Unexpected Gifts (2 page)

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Authors: Bronwyn Green

Tags: #romance, #holiday, #christmas, #contemporary, #erotic romance, #free

BOOK: Unexpected Gifts
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He rolled down the window. “Get back inside. It’s
freezing out here, and you don’t have a damn coat on.”

“You might as well give it up,” she called out
through chattering teeth. “You’re not getting out of here without
help.”

He pushed on the gas again, and the tires continued
to impotently spin. Finally, he thunked his head on the steering
wheel. “Fantastic.”

“I’d just tell you to take my car, but I don’t think
we can get it out around the truck.” The other side of the driveway
dropped off just as steeply.

Sam looked at her and growled. “Get inside before
you really do get sick!”

Ignoring his directive, she said, “Do you want me to
call a wrecker?”

Sam dropped his head against the back of the seat.
“It’s Christmas Eve. I can’t imagine anyone coming out in
this.”

She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered.
She couldn’t, either. Even if they did get a driver to venture out,
it would cost an arm and a leg.

“I can make up the couch for you,
unless you have someplace you need to be.”
Or someone you need to be with.
And
why did that thought make her stupid heart clench? Despite what
he’d claimed a short while ago, she’d never be more to him than his
best friend’s annoying little sister.

With a guarded expression in his eyes, he rolled up
the window and turned off the ignition. Hopping down from the cab,
he pocketed the keys and followed her through the snow drifts to
the house.

Dread settled in the pit of her stomach. Sam
MacLane would be spending the night.

Chapter Two

 

Sam sat at the kitchen table and watched as Cassie
busied herself putting the kettle on for tea. She kept her back to
him as she fussed with mugs and teabags. He willed her to turn
around. He wanted to stare into her eyes. They were the deepest,
darkest brown he’d ever seen, but their usual warmth was replaced
by wariness. All thanks to his ill-timed, ill-conceived kiss.

He was torn between punching her ex-husband into
unconsciousness and thanking the guy for finally letting Cass see
what an asshole he was.

Sam had realized his feelings for Cass far too late,
but he wasn’t the type to try to bust up a marriage. However, since
her ex had done a fine job of that on his own, Sam also wasn’t the
type to sit around and wait, hoping she’d notice his unrequited
love for her. But, he supposed, he probably should have found
another way to break it to her. He also probably should have found
out how she felt about Tyler. For all Sam knew, she was still in
love with the douche bag.

“I’m sorry you’re stuck with me when you obviously
wanted to be alone.”

She turned to face him again, her lips curved in a
faint smile as she pulled on her slippers. “The pity party was
getting old, anyway.” She leaned on the counter. “I feel bad about
skipping out on the gathering tonight, but I just couldn’t take the
pitying looks or the attempts to set me up with someone else. It’s
only been five months.”

He turned in his chair and faced her fully. “Are you
still in love with him?”

She didn’t meet his gaze. Instead, she looked down
at her hands, at her bare fingers. “No. To be honest, the last
couple years sucked. Right now, I just feel stupid. And a little
sorry for myself.”

He raised his eyebrows at her. “A little?”

Color rose on her cheeks. “Okay, fine. A lot.” She
pulled the foil from the loaf of bread and began slicing it. “Some
days are easier than others. Today, his engagement announcement was
in the morning paper.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. You want some tea?” She turned toward the
stove, clearly changing the subject.

“Sure. But we need to talk about what happened
earlier,” he said.

Her shoulders tensed, and she paused with her hand
on the handle of the cupboard. “No, we don’t. What kind would you
like?” she asked, her voice almost shrill in the wake of his
words.

“Whatever you’re making is fine, and, yes, we
do.”

Her hands fluttered from cupboard to stovetop and
back again—never really pausing long enough to do anything.
Standing, he pushed back his chair, the legs scraping loudly on the
floor. She froze at the sound, her hands falling still on the
counter.

Sam moved to stand behind her, his hands settling on
her rigid shoulders. She was still chilled from going outside
without a coat.

“Look,” she said quietly. “I appreciate that you’re
trying to help me feel better about the whole breakup with Tyler,
but you don’t need to pretend to be interested in me to do it.”

His fingers tightened slightly on
her shoulders while his body shook with silent laughter. “Pretend?”
he managed to choke out. “You think I’m
pretending
to be interested in you?”
He stepped closer, pressing his front to her back, his groin
grazing the upper swell of her ass. Just that tiny bit of contact
was enough to make his cock start to swell.

Leaning forward, he brushed his lips against the
outer shell of her ear, loving the shiver that ran through her at
the contact. “Trust me when I tell you I’m not pretending. Granted,
I was stupid and didn’t figure out how much I wanted you before it
was too late. But, now…” He let the words hover in the suddenly
heavy air.

Cassie said nothing. Finally, her head dropped
forward, and she took a deep breath. “It’s not that I don’t
appreciate what you’re trying to do, Sam.” Her voice broke on his
name, but she pushed on. “But, it’s not necessary.”

Gripping her shoulders, he spun her to face him.
“You really think that’s all this is?” he snapped.

“We’ve known each other for fifteen years. What else
would it be?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Let me think. How about that I’m
finally admitting to both of us how much I want you?”

“I. Don’t. Need. Your. Pity.” She finally met his
gaze, her eyes shimmering.

He stifled a growl of frustration. Grabbing her
hand, he pressed it against the growing bulge behind his fly. His
cock jerked against her palm. Her breath caught in her throat, and
he felt the sound in his gut.

“Does this feel remotely like pity to you?”

Her tongue darted out and moistened her lips, and he
almost groaned at the sight. He cupped the back of her neck and
tugged her forward, claiming her lips.

Her fingers slipped from his grasp, and her breath
puffed into his mouth along with a squeak of surprise. Her hands
trembled against his chest before fisting in his shirt as she
slowly relaxed in increments against him. Slipping his tongue
between her parted lips, he took his time, thoroughly tasting
her.

Becoming bolder by the second, Cassie
reached up and drove her fingers through his hair, sending shivers
down his spine as her short nails abraded his scalp. He slid his
hands underneath the hem of her shirt, caressing the soft warmth of
her lower back. Her skin was so smooth, so silky. Greedily, he
stroked upward, his fingertips skimming across the back of her bra.
He wanted her naked and twined around him, now. But he didn’t want
to push her. Didn’t want to frighten her with the depth of his
need.

Forcing himself to slow down, he lifted his
hand from beneath her shirt and pulled her hair tie from her hair,
freeing the long, sleek strands to swing around her shoulders. He
pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses along the side of her neck before
skimming his lips to the hollow at the base of her throat. Her
pulse hammered against his mouth, and he nipped at her collarbone,
making her squirm against him before tracing his way back to her
lips. She immediately opened for him, seeming almost as desperate
for more as he was. But he tried to back off a little. To linger
and give her time to get used to him touching her. He didn’t want
this to be something she ended up regretting. His attempt at
slowing down utterly disintegrated when she drew on his tongue.

On a groan, he deepened the kiss, pulling
her flush against him. She moved willingly, wrapping her arms
around him, clutching at his shoulders. He couldn’t believe she was
finally in his arms, let alone pressed close to him with her
nipples pebbled against his chest. He needed more. More contact.
More Cassie. More everything.

 

Cassie trembled, but it had nothing to do
with the cold. Molding her mouth, Sam kissed her with a shattering
hunger. No one had ever kissed her like that—as if she were more
precious than oxygen. Deftly, he turned so her back flattened
against the wall, and he pressed along her length. A strangled moan
vibrated in her throat at the sensation of his thick cock digging
into her stomach. God, she wanted him. She shouldn’t, though. She
should push him away. This was a terrible idea. The last thing she
needed to do was get involved with Sam. Her body disagreed. As if
it had a will of its own, she found herself rocking her hips
against his as he ground into her.

Desire, stronger than she’d ever known,
raced through her blood, stoked higher with each touch. One of his
hands slid to her waist and hesitated before following the curve of
her bottom. He tightened his arms around her, and she felt the heat
rolling off him as he lifted his head.

“Look at me,” he rasped, but she kept her
eyes squeezed shut. He traced her collarbone with his callused
forefinger, letting it dip between her breasts, then followed the
swell upward with the roughened fingertip, sending shivers through
her. Leaning forward, he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses along the
path he’d just taken. “Open your eyes and see what you’re doing to
me.”

If she kept her eyes shut, she could pretend
this wasn’t happening. Pretend this was all a figment of her
lust-filled, overactive imagination.

“Cass.” He spoke softly against her skin,
each breath stroking her senses into a higher awareness of him. He
trailed dark, heated kisses along the side of her neck, heedless of
the quake he’d started within her. Grasping his jacket, she pushed
it off his shoulders and onto the floor. But there was still too
many layers separating them.

Plucking at his shirt buttons, she released
them, baring his tightly muscled chest to her wandering hands. She
still couldn’t quite bring herself to open her eyes—to make this
real—to actually admit to herself that she was undressing Sam
MacLane. In her kitchen.

He gripped her hands and
held them firmly against his chest, his lips at her ear. “I need
you to look at me. I need to know that you’re actually here
with
me. I don’t want you
to get carried away and regret this later.”

She inhaled deeply a few times before slowly
opening her eyes. Her gaze traveled over the expanse of chest
revealed by his open shirt, before climbing upward over the strong
column of his throat to his stubbled jaw and kiss-swollen lips.
Forcing her gaze up a little farther, she met the brilliant blue of
his eyes. Intense arousal mixed with concern.

She swallowed heavily. “I know what I’m
doing,” she whispered. She couldn’t promise she wouldn’t regret it
later, but it was what she had to offer now. And she wanted him.
Badly. Who knew if this chance would ever present itself again?

He studied her as if he wasn’t sure he could
trust her response.

Fearing he’d change his mind, she gripped
the bottom of her sweater and pulled it up and off her body,
letting it drop to the floor by their feet. To his credit, he held
her gaze for what seemed like forever before his eyes lowered to
her lace-covered breasts.

His breath caught in his chest, and her
nipples hardened in response to the desire in his expression and
the chilliness in the air. His hands tightened on her hips, and he
lowered his head to take her mouth again. Sliding a hand upward, he
brushed his thumb back and forth beneath the underside of her
breast, raising goose bumps across her skin. She leaned backward
and tugged him toward her. The cold plaster chilled her back, and
the heated expanse of his chest warmed hers. After waiting for what
felt like a year, he cupped an aching breast. Her nipple contracted
against the lace, pressing into his palm. Tugging the bra cup
aside, he freed her breast and bent down to suckle the aching tip
into his mouth.

Sensation shot through her, making her pussy
clench emptily. She couldn’t remember ever being this desperate to
have a man inside her, but she’d never had a chance to have Sam
before, either. She shoved his shirt off his shoulders, tugging at
it to free his arms. It had been a while since she’d seen him
without a shirt. If possible, he was even more gorgeous than she
remembered.

He reached around and unhooked her bra
clasp, and she quickly shimmied out of the restraining garment,
pressing her bared breasts to his chest. The skin on skin contact
made them both gasp. Reaching between them, he unfastened her
jeans, and she kicked them off to land somewhere near her sweater.
Lifting a leg, she tried to wrap it around him to pull him
closer.

Somehow, she had that feeling that even
having him inside her wouldn’t be close enough. But she’d take
whatever she could get. He might want her now, but she doubted that
feeling would last. It certainly hadn’t for Tyler. Viciously
shoving away thoughts of her ex and her dismal marriage, she
focused on the sensation of Sam’s fingers and lips plucking at her
nipples.

He slipped his hand beneath her ass and
lifted her until her legs were around his waist and the hard bulge
of his cock was notched against her cunt. He thrust a few times,
rocking against her, the rough denim deliciously chafing her clit
through her now sodden underwear. Pleasure speared sharply through
her core as her pulse pounded through her veins. A shuddering,
melty feeling settled heavily in her abdomen as she ground herself
against him.

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