Sleigh Bells in the Snow(101)

Her hair was pinned haphazardly on top of her head. Wisps of blond, damp from the steam, clung to the smooth curve of her jaw and neck.

This was a different Kayla Green and this was the woman he wanted.

He might have kept it slow if she hadn’t slid a hand over his thigh and eased herself closer to him in the bubbling water. Might even have held back a little if her mouth hadn’t brushed against his jaw, the lick of her tongue a tease and a temptation. He turned his head, caught her mouth with his and was lost. Her lips were soft, her kisses hot, her body lithe as she moved gracefully through the steaming water and wound her legs around his.

Her hand cupped him, and Jackson closed his eyes, jaw clenched, brain wiped, reduced to the most basic version of himself. “Kayla—”

“This is your fault—” She nibbled his lip, licked at him, driving him crazy. “I don’t do this, so it has to be your fault.”

But she was doing it now, and he told himself that was all that mattered. They’d work the rest out later. Or maybe they’d let the rest take care of itself. Right now, he didn’t care. All he cared about was not tipping over the edge. Not yet.

Her hands were on his shoulders, on his chest, and she drove him wild with the drag of her nails, the touch of her mouth until he knew he couldn’t trust himself to control the pace unless he was the one in charge.

Fighting for control, he locked his hands on her hips and shifted her so that she straddled him. Eyes wide, she tried to sheathe herself with him, but he held her hard, restricting the movement of her hips, his legs pressing hers apart, exposing her to his touch. And touch he did, with slow gentle strokes, his fingers sliding over her feminine softness until she gasped softly against his mouth.

Around them the forest was silent, sounds muffled by the thick blanket of winter and the steady fall of new snow. Her lips were pressed against his, and he felt each sound she made, tasted and swallowed every moan as he stroked and explored with knowing fingers until he tipped her over the edge.

He felt it happen, felt each ripple and pulse of her body with his fingers and he was so hard, so ready, it took all his willpower not to give in to the writhing of her hips and take what they both wanted right there.

But he wanted more—so much more than a steamy encounter in a hot tub followed by a serving of hypothermia.

“Inside.” He managed one word and she raised her head and looked at him, eyes unfocused, mouth soft and swollen from his kisses.

“Inside?”

“Now.” He’d never been this desperate. Never felt this out of control, not even when he’d hit adolescence and chased everything female. Exercising willpower he didn’t know he had, he eased away from her, reached for her robe and braved the freezing air. “Move.”





CHAPTER SIXTEEN



HE SECURED THE door behind them, shutting out the cold. Then he grabbed warm towels from the bathroom and tried to dry her hair, but she couldn’t keep herself from touching and neither could he so the towel landed on the bedroom floor, abandoned and forgotten.

His robe went next, the moon sending silver light over perfect male physique.

“I’ve had an idea—” Her mouth was dry as she slid her hand over his chest. “We could just make a poster of you half-naked and slap it on the subway. Snow Crystal would be booked out within minutes.”

He gave a slow smile. “I’m already booked. Exclusively.”

The word shook her. She’d never felt like this before. Never allowed her feelings to be engaged. But she no longer had a choice in it. She wanted all of him. Wanted to know all there was to know.

“How did you get this?” Her palm traced the scar over his ribs and lingered there.

“I was injured rescuing a litter of vulnerable puppies from a river.”

“Really?” She glanced up and the dangerous glitter in his eyes gave her clues as to exactly how he was feeling.

“No, not really—” he spoke through his teeth “—but this isn’t a good time to confess all my misadventures. Kayla—”

“Mmm?” She teased him, took her time, explored him with her fingers and her tongue until finally, when his breathing was shallow and uneven, she dropped to her knees and took him in her mouth, sliding her lips over his silken hardness, taking him deep.

She heard him groan her name, felt the shudder pass through his body as she used her tongue and her mouth, touching and tasting until finally he muttered something unintelligible and lifted her to her feet.

They hit the bed together, rolled, her on top then him on top, his fingers hard on her flesh as he spread her thighs.

She was ready, so ready, but still he postponed that moment, drawing his tongue over her, driving her higher, closer, until her hips shifted against the sheets and her hands clutched at his shoulders. His muscles were pumped up and hard, everything about him completely, aggressively masculine as he used his wickedly expert hands and mouth to seduce her until she was weak with wanting.