Page 16 of Never Sleigh Never

“Thomas,” she moans, her voice strangled. “Please.”

I’m sweating, and I have never been as hard as I am right now. Sheer willpower is the only thing from keeping me from shifting and plunging deep into her. That and the fact I’m determined to make her come first because there’s no way in hell I’m lasting more than ten seconds once I’m buried deep.

Make that five. Because, still lapping at her clit, I push two fingers inside her entrance, thinking it will help satisfy her. Which it does. But her hot, tight channel clenches around my knuckles as she explodes, and the sensation is my undoing. That and the way her thighs are like a vise grip around my head, holding me against her, the tremors that roll through her body one after another milking what I’m giving her.

And it’s the most turned on I’ve ever been in my entire life. Until the pressure eases and she lifts her head, and I glance up to find her slack expression and those gorgeous emerald pupils dilated as she gazes down at me, and says, “You didn’t stop.”

Those three little words hit me like a ton of bricks. And I realize she’s right. It’s true. I didn’t stop. Because there was no way I could have. No way I’ll ever be able to when it comes to giving this woman anything and everything she wants. Forever.

I’m gone for her, but I can’t tell her that now. Maybe not ever. Because she’s justmaking the most of tonight. Which I’ll take if that’s all I’ll ever get. My heart pounds in my throat, and I can’t breathe. My chest is too tight, but rather than let on that anything’s wrong I pull a condom from the back pocket of my jeans and hold it up.

“Honey I’m just getting started.”

Cara

The crisp December morningair nips at my cheeks as I hurry up the steps of Magnolia Manor, the quaint bed-and-breakfast that Gabby, who comes from a luxury hotel family in New York City, tried to buy from Phillip even though it wasn’t for sale. But rather than sell, Phillip fell in love with the strawberry blonde spitfire—and she with him—and the rest, as they say, is history.

But on this Monday morning, my mind is as jumbled as a box of broken ornaments, sparked by memories of last night with Thomas I can’t seem to shake. Especially after he slipped away as if something was wrong after we banged it out.

I need to talk to Gabby. Now. Because I’m more confused than ever about my feelings for the rugged hardware store owner who may have rocked my world last night, but who took off faster than a sprinter when the gun sounds. The way his calloused hands felt sliding over my skin, how he kissed me like a starving man at a feast, the sounds he made when he—

I shake my head, trying to dislodge the vivid memories.Focus, Cara. He may have delivered the orgasms of your dreams, but you’re sworn off men. You told yourself it was just one night, not the first of forever.

The warm scent of cinnamon and freshly baked scones envelops me as I push the enormous front door of the inn open. Garlands of fragrant pine and twinkling white lights adorn the banister of the grand staircase. It’s picture-perfect, and for a moment, I pause to enjoy the beauty. And promptly forget why I’m here.

“Cara?” Phillip calls out from the parlor where he’s perched on a ladder, screwdriver in hand as he fiddles with a ceiling fan.

Oh, right. Gabby.

“Hi, Phillip,” I reply, glancing around for my best friend.

“Gabby had to run some items from the holiday tea into town, but she should be back any minute.”

“How was the tea? Everything go well?”

“It was a tea,” he replies, in typical Phillip fashion.

“You don’t mind if I wait for Gabby, do you?”

“Help yourself to coffee.” He dips his chin toward the breakfast spread. “Should still be hot.”

“Thanks,” I say, never one to turn down caffeine. I make my way to the coffee bar and fix myself a cup from the insulatedpot labeledChristmas Morning Blend. I shoot another glance at Phillip, the single dad who, not so long ago, I thought was the man for me. Sure, it stung when I realized he’d fallen for the city girl, and yeah, I may have jumped feet first into that fling with the smooth-talking billionaire Gabby’s father was trying to set her up with, but watching Phillip with his now wife, it’s clear things worked out exactly as they should have. Even though I’m still single.

“How’s Mia?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe and cupping the warm, fragrant mug in my palms. “I haven’t seen her lately.”

Phillip’s face softens at the mention of his daughter even as he grunts, trying to loosen a stubborn screw. “Just earned her green belt last week. You’d think she could take on a grizzly bear the way she struts around here like she’s ten feet tall.”

I can’t help but smile. “Good for her. I’m sure she worked hard.”

“She did, but from what I hear, you’ve been working hard, too,” Phillip says, wiping his hands on a rag, “resurrecting the holiday festival. Gabby mentioned you’ve assigned us to man the photo booth on Saturday.”

“Yes, and thank you for volunteering. We’ll need all hands on deck, and I’m sure the booth will be a popular stop on Main Street.”

An elderly couple makes their way down the stairs, and they pause to ask Phillip how long the walking path through the pecan grove out back is. While he chats with them, I decide it wouldn’t hurt to casually mention Thomas, just to see what Phillip might have to say. I mean, the two men are friends, after all. Former high school baseball players together, to be exact. Maybe, they still have some of that locker room style talk when they’re alone.

As the guests tug the door closed behind them, I pick a piece of imaginary lint off the sleeve of my sweater. “Have you talked to Thomas lately? About the festival preparations, I mean.”

Phillip’s eyebrows rise as he glances down at me. “I ran into him the other day.”

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