Authors: Missy Maxim
Tags: #christmas, #erotic romance, #hot sex, #jen and will, #romance, #short stories
“So, I’m stuck here. All night.”
I let out a slow breath. “So it would
seem.”
A young, attractive man in the house all
night. Woo, boy. No awkwardness there…
He broke the silence first. “Want you to know
you’re safe. Not a murderer or rapist or anything. Love women,
actually.”
I arched a brow. “And they love you?”
He laughed. “Sometimes. Not enough to stay.”
He dropped his eyes to his mug. “What about you? You mentioned a
name.”
“Lee. My husband.”
“Oh. Couldn’t make it home for
Christmas?”
“Not since he rolled his car off the mountain
and died,” I said. Oh god…why did I say that? “I’m going to prepare
the guest room.” I fled to the spare room to prepare his bed.
I couldn’t believe I blurted it out like
that. God, what he must think of me…what he must think I think of
him
for asking. Stupid, stupid, stupid…
“Hey.” He stood in the doorway.
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry for the personal question. It was
none of my business. I’d offer to go, but…”
“You don’t need to apologize. I don’t know
why I said that.” I sighed. “My husband died ten months ago. He was
drunk and driving too fast and he didn’t make it around the curve.”
I sat on the bed. “My family was coming up to help me make a good
memory here for the holiday after… It’s my first Christmas
alone.”
He took a step forward. “You’re not alone
now.”
Not in the technical sense, anyway. “True.
Thanks. Would you like more cocoa?”
“Please.” He backed up to let me out of the
room.
He had a hell of a smile. His whole face lip
up with it. Lee never smiled with his teeth showing; at least, not
for a long time before his death.
Will followed me to the kitchen. I filled the
kettle with more water and turned on the stove, then got some
cookies I’d made the day before out of the pantry. He sat on the
counter watching me, his bare feet swaying back and forth. His toe
nails were coated in black polish haphazardly chipped away.
“Will…that short for William?” I asked.
“Yup.”
“Did you grow up in England?”
“Nah, accent’s from my dad, and a stretch at
university.”
“You went to college over there? What was
that like?”
“Only a year. My band got offered a deal and
I quit.”
My eyes widened. “You had a record deal? Are
you famous and I’m just out of the loop?”
He laughed. “Just a regular bloke, pet. We
got taken for a ride. Barely reached a bit of fame, and the manager
ran off with the profits. Embezzled the lot of it and left us in
the hole. We scrounged up what we could to pay the debts, but the
strain was too much to keep us together. I came back to L.A. to try
goin’ solo.” He spread his arms out. “You see how well that’s going
so far.”
I giggled, and handed him one of the mugs. I
held up mine for a toast. “To better luck next year for struggling
artists.”
He clinked his mug with mine. “I’ll drink to
that.”
We shared a smile. I couldn’t help doing it
when he did, like an automatic reaction of my cheek muscles.
“So, what kind of music do you play?”
He hopped down, careful not to slosh, and
walked to his guitar case. He had an unusual gait, this kind of
rolling glide that was more graceful than a human should be.
“Some of everything, really. Music just came
easy.” He set the mug down and opened the case. “Let’s see how you
fared, old friend.”
He plucked his thumb on the strings, checking
their tune, then started playing a combination of embellished
scales. He was really good, at least to my knowledge. He pushed his
sleeves up a bit, revealing toned forearms with corded muscles that
twitched and flexed as he played. Then he started humming something
I didn’t know and switched melodies. Soft words escaped his lips,
like he couldn’t help singing it, not just humming along. A smooth
pretty baritone that made my tummy flutter.
I stared as he lost himself in the music, his
eyes closed and head bobbing in time. It had turned into an
intimate moment. I was sure he’d forgotten he had an audience
and…wow, was it hot in here?
“I’m glad your guitar wasn’t damaged,” I
said.
He stopped playing and cleared his throat.
“Yeah. Seems okay. Thanks.” He grinned, then. “Any requests,
milady?”
“Oh, um, I wouldn’t know what…I mean, I don’t
listen to much, so…my knowledge is pretty much limited to boy bands
and pop princesses.”
“You really haven’t been a fan of something
since high school?” He looked at me like the concept didn’t
compute.
I shrugged and turned away to the cookies. “I
had other things to do.” I heard him put the guitar away.
“Like write books.”
“Uh-huh. Crafting a story is…engrossing. Or
it used to be.”
He joined me for a cookie. “Muse run
off?”
“Like it couldn’t escape fast enough.”
He leaned his forearms on the kitchen
counter. “Maybe you need a change of scenery. Or experience. Shake
things up. When I get stuck on a song, I try something I’ve never
done before.”
I looked up and met his eyes. They were
prairie sky blue. “What did you do?”
“The first thing that crossed my mind.
Sometimes it got me in trouble, but it was still worth it.”
I propped my chin up with my hand. “What kind
of trouble?”
He grinned, showing off sexy dimples.
“Anything from women to getting arrested. Did some stupid shit at
nineteen.”
I giggled. “Doesn’t everybody?”
He leaned closer. “I sense a story there, Ms.
Donovan.”
I dropped my gaze and peeked at him through
my lashes. “Well, I did the sorority thing, right? And there are
dares, you know, to get in.” I shook my head. “I can’t, it’s too
embarrassing.”
“Would I find pictures on the Web?” he
teased.
“Oh, god, no…nothing that scandalous. Forget
it…I’ve just met you! Oh, gee, that fire’s getting pretty low.” I
darted around him to go get more firewood, only to be stopped when
he grabbed my hand. The contact sent a jolt up my arm like an
electric zap.
“I’ll share if you will,” he said.
“Share what?” My breath came out in a breathy
whisper.
“Something old.” He tucked a strand of hair
behind my ear. “Or something new.”
Distance would be good.
Moving away any time now.
This was me, moving.
Why weren’t my feet working, dammit?
I hadn’t shared chemistry with anyone since
Lee, and he’d stopped wanting me in bed months before his death.
This close to Will, I couldn’t deny his looks were, well…gorgeous.
I even liked the dark roots at the base of those white strands, and
two-tone had always looked stupid before. What was this man doing
to me?
He stood there, still holding my hand, eyes
locked with mine. Was he waiting for something?
“I-I…”
A kind smile graced his face, and he let me
off the hook. “You’re right, love. The fire is almost out. Do you
have more wood handy?”
“I-in the snow room.”
He nodded and left to get it. My hand started
to cool immediately and felt empty. He rushed back inside with a
couple logs in his arms and shut the door, hopping on his toes.
“Cold!”
I laughed. “Serves you right for going out
there barefoot.”
He crossed the living room to the hearth.
The movie was almost over. Had we really been
talking that long?
“I should check on your clothes,” I said.
“Okay.” He kept poking the fire.
The dryer probably buzzed while he was
playing. His jeans and socks were dry. I left his sweater draped
flat on top of the machine.
“Here you go. Nice and warm.”
He grabbed the socks and pulled them on.
“Ahhh…now that’s a beautiful thing.”
“Why do you paint your nails?”
He shrugged. “I get bored. Don’t sleep some
nights, you know? So it’s infomercials and varnish.”
“Why don’t you take it off when it’s chipped
that bad?”
“The chips are on purpose. Only
girls
have perfect manicures.” He shuddered.
“Okay, okay…”
“All meant to look lived-in, you see.”
“Ah. You care about looking like you don’t
care.”
He winked. “Exactly.”
“Kinda vain, isn’t it?” I winked back to show
I was teasing.
He laughed, a rich sound from his belly.
“Probably!”
Still sitting on the floor, he leaned back on
his elbows and stretched his legs out. I sat on the hearth rug,
Indian style, and stared into the flames. This Christmas Eve wasn’t
so bad so far.
I didn’t look at Will, though. That would
mean seeing how his tight tee showed the definition in his torso
and biceps, and the sliver of tummy revealed between his shirt and
the low-riding sweatpants. It meant noticing the twinkle of his
eyes, the modelesque cheekbones, and the lower lip just waiting to
be bitten. Any writer would ascribe his looks to one of her
heroes.
What was I thinking? I was a widow. He
shouldn’t even be on my radar. My husband hadn’t been in the ground
a full year.
The husband that barely acknowledged I
existed before he killed himself.
But he was deeply depressed. It wasn’t his
fault.
Maybe the depression wasn’t his fault, but
did he try to get a job after he lost the first one?
Was it just an excuse when I found a number
and a woman’s name in the pocket of his jeans?
Or how about the lipstick on his boxers after
he came home stone drunk from the bar?
Or when I found condoms in the truck when I
needed a flashlight?
OKAY! I get it!
Lee had been a sucky partner and wasn’t worth
honoring anymore. I blocked those bad memories out the past months;
afraid acknowledging my husband’s faults after his death meant I
was a bad wife. I’d loved him, I knew I did, but the fairytale
start to our romance gave way to a nightmarishly-real ending.
“Earth to Jennifer…”
I looked up into blue eyes. “Huh?” When did
he move that close?
“Penny for your thoughts?”
“They aren’t worth the penny.”
He sat leaning toward me, his weight propped
up on one arm. “I know I’m a lousy substitute for family
cheer.”
I shook my head. “You’re not lousy. This is
better than being alone.” A lot better.
He smiled. “Thank you. How can I entertain
you?”
That was a loaded question. “You’re my guest.
I should be asking you.”
“I’m just glad you didn’t let me freeze.”
Me, too. I leaned my cheek on my shoulder and
smiled back. “Guess you owe me, then.” We gravitated closer,
centimeter by centimeter.
“Then may I tell you that you have the most
beautiful mouth I’ve ever seen?”
I blushed, but didn’t look away. “You just
did.”
His gaze flicked to my lips a second before
he kissed me. I had time to pull away or turn my head.
I didn’t want to.
For being the seducing stranger, his kiss was
surprisingly gentle. God, I’d missed connecting. His breath still
smelled like chocolate and his lips were soft. I sighed and tilted
my head to deepen contact. He threaded his fingers into my
hair.
When he pulled away to breathe, I whispered,
“I haven’t been touched in a long time.”
He swallowed, then nodded. “I’m not trying to
take advantage, Jen. Stop me when you want to.”
“I know. Just…please kiss me again.” I pushed
Lee out of my mind and let myself feel. Lust, a crush, animal
attraction…whatever you wanted to call it, I welcomed this moment.
The months alone had felt like years. Maybe tonight had given me a
way to move on.
Will moved into a kneeling position to have
both hands free, one tunneling into my hair again and the other
caressing my cheek. He kissed so sweet I might cry. Compared with
his bad-boy appearance, it was unexpected. I shifted closer to
touch him, too, wrapping my arms around his back, then crawled on
his lap as the kiss gained intensity.
“I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” he
said when we parted.
I grinned. “You always kiss strange women you
meet in the middle of a blizzard?”
“Just the ones that save my life.”
Good answer. We made out in front of the
fireplace until he tried to change position and couldn’t make his
legs work. His feet fell asleep from sitting on them. I moved off
his lap and turned off the TV. It’d lost signal a while ago,
anyway. I sat on the sofa and watched him rub the blood back into
his legs.
William stood on his feet. I noticed the
prominent tent in his sweats and tried not to stare. That thing was
definitely longer than— He pulled me to my feet and kissed me
again. I wrapped my arms around his neck, relieved he wanted more.
His lips were like a drug, creating more and more need inside
me.
He gripped the hem of my sweater and pulled
up. I raised my arms so he could lift it over my head, our timing
perfect for only parting a second. Another fierce kiss, then the
tank top I wore made it to the floor, too.
He glanced down at my bra. “Candy canes?”
I shrugged. “It’s Christmas.”
He grinned. “You’re too bloody adorable.” And
kissed me again.
I didn’t want to be the only one shedding
clothes and reached for his tee. He shed it and tossed it aside.
Oh, wowza… He was really toned, an eight-pack leading all the way
down beneath those pants. I trailed my fingers over his chest. His
abs twitched when I reached his belly button. Lee had been beefy
and tall, heavy enough to make it uncomfortable for him to be on
top of me. Will’s body type was a better match for my frame.
“See something you like, love?” Will asked
between kisses on my neck.
“Uh-huh.”
Enough talking. I shut him up with my
mouth.
He teased my lips with his tongue. I didn’t
like French kissing before tonight, used to a man plunging his
tongue far enough in to make me gag, an invasion I expected to put
up with as part of foreplay.
This
man enticed me to dance
and play, tickling the roof of my mouth then retreating to beckon
me to try the same on him. It was
hot
.