Lone Star Twins

Sashaying forward, she turned, giving him a 360-degree view of the dress peeled down to the waist. Facing him, she continued her striptease.

Not wanting it to be over too soon, Trace goaded. “No music?”

Poppy stopped. Rolled her eyes. Sauntered over to the CD player on her bureau and pushed Play without even looking. The strains of the “Hallelujah Chorus” burst forth, prompting them both to burst into gales of laughter.

“Good choice,” Trace said, getting immediately to his feet.

“What are you doing?” Poppy asked.

“Isn’t it customary to stand for the finale of Handel’s Messiah?”

She knew full well, as did he, that it was.

But it wasn’t the rousing sounds of the traditional oratorio that had his heart pumping. Or hers, either, he guessed. Today it was all them...

But not wanting her to know—just yet anyway—how wickedly excited he was, lest he ruin the mounting anticipation for her, too, he waited for her to make the next move.

Her sable brown eyes lit with a lively, impetuous light. Inhaling deeply, eyes locked with his, she stepped out of her dress and then the petticoat. Then slowly, erotically, moved toward him in nothing but the bustier, garter belt and thigh-high stockings, and the tiniest bikini panties he had ever seen.

When she was just out of reach, she stopped.

It was all he could do not to groan in frustration, as she began taking the pins from her hair, until it, too, spilled over her shoulders in a tumble of dark, silky-brown curls.

Unable to hold back, he breathed, “You are so damn beautiful.”

The adrenaline rush of Handel playing in the background, Poppy sashayed closer still. “Mmm-hmm.” She tilted her face up to his mischievously. “Your turn.” Her eyes drifted over him appreciatively. “Lieutenant...”

Aware he was already way too aroused to hold back for long, he warned, “Poppy...”

She stepped away and tilted her head tauntingly. “Unless you don’t dare?”

Oh, he dared, all right.

Still appreciating the view, he tugged his T-shirt over his head. Spun around, just as she had.

Her soft laughter filled the room.

Hands spread on either side of him, miming a model showing off the garments, he let her look her fill, then hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his pants and pushed them down.

Instead of the white military-issue briefs he knew she was expecting, he was wearing a pair of black silk boxers with red hearts all over them.

Chuckling merrily, she let her gaze drift lower, to the outline of his male anatomy pushing against the silk.

No hiding his desire now.

“Nice,” she said softly as the first song ended and “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” began.

Unable to wait a second longer, sensing she wasn’t either, Trace prowled toward her. “Not as nice as you,” he said, running his thumbs over the crests of her breasts pushing against the sheer fabric.

Her arms came up to wrap around his neck.

Rising on tiptoe, she moved all the way into his arms. Then, pressing her body flush against his, she threaded her hands through his hair, all the tenderness he had ever wanted to see shimmering in her misty brown eyes. “Now, you see? This is why you always end up seducing me.” She kissed him soulfully.

“Really?” Cupping her face in both hands, he returned her kiss with every ounce of pent-up passion that he had. Feeling her shudder, he took her by the hand and led her over to stand next to the bed. Satisfaction roared through him. “Because all this time, I thought it was you seducing me.”

She watched as he unlaced the front of her bustier and the luscious mounds of her breasts fell free. “You know it’s mutual.”

Relishing the sight of her partially dressed as much as completely undressed, he turned his attention to the convenient little bows on either side of her bikini panties. A tug of each and those, too, slid right off.

Her eyes darkened. “You’re going to ravish me, aren’t you?”

Still kissing her, determined to give her all the pleasure she deserved, he backed her playfully to the wall. His palms and fingertips made a leisurely tour of her body. “Oh, yeah...”

With a soft sigh of acquiescence, she lifted her arms to his shoulders. Trembled when he found the sensitive place between her thighs. Desire shot through him. He loved the way she responded to him, the way she insisted, even now, on giving back, by sifting her palms over her shoulders, down his spine, to cup and mold his buttocks.

He moved his mouth to her breasts, nibbling and suckling, making sure there was nothing he missed. Her nipples pebbled all the more, her eyes widened in excitement, and the satin of her skin grew as hot as the fire burning inside him.

Damn. But he loved her like this. All soft and womanly. Rocking against him, so reckless and open to everything...

He rose and took her mouth again, determined not to let it go by too fast, yet able to tell from the quickening meter of her breath she needed more, too, just as he did. Wedging his knee between her legs, he spread them wide and brought his leg up, so she could ride his thigh. She moaned and melted into his body, rubbing, seeking, finding, her tongue tangling with his, until he was as lost in their embrace as she was. Her breath caught even more as he stroked her, finding her center, the wet, velvety heat.

“Trace?” She kissed him again.

He kissed her back, still stroking and touching, making her his. Quivering, her hands found the waistband of his boxers, slid inside to cup him. She whispered, “I don’t think I can wait...”

Another thing he loved about her.

She was okay with living in the moment. And then finding another. And another...

Grinning, he peeled off his boxers. She climbed his body and still resting against the wall, wrapped her legs around his waist. One clever move on her part, and he was inside. Overcome with the feel of her slick, wet heat, he pushed even deeper. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to go, darlin’.”

He moaned as she clamped even tighter around him, bringing him home...

“Exactly what I thought when you first undressed me. And yet...” She pressed her mouth to his, kissing him softly, erotically, finding the same easy timeless rhythm of penetration and withdrawal. She sighed wantonly. “Here we are...”

“Together again,” he rasped, letting her call all the shots the first time they made love during a reunion, the way he always did. Being each other’s soft place to fall...

* * *

TWO ADDITIONAL BOUTS of hot lovemaking and a short nap later, Poppy and Trace finally showered and headed to her kitchen for a long-delayed first meal of the day

“So what’s on the agenda for today?” Trace asked.

Glad things were finally returning to normal between them—meaning not too serious or intense—Poppy took out the coffee. “Well, I was going to make a new wreath for the front door. Then, I have to run over to the office-supply and craft stores to buy supplies for the Holiday Cards for Soldiers project at the elementary school later this week.”

He lounged against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest “That’s right. You help out with that every year, don’t you?”

Wondering if she would ever get tired of admiring his taut, hard body—never mind the things it could do for her!—she shrugged. “The whole school does. It’s a way to show our military how much we appreciate all they do for us.”