Holiday Hideout: The Thanksgiving Fix / The Christmas Set-Up / The New Year's Deal. Jill Shalvis
Comfy?”
“I’m a little…tense.”
“I can tell.”
“Don’t move yet.” Her breasts tantalized him, but if he touched her, he’d go off like a rocket, so he contented himself with admiration.
The light from the kitchen outlined her in gold, giving her an angelic glow. Her face was in shadow, but he caught a lustful gleam in her eyes that hinted she was no angel. He was grateful for that, too.
She held still as he’d requested, although her breasts trembled from her rapid breathing. She might be a little tense, herself. He hoped so. He wanted to make her come again before he lost control.
She cleared her throat. “Sitting by the fire is nice, but this…is nicer.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Maybe next time we can do both.”
“Both?” His brain wasn’t functioning at all.
“Sex by the fire.”
“Oh. I’d like that.” Now, there was the understatement of the century. He desperately wanted to touch her. Focusing all his energy on not coming, he bracketed her hips with both hands and groaned at how soft her skin felt beneath his fingertips. “You’re beautiful.”
“Can I move now?”
“In a minute.” Sliding his hands over her hips to her waist, he stroked upward to cup her breasts. His climax hovered nearer as he brushed his thumbs over her nipples. “So beautiful.”
Her smooth channel contracted, squeezing his cock, and he gasped.
“Couldn’t stop myself.” She leaned closer, pushing her breasts into his palms as she dropped a featherlight kiss on his lips. “I can’t hold back anymore. I have to move.”
His heartbeat thundered in his ears. “Go for it.”
She began slowly, lifting and lowering her hips in a gentle rhythm, her breath warm on his face. He felt his control slipping as he rose to meet her next stroke and the soft bedspread moved sensuously beneath him. She moaned and increased the pace, her sleek bottom slapping his thighs in a staccato beat guaranteed to send him into orbit.
She cried out, and he abandoned all restraint, surging upward as his orgasm vibrated through him with the force of a jackhammer. The intensity of it consumed him, blocking out everything else.
But as awareness gradually returned, he discovered Beth snuggled against his chest and his arms wrapped protectively around her. She didn’t seem to mind. It was a start.
Beth rubbed her cheek against his chest. “Mmm. Your hair feels good.”
“Now, there’s a compliment I don’t get every day.”
“And I don’t give it every day. Some guys have too much chest hair and some don’t have enough. Yours is just right.”
He smiled. “That sounds like a line from ‘The Three Bears.’”
“You mean the story of Goldilocks, child vandal?” She lifted her head and propped it on her fist so she could look at him.
He laughed. “Guess so.”
“Now, I ask you, what sort of message does that send? Hey, kids, it’s okay to walk into a house uninvited, eat the food and break up the furniture before crawling into someone else’s bed.”
He combed her hair back from her face. “I take it you won’t be reading that story to your kids?”
“Not without some discussion, I won’t. Those bears should have pressed charges for breaking and entering.”
He brushed his knuckles over her soft cheek. She was exactly the sort of spirited woman he’d been looking for all his life…and she wanted nothing to do with a permanent relationship. “I certainly see your point. When you put it that way, Goldilocks isn’t quite so cute, is she?”
“Definitely not. And while we’re on the subject of damaging reading material, what about Hansel and Gretel? Their parents were going to kill them, so they ran away and got caught by a witch who planned to eat them. No wonder kids have nightmares!”
“I’m glad your kids won’t be exposed to that horrible stuff,” he said, partly to see how she’d react.
“That’s if I ever have any, which doesn’t seem likely. But if I did, I wouldn’t read them fairy tales without talking about the subtext.”
“Good for you.” He pulled her down for a quick kiss. At least she hadn’t proclaimed she’d never have kids. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to make a quick trip to the bathroom.”
“And I’ll bet you’re hungry.”
“Come to think of it, I am.” He hadn’t realized it until this very minute. “In fact, I’m starving. What have you got that we could cook up in a hurry?”
“Eggs.”
“Great—omelets.” He left the bed and headed for the bathroom.
“Can you make an omelet?” she called after him.
“No,” he called back. “Can you?”
“No. I thought all bachelors could whip up an omelet. They always do that in the movies.”
“Well, this isn’t a movie.”
“No kidding. Guess we’ll have to make do with scrambled. But I’m not very good at that, either.”
He chuckled. “Meet me in the kitchen in five minutes. We’ll figure this out together.” Damn, but he was having fun. Beth was good company, both in bed and out of it.
As he washed up and walked into the empty bedroom in search of his clothes, he thought about that. Without the pressure of a potential commitment, Beth was free to be totally herself. She could be as sexual as she wanted, rant about her least favorite fairy tales and admit she couldn’t make an omelet.
She was being totally honest with him. He felt a stab of guilt, because he wasn’t being totally honest with her. He’d allowed her to go on thinking they were a two-person army battling society’s preoccupation with marriage.
And at the moment he was AWOL from that army. Listening to Beth rummaging around in the cupboards, he couldn’t imagine anything nicer than sharing kitchen duties with her for the rest of his life.
But if he told her that, he’d risk destroying the easy camaraderie between them. She might even ask him to leave and he’d never see her again. He wasn’t sure he’d come away from that in one piece emotionally. What a mess. For now, he’d better keep his damn mouth shut.
CHAPTER FIVE
WRAPPED IN HER FAVORITE white terry bathrobe, her sock-monkey slippers on her feet, Beth pulled out a carton of eggs from the refrigerator. It was also her only carton of eggs. If Mac was starving, most of them would soon be cracked into a frying pan, leaving her short for future breakfasts.
But after a romp like the one they’d just had, who cared? She’d worry about the food supply later. Maybe they’d have chips and dip for breakfast. She’d brought those, too, because she hardly ever allowed herself that kind of snack, and this long weekend had been about indulging her private pleasures. Little had she known…
Sex with Mac had been beyond incredible, the kind of sex she used to dream of having back in the days when she still thought Mr. Right would show up. Maybe that had been the problem. Two people couldn’t have great sex if they were both auditioning for a future partner. Because she and Mac were free of those expectations, they could simply enjoy each other.
Opening cupboard doors, which she now appreciated even more knowing Mac’s capable hands had done the refinishing, she located a medium-size bowl and a frying pan. The frying pan was stainless steel instead