Hot Christmas Kisses

“I’ve missed you.”

DJ tipped back her head to look into his eyes, her cynical side wondering if he said that as a way to talk her into bed. But the look on his face was sincere, his eyes radiating honesty. Besides, Matt didn’t use coercion. She was either fully on board or he backed off; Matt did not whine or beg or force.

Besides, they both knew she was going to slide into bed with him the moment she saw him standing in the doorway. She was putty in his hands.

“You, half-naked in sexy lingerie, is my early Christmas present.” Matt lifted a curl off her forehead and tucked it behind her ear. His mouth curled up into a deprecating half smile. “But I’m embarrassed to tell you that I hightailed it out of my office to make my flight and I’ve been rushing ever since. I didn’t want to be late, so I didn’t stop to buy condoms. You wouldn’t happen to have any, would you?”

DJ shook her head. Well, crap. Matt never, ever made love to her without one.

“So, damn. No condoms. Maybe we should go to the church and pick this up later.”

Oh, hell, no.

“Or we could just carry on...” DJ ran her finger down his hard erection before fumbling with the snap on his pants.

Matt groaned. “Dylan-Jane, oral isn’t enough. I need to be inside you. I’ll go pick up some condoms and come back. We’ll miss the service, but we could still make the reception.”

Hearing his rough, growly, frustrated voice, DJ melted. “I’m on the pill, Matt. I’m clean, there hasn’t been anyone since we last hooked up, and if you can tell me you are...”

Matt nodded. “Yeah, I am.” He kissed her lips before pulling back again. “Can I trust you with this, Dylan-Jane? There won’t be any unexpected surprises?”

If he knew her better, he wouldn’t have to ask. Sure, the time they spent together was a fantasy, hot and wild, but that wasn’t the person she was in real life. In Boston, she didn’t do the unexpected and she hated surprises. Her life was planned, regulated, controlled.

And a baby was Darby’s dream, not DJ’s.

“I’ve got this, Matt.” DJ pushed his pants and boxers down his hips, wound her arms around his strong neck and lowered her mouth onto his, whispering her words against his lips. “Come inside me, Matt, it’s been too damn long.”

Matt didn’t hesitate, quickly pushing her panties to the side. He slid inside her, held her there and then lowered her to the bed. Gathering her to him, DJ knew that he’d try to be a gentleman—he always tried to make their first encounter together slow and reverential. She didn’t need either—she needed hot and hard and fast.

“Matt, I need to burn,” DJ told him in a tortured whisper.

Matt pushed himself up and slowly rolled his hips. When she released a low moan, he smiled.

He had a repertoire of smiles, from distracted to dozy, but this one was her favorite: part pirate, part choirboy, all wicked.

“Well, then, let’s light a match, Dylan-Jane.”

Matt slid his hands under her hips, lifted her up, slammed into her and catapulted her into that white-hot, delicious fire she’d longed for.

She was almost, but not quite, tempted to murmur “Merry Christmas to me.”

One (#u5fb66e2a-be0d-567c-baa0-5b530d5e8cd7)

Nearly a year later...

In the public area at Logan International Airport, Matt Edwards ignored the crowds and maneuvered his way around the flower bearers and card holders. He’d mastered the art of walking and working his smartphone: there were ten messages from his office and a few text messages. None, dammit, were from Dylan-Jane.

Despite reaching out over a week ago, she’d yet to give him a definitive answer about them getting together in Boston.

Maybe she was making him wait because he’d been out of touch for so long. But he’d been busy and it just happened that they’d had less contact this year than usual. A lot less. But he was here now, and he was hopeful they could recapture some of their old magic.

“Matt!”

Matt turned, saw the tall frame of his old friend Noah Lockwood striding toward him and smiled. Well, this was a pleasant surprise.

Matt pushed his phone into the inside pocket of his black jacket before shaking Noah’s hand. “It’s great to see you, but what are you doing here?”

Noah fell into step beside him. “I’ve just dropped Jules off. She’s flying to New York to meet a client. I knew you were coming in today, saw the flight times and thought I’d buy you a beer.”

An excellent plan. It had been months, maybe even more than a year, since he and Noah had exchanged anything other than a brief phone call or a catch-up email. At college, they’d been tight, and despite their busy lives, he still considered Noah a friend.

Noah had also introduced Matt to DJ, and for that he’d always be grateful.

“I’d love a beer.”

They walked to the nearest bar and Matt headed to two empty seats at the far end of the joint, tucking his suitcase between him and the wall before he slid onto the barstool. Within minutes he had a glass of an expensive microbrew in front of him.

Noah raised his glass and an enquiring eyebrow. “What brings you back to Boston?”

How to answer? Matt ignored the ache in that triangle where his ribs met. This visit, unlike those quick visits to see his grandfather, was going to be...difficult.

Emotional. Draining. Challenging.

All the things he most tried to avoid.

“I’m moving my grandfather into an assisted-living facility.” Stock answer.

Noah looked surprised. “The judge is moving out of his home? Why?”

Matt took a sip of his beer before rubbing his eyes. “He’s showing signs of dementia and Alzheimer’s. He can’t live on his own anymore.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Noah said. “How long are you going to be in town for?”

Matt tapped his finger against his glass. “I’m not sure, but since I don’t have any court appearances scheduled until the New Year, probably until after Christmas. So, for the next three weeks at least.”

Noah’s eyes were steady on his face and Matt felt the vague urge to tell his friend the other reason he was in Boston. But talking wasn’t something he found easy to do.

Noah didn’t push, but changed the subject by asking another question. “So, are you going to contact DJ while you’re in town?”

Matt sent Noah a sour look. “Who’s asking, you or your fiancée?”

Noah grinned. “Jules’s last words to me weren’t ‘I love you, you’re such a stud,’ but ‘get Matt to tell you why he and DJ haven’t spoken for nearly a year.’”

Matt shook his head. “You are so whipped, man.”

Noah just grinned.

“I thought Jules and Darby would be happy to hear that DJ and I drifted apart. They aren’t my biggest fans.”