Page 12 of Christmas Kisses

“I thought you might like it.” She walked away from him, and he turned to see what she was up to. He watched her as she looked around, then she frowned, shaking her head.

“What’s wrong?”

“Look.”

He did, seeing what she was pointing out. A ring of stones, surrounding the charred remains of someone’s campfire. Around that, on the ground, a dozen or more beer cans and soft drink bottles were scattered. She bent and started picking them up. “This is a favorite spot for partying.” She carried an armload of cans to the truck and tossed them into the back. “We can dump them in the bin back in town.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He went to pick up the rest of the cans and took them to the truck. Then they both stood there, beside the pickup. He pretended to be looking at the falls, but mostly he was stealing sideways glances at her. He didn’t really know what to do next…what she’d had in mind when she’d steered him way up here.

Licking her lips, seeming just as nervous as he was, she said, “The rain’s letting up.”

He tipped his face up to the sky, then took off his hat and shook the water off it. “Looks like it’s stopped altogether.” He opened the pickup door, tossed the hat inside, didn’t bother closing the door again. Maya was right, it had stopped raining. The only moisture hitting his face now was the spray from the falls. He watched the clouds skitter away from the tiny sliver of the waning moon above. A few stars managed to shine, too.

When he looked down again, it was to see Maya staring at him, her face tipped up to his. Licking his lips, and knowing he shouldn’t, Caleb slid his hands around her waist anyway. “I’m going to kiss you now, Maya Brand,” he said.

“It’s about time, Caleb Cain,” she replied, and her palms slid up the front of him to curl around his shoulders.

He lowered his head and pressed his mouth to hers, pulled her closer, kissed her. It was good. He’d been wanting to kiss this woman for hours now, and it was every bit as good as he’d imagined it would be. Her lips were soft and willing to do whatever his suggested. So when he nudged them apart, she complied right away. She shivered against him just a little when he touched the soft curve of her upper lip with his tongue, and he felt the breath stutter out of her mouth into his. Encouraged, he delved deeper, tasted her fully. She tasted like beer. And that was a reminder to him that none of this was a very good idea.

But then her hips arched against him, and he groaned and kept kissing her. His hands slid down to cup her backside, and when he squeezed her closer, she wriggled against him in a way that almost made him roar as loudly as the falls were doing.

He lifted his head and stared down into her glittering, heavy-lidded eyes. “If you want to stop, Maya, now would be the time to tell me.”

She shook her head once from side to side and shucked off her jacket, letting it fall to the rain-wet ground.

“You…you’ve had a few beers.”

“Not that many.” Her hands came to his chest, her fingers flicking the snaps of the denim shirt open and pushing it down over his shoulders.

“You were upset by what that redneck said in the saloon.”

“Was I?” Her hands went to her own blouse now. It was white, button-down, clean. She undid the buttons one by one, opening the blouse. She wore a white cotton bra…which she filled to overflowing.

“It’s…it’s cold and d-damp out here.”

The blouse came off. She tossed it to the ground with the coat. The bra came next. “You’re right, it is.”

“Oh, hell.” His hands covered her breasts before he could give them permission. Weighty and full, nipples taut with the bite of the chilly air. He ran his thumbs over them and watched her catch her lower lip between her teeth and close her eyes.

“You’re an adult woman,” he said. “Who the hell am I to tell you what’s good for you?”

Her hands again, tugging his T-shirt over his head, and he didn’t want to let her breasts go long enough to take it off, but he did, and when he touched them again he used his mouth. The hell with nobility. She’d only had three beers. He’d counted several times in his head since they left that bar. Three beers. She was not incapacitated.

And she was not young or innocent or naive. And he was only human.

Warm flesh and stiff nipples on his tongue made him hungry for more, and when her fingers tangled in his hair to hold him to her, he suckled her harder, nipped with his teeth, tugged and pulled at her nipple until she made whimpering sounds and fell back against the side of the pickup. Her nails dug into his back. He attacked her other breast, pressing her back to the cold metal of the truck as his hands tugged at her jeans, found the button, found the zipper, shoved them down, baring her from waist to ankles in one hurried motion. She kicked the jeans off, tearing free of her boots at the same time. He looked her over and shivered. Then he closed his hands at her waist and lifted her, set her bare bottom on the seat of the pickup, shoved her legs apart and bent to bury his face in between. He tasted her. Salt and woman coated his tongue, and he delved deeper, spread her wider, tasted every part of her, until she was quivering and moaning and tugging at his hair and shaking. So close to ecstasy. But he didn’t take her there…not yet.

He fumbled with his jeans, freed himself, and again clasped her waist and lifted her, pulling her forward this time, and down. Wrapping her legs around his waist and settling her over him, he managed not to move for one brief moment. Jaw clenched, he whispered, “You sure, Maya?”

Her answer was a pleading sound from deep in her throat as she rocked her hips. So he pulled her lower, sheathed himself slowly inside her heat. And it was so good his knees nearly buckled. And when she moved lower and cried out, his knees did buckle, and he lowered them both to the ground, because he couldn’t do otherwise.

Her coat was his bed as he fell backward, pulling her with him. They moved together, and he forgot to think, to perform, to do anything, as they rolled and clung and twined around each other. Until at last he lost himself to his climax as she trembled and murmured his name and then screamed it out loud.

Breathless and weak, he enfolded her in his arms, and they lay there on the damp ground for a few moments, sated. But then their body heat cooled, and she shivered in his arms.

“Let’s get you out of the cold,” he told her.

She didn’t reply. He pulled back so he could look at her face. Closed eyes, relaxed features, maybe a hint of a smile. And another shiver.

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