Page 59 of A Wrong Bed Christmas: Ignited\Where There's Smoke

Slowly he inserted the head of his cock, sighing at the tight warmth. He bit his lip, trying to go slow, wanting to savor every inch of pleasure. Emma had other ideas. She clamped her thighs around his hips and lifted her ass, taking him all the way inside her.

“Yes...” She sighed.

He started moving again, so slow it almost hurt.

“No, no,” she said, smacking his ass. “Harder, please.”

Smiling, he tossed his intentions aside and gave her what she wanted. Several minutes later he found his own release.

Their breaths and cries of pleasure twisted together in the oldest song known to man.

And it was so good.

8

THE LIGHT OF morning had not brought regrets. On the contrary, it had brought more of the fantasy Emma had wrapped herself in. She wasn’t tugging it off until she had to.

She lay twined in Erik’s arms, totally sated. “That was nice.”

“Nice? Don’t you mean spectacular?”

She gave him a little pinch. “You think highly of your abilities, don’t you?”

He looked at her and crooked an eyebrow, making her laugh.

“Okay, okay, I can honestly say it was spectacular,” she said, giving him a kiss.

Just as she was breaking the kiss, the front door slammed open, breaking the chair, sending it careening across the worn floor.

She screamed, clutching the covers to her. Erik jumped out of bed and grabbed the lamp he’d set beside the trunk, raising it like a weapon. At first she thought the wind had gusted hard enough to once again blow the door open. But then she saw the man...and the gun.

“Get your hands up,” the intruder yelled, stepping into the cabin holding a shotgun.

She didn’t want to put her hands up. If she did, her boobs would be out there for all to see. Tucking the covers under her arms, she pressed her upper arms to her sides and held up her hands. Erik dropped the lamp and the ceramic base shattered on the floor.

A large man wearing a brown cowboy hat and a fluffy khaki ski jacket with a star attached strolled in. Removing his mirrored glasses, he made a face. “Just what in the hell is going on here? You know you’re trespassing, don’t you?”

Erik kept his hands up. “We had an accident up on the highway yesterday and we couldn’t find help.”

“So you broke into my cabin?” an older man asked, stepping forward.

“Well, our car was dead and neither of our cell phones worked,” Erik said, gingerly lowering his arms while eyeing the shotgun still pointed at them. “We stayed on the highway for a long time, but no one came. We saw the reflective marker on the highway and found this place.”

“We’ll pay for repairs to the door,” Emma added, sliding her eyes to the shattered lamp. “And the lamp.”

The deputy turned to the older man, who had a bristly mustache and wore hunting coveralls. “You gonna press charges, Walt?”

Walt looked at Erik and then looked at her. A knowing gleam appeared in his eyes. “Ah, hell. I can’t press charges against people taking shelter from the storm. Gave us nearly a foot last night. Besides it’s Christmas and all.”

“Thank you,” Emma said, looking over to Erik, who looked like a man with his hand caught in a cookie jar. Yeah, her cookie jar.

“We would appreciate that, sir,” he said finally.

“Ah, hell, this place ain’t been used in years,” Walt said, stepping in and closing the door. “No electricity or anything. If you’d have come a quarter mile more, you would have hit my spread. This here was my groundskeeper’s place back when I needed someone. Sold most my land but kept this old cabin. My boys always liked to have friends over to play cards, drink hooch and blow up stuff. So don’t worry about the lamp. No loss there.”

The deputy looked around and then resettled his gaze on them. “Why don’t we let these two get decent and then I’ll run them up to your house so they can call a tow truck.”

Walt nodded. “Yeah, come on up to the house and I’ll get you some coffee and a proper breakfast. Maria made enough muffins for Cox’s army. I’ll wait outside.”

The deputy followed Walt out, closing the broken door.

Her heart raced and she felt sweaty despite the new chill in the air.

“You okay?” Erik asked, reaching for his jeans and pulling them on. The tender teasing was gone, replaced by something she couldn’t put her finger on. Probably that whole light-of-day thing. Or the sober realization they’d stepped over a line they couldn’t backtrack over. Or maybe it was just having a shotgun trained on him.

---