Page 27 of Christmas in His Arms

"Yes. Fuck me," I panted, twisting my hips to meet him thrust for thrust. This time, there was no pretense or teasing. This was all about the release, about staking a claim on each other when we knew we shouldn't be together in the first place.

Ryan growled and slammed into me harder, his hands gripping my hips so tightly I knew he would leave bruises tomorrow. His breathing was ragged in my ear as he pounded into me over and over again, filling the room with the scent of our union and our ragged pants.

"You feel so good, Carrie," he groaned. "So damn good."

"Christ," I gasped out, burying my face in the crook of his neck as my next orgasm began to build. Ryan's grip on me tightened, and he slammed into me even harder, his cock hitting spots deep within me that made my toes curl.

“God, I’m so close,” he grunted. His thrusts were erratic now, choppy and hard, and my body curled upward to his chest, and I felt the waves of pleasure suck me in again. I convulsed and clenched him, and when he whimpered, “Oh, yeah…” I felt his hot release spurting into me.

His thrusts continued, but slower as my body shook and jolted, and when I was calm, he pulled out. But he didn't back away. I thought he'd stand and clean up, but instead, he held me tightly against his chest and turned us so that I was straddling him on the couch. My eyes were so heavy, sex-induced drowsiness staking its claim. I draped myself over his chest and let him hold me.

All the shaking had made me so nauseous again and only served to remind me that I was pregnant and Ryan didn't want kids. This was such a bad idea for so many reasons, but right now, feeling so close to him, the only thing on my mind was how fucking bad it was going to hurt when he learned my secret and decided he wanted nothing to do with me.

"Mmm, you are incredible. Have I told you that?" His warm baritone rumbled through me, and I sighed.

"I'm so worn out." I struggled to stay awake, hardly able to keep my eyes open. "That was such amazing sex, I'm falling asleep."

My pussy felt raw from being fucked. I felt his cum dripping from me and self-consciously, I worried he'd think it was gross,but he turned me around and laid me down, then picked up my clothes and handed them to me as he pressed a kiss to my forehead.

"Let me make you a cup of coffee and we can talk."

Talking was the last thing we should do. Every time we talked, we got closer. I found out some other amazing thing about him and fell more in love, and it made me want to do stupid things like nuke my own career by saying yes to his request to stay in Evergreen Falls. But I let him walk away with his clothing in hand and I lazily dressed myself, ignoring the mess caused by our sex. I could shower when he left, but if Mom walked in and saw me naked, I was screwed.

When I had the mess on the sofa mopped up with tissues, which I piled on the end table for now, I sat back down and rested my head on the backrest. My eyes were still heavy, so I shut them and prayed the food I ate for dinner would stay down. My stomach rolled and tossed like a stormy ocean, and so did my heart.

I wanted more than anything to hold on to the love I was feeling for Ryan, for the comfort he brought me and the confidence I felt when in his arms or even around him. It felt like a fairy tale or a dream come true. But it was true what they say. If it seems too good to be true, it probably is. The gutting news that Ryan didn't want children made everything else pointless. The instant he heard I was having a baby, he'd be gone, and I'd be devastated. And I didn't know if I could survive that now.

20

RYAN

Istood by the coffee maker buckling my pants back up, thinking of how incredible Carrie was. I'd almost slipped and told her I loved her while we were having sex, but I was glad I had the self-restraint to keep it in. When I told her for the first time, I wanted it to be special, and I didn't want her to connect it to sex. What I felt for her was so much more than just lust-driven desire. If she told me she never wanted to have sex with me again, it would be enough. Just being near her was enough.

The coffee maker hissed and dumped the hot brew into one mug, then a second. I added milk and sugar to hers and started back toward the living room when I heard the front door open and Helen's voice calling to someone.

My blood instantly ran cold, and I looked down at my clothes to make sure I was proper again, instantly panicking about whether Carrie had gotten dressed yet. And I noticed my black socks, not currently covered with my dress shoes, which I'd kicked off by the couch before punishing Carrie's body with three orgasms.

I was dead in the water.

Helen would take one look at me here with no shoes on, and her daughter practically strung out on oxytocin on the sofa with messy hair and lust-hooded eyes, and she'd know we were having an affair. Suddenly, my laissez-faire attitude about Walter eventually getting over the news didn't feel as comforting. My chest felt like someone clamped it in a vise, and I stood stock-still as Helen fumbled with the lock on the door. She stood with her back to me, her turquoise-green pea coat dusted with snow that was quickly melting, and my brain raced for an excuse as to why I was standing in her living room with coffee in my hand. I looked in the direction of the couch, but I didn't see Carrie there. Maybe she went upstairs to shower, or maybe she lay down on the couch. It would be easier to make an excuse if she was here to help me.

But time was up, and I had to deal with this on my own. Helen turned around slowly, eyes scanning across the living room. When she saw me she jumped, which made me feel startled too. She looked confused.

"Ryan, what are you doing here?" Then she looked out the front window. I'd parked on the street, but she probably hadn’t even paid attention.

"I, uh… Carrie," I said, fumbling for words. My heart was in my throat, pounding away, and I felt like a cooked goose on Christmas. My cheeks must've been redder than a firetruck.

"Well?" she asked, and she looked around the living room again. I swore I saw a fire brewing in her eyes, but both of us heard a retching sound at the same time.

I saw movement from the corner of my eye and noticed Carrie's dark, wavy hair as she sat up and almost fell off the couch. Both Helen and I moved toward her swiftly, and I set the mugs ofcoffee on the coffee table only to see a puddle of vomit next to the couch.

"Oh, dear," Helen mumbled. She set her things on the table and shed her coat faster than I could blink. "Ryan, get some towels… and a cup of water!" she blurted out, and while my heart ached to comfort Carrie, I knew Helen would only suspect more if I ignored her.

"Of course," I told her, and I rushed back into the kitchen.

I felt like a horrible human being for feeling relief as Carrie threw up. She was miserable, probably sick and feeling awful right now, and I was celebrating the fact that we hadn’t been caught. Even so, she could've passed those germs to me, and I would have to answer for that later on, but it gave me time to plan what I'd say to Walter and Helen.

I found a few hand towels, wet a dish rag, and pulled a cup out of the cupboard to fill with water. When I returned, Carrie was resting on her side looking up at me with fear in her eyes, and I set the water on the table. When I dropped to my knees with the towels, Helen snatched them from my hand.

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