muscles in his shoulders bunching up around his neck as he tried to co
ntrol the excitement racing through him.
He’d talked big game about making her beg, but right now he could burst. Stepping out of her reach, he lowered his head to her stomach. Her skin was hot against his cheek, but smooth—the opposite of his stubble-roughened jaw.
The gentle pressure of her hand against his head told him what she wanted. His lips blazed a trail down to her underwear and he pressed a chaste kiss over the cotton. They were soaked and he breathed in the scent of her, musky and inviting.
“Please, Damian,” her voice trembled as he nuzzled the sensitive spot at the apex of her sex.
He had an ounce of control left—a mere thread—but he was going to use it to draw out her pleasure. His tongue flicked over her, soaking the cotton further until it revealed her contours.
“Please…” The rest of her words dissolved into garbled pleasure sounds as he drew the underwear down her legs and blew against her heated skin. Goosebumps rippled across the skin on her thighs and stomach. “Oh god, Damian.”
Every inch of her sex was smooth and he couldn’t hold back anymore, he wanted her orgasm on his tongue. As he sucked at her most sensitive part, her thighs clamped around his head and her hips bucked. She came hard against his mouth. When the tremors subsided her legs fell away and her fingers moved from tugging to something far softer.
“Merry Christmas to you, too,” she said, her breathing shallow.
A laugh rumbled deep in his chest. “How’s that for a little holiday magic?”
“Hmmmm.” She reached for him lazily. “I certainly saw lights.”
Running his hands under the hollow of her back, he lifted her up and she wound her arms around his neck. His length brushed against the underside of her thigh with each step as he moved them to his bedroom. If he didn’t have her soon he was going to burst.
They landed in a tangle of limbs and he had to tear himself away to dig out the emergency condom from his wallet.
“Hurry up.” She writhed on the bed as he tore the foil and rolled the rubber down his length.
“Who’s not playing the long game now?” he teased, taking his sweet time and enjoying the flare of her pupils as she watched him handle himself.
His pulse raced. Damn, she excited him. She made his blood rush in his ears and heart pound heavy and hard in his chest. He had to hold back the desire to race to the finish line, especially since she was teasing him about that very thing.
“Oh, I want to play the long game.” Her hand stretched out and he slid his cock into her palm. “Hmm, yes. That’s pretty long.”
“Naughty girl.” He jerked as she gave him a squeeze. “You’re going to give me a run for my money, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” Her blue eyes sparkled mischievously. “And you’ll love it.”
The bed shifted as he knelt between her legs, spreading her apart with his hands. The smokiness in her eyes urged him on, he was desperate to hear her moan again. To feel her clench around him as he took her. His skin tingled. He felt so…alive.
“No more waiting.” Her legs came around his waist, her ankles crossing behind his back.
No. He wouldn’t wait a second longer.
He pressed against the entrance to her sex, waiting for her to shift into position before he pushed inside. Holy hell, she was tight. Her hot muscles clamped around him as he buried himself to the hilt.
“Oh, Damian,” she sighed. “You feel so good.”
“So do you.” His face pressed against the sweet curve of her neck as he gave her a moment to adjust to him. “You feel so fucking good. So tight. So perfect.”
She urged him on by rolling her hips and meeting him thrust for thrust. Their bodies fused together, he slid his arms under her, pressing her to him so that no air could get between them. He had to be as close to her as possible.
“Yes.” She arched in his arms, her head lolling on the pillow as she rubbed against him.
He could feel her orgasm gathering up, tightening her, tensing her. The second she broke, it pushed him over and he pounded into her, eyes clamped shut, until he found his release deep inside her.
After, when Neve had slumped against him and pressed her face to the base of his neck, he felt incredibly at ease. Peaceful, even. What he been missing all this time was human contact. Being surrounded by people in the office and saying hello to his neighbors were not the same as opening up to someone. Connecting on a level deeper than social politeness and shared proximity.
And it was Neve who’d given him what he hadn’t even known he was missing.
Her family had always believed in the magic of Christmas, and Neve was starting to see why. She lay on the couch with Damian, her head resting against his chest and her belly full of the delicious pasta they’d cooked together. Carbohydrates were important, she’d come to understand, to sustain marathon sex sessions. And after they’d made love the first time, they’d napped, woken and he’d made her come twice more before they’d taken to the shower for another round.
Now the lights were back on and they watched the Christmas tree flickering a rainbow tune from under a lightweight blanket, Tilly curled up at their feet.
For someone determined to spend the holidays alone and in reflection, she felt strangely comforted and clear-headed. Turned out, sex was quite the stress-relieving activity. Who knew?
Her father had given her some advice before she left—be safe and make some memories, he’d said, do what makes you happy.
This probably wasn’t what he’d had in mind. Still, helping Damian wade through his problems had led her to one conclusion: the past couldn’t hurt her. What was done was done. All this time she’d been chasing clues to find the whereabouts of the mother who didn’t want her, when she had a family at home who did.
They’d loved her enough to let her go, to let her be herself. Falsely, she’d thought that in order to understand where she’d come from she would need to know her mother. But her focus had been wrong. The important stuff was the here and now, the present.
Damian stroked her hair absently, the silence between them peaceful and easy. Tilly shifted and he laughed.
“My feet are going to sleep,” he said. “I’m going to have serious pins and needles when she decides to move.”
“And you think you can’t do relationships,” she said. “You love that dog like crazy.”
“I do.” He planted a kiss on Neve’s forehead. “She’s an awesome dog.”
“I’ve come around to that.” Her hands brushed Tilly’s soft fur and the dog rolled over to expose her belly. “Look at that level of trust.”
“If you rub her belly, she’ll love you forever.”
“I think I can handle that.”
A pause filled the air and Neve found herself wondering what would happen when their bubble burst. Judging by the way the storm had petered out, the roads would be cleared and she could be on her way tomorrow. But she wasn’t eager to retreat to the hotel now that there was something developing between them, something unexpected and wonderful. Something she wanted to explore.
Still, their time together had an expiration date. She had to get back to her family and make up for lost time by showing them how much she appreciated them. Between Nate’s engagement, her father and stepmother renovating their family home and her girlfriends building their lives in Kite Harbor, she’d already missed so much.
Taking for granted the things that other people—like Damian—didn’t have, stopped now.
“My dad would have liked you,” he said out of nowhere.
She swallowed, keeping her face tucked against his chest so he couldn’t see just how much that statement made her feel warm and fuzzy inside. “Yeah?”
“He liked people who didn’t shy away from difficult things. He always said people who have a bit of fire inside them would survive anything.”
“I see that fire in you. Look at what you do for a living. It wouldn’t be possible to continually fight those battles without some inner fire.” She traced circles on his a
rms with her fingertip. “You’ll figure out what to do with your work.”
He nodded. “I’ll fight for those people. I have to make it right.”
Damian sounded like a changed man. Sure, the issues of him facing his grief and re-finding his place in the world wouldn’t disappear overnight—possibly not ever—but his bleakness had evaporated.
“And you’re going to patch things up with your family?” he prompted.
Neve could see them now—her easy-going father, her caring stepmother and her protective older brother—there wasn’t a doubt in her mind they’d be happy to have her home. Only time would tell how they’d react to her confession about finding her mother, especially Nate. But she wanted to start things off on a clean slate, get back to having them in her life and cherishing those precious years while that they were all still alive and well.
“I don’t need to patch anything up,” she said. “They’ll welcome me home with open arms, and I’m never going to take that for granted ever again.”
But where does that leave us?
The question hovered on her tongue but she couldn’t ask it. It would be a rabbit hole to nowhere…and she was done chasing things that didn’t exist. But that was part of the problem, a kernel of something did exist between her and Damian. Certainty had solidified deep down in her gut. She couldn’t label it, couldn’t give it a name or a value.
She also couldn’t deny its existence.
That didn’t change the fact that her family was back in Kite Harbor and his career was here. His life was here. The feelings were right but the timing was all kinds of wrong, and she wouldn’t abandon her family again.
The next morning, Damian woke as the sun filtered in through a gap in the curtains. The warbled cry of a magpie cut through the morning air, pulling him further out of slumber and closer to the real world. Something he wasn’t sure he was ready to face.
There was no more rain. No more storm. A beam of buttery morning sunlight stretched across the bed, highlighting the fine hairs on Neve’s arm. Her light snore soothed him, as did the way she’d curled into his side and had thrown a slim thigh over his hips as if claiming him. Marking her territory.
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