A Blazing Little Christmas(70)

This time he blinked.

“Yeah.”

“From P.S. 35?”

“You went there?” he asked, like he didn’t know.

“Yes,” she said, launching into full social-secretary persona. “Rebecca Neumann. You had a locker down the hall from me. Back against Mr. Espy’s science lab.” She shook his hand harder. “What a small world.”

“Yeah.”

Her hand stopped shaking his. “So what have you been up to since P.S. 35? Ha.”

He racked his brains. Was he supposed to answer that?

Her eyes scrunched up, and he noticed that Rebecca Neumann wasn’t eighteen anymore. There were lines around her eyes, the corners of her mouth. Laugh lines. Oddly enough, it made her sexier. Much more approachable. Much more touchable.

“Imagine seeing you again. After all these years. Like fate. Or kismet. Or serendipity.”

He didn’t know where this was headed, but Rebecca was still holding his hand. Okay. “No, just caught by the snow.”

That seemed to make her happy, which was good, because he had already figured out that her buttoned-up sweater concealed a blouse, and possibly an undershirt, but he was up to the challenge, and his cock was starting to throb.

“Well…” she said, and there they were. Back to square one.

“Yeah,” he said, and took a step closer, his free hand flexing. Buttons weren’t really a problem.

Her bottom lip caught between her teeth, a move that would have been sexy if they were already having sex. Then the gray eyes turned dreamy. “Could you kiss me again?”

Kissing. Hell.

He’d known this was a bad idea—even if it was Rebecca. “I’m not big on kissing.”

“But downstairs…”

Cory wasn’t about to explain the reasons why he didn’t like kissing. The sex, he was completely on board with, but impersonal and anonymous sex. Kissing? Nu-uh. She’d have to find another Prince Charming. And the road to Canada would be long, hard and painful. Cory shook his head, and dropped her hand. “I’ll go.”

That made her move. “No.”

“Yes,” he said in a firm voice because Cory didn’t make exceptions, and he wanted to make sure she understood.

* * *

Rebecca looked up at him, and drew in a deep breath. A one-night stand wasn’t quite what she had always fantasized about. This was different, but maybe different was right.

Fate was a powerful thing, opening doors, closing doors, and Rebecca was a big believer in the whole open-door theory. She didn’t hesitate because she liked the banked desire in his eyes. Anything but the emptiness of before. She smiled, confident in her decision, and said yes.

Then he moved, reaching for the buttons on her cardigan and began to undo them one by one. She stood still, cold air biting bare flesh. First the sweater, next the blue cotton blouse. It slid easily from her shoulders. He smiled at the undershirt, and she wondered, but the silence was a magical thing, more evidence of great things to come. He reached behind her to unhook her Victoria’s Secret bra. Efficiently he disposed of that, warm hands moving to the zipper of her slacks. In two seconds, the pants were gone and he was sliding the last layer of silk down her legs. She felt a strong urge to lock her arms across her chest, but vestal virgin wasn’t the part she was playing. There wasn’t a wedding ring on the line, only the chance to do something she’d never done before.

He backed her toward the oak dressing table, lifting her up, cold butt to cold wood. He started to remove the wool socks from her feet, and Rebecca stopped him before he could go further. “You’re not big on kissing. I’m not big on sock removal.”

His face was curious, but he shrugged. “Not a problem.”

Then he began to undress, shedding boots, sweater, jeans. Each new divestiture exposed something new. A scar on his hip, a tattoo on his arm, a dusting of black hair on his chest. But two things were no mystery. The hard look in his eye, and the straining erection that seemed indestructible.

He came over, stood before her.

“Change your mind?” he asked, like he thought she would.

Stubbornly she shook her head, then watched as he sheathed himself with a condom. A condom. The universal symbol of actual penetration. Cory Bell was going to have sex with her. Sex. With. Her.

There was that single moment of panic. That time when she felt her blood chill, but then it was over.

This was Cory Bell.

The dark eyes watched her carefully, obviously waiting for panic, waiting for the vestal virgin to emerge. However, Rebecca was ready. She’d been waiting days, months, decades for this.

Rebecca Neumann and Cory Bell.

He pulled her legs around lean hips and then slid inside her.