Read A Christmas to Believe In Online
Authors: Claire Ashgrove
of her chair and slid his strong arms around her waist. She
sank into him, closing her eyes to the musky scent of his
cologne.
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"You've done good, Jesse. Even on the receiving end of his
anger, I can see he's a good kid. I'm sure it will work out
okay."
If only she shared his optimistic outlook. But too many
years of knowing Ethan made it impossible to believe he'd
simply take it with an adult's logic. Thirteen he might be. At
heart, he was still much, much younger.
"Hey," Clint murmured as he nuzzled her hair. "Come back
to me. You're not allowed to worry tonight." His hands moved
across her back, slow sweeps that worked away the tension in
her muscles. He leaned back to look at her. "If I remember
right, I promised you a dance on prom, and my date wouldn't
let me."
"You did?"
"Gee, babe, glad I made such a great impression." He
rolled his eyes. "Yes. I did."
With a giggle, she backed up a step, luring him into the
front room. "Well, in that case, maybe I should collect. Think
you can remember how?"
He caught her hands. "I think I can wing it." His voice took
on a definite husky undertone as he pulled her in close.
Bing Crosby's rich timbre enveloped them. She laid her
head on his chest, her eyes closed, as they swayed to
Silver
Bells
. Surprisingly graceful, Clint kept her fastened against his
body, his slow shuffle-step a sensual rhythm that made the
wine go to her head. He was warm and comfortable. He held
her like a cherished treasure—not too tight, not too loose, but
possessive all the same. She reveled in his clean scent, the
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weight of his hand on the small of her back, and the tender
way he tucked his cheek against the top of her head.
"What's your Christmas wish?" he whispered.
You. Forever with you.
Yet the wish was as futile as asking
for Santa to shimmy down her chimney. She couldn't have
forever with Clint. Just now. A few unforgettable days.
Tonight.
"What's yours?" she returned quietly.
His embrace tightened, and he dropped his head to the
hollow of her shoulder. "I'm holding her in my arms." The
brush of his mouth followed his whisper.
Jesse's heart thumped. One heavy hopeful beat that
robbed her lungs of air. She tipped her head back, looked into
his expressive eyes.
He moved as she did, lowering his mouth as she rose to
her toes. Their lips met, clung together, eased apart.
Surrender passed over his face. With a throaty murmur, Clint
closed his eyes and hauled her against his chest. His mouth
captured hers, full of tender insistence, laden with fervent
need.
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Clint's lungs strained against the trembling of his chest.
The confession came too close to the truth that lurked in his
heart. The same truth he'd desperately tried to ignore all
afternoon. He loved her. Had come home for a family
Christmas he didn't want to attend and fell in love with Jesse
in a matter of days. So desperately in love he didn't know
which end was up, which faltering aspect of his life mattered
more, or which one would make the greatest impact if he
walked away.
All he knew was that in Jesse's arms, all the conflict of his
father's expectations, the troubles with his stables, and his
concerns about Angel's foal disappeared. She knew when to
pick him up. How to do it without even trying. She knew the
workings of his mind sometimes better than he did.
He fisted his hands into her hair, angled her head, and
deepened the kiss. The fruity flavor of wine lingered on her
mouth. It soaked into him, adding to the lightness in his
head. She was every bit as intoxicating as any expensive
champagne. More so when he stopped his thoughts and
yielded to sheer feeling.
Jesse slipped her hands beneath his sweater. His muscles
bunched beneath the exploration of her fingertips. How he
loved the feel of her hands on him. The touch of innocence in
her caress that blended with her woman's confidence. She
had no shame when it came to her desire for him. Made no
attempt to cloak her heart.
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In fact, she gave it freely, that heart of hers. At least to
him, and of all the things he remembered about Jesse, what
stood out the most was her detachment to her relationships.
He had never seen her crazy over a guy. Had never witnessed
girlhood giddiness. Had never experienced Jesse giving a man
the affection she showered upon him.
The nature of their dance changed, took on a far more
hedonistic rhythm. The sway of her hips enticed, the brush of
their bodies no longer innocent. He dropped his hands to her
delectable bottom and kneaded his fingers into firm buttocks.
His already full cock stirred in anticipation of the haven it
craved.
Clint used the suspended embrace to toe off his shoes.
Jesse followed suit. Her lips drifted down his chin, his neck.
Stopped at the base of his throat while her toes skimmed up
the inside of his pants' cuff. He stood unmoving. Afraid to
breathe. Torn between the desire to lay her down on the
couch or carry her upstairs.
Sensation washed through him as she worked her hands
up to his chest. She flicked a fingertip over his nipple, splayed
her fingers across his ribs. When she eased his sweater up,
the rush of cool air surprised him, but the warmth of her
breath, moments before her lips danced over his skin, erased
the uncomfortable chill. Her mouth created a trail of sheer
fire. The flick of her tongue, the nip of her teeth combined to
send his heartbeat into triple-time.
She pushed on his sweater again, silently asking for the
room to pull it off. Clint obliged by reaching behind his neck,
gathering it in his fist and tugging it over his head. Sweater
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and cotton t-shirt came off to land in a forgotten pile on the
couch.
Her mouth returned, and Clint sucked in a sharp breath as
she grazed her teeth across his chest. Her fingers spanned his
abdomen, dipped into the waistband of his pants. She
touched the tip of his swollen erection, and Clint's body
jerked. He backed up a step, the distance a necessary
torture. They had all night. If he allowed those tantalizing
fingers to manipulate him, he'd be useless in a mere matter
of seconds.
Instead, he swept her into his arms. At her giggle, he gave
her a grin. "I'm taking you to bed."
"I see that."
He lifted an eyebrow as he nipped the tip of her nose. "Any
arguments?"
Jesse snuggled in close and let out a contented sigh.
"None."
She weighed less than a feather, and he carried her up the
stairs with purposeful strides. In the hall, he stopped, unable
to ignore the call of her parted lips, and indulged in a lengthy
kiss. Still playing at her mouth, he nudged open the bedroom
he'd spent one too many rainy days in as a kid, and lowered
her into the bed. Her arms came around his neck, pulling him
down with her, and Clint eased his weight into her.
He gazed down into her indigo eyes. They reflected the
same love and desire that coursed through his veins, and for
a moment, he could do no more than stare. He didn't
understand it. Treasured it, indeed. But how he had earned so
much love, he couldn't comprehend.
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Her soft smile radiated warmth. "I'm so glad you came
home."
"Me too, sweetheart," he murmured against her cheek.
"Me too."
A lift of her hips asked him to help her out of her clothes.
He rocked back on his heels and peeled her jeans away. As
she sat up to pull off her shirt, he shimmied out of the rest of
his clothes. Kneeling on the bed, they came together in an
ardent embrace. Her knee slipped between his thighs, her
body pressed against his hard arousal. He framed her face in
his hands in a desperate attempt to control their feral kiss.
On a ragged breath, he tore his mouth from hers. "Damn it
woman, I can't think when you do that."
Nails scraped against his abdomen. They traversed down
quivering muscles, across his inner thigh. She cupped him in
her hand, and with a firm squeeze, she whispered, "I don't
want you to think."
Clint made the mistake of looking between them. The sight
of her dainty hand around his thick length almost pushed him
over the edge. He grabbed the blankets in a fist and shut his
eyes to hang on to his faltering control. She moved up and
down his shaft, her grip firm, the slide amazing. Trapped by
excruciating ecstasy, Clint let go and gave in to her wish.
Thoughts were useless anyway. He couldn't put more than
two together before her fingers savaged them. He moved
against the pleasant friction of her palm. Strained against his
mounting release.
"Jesse," he exhaled.
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Moist and hot, her breath skimmed over his chest. "Are
you feeling?"
On a hard swallow, he choked out, "God..."
The rest of whatever he'd intended to say drifted into the
netherland of sensation. His hips surged forward, and he
clenched the blankets tighter.
A push of her hand urged him onto his back. He tumbled
at her command, dragged in a relieved breath as her palm fell
away. But before he could put his mind in order enough to
recapture control of the situation, he opened his eyes to find
Jesse looming over him on all fours. She dragged her moist
feminine flesh over his throbbing cock, and Clint ground his
teeth together.
Desire coiled his gut into a hard knot. He lifted into her,
pushing against the entry to her warm sheath. She glided
over him, denying him what he longed for. Agonized, he
clamped his hands into her hips and held her still.
A smile crinkled the corners of her eyes as she complied.
She held his gaze. He read her desire for him behind her
silent stare. Mingling with it, however, lurked acquiescence.
She gave him the lead, and Clint willingly took it.
In a slow prolonged thrust, he guided himself inside her.
Her eyes glazed over, and she let out a ragged gasp. Lifting
her away, Clint retreated, then slipped deep inside again. Her
inner muscles clenched and released, accepting him inch by
inch. He rolled her hips into him; she closed her eyes. Her
features softened with pleasure. Through parted lips, she
breathed in short gasps.
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Guiding her in a steady pace, Clint made love to the
woman who awakened a portion of his soul he hadn't known
existed. She dropped forward, her breasts brushing against
his chest as her mouth searched for his. He gave it to her,
kissing her with every last drop of emotion he could find. As
their momentum increased, she broke their kiss. Her fingers
dug into his shoulders, her breath came between soft moans
of pleasure.
"Clint," she gasped as a shudder rolled through her body.
Around his cock, her flesh pulsed and gripped. He ground his
teeth together with a groan and pushed her hips down as he
surged into her one last time. He came in a whirlwind of
cyclonic sensation and jerked up into her as his body
spasmed. He let out a hoarse cry as the last of him spilled
into her, and Jesse collapsed into his arms.
With the strength he had remaining, he let go of his death
grip on her hips, and folded his arms around her. Spent and
boneless, he lay still, listening to the sound of their rapid
breathing. Like molten wax, she melded into his body. Her
head on his shoulder, her heart drummed against his. He
stroked the ends of her hair and let out a long breath.
The words came unbidden. They rose in his heart, worked
their way up his throat. He clamped his teeth down,
forbidding the thought to escape. She could give her love to
him, but he could not give the emotion life with words.
I love
you, Jesse,
meant futility. He could love her until the world
came to an end, but love had little to do with being the man
she needed. He would not trap her to a loyalty she'd never
break. She deserved so much more than that.
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Jesse slid off Clint's broad chest to lie in the crook of his
arm. She ran her fingertips over his chest, playing with the
light covering of hair there. Emotions warred within her heart.