I'll Be Yours for Christmas (9 page)

She nodded, moaning a little.

He was studying her body the way he must have studied a race course, or more accurately, tasting her like a good wine, she thought hazily, too immersed in sensation to argue. She'd been
done
plenty of times, but she'd never been paid attention to like this.

He dragged his lips down the inside of her thigh, and worked his way back up, nudging her legs apart with his shoulders.

His tongue found her, but only lightly, flicking at her clit, a butterfly touch that had her nearly screaming, writhing on the bed.

“Reece, please, I need you,” she said, panting, but she obeyed, leaving her hands where he'd put them. It was driving her crazy, in the best possible way.

He licked her a little harder this time, and his fingers found their way inside of her—one, then two and then, making her eyes widen, another teased the other opening to her body, penetrating slightly. She tensed at the unexpected sensation, then relaxed. Her entire body shivered with the pleasure of his fingers and mouth everywhere.

“That feels so good,” she said.

“And this?” he whispered against her sex, so softly she wasn't sure he really said anything before he kissed her again on pulsing, sensitive flesh.

“Yes,” she said desperately, wanting more of everything, thrusting against him. “Please,” she begged.

Reece was someone she'd known for so long, but she knew in that instant that she didn't know anything about him at all. He seemed to know what she fantasized about, what she wanted that maybe she didn't even know to ask for. He continued to press, to lick and to thrust until she cried out, arching off the bed, her body bent in ecstasy.

He moved back up, and levered over her, pulling her legs up over his shoulders.

“I need this so much,” he said roughly, staring down into her face as he poised himself before her, rubbing and teasing her sex with his cock until both of them were mindless. When she was about to beg, he eased forward,
sliding inside and filling her deeply, adjusting her legs so that he could go even deeper.

Oh, thank you,
Abby thought, her entire body expressing a sigh of wonder as he started moving.

“You're so wet,” he said, his jaw tight with the effort of control he was exerting. “So hot inside,” he said, continuing to describe what he felt, what he wanted to do to her, in exacting detail until she wanted to just beg him to make it all real.

There was little she could do to control the pace at her angle, so she traced her hands and lips over hard lines of his chest, shoulders and hips. Every muscle was tense as he rocked into her in a steady rhythm.

She ran her fingers over his scars, exploring the different textures of his skin, then across the light hair on his chest, and over male nipples that beaded, drawing a groan from him as she pinched.

“You moved your hands,” he said breathlessly.

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

He turned his face to the side, planting wet kisses on the side of her knee, and she whimpered as the sensation traveled all the way back down through her thighs to the eddy of pleasure between her legs.

It was all too good, but she needed more. She was so close, and reached down to touch him as he moved in and out, her fingers firm around the base of his erection.

“That's so hot, Abby,” he said, watching.

She pressed on her clit then, rubbing, knowing what she needed and liking the way he watched so greedily. Hot sensation immediately coursed through her body,
everything tightening, her muscles clenching down on his cock so hard it almost ached.

“Oh, yeah, Abby,” he ground out, thrusting faster, deeper.

Suddenly all of the tightness melted, her climax overcoming her and drawing him along as well. Abby had never felt anything quite so pure in her life, she was sure of it.

Minutes later, Reece released her legs and fell to her side, pulling her over next to him as they both caught their breath, calming down from what Abby was sure had to be the most intense, incredible sex she'd ever had.

“I may not be able to move from this bed today,” she said jokingly, though when she did try to move her leg, it felt like spaghetti. Her muscles felt as if they actually had melted.

“You'll get no arguments from me,” Reece said with evil glee, propping up on one elbow at her side. He ran his finger along her sternum, down her belly, and stopped at the edge of her sex. “I thought about tying you to it at one point.”

She was surprised, then she smiled.

“Maybe we could take turns.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“I still can't feel my legs,” she admitted, laughing.

“I'm a bit dizzy myself, but even so, I want more,” he said, leaning in for a kiss.

“Me, too,” she said, touching his face, running her finger along his lips. He darted his tongue out to taste her. “I want more, too.”

“We can do anything,” he said. “Everything. Whatever you want or need. Just say so.”

In the years since her few crazy experiences in college, her lovers had been nice but uncreative men, the sex more or less vanilla, and she hadn't realized how many fantasies she had packed away. If Reece was willing to explore them with her…?

“Maybe I should write up a list, you know, like for Santa. All the things I want you to do to me, and what I'd like to do to you,” she said naughtily, grinning.

“Hmm…that could be interesting. We could make it our goal to make sure every item is attended to,” he said, trailing his hand over her breast, in long strokes up and down her torso, down her arm, back up again, back over her breast until she trembled.

She wanted him again, right now. Amazing.

“Roll over.”

“Why?”

“Just do it,” he said, commanding but gentle.

With a little shiver of pleasure, she did, snuggling down into the soft material of his comforter. It was warm and soft, smelling like sex, and she was in heaven.

Reece pushed up, balancing himself as he levered over her, straddling the backs of her thighs, and then she felt the next-best thing to sex that she could imagine as his hands slid up either side of her spine and continued to massage in slow, thorough motions.

“That feels amazing…where did you learn to give massages?” she said.

“Here and there…but giving a massage can feel as good as getting one,” he responded.

As he worked her neck, she sighed. “Somehow I doubt
that,” she said on another sigh, followed by a moan as he leaned forward and was inside of her again, moving in a lazy rhythm that matched the motion of his hands.

She'd never even imagined so much physical sensation being possible. He kept rubbing, moving over her and inside of her until she was clawing her fingers into the quilt and rotating her hips beneath him. It was so slow, it was torture. It was perfect.

His hands slipped down to work their magic on her derriere, massaging and squeezing. She pushed up on her elbows, thrusting back against him, seeking more. He kept up the constant gentle rhythm, a steady beat of pleasure, as if making love to her was a song. She fell to the bed again, giving herself up to him and enjoying every second of it.

He never stopped touching her, through her orgasm and then through his own. Abby drifted off to sleep later, thinking that she'd definitely given herself the best Christmas present she could have ever imagined.

 

R
EECE HADN'T FELT SO
good since, well, since he couldn't remember. He'd slept some more after making love to Abby, and it had been a deep, dreamless, drugless sleep, which he hadn't known in quite some time.

When he saw the mess he'd made of the nightstand, breaking one of his mother's antique lamps, he wished he could remember the dream. The only impression he was ever left with was that of being horribly trapped, dying, until someone touched him. Abby. As if she had reached directly into his terror and made it stop.

He cleaned the mess while she was still sleeping, liking the way her foot dangled over the edge of his bed.
A silly thing to trip his heart rate, but nearly enough to make him slide his hand up the arch and crawl back in with her. He'd lived in France too long not to have developed at least a little bit of a romantic streak, he guessed, as he smiled at her pretty pink toes.

Instead, he pulled himself away and pushed through a punishing workout, especially after the wonderful but rich dinner Abby had cooked the night before.

He'd been way off the nutritional regimen that he usually adhered to during the year, but things were always a little more slack around the holidays—more sweets, more wine—and so he had to make up for it with exercise.

Racing was more punishing on the body that most people imagined, requiring a lot of strength to turn a car that was pushing down three Gs. He had to work twice as hard now.

He was feeling strong today, though. Energized. There was no numbness, no pins and needles. A second round of push-ups was interrupted by the doorbell, and he went quickly to answer, hoping not to wake Abby. Much to his surprise, Charles stood at the door, frowning through the ring of the wreath Abby had hung over the panes of glass the day before.

“What the hell is all of this?” Charles asked, looking back at the trees set up on the large front lawn as he stepped inside.

“Good morning to you, too,” Reece said dryly, not offering to take Charles's coat. “To what do I owe this impromptu visit so very early in the morning?”

Charles glared. “It's not impromptu—we have an appointment with the Keller rep in a half hour, and I
thought we had talked about staging? Why all the trees and lights? What's going on?”

Reece had been remiss in telling Charles about Abby moving in, and so he proceeded to do that, watching the real estate agent's face redden as he spoke. When he was done, Charles didn't say anything, but went outside, peering over across the field past the trees on the lawn to the blackened buildings on the hill before he stomped back in.

“Okay, okay, let's not panic. This could work for us.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we'd talked about her selling, in a package deal with you, right? Maybe now that would be even more appealing—certainly more appealing than having that right in the line of view from the front door. And that barn—that alone would bring down the property value—”

Reece held up his hand. “Stop right there. The barn is fine, she keeps her horses there, and I can guarantee you there's no way she's selling. And I know she'd regret causing us any inconvenience by having her home almost burnt to the ground,” he said, not bothering to hide his sarcasm, “but I'm letting her work through the end of the holiday season here, period. It's good for us, too, since I have inventory to clear out.”

“So why all the trees? You selling those, too, now?”

“It's for a tasting event. They are having a tree-decorating contest and giving away a case of wine and a weekend at their inn, when it's rebuilt, to the winner.”

“Cute. But we can't have this all going on while we're trying to show the place—she'll have to be willing to clear out when we're bringing prospective buyers through.”

Reece pushed a hand though his hair, and didn't have time to argue as another car pulled up in front of the house, and a burly man in a black suit approached the house. He stopped and looked out over the land, and Reece could see him bulldozing just by how he surveyed the property.

Reece didn't bother to grab a jacket and the three of them walked the property, the Keller rep obviously liking what he saw. Reece liked what he saw, too. It had been a while since he'd walked the land, taking in the view of crystal blue Cayuga Lake, breathing in the clean air.

Standing among the rolling hills of vines, snow bright on the branches of trees that marked the boundaries, he wondered how he'd never noticed how similar the place was to where he lived in France. Just as beautiful, just as pristine. Showing it to the Keller sales rep was like seeing it himself for the first time.

“We'd be willing to offer you top dollar, Winston. This is a great location, driving distance to the city, and having bought it from a famous local celebrity can only add to its draw. We're thinking we could use the local vineyards as a jumping-off point, give the development a vineyard theme, all of the streets named after certain kind of grapes, maybe name the place Vineyard Hills, or something to that effect,” the man said, obviously getting way ahead of himself.

“Yeah, I always wondered about that,” Reece said. “Why developers come into a place, clear out all the pine trees and then name them all after what they cleared out…”

Charles glared, but the Keller rep laughed and slapped
him on the shoulder. Reece had expected some slimy sales guy, but this man was local and down-to-earth in a way a lot of central New York people were. He didn't take offense at all.

“Just the way of the business, I guess.”

Reece liked him, which made it harder to think of Keller as so bad. He was a businessman looking to do business, and so why did it all irritate him so much?

“The property down the line might be for sale as well,” Charles added as they stood on the front porch again, nodding down toward Abby's place. “Maybe we could work out some kind of package deal?”

“Charles—” Reece interrupted, but he didn't get far.

“I'd have to talk to the boss, but that could be a very appealing prospect,” Keller agreed. “I know you want to sell, and we'd be happy to talk about some kind of package, but we're also looking at a prime piece of property over on Kueka, so we'll decide which way we want to go, but we won't wait indefinitely,” he said.

Reece nodded and bit his tongue as he noticed movement inside the window. Abby was up. He wasn't going to get into this now. They shook hands with a promise to stay in contact, and the Keller guy left.