Kissing Under the Mistletoe

Her hands reached out as if she needed to hold onto something and ended up pressed flat against the cool lake-blue tiles. "Stay just like that," he encouraged her, loving the way she sucked in a shaky breath at his words.

Slowly, he began to run the bar of soap across her shoulders, her upper back, then down to the perfect indentation of her waist, just above the sweet flare of her gorgeous hips. Her body was a miracle, soft where a woman should be soft, full where a woman should be full, and strong in a way he hadn’t known many women to be strong.

Not to mention her innate sensuality, powerful enough to nearly break a man who had never let himself come anywhere close to being broken by a woman before.

Her skin was smooth and perfect beneath his fingertips, and he was mesmerized by the way the bubbles slid across her curves. Temporarily putting down the soap, he cupped his hands to gather water and pour it over her.

When her soft moan reverberated off the tiled walls and floor, he did it again, only this time he spilled the water over the front of her shoulders, so that it trickled hot and lucky between her br**sts. She began to move away from the wall with the clear intention of wrapping herself around him, but he laid his hands flat over hers on the tiles to still her.

"Not yet, sweetheart. I’m not even close to getting you clean."

Enjoying her soft sound of frustration just as much as he had her moan of pleasure, he picked up the soap again and moved to press his erection against her hips, his chest to her back. Of course, she knew exactly how to get her revenge on him for making her be patient. She wiggled her sweet, round ass into him, making him throb so hard against her that he nearly lost it.

"Are you sure you want to play with me like that?" His low words held a clear, yet sensual, warning that she should be careful how far she pushed a man like him.

"God, yes."

It was what she’d said to him last night when he was teasing her, and as she wiggled herself against him again, Rafe lowered his cheek to the top of her wet hair and breathed in her fresh, clean scent, letting it fill him up.

A moment later, he was sliding both hands around to make soapy circles around her belly button. Only, how could he keep teasing her like this when it was just as much torture for him not to touch the rest of her?

Giving himself over to pleasure was so much easier. And better, too, as he began to soap up the heavy undersides of her br**sts.

"Please," she begged, even though he’d already dropped the soap so that he could pinch her erect ni**les between each thumb and forefinger.

"Shhh," he soothed against her earlobe before he nipped at it.

A hard shudder worked through her as he slid one hand back down to her belly, and then down lower still, until the damp curls between her legs were tickling his fingertips. They moved together in perfect sync, her legs opening wider just as his hand found her flesh slick and so damned hot that he didn’t have a prayer of holding back one more second.

He quickly spun her around and pressed her against the tiles with the weight of his body as he ripped open the condom, only stepping back enough from her luscious curves to shove the latex down over himself. And then he was lifting her up so that she was wrapping her arms and legs around him, and he was thrusting into her in one hard stroke that stole the breath from both their lungs.

She was small but strong as she pulled him closer. Every time they were together, he vowed to be more careful with her the next time. But need had him spiraling out of control again, and apart from protecting her soft curves and the back of her head with his hands against the tile, he couldn’t do a damned thing to stop himself from pounding into her, or from kissing her hard enough to bruise her lips.

Yet again, she surprised him not only by taking everything he gave her, but also by encouraging him to go further. Because instead of crying out at the rough way he was taking her with absolutely no finesse or gentleness at all, her soft laughter ricocheted through the shower. Even as her inner muscles tightened down around him and she used her strong thigh and arm muscles to work herself over him, the beautifully wild woman in his arms was not only smiling...she was actually laughing out loud with clear joy.

Every time she laughed, Rafe felt it in the center of his chest. But never more than now, when what should have been fast, furious lovemaking had turned into something else entirely. Something that eased the tightening in his chest even more than loving her had last night.

Before Brooke, sex had only been about momentary pleasure.

With Brooke, he finally realized how much joy there could be in it, too.

"I love the sound of your laughter," he told her, and he was smiling, too, as he covered her mouth with his. He was amazed that even as laughter turned back to moans and gasps, the joy that she’d wrapped all around him never let go, not for one second.

When her body exploded in climax, Rafe didn’t have a prayer of holding back his own release. And why would he, when nothing had ever felt better than jumping off the edge with her?

They clung to each other for several minutes afterward as they both worked to catch their breath, and when he finally put her back down on her feet, she was grinning up at him.

"That was awesome!" She sounded just the way she had when they’d ridden his motorcycle into town, utterly exhilarated and thrilled by her discovery of what a rush speed could be.

Rafe agreed wholeheartedly—making love to her in the shower had easily been the most awesome moment of his life—but at the same time, he couldn’t push away another chorus of self-condemnation over the way he kept losing control with her.