Chasing Christmas Eve

She stared at him. “You remembered it word for word.”

His eyes were badass sexy as he let go of one of her hands to reach for the bow he’d just tied at her waist, slowly pulling on it until it gave. The robe loosened and her nipples went hard.

“Be sure, Colbie,” he said, his mouth against hers. “Be real sure.”

She slid her hands into his hair. Having this man inside her again? Knowing that these memories would have to keep her warm in the months ahead back in New York? She’d never been more sure of anything in her life. “One hundred percent,” she said and shrugged out of the robe, letting it fall to the floor.

“Oh, Colbie.” His voice was like velvet as he pulled her in closer, his hands skimming down her back to cup her ass. “Missed this.”

“It’s been like twenty-four hours.”

“Felt like a lifetime. You’re so warm and soft.”

“Soft?”

“It’s a good thing,” he murmured, dipping his head, letting his hot open mouth skim along her throat, her shoulder. “The very best thing. You’re gorgeous.”

She squirmed. “Are you going to talk all the way through this?”

He huffed out a soft laugh and took a bite of her shoulder. “Yeah. I think so. Look at you.” One big warm hand skimmed up her ribcage and cupped a breast. “You’re perfect.”

“Not . . . perfect,” she managed.

“Perfect to me.”

The words melted her. It was also hard to argue with him with his hands caressing her so deliberately. She was about three inches from coming and he hadn’t even lost his clothes yet.

That had to change and quick. She got his shirt open and shoved it off his broad shoulders so that she could touch him skin-to-skin. He shucked his pants and when he was as naked as she, he snaked an arm around her waist, lifting her up against him so that her legs could encircle his waist. Then he took them on the move.

“Where are we going?”

“My bed,” he said. “The bathroom counter isn’t going to do it for me.”

“Too hard?”

“Too cold.” He took a couple of long strides and threw them both onto the bed. “You’re not going to get cold on my watch,” he said in a thrillingly rough voice.

“No? What am I going to get?”

“Lucky. Very lucky.” He lowered himself over her until every part of them was touching and then finally, he kissed her. And not the light teasing kisses from before. This kiss was raw and shattering and intense, the kind of kiss that stopped hearts and melted brains, as his hands roamed her body, igniting fires everywhere they touched. He urged her thighs open, skimming a light touch over her heated flesh, and she nearly burst into flame right then.

“Spence.”

He slowed. Pulled back the heat with deliberate control and she almost cried. She tightened her hands into his hair and tried to direct him but he just gave a low knowing laugh.

He knew what he was doing, and then to prove it, he did it again, taking her to the very edge before pulling back.

“I hate you,” she finally gasped.

“No, you don’t. I’m heroic and gentlemanly,” he said, giving her back her own words.

Not that there was anything gentlemanly about what he was doing to her with his mouth. And especially when the more desperate she became, the more patient he became. He’d memorized her body, or so it seemed. He knew exactly where and how to touch her to make her putty in his hands. And where to not touch, apparently determined to make her beg to be finished off. “Son of a bumblebee, you’re missing on purpose!”

With a deep laugh, he dragged his mouth along her body again, slow, hot, deliberate kisses, his systematic torment of her body leaving her writhing against him until finally he let her go, let her come apart at the seams, shattering into a million pieces.

While she was still panting and staring up at the ceiling in shock at how out of control he’d had her, he crawled up her body and brought his lips back to hers.

“You still coherent?” he asked, pushing her hair off her damp forehead.

“No,” she said, gasping for air. “But don’t let that stop you.”

At some point he’d found a condom. Then the mouth that had just taken her to heaven slowly curved as he made himself at home between her legs, the question in his eyes.

Because she couldn’t speak, she nodded and tightened her grip on him. “Yes.” God, yes. Now. Yesterday. Tomorrow.

Always . . .

Shoving that thought deep, she gathered him into her arms, arching up to meet him halfway. He didn’t close his eyes and neither did she, so they stared at each other, their breath blending as he entered her.

“How about now,” he murmured. “Still with me now?”

“Stop asking questions and move!”

His shoulders shook with laughter, but he did as she asked. He moved. And sweet mother of pearl, how the man moved. In a shockingly short time, he had her crying out for him, sensation and emotions slamming blissfully together as their bodies did the same. And this time when she lost control, he finally did too.

After, when he went to shift his weight off her, she tightened her grip on him, not ready to let go yet. With a wordless comforting murmur, he slid an arm beneath her, rolling until he was on his back and she was all but poured over him.

Get up and go downstairs to your place, her brain said. Before you get used to this.

Oh please just one more minute, her body said.

And her body won.

Chapter 20

#SonOfABumblebee

Spence opened his eyes when Colbie’s phone went off with multiple texts in quick succession.

Facedown on his bed, sated and still panting, she just groaned. “I’m going to kill them,” she muttered into the mattress. “Unless they’re in jail. If they’re in jail, I’m going to leave them there.” She sighed. “But I really hope they’re not in jail.”

“Hey.” He turned her face to him, not liking the worry and guilt in her eyes. “They’re legal adults. For that matter, so is your mom. You’re not responsible for them.”

“I know. But it’s the life I’ve made. I take care of them. Always have.”

Ever since her dad had left. It was her ugly past rearing its head and oh how he understood that.

“Maybe it’s time to make a life for you,” he said.

She shrugged. “The thing is, when the writing’s good, I’m happy. I really don’t need much more than that. The truth is, I’m fine with my life because I’m naturally introverted and actually pretty boring.”

“Introverted, maybe a little. But boring?” Spence gently tugged on a loose wayward strand of her silky hair, dipping a little to look into her eyes. “Never.”

“I am,” she said on a laugh.

“Honey, the woman in my bed is the furthest thing from boring I’ve ever seen.”

She blushed a little. It was cute. She snorted too. Also cute. “That was all you,” she said, poking him in the chest.

“No.” He caught her hand. “I’ve been with just me.” He shook his head and laughed. “Trust me. You’re the necessary ingredient and wild card.” Utterly true. And something else he hadn’t seen coming—she’d distracted the hell out of him but he’d still managed to work, disproving his theory that he was all work and no play.

Which wasn’t even the biggest problem. Nope, that honor went to the fact that she was leaving soon, something he wasn’t ready to face.

Her gaze dropped to his mouth. “As it turns out,” she said softly, “you’re my necessary ingredient too. I’ve been writing like I haven’t been able to in . . . forever. You unblocked me.”

He smiled and lifted her onto his lap so that she was straddling him. “So I’m your muse, huh?”

She slid her fingers into his hair and he nearly purred like a cat. “It would seem,” she murmured.

“Well then, by all means feel free to use me anytime you need, creatively or otherwise,” he said.

She wriggled a little, giving out a soft hum of what he hoped was pleasure as she felt him harden beneath her. “Now?” she whispered, the excitement unmistakable in her voice.