Page 65 of The Christmas Tree Farm
‘No, I don’t want you to be a nice guy right now, Bennett.’
He smiled against her throat. ‘Good.’
ChapterEighteen
Bennett’s chuckle rumbled through her body, the vibration echoing in her toes. Her legs were wrapped around his middle and his mouth was on her neck and all she could think was,thank Godbecause she really needed this.
She needed out of her head and out of this new life just for a freaking second. She needed a break, a day off from everything. She needed to just …be. And at the moment, the best place tojust bewas underneath Bennett’s body. How had she not noticed how broad he was? How solid?
She was still reeling from him single-handedly wrestling her pillow top mattress down the stairs like it was his life’s mission and now the feel of him between her thighs, strong and sure, it seemed insane that she had ever underestimated Bennett Ellis.
‘Does anyone ever call you Ben?’ she asked, raking her fingers through his hair.
He raised his head, a half-smile on his lips. ‘Some people.’
‘Can I call you Ben?’
His smile grew. ‘Only if I get to call you a nickname.’ His answer was suspiciously fast, as though he’d already given this some thought. Had Bennett been thinking about her that much? As much as she’d been thinking about him? She liked that idea probably more than she should.
‘I don’t have any nicknames.’ She let her fingers trail across his shoulders and he shivered a little against her.
‘No nicknames, huh?’
‘Well, Chloe calls me Kiki, but that’s off-limits.’
He dipped his head again, kissing along her throat. She arched into him and he groaned, the sound rumbling through her.
‘Peaches,’ he murmured against her skin.
‘No way.’
He was grinning when he lifted his head again. ‘My little Georgia peach.’
‘Absolutely not.’ She hadn’t even told him about her traumatic pageant past and still he’d landed on that nickname.Wonderful.
‘It’s perfect.’ He ran his nose along her skin. ‘You’re sweet and soft just like a peach.’
‘And fuzzy and I bruise easily?’
He laughed and she was starting to like that sound a little too much, like she might want to hear it past today. Like she might want it in her life permanently.
‘Okay, point taken. I’ll work on it,’ he said, his smile softening. The glow of the fire and the candlelight flickering across the ceiling cast him in yellows and golds. His hair was disheveled, undone. His body was still wrapped around hers, warm and safe. She didn’t say it out loud but at this moment she felt like she would let Bennett call her pretty much anything.
She might even let him call herhis. For today. For tonight. For as long as the storm lasted. Because that was what they agreed on. That was the only way this made sense. He lived in California and now, for better or worse, she lived here.
‘Kiss me,’ she said, the safest thing she could say. Bennett’s lips met hers without hesitation, without a second thought. She asked and he answered. She opened and he met her tongue with his. And then she was drowning in it, in this kiss, in Bennett. His breath was hers, his heartbeat matched her own, his body heat was seeping into her chilled bones. Had she ever been warm enough before this moment?
It was a kiss unlike any other. A kiss that left her melted into the mattress, a vaguely Kira-shaped puddle. She gasped, coming up for air and Bennett sucked and nipped at her neck as she breathed in and breathed out and clawed at his back and pulled him closer and arched against him and wanted more and more and more.
‘I want you naked,’ he rasped between kisses. ‘I can’t stop thinking about it. About you.’ He was just as frantic as she was, his mouth hot and insistent on hers, his hips moving against her like he couldn’t help himself.
‘Okay, yes,’ Kira panted, pushing against his chest. ‘I want that, too.’
He lifted off of her but then dipped again, kissing and nipping at her lips like he couldn’t stop. Kira felt the same way. She was dizzy with it, with this fire between them.
Finally tearing himself away, Bennett sat back on his heels. His breath was coming nearly as fast as hers, his cheeks flushed red. His hair stood up where Kira had been tugging on it. He looked wild. Nothing like the mild-mannered Clark Kent she’d met in her fields a couple of weeks ago. He looked debauched. And like he had a list of ways to do the same to her running through his mind.
‘You can’t stop thinking about me naked?’ she asked, sitting up to face him. She still couldn’t resist an opportunity to tease him. Just a little.
