Page 18 of Sexy Claus

His leisurely in-and-out glide matched the slide of his tongue with hers. The coordinated dance made the world fall away, lifting her to a new plane of existence. He combed his fingers through her hair and caressed her cheek with calloused fingertips, touching and loving her like his sole purpose was to bring her pleasure. Her mind cleared and her body floated on a cloud of utter decadence and euphoria.

She let her hands wander over the contours of his muscled arms and back, certain she could die the most sexually satisfied woman in the world right here, right now.

Then his lips grazed her jaw and his rough exhales bathed her neck in warmth. He didn’t speak, but she didn’t need words or promises, only this union.

After another restrained rock of his hips, a pained growl brought an end to the measured pace he’d set. “I can’t… I need to… Hold on to me.”

His warning didn’t prepare her for the sudden barrage of sensations that flooded her nerve endings. Each thrust carried her higher than the one before, sending her heart, body, and soul into freefall. A guttural roar echoed off the walls as he stiffened above her and throbbed inside her.

Her pulse thumped in her ears, telling her she was more alive than she’d ever felt before.

He dropped to his elbows, blanketing her with his body, anchoring her with his weight. The steady pressure calmed her racing heartbeat, but doubts and warnings invaded her thoughts.

“You’re thinking too loud.” His gruff comment sparked a tiny surge of guilt. He shifted to his side and then onto his back, taking her with him. Somehow, he managed to keep them from falling off the bed. His partially deflated erection had slipped free during their rearrangement, and the loss was profound. Guiding her head to his chest, he tugged the comforter overtop of her. Despite having his arms around her and the leveling heartbeat in her ear, tension rolled off of him in massive waves. “I can’t stay. Brenna might need me and she’ll want to know what took so long as it is.”

“It’s fine.” She didn’t expect anything from him because they’d had sex—not promises, not commitments, or even an offer to do it again. Emotional involvement and expectations weren’t part of the unspoken agreement.

“I hate that word.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed each finger. “Will you have supper with me tomorrow?”

More than a little relieved to already have plans, she sent up a silent thank-you to his daughter for roping her into playing Mrs. Claus. “I’ll be busy all day tomorrow.”

Why did the truth seem like an excuse?

“Oh. Okay.” He sounded disappointed, but she refused to let her guilty conscience make her do something stupid. “I want to see you again, in case I wasn’t clear about that. Tonight wasn’t about getting naked with you.”

She rolled out of his arms and sat on the edge of the bed with her back to him. The urge to escape hit much quicker than usual. “I’m leav—”

“I’m asking you to stay, at least long enough to give us a chance.” The bed shifted behind her, but he didn’t touch her. “Bee’s mother was the first woman I was with after you. I thought I could find someone else. Not even a month into dating, she said I was emotionally unavailable and dumped me. Two years after you went away, I still couldn’t move on from you. I’m older now, but wiser remains to be seen since I plan to fight for you this time if I have to.”

His declaration hung in the air between them, inciting panic, fear, hope, and too many other reactions to process.

She hunched her shoulders, wishing she could disappear. Hiding her true self had become second nature, and he’d somehow cut through the façade without her realizing it.

The rustle of clothes was punctuated by a sigh. Then footsteps trudged toward the hall and a door clicked shut. The muffled shoosh of water followed, suggesting he’d gone to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and get dressed.

Goosebumps nudged her into motion, and she quickly donned her flannel pajamas and fluffy robe. As she slid her bare feet into her slippers, the heavy tread of boots broke the silence. Fighting her heart’s desire to turn around, she focused on gathering her clothes from the floor.

In her peripheral vision, he loomed in the bedroom doorway. “Being in this house and going through your father’s things has to be tough, but I’m here if you want to talk and if you’re ready to tell me why you needed to get out. Day or night. I’ll see you soon, I hope.”

His gentle voice tempted her to look up at him, but she didn’t trust herself to stick to her resolve. “Nothing has changed.”

“Everythinghas changed.” His frustrated tone battered the walls she’d reconstructed. “He’s dead. He can’t treat you like you don’t exist anymore. And I’m still here. You matter, Christy. You’ve always mattered to me. Doesn’t that count for something?”

Unshed tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away. “You don’t understand.”

“No, I don’t understand why you—”

“I just can’t.” She wrapped her arms around herself, in hopes of holding the pieces together. “Please go.”

“For now. I’ll wait on the porch for you to lock up behind me.” The purposefulthud,thud,thudof him walking away hammered at her intent to keep her distance.

Having sex with him had been a mistake, whether her body thought so or not.

She waited until his footsteps ended and a clunk sounded to follow him. Armed with a tissue to combat the wetness trying to leak onto her cheeks, she shuffled to the living room. The ancient floor lamp beside the old recliner flickered and went out a few steps from her destination.

Of course, the bulb burns out now.

Sven’s face came into focus through the six-pane window in the door. He frowned and his eyebrows dipped toward his nose, but he didn’t move.

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