A Savannah Christmas Wish

He did.

Bess unsnapped her bra and flung it aside. She rolled her hips against his. “Oh, that feels good.”

His erection ignored the voice in his head shouting stop. He anchored her against the door with his hips and one hand.

“Touch me.” She grabbed his free hand and placed it on her breast.

They were spinning out of control. He had Bess up against a door. Bess. He hadn’t had so much to drink that he couldn’t recognize a bad idea when it hit him like a two-by-four. She hated him.

Instead of stopping, he lifted her higher, sucking a tight nipple into his mouth. It tasted tangy just like her.

“Yes.” She arched back and her head thunked against the wood.

Supporting her with a forearm, he freed his hand and pinched her other nipple. The skirt of her dress rolled up to her waist. He shifted and their groins rubbed together.

Her fingers dived into his hair, holding him in place. Sweet, tortured sounds rumbled in her chest.

He switched from one breast to the other. There were reasons he stayed away from Bess, good reasons, but he couldn’t remember a single one. He wanted to take her right here in the doorway.

Bess ran her teeth along his ear. “You’re overdressed.”

Heat streamed through him. He let her body slide partway down his. “We can fix that.” His voice sounded as if he’d swallowed gravel.

Her fingers worked on his tie. She tugged and it went flying. She pushed off his jacket as he juggled her body and worked his shirt buttons free.

His fingers ran up her thigh, brushing against a tiny slip of silk. His erection surged. He could push the silk aside and be in her in a slick second, but he was missing something. “Condom.”

Her head jerked up. “Bedroom.”

They stumbled down the hallway, his hands cradling her butt, her legs wrapped around his hips.

Clothes covered the bed. He dropped her in the middle and followed her down. His only goal was getting inside her hot body.

“Unzip me.” She rolled to her side. “Please.”

Daniel found the tab and dragged it down, kissing every inch of the lemony skin he uncovered. By the time he’d tugged the zip free, Bess squirmed under his lips.

He backed away. She wiggled out of the dress and the slip of yellow between her legs.

The last time they’d been together, he’d been drunk. Not drunk enough to keep him from performing—poorly—but enough to forget most of the details. No way would he forget tonight.

She hopped on the bed. “Get your clothes off. You’re behind.”

She pushed his shirt off his chest, imprisoning his arms.

“I can’t get my pants off like this,” he complained.

“Let me.” She tugged on his belt buckle, flipped the fly button open and ran the zipper over his straining erection. Her fingers reached in, wrapping around him like a vise.

His groan echoed in the dark room. He needed to take control or this would be over too soon. There was a rip and his shirt loosened enough to get one hand out.

He kissed her, rolling her underneath him. He was in charge now.

“Hey.”

He pushed off his wet pants and underwear, everything tangling on his soggy shoes. He scrambled off the bed, sliding to the floor in a tangled heap. “Find a condom,” he called up, separating his pants from his wet shoes.

A drawer screeched. Foil crinkled.

He vaulted back onto the bed, snatched the condom from her fingers and sheathed himself.

She cradled him between her legs.

Their lips came together in a deep, penetrating kiss. His hands wrapped around her hips, tugging her up. She guided him inside and he slid home.

Sparks flashed behind his closed eyelids. His breath bellowed. He heard her small moans. Their bodies fit together like a dovetail joint. Perfect.

“You feel...amazing.” Too amazing. He couldn’t slow down, sliding faster and faster in and out of her incredible body. Panic built as his control slipped. Each thrust drove him to the edge of madness.

“Ooh.” Bess tilted her hips, wrapping a leg around him. “I’m so close.”

He slid deeper, unable to stop. Before he lost his last shred of control, he had to give her a release. Gritting his teeth, he reached between them and touched her.

She drove against him, her green eyes locked on his. Her fingers clawed his back and she came apart.

Her scream took him over the edge. He closed his eyes, slamming home once more, and the bed bounced against the wall. His arms shook as her body squeezed around him.

He collapsed. Their chests rose and fell together in air-sucking gasps.

It had never been like this. Only one other time had he been so out of control...and so satisfied. It had been with Bess. That time, he hadn’t waited for her orgasm.

He rolled off her, embarrassed by the memory.

“Oh, my.” She curled into his side. “That was worth waiting ten years.”

Shit.

He covered his eyes with his arm, gathering the strength to take care of the condom. Rolling out of bed, he staggered to the bathroom.

Bloodshot eyes stared at him from the mirror. He never drank more than two drinks. He’d had, what—three whiskeys, wine with dinner and an unknown quantity of champagne?

This was what happened when he was around Bess. He acted stupid—lost control.

He moved back into the bedroom and gathered his clothes.

She opened her eyes, looking rumpled and gorgeous. “It’s late. Don’t go.”

He sat on the end of the bed. Numb.