Wicked Christmas Nights: It Happened One Christmas

Now, she wanted him to feel that same unadulterated freedom. Wanted to give him what she’d never given him before. Not just to please him, but also to make him as absolutely crazy as he had made her.

More, though, she wanted that intimacy for her own sake. She’d never viewed oral sex as anything more than foreplay, a tit for tat return on a guy’s earlier tongue investment. This time, though, she wanted to take that thick ridge of male heat into her mouth and explore the flavors of his body. Wanted to taste him, explore him, suck his cock until his willpower gave out, or his legs did.

She scooted away, grabbing his hair and pushing him up. He eyed her from between her legs, his eyes glittering, his mouth moist. “You taste good,” he growled.

Licking her lips, she murmured, “I bet you do, too.”

Sitting up, she became the aggressor, stalking him to the end of the bed, until he hopped off it. Eyeing her hungrily, he said nothing as she scooted to the edge, parting her thighs around his legs.

She was eye level with that wonderful, thick ridge straining against his zipper. Though she felt just as desperate to tear his clothes away, she hesitated, holding her breath. For that moment, she felt like she was about to open a Christmas present—just one, on Christmas Eve, the way she always had as a kid. The excitement of choosing the right one, and the certainty that there would be so many more good things to come all washed over her.

Catching her lip between her teeth, she unbuttoned his jeans, then eased the zipper down. He hissed as her hands brushed against the cotton of his boxer-briefs. Burying his hands in her hair, he held her tightly, not painfully, yet more forceful than she’d ever expect from him. It felt possessive. Demanding. Unlike the tender Ross she’d known, but perfect for the hungry man who’d eaten her like he’d been served his last meal.

Pushing the jeans and briefs down, she took a second to admire his cock—strong, erect and powerful. Lucy moistened her lips, then leaned forward and kissed the tip of it, hearing him groan as skin met skin.

That groan egged her on. She parted her lips, taking him into her mouth, swirling her tongue over and over. She swallowed the hint of moisture his body released, liking the salty taste, wanting a mouthful of it. She didn’t worry that taking him to the edge would cut into what she wanted from him later. Ross was young and vital, and right now he looked like he could easily do her all night long, take a coffee break, then get right back in there and bang her brains out another half-dozen times.

Her thighs clenched, moisture dripping from her sex, still swollen, maybe even a little sore, from the thorough attention of his mouth.

She gave him the same attention, sucking hard. He swayed a little, which she took as a good sign. So she took more of him, deeper into her mouth, until she could take no more. Reaching between his legs, she carefully cupped the taut sacs, timing each stroke of her hand with one of her mouth, pulling away, then sucking him deep, over and over.

His groans deepened. The pace quickened. She knew by the tenseness of those powerful muscles that he was close.

He stopped. “Uh-uh. I’ve waited six years. No way am I coming in your mouth.”

Pulling back, he reached into his pocket and grabbed a condom. As he hurriedly donned it, she considered telling him she had the birth control covered. But she figured they should err on the safe side when they were being so impulsive, so crazy.

Ross shoved his pants completely off, then reached for her. Lucy let him lift her, wrapping her legs around his waist. He held her easily, her bottom cupped in his hands, then backed her against the wall, bracing her between it and his chest.

She sunk her fingers into his hair, tugging his mouth to hers for a deep kiss. He plunged his tongue deep…then did the same thing with his cock.

Oh, yes.

He didn’t move at first, just stood holding her there, impaled on him. She felt her body soften and adjust, taking him completely. Savoring the fullness, she rocked against him, signaling him that he didn’t need to go slow.

She didn’t want him to go slow.

“Next time,” he promised.

“Whatever,” she panted

Then there were no words. Just hard thrusts of his body into hers. Deeper and deeper, he reached heights no one ever had before. Or maybe she was reaching those heights. It certainly felt like she was flying, almost out-of-body with sensation.

Moisture fell on her cheeks. Lucy realized she was crying. But not sad tears, God-it-feels-so-good-and-I’ve-waited-so-long tears.

She closed her eyes, dropped her head back and just took and took and took. The rocking of his groin against hers brought just the right friction and she felt all that familiar pressure boiling up again. Her clit throbbed and swelled. Then the dam burst and she came again.

“Oh, yes, God, yes.”

Her words? His? Both?

She didn’t know. She just knew they were both crying out, both sweating and twisting and thrusting. And finally, both coming.

He groaned, suddenly growing very still. Lucy kissed him. She could feel his pulse thundering, both against her chest, and where he was inside her, and she found herself wishing she had told him not to bother with the condom. She wanted all that heat bursting into her.

Fortunately, however, they were just getting started.

They had time. Plenty of it. Because, judging by the wind battering the building, and the dark snow swirling around the windows, they weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

8 (#ulink_781caa6b-5e10-57bd-8920-cfe04675aa7a)

Then

New York, December 24, 2005

THOUGH ROSS HAD wanted Lucy to call the police right after Jude had slithered out, he had sensed her desperation to get out of her apartment. She didn’t just want to leave, she needed to. He suspected the place suddenly felt tainted to her, and had to wonder how long it would take before she ever felt safe there again.

That definitely wouldn’t happen until he got her locks changed. And no way in hell was she staying there alone until then.

So, after she’d thrown a few things in a bag, they’d headed for his place. After a short walk to his truck, and a long drive out of the city, they arrived in Brooklyn. Every mile put the ugly scene further into the past, and Ross was finally able to begin clearing his mind of the mental images of what might have happened had he not shown up when he did.

The very idea made him sick. And violence surged up within him when he so much as thought Jude’s name.

But now it was time to think about something else. Making sure she was okay and felt safe, for one. Wondering what the hell had happened with his life in the past twelve hours for another.

Nah, he’d think about that tomorrow.

“Here we are,” he said when he pulled up outside the tiny rental house where he lived. It wasn’t much to look at, but it was a place of his own—a place nobody had helped him get. He didn’t love the location, but he loved not feeling like he owed anything to anybody. Especially his father.

“I can’t tell you how much I…”

“Forget it,” he said, waving off her thank you. Probably her twentieth since they’d left her place.

Reaching into the tiny back compartment of the truck, he grabbed her small suitcase and her camera bag, then got out, going around to open her door. She didn’t wait, hopping out before he had made it around the bumper. “What a cute house!”

He raised a brow. “Seriously?”

“Sure. You have a yard and everything. I can’t tell you how much I miss backyard barbecues in the summer.”

“The last tenant left a grill. Maybe I’ll cook up some burgers tomorrow.”

She laughed. “In the snow?”

“You call this snow? Yeesh. Until you’ve experienced a lake effects winter, you don’t know the meaning of snow.”

“I have,” she told him. “I grew up in Chicago.”

Shocked, he almost tripped. “Seriously?” The woman he had begun to suspect was the girl of his dreams had grown up in the same city, and he’d never even been aware of her? That seemed wrong on some cosmic level.