Let It Snow... (16 page)

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Authors: Leslie Kelly,Jennifer Labrecque

Tags: #Anthologies

BOOK: Let It Snow...
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7

I
F
SHE
HADN

T
left the front porch light on, she might’ve tripped over the gifts on her doorstep. But she had left it on, and she didn’t trip over the packages.

Her heart flip-flopped in her chest because she knew the bow-topped boxes were from Knox. They had to be. Who else would’ve left it for her?

Excitement and anticipation welled up within her as she picked them up. She’d so missed their gift exchange last year. It seemed every store window she passed, every ad she saw, she thought of him. Even when she was internet surfing, she’d find things she knew he’d like.

Balancing her boxes in one arm, she went into the chilly cabin. They’d always opened the gifts together. Trudie knew they were more than just presents.

It was a return to tradition—it was also a calling card. She placed the packages on the table and crossed to the stove. She hesitated. Did she want to crank up the heat with Knox? If she accepted his gifts, she was accepting far, far more than what was beneath that fancy wrapping.

Yes. She wanted it. She wanted him. For tonight, she’d have him on her terms. They’d make that leap from friends to lovers and hope they both stayed intact. And either way it went, she wouldn’t bring regrets to the table.

Heat and desire coursed through her. She’d wanted him, dreamed of his touch. That light in his eyes she’d seen today...she should be nervous. Instead she simply felt in the grips of something hot and heavy inside her. Anticipation tightened her skin, tingled between her thighs.

She picked up her cell phone and rang him. It rolled to voice mail and disappointment flooded her. She plopped onto the sofa. She hadn’t considered him not answering. What now? It was incredibly anticlimactic, but she supposed she could hang up her half of the ornaments she and Knox had made as kids. She’d assembled the tree the night before but hadn’t gotten around to decorating. Nah.

She wandered over to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator then closed the door again. Nothing in there looked particularly appealing. She could— The text notification went off on her cell phone. She crossed the room in record time.

With Elsa now at function. Hour and a half work for you?

Jealousy, swift and hot, knifed through her. He’d make time for her when he was done with Elsa? She drew a deep breath and reminded herself that Knox was here as Elsa’s escort. And he wanted to spend the evening with Trudie after his public obligations were met. Knox was making a choice here. Trudie made her choice. She texted back.

C u then.

Her heart raced. An hour and a half? She’d drive herself insane before then. She’d have to stay busy.

An hour and a half later she’d finished decorating the tree, showered, and dressed. She’d just dragged the brush through her hair again, when he texted.

On my way.

Ten minutes later she heard the pull of his truck engine. There was no point in prevarication. She had the door opened by the time he turned the engine off.

Jessup leaped out of the cab and bounded up the steps. Knox followed in a more orderly fashion. He hesitated at her door. Trudie hesitated as well. To kiss or not to kiss? The moment passed as he followed the dog in.

Trudie closed the door behind them. With a smile he shrugged out of his jacket. Good Lord, he smelled good...and he looked even better. He wore a greenish-gray zip-up sweater with heavy trousers. It suited him—dressy, yet casual.

It took her a hot minute to realize he looked and smelled good...to escort Elsa. The insight didn’t totally ruin the moment for Trudie, but it took an edge off her glow.

“How’d it go tonight?” she said. “You look nice.” And that was an understatement. He was knee-weakeningly handsome and heat-inducingly sexy. She should’ve kissed him when he came in.

He shrugged. “It was okay. You know I’m not really into all of that. I would’ve been here a little earlier but I stopped by the cabin to change and pick up Jessup. You don’t mind that I brought him, do you? He’s been alone all afternoon and I wasn’t...” he suddenly seemed as unsure of himself as she felt “...well, I wasn’t sure how long I might be over here this evening.”

“It was fine to bring him. He’s always welcome.” She felt the smile wreathing her face. She was still stuck back on the fact that he wasn’t just looking sharp because he’d escorted Elsa. He’d changed for her, Trudie.

He studied her and the expression in his eyes left her breath in her chest. “Good Lord, you’re beautiful, Trudie.”

A flush rolled through her, leaving a dampness between her thighs. She was glad she’d opted for the long black skirt that flared slightly from the knees down and the low-cut black top shot through with threads of gold and silver. She’d brought it to wear to the Miss Chrismoose pageant but decided it could pull double duty. The expression in his eyes said it had been a good decision on her part.

Suddenly she didn’t know where to look, but she found she couldn’t sustain contact with that heated gaze without totally melting. She glanced away from him as she said, “Thanks.”

Knox nodded toward the tree in the corner. “I see you got your tree up. It looks nice.”

Tension stretched between them like a fishing line with a salmon on the other end.

He shoved his hands in his pant pockets. “So, you want to open your presents?”

Yes. And she wanted to kiss him...and be kissed by him.... All in good time.

“I don’t have yours.” She’d thought about it but she’d been busy and then she found she just wasn’t ready to take that step.

“It’s fine, Trudie.” He grinned and her world seemed to turn upside down. “And you do have a gift for me—you’re accepting these, so....” He scooped one up from beneath the tree where she’d placed them, and held it out her. “Open it.”

“Okay.” Her fingers brushed his as she took the package. That brief contact shot through her, rocking her.

Her hands weren’t quite steady as she tore into the paper, tossing aside the bow. Knox leaned against the wall, watching her. He’d watched her for nearly twenty Christmases, but this time felt different. “I’ve always loved the way you open presents—you just rip into them.”

She returned his smile as she tossed aside the paper. “Is there any other way?”

It was a candle, but not just any candle. It had been handcrafted and Alaskan wildflowers were pressed into the thick pillar.

She held it to her nose and inhaled. The faint aroma of the dried flowers was there. It smelled as good as it looked. “It’s lovely. Thank you.” Okay, she had to ask. “Did you pick it out?”

He ran his hand over his head, a sheepish expression on his face. Knox was a notoriously awful gift-buyer. Mormor had always helped him choose Trudie’s gifts. “Not exactly. I gave final approval but Jenna at the spa did the picking.”

“Oh, good. That means they’ll be nice, not weird.”

“You’re never going to let me live down the travel sewing kit, are you?”

She laughed. He’d given her a travel sewing kit for her birthday one year. “Nope.”

Rolling his eyes, he handed her the second gift. Lavender bath salts. “Thank you. I love it.”

He took a step toward her, his intent clear in the glimmer in his eyes. With a shocking disregard for her presents, she put the bath salts on the table next to her candle, her interest caught and held by his advance.

He opened his arms and she walked into his embrace. Her heart tattooing a rhythm, she simply stood there for a moment, absorbing him as his arms closed about her, pulling her into intimate contact. His heat...his strength...his scent... She rested her head against his chest and wound her arms around him, her fingers seeking his taut back muscles through his sweater. Languor replaced the frantic longing she’d known earlier.

Knox reached between them and tilted her chin up with one finger, a question in his eyes but no words coming from his lips. Maintaining the same silence, she answered him with her own eyes. He gave a slight nod of satisfaction as she slid her hand up to cup the nape of his neck with her palm.

Somewhere in the room, the dog sighed and the firewood snapped and popped. His lips descended on hers. She leaned up a bit.

Those earlier kisses hadn’t been an aberration, and this one was even more potent and delicious. It became a litany of long, slow, clinging kisses that explored, celebrated, and turned her on in a way she’d never been turned on before.

And then it was as if they were both making up for lost time. Their kisses stoked a deep, drugging heat that tore through her and reached into her soul, nurturing the part of her that had hungered for him for so long.

Somehow they wound up on the couch and he hesitated, his hand nearly touching her breast but not quite there. She was very much aware that heated kisses were one thing but intimate touching was something altogether different. She cupped her hand around the back of his and moved his palm to cover her breast.

He moaned into her mouth and she returned the sentiment with a long vocal sigh that she couldn’t have stopped if she wanted to...and she didn’t want to. His touch felt so good. It was just flesh against flesh but this time was different, special...and incredibly arousing. Her nipple hardened against his palm and he dragged his mouth from hers. He scattered kisses along the column of her neck. He nuzzled and nibbled as he palmed and smoothed his fingers over her skin. She pushed her breast into his palm, aching for his firm touch...his wet mouth....

It was as if he read her mind. He nuzzled the flesh at the top of her bra and her head dropped back. He nudged her bra aside and then her nipple was in his mouth. It was as if all the planets in the universe lined up or collided in some astonishing cosmic event. Any semblance of holding back, of maintaining distance and control, was forgotten.

Much as she’d done with the present earlier, she tore at Knox’s packaging, dispensing with his sweater and the long-sleeved undershirt in record time. She didn’t hesitate at his belt, speedily unbuckling and then unzipping his pants.

He stood, his chest heaving. She’d seen him in a swimsuit more times than she could count but this was different.

There was an intimacy, a sexuality in his bare chest and belly, his unzipped pants that had never existed between them before. “Bedroom?” he said, holding out his hand.

“Yes,” she said, putting her palm in his. He threaded his fingers through hers. They both knew her
yes
covered so much more than simply a trip to the other room. It was an opportunity for her to change her mind, to opt out of taking their relationship to the next level—of establishing a new relationship in territory they’d never ventured into before. It was a yes to them as lovers and not simply friends.

Light from the den spilled into the bedroom. Neither of them turned on the lamp.

As Knox began to unlace his boots, Trudie sat on the edge of the bed and unabashedly watched. He stepped out of the boots, then his socks. She’d always loved the shape of his feet. How crazy goofy was that?

The silence between them thickened, deepened as he pulled a cellophane-wrapped condom out of his pocket and placed it on the bedside table. It might have been a mood breaker, but it wasn’t in the least.

He hooked his thumbs in the top of his pants and tugged them down. She stood, drawing her fingernail down his chest and the flat plane of his belly until it rested at the top of his boxers. “I’d like to do the honors.”

“Do with me what you will, Trudie,” he said, offering her himself.

She caught the elastic band with one finger and tugged the cotton down, over the jut of his erection. “Oh,” she said in the semi-dark room. All the daydreaming and fantasizing she’d done was inadequate preparation for the reality of Knox Whitaker naked...for her...with her. Bemused, she trailed her finger down his rigid length.

“Trudie...” he said.

She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to a spot above his hip. She inhaled his scent and the feel of his skin against hers, the pulse of his erection against her palm. He tangled his fingers in her hair and the sound of their breathing filled the room.

Gently, he urged her upward and she went. Wordlessly, he undressed her—skirt, top, bra and panties. And then he stepped back and looked at her. It took everything within her not to wrap her arms around her to hide her nakedness. It felt as much a baring of the soul as a baring of the flesh.

He nodded, still not speaking. But it was a good nod. She sank to the edge of the mattress, her thighs and buttocks embraced by the brushed flannel sheets. Bracing one knee next to her, Knox gentled Trudie down. She sank back into the mattress. He eased his weight next to hers.

For a moment, Trudie thought about pinching herself but his heat, his weight, the press of his leg against hers, the rush of his breath stirring her hair were all very real.

Knox’s touch was gentle as he teased his fingertips over the curve of her shoulder, along her collarbone. Heat suffused her. Trudie sighed and rolled to face him, bringing her body into intimate contact with his. She bit her lip as she pressed her nipples against the hair-roughened plane of his chest. The sensation shot straight through to her vagina.

She explored him. Kissed the column of his neck while she touched his penis, reveling in the velvety, rigid length, the weight of his balls. He was thicker and longer than she’d anticipated.

She sat up and looked down at him in the half-light cast from the other room. He was beautiful. Solid and trim and wonderful.

He reached up and gentled his hand over her cheeks. “Do I want to know what you’re thinking?”

It was an invitation to share but she just wanted to hug her thoughts to herself for the moment. Instead she said, “It’s all good.”

Getting on her knees, she knelt over him and licked and kissed her way to his flat belly. She paused, his erection nudging her cheek, to inhale deeply. It was a potent combination—male arousal and the scent that had always been uniquely his. She licked at his inner thigh and he caught her head. “No, that tickles.”

Unperturbed, she trailed her tongue along the length of his erection. He was like warm velvet and she teased the tip with her tongue. “Does that tickle?”

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