Finding Christmas (16 page)

They brought the
tree in the house and without too much trouble relocated the sofa, then set the tree in its stand by the window.

“It fits perfectly,” Will said, admiring the addition. “You’re right. A real tree is nice.”

“It is. And it looks perfect in that space.” Turning, Maggie got a good look at the house, since the first time she’d spent any time there she’d been fast asleep. It was really charming. A mid-sized cape, the rooms flowed from one into the other. Gleaming hardwood floors warmed the rooms, and the living room had a beautiful stone fireplace. The kitchen was simple and functional, but she could see them spending time here, playing with recipes and drinking wine.

It was an odd thing, thinking about the future. A year ago, she wanted to die. Now, she felt like living had been a very good decision.

Will had his shoulder pressed into the window frame as he stared out at the snow. It was coming down at a good clip now, and it was starting to cover the roads. Holly Point’s roads were notorious in the winter, because being so close to the water meant ice was always a possibility.

Maggie looped her arms around his waist, laying her cheek against the soft sweater that covered his broad back. “It looks bad out.”

“Mmm. Roads are slick. The snow is accumulating fast.”

“Not a good idea to drive your car in this weather.” Maggie knew the old jeep they’d used to bring home the tree would do fine in the weather, but there was no way she was going to mention it.

“The Beamer? Nah. It’s all over the road when it’s like this.” Pulling her hands away from his body, Will turned, his face growing flushed. “Wanna sleep over?”

Maggie felt her heart start to race. “I thought you’d never ask.”

*     *     *

That was all
he needed to hear. Will didn’t hesitate for a second and scooped Maggie up in his arms, surprising her thoroughly.

“Oh!” she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m not too heavy?”

“Nope, you’re perfect. Now let me finish sweeping you off your feet.”

“Foot,” she corrected, then giggled.

He stopped short at the bottom of the stairs. “Really? You’re making jokes?”

“Sorry,” she muttered. “It helps me feel less nervous.” That couldn’t have been an easy thing for her to admit. “I make jokes when I’m scared or uneasy. It’s a coping mechanism.”

The stairs were narrow, and Will climbed them slowly, making sure to hold onto her, to keep her secure. “You’re scared?”

“Not of you. Of me. Of how I look. I’m not pretty under my clothes, Will. I’m scarred. Badly.”

“Maggie, I don’t care about that…”

“I know you say that, and I believe you mean it with all your heart, but it can be a shock. No one realizes, and my scars, well, they tell a story, and it’s not happy.”

This was it, decision time. “Are you sure?”

Taking his face in her hands, she kissed him. There was trust there, and if they had that between them, everything else would work out.

“I’m sure. Nervous, scared, but I’m sure. I need you, Will. Only you.”

The soft light in the room came from a lamp on the dresser. It provided enough of a glow for them to see each other, without making Maggie self-conscious. He laid her on the bed, his hand drifting from her shoulder, to her side, and over her hip. A vision with her hair fanned out behind her, her breasts heaving, Will, with one knee on the bed and a foot on the floor, bent in and kissed her, taking a taste of her lips. It was enough to spark a flame in both of them, with each kiss deepening. Aware of his responsibility to her, Will sat up, and pulled his sweater over his head. Then he peeled off his tee-shirt.

The need he saw in Maggie’s eyes as she sat up and touched his arm, his chest, and his belly was palpable. He could feel her.

Tracing her finger over the band tattoo around his bicep, she smiled. “I love this. It’s beautiful.” Her eyes, dark and molten, locked on his. “You’re beautiful.”

Gently grasping the hem of her sweater, Will tugged it up and over her head, overwhelmed about where this was taking them. He’d bedded women before, but never had it meant so much. Never had he been so in love with the woman.

Maggie’s happiness was everything to him, so when she shivered, he froze. “Okay? Just tell me if you want me to stop.”

“I don’t want you to stop. But it’s cold.”

Grabbing the blue plaid throw at the end of the bed, he wrapped it around her shoulders and then made quick work of her bra. Her breasts, full and soft, spilled into his hands and Maggie sighed as he ran his thumbs over each of her nipples.

“How do you feel?” he asked, lowering her back onto the pillows.

“Nervous, but good. I love when you touch me. No one has in so long.”

The throw was keeping her warm, and he had to admit she looked delicious with her beautifully bare shoulders and the swells of her breasts peeking out. But he was going to keep her plenty warm. Nibbling at the base of her throat, Maggie held his head, and tilted his face to hers. “That tickles.”

“You have no idea,” he grinned.

Pulling the throw away, and exposing her naked torso, had an intoxicating effect on him. Indulging himself, he rained kisses over her breasts, pulled gently on the nipples and moved down her belly, stopping at the waistband of her jeans. He popped the button, and that’s when her hand came down over his.

“Do you want me to stop?” He could not mess this up. Too much was at stake.

“No, but…” Maggie drew a shaky breath. “This is when it gets, I don’t know, ugly.”

“I love you, Maggie. I know it’s totally crazy, but I do, and I will never think you’re ugly.”

Without warning, she sat up and wrapped her arms around him. “If you’re crazy, I am too. Oh, Will, I’m such a mess. Do you really want to do this?”

“Do what?” Will laced his fingers behind her neck. She wasn’t crying, but her eyes were bright and the tears threatened. “I can’t not love you. I can’t.”

“I don’t know what’s going to happen.” Maggie was looking for answers she’d never find.

“Does anyone?”

“I used to. My life was going along as planned and
wham
, everything fell apart.”

“Exactly. That’s my point.” Stroking her cheek with his thumb, he kissed her, hoping to calm her fears. “Life is a risk.”

He watched her eyes, but it was the soul-stealing kiss she left on his lips that told Will she was ready.

“I need to take off my prosthetic.”

“I’ll help you with that.” He shifted, and like he’d done the previous week, he released the pin holding her leg in position, and gently slid the artificial limb from her jeans.

“I’ll need you to help me get these off,” she said, unzipping the fly.

Nodding, he helped her wiggle out of her jeans until they were on the floor, and Maggie sat on his bed in a pair of lacy panties, and some kind of sheath that worked with her prosthetic. “Tell me if this is okay,” he said, as layer by layer, he removed the neoprene that was embedded with the connecting pin, as well as a sock-like piece that he figured protected her skin.

When he looked at her, without anything but the wispy lace, Will gasped. Her body told her story, all right. It told a story of pain, of bravery, of strength and survival. It told him that he would never be worthy of this woman, but he’d spend the rest of his life trying.

His hand ran up her scarred left thigh, and touched the edge of a tattoo that ran over the front of her hip and stopped at her waist. The vines of pink and pale blue flowers twisted in and out of each other, much like they tracked over her skin. “God, this is beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

“You make me feel beautiful. I… I…”

Will swallowed her tears with kisses, and held her so close, he could feel Maggie’s heart beating in time with his. Like one. Stronger together.

‡

M
aggie hated the
cliché, but no one had ever made her feel like this. Will, with his sweet words, his gentle touch, was healing the wounds no one could see, and crushing the pain that she had felt alone. She was bare, emotionally and physically, and for the first time in two years she wasn’t running, she wasn’t hiding, and she wasn’t pushing him away. She felt good,
so good
, happy and very thankful.

“God, Will… don’t stop. Please.”

“Not until you tell me.” He was leaving a trail of kisses over her belly. She watched his progress, anticipating what he had in mind. What he did shocked her.

Without warning, he eased her panties down, and returned to kissing her, starting at her the inside of her left thigh. He caressed the end of the limb, touching her like a woman, not a patient, not a casualty.

“I am in awe of you. Of what you’ve overcome.” He kissed the inside of each thigh. Then he did it again, moving higher. Again. A little higher.

“Oh, God…” Her breathing was short, anticipating what he was going to do.

He looked up, grinning. “You ready? Because I can’t wait to watch you unravel.”

“You’re going to ruin me.”

“Well, if that’s supposed to mean for anyone else, I’m okay with that. I want you all to myself, Maggie.”

This was not supposed to happen to her. She was a thirty-year-old amputee and burn victim—no one was supposed to love her again, especially not a man like Will. He was so kind, so good, and so wickedly handsome, and he wanted her. It was unbelievable, but she was over fighting it.

Will’s mouth was teasing the inside of her thighs, at the same time his hair elicited tiny giggles.

“You like that?”

“It tickles.”

“Really? I wonder what other sounds I can get out of you.”

The challenge was all he needed. His mouth moved up and covered her. It was very possible Maggie screamed, but she wasn’t sure. Like a wild woman, she tried to pull away, but Will wouldn’t let her. Holding onto her legs, keeping her thighs spread wide, he nipped, teased, and stroked her with his tongue, undoing her with each touch.

The heat surprised her. Building in her belly, it was coupled with a tingling feeling, a burn that spread through her at lightning speed.

Pulsing, all her nerve endings fired at once, launching her like a rocket. Her body arched and for a moment she stopped breathing, absorbing all the energy before collapsing on the bed, her chest heaving and her mind blown.

Throwing her forearm over her eyes, she felt Will kissing his way back up her belly, stopping to tease each nipple, intensifying the muscle contractions low in her belly, and arousing her all over again.

“Come here,” she said, drawing him up so she could kiss him.

Will grinned. “I would never have pegged you for a screamer.”

“I didn’t scream.” Maggie feigned insult. It was entirely possible she did, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of admitting it. She was, however, going to enjoy it.

“You absolutely did, and I’ll prove it by making you scream again.” Will turned on his side, and Maggie did the same, so the two of them were face to face with full body contact. She loved how he felt. Hard. Strong. His skin was smooth and dusted with hair. And his erection—it was impressive. She reached between them and touched him. He was long, thick, and when she stroked the length of him, Will groaned.

“Now you’re just bragging,” Maggie teased. “I wonder if I could make you scream?”

Will ran his hand over her hip, and up the side of her body, going slowly and touching each spot carefully. It was like he was reading her, and it was intimate and frightening at the same time. “It’s strange,” she said, “the way my skin feels, but I’ve gotten used to it.”

“I want to know you. Your scars are part of that.”

Burying her face in his chest, she couldn’t bring herself to think about how she looked and felt.

Still moving his hands, slowly and deliberately, Will dropped his head to her ear. “Each dimple, each patch of new skin, has defined you. You’re amazing, Maggie. So beautiful, so soft and lovely. Brilliant…” His lips skimmed over her cheek. “I just want to make you happy.”

“You do. God, Will… you do.” She stroked his face.

“Maggie—”

“Make love to me. Make me forget how I’m different, and just let me feel like a woman.” Unsure, unable to wait, Maggie rolled to her back, taking Will with her. Raising himself over her, she let her hands roam, let her lips caress his skin.