'Tis the Season: A Collection of Mimi's Christmas Books (43 page)

“Quiet,” he yelled, and peace reigned.

Surprised and pleased, Abbie nodded to him purposefully. She hoped he registered her new friend’s intelligence. “See how smart he is?”

Shrugging, Marcus turned on the floor lamp and went to start a fire in the grate. Then he moved two easy chairs close together near the warmth.

Hang on here!
She wasn’t about to settle in separate chairs when there was a perfectly good bed nearby. Not after what he’d started earlier. She wanted more, a lot more—she wanted it all. Purposefully she went over to the bed and folded down the brown coverlet, uncovering warm woollen blankets. She lay on her side, propped her head in her hand, and waited for him to notice her. Lurking humour resulted when she glimpsed his shock after turning from his chores.

“Abbie, I do think it would be safer for us to sit closer to the fire. It’s much warmer here, you see?”

“On the contrary, Marcus. I’d much rather lie here. We’d be a lot more comfortable. And we can keep each other warm.”
That’s if I have anything to say about it
. “Come.” She gestured and patted the bed next to her. “I have so many things to tell you.”

The scent of the burning wood, one of her favourite smells, cozied the atmosphere, while the diffused light from the small lamp helped set the mood.

Provoked, he moved slowly forward as if pulled by a force stronger than his own will. All of a sudden he stopped, turned back to the table where he’d left the bottle of liquor, and poured a shot glass full. In one swallow, it was empty. He motioned to her with the bottle, and she shook her head. Nervousness apparent, he returned the glass to the table and walked slowly toward the bed. Gingerly he sat, close to the edge, stiff as a board, not reclining or relaxing. His hands were tucked between his knees as if that was the only way he’d keep them from finding her.

Well, that certainly wasn’t going to be allowed for very long, she decided. I’ll relax him with talk first.
From their meeting earlier, she knew his armour could be easily breached with just a few words, an inviting look, or a flirtatious touch. Therefore, prolonging the inevitable only added to the anticipation.

“What do you recall from when I first arrived?” She had to know if he remembered their kisses.

His face guarded, he replied, “That we’re not related. And I do believe I asked you to marry me. You said yes, didn’t you?”

“I did. And I meant it—if you want me?” She reached up to draw his face to hers. “A kiss would seal the deal.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Abbie. Aw, Sweetheart, if I touch you now, I’ll never be able to stop.” He groaned the last few words, which made her stomach flip-flop around inside and started her trembling. “Let’s go and sit by the fire.” He moved as if to pull away, but, before he could do so, she locked her arms tight around his neck and held him there.

“Let’s not.” She rubbed her nose against his teasingly. “Don’t you want me?” She opened her eyes wide—innocent and imploring at the same time.

“Like the dickens, Abbie. It’s killing me not to put my hands you.”

“Then do so, you foolish man. Why do you think I’ve arranged for us to be on the bed? I want you to touch me, and kiss me, and make all those wild fantasies I’ve been suffering through lately come true.”

“Sweetheart, you’ve just gotten out of the hospital. I wouldn’t dream of taking advantage of you.”

“Well, that’s funny, because I’ve been dreaming of taking advantage of you all evening. Ever since I found out the truth about our relationship. And if you don’t soon do something about this, I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”

Once his eyes began to glow, she knew she’d calmed his fears. His apprehensive smile turned seductive, and he shed the uncomfortable role of a man meek and mild for his normal one of control. “Darling girl, I adore you.” He stretched out beside her and, turning, put both hands on her cheeks and then sifted his fingers through the curls around her face. Closing in, he whispered, “I think we’ll have to do our talking later. You’ve only yourself to blame if I’ve decided I have better things to do with my mouth.” He lowered to kiss her eyes, her forehead, her cheeks, and then slowly trail his lips downward to fasten onto hers.

She waited hungrily, watching him through slit eyes, loving the expression of adoration she could see on his face. Loving, also, the gentle thoughtfulness he revealed instead of being a macho bloke who only cared about his own needs.

Like an explosion, their kiss turned from gentle to devouring in about the same amount of time as it took for them to catch a breath. He ate at her mouth as if he had a huge hunger to be assuaged, while every inch of her opened to his needs, her lips, her arms, and her ardour. Their tongues entwined, and she tasted the sweetness of the Drambuie he’d downed before coming to her. “Oh, Marcus.”

Breathing erratically—harsh panting sounds that broke the silence—they cuddled as close together as possible. The feel of his hard body pushing against hers felt wonderful, and the intrinsic warning, that tonight she’d become a woman, didn’t faze her at all. Nothing did, except the feel of his hands travelling downward and pausing once they encountered the fuzz from her annoying sweater.
Oh, God, don’t stop!

She quickly leaned back and pulled it off, with his help. She watched his eyes widen and travel over her nakedness. Having young breasts, perky and full, ones that stood erect on their own, didn’t require a bra under a heavy sweater, and so she hadn’t worn one the day she’d gone to help the vicar.

His eyes widened and darkened, the heat in them scalding. Spasms burst throughout her body, and relentless pulsations began to attack her stomach, while lower, puddles of delight flooded and readied her for his breach. He kissed her again, only this time his tongue made love to her mouth. Gasping, lightheaded from lack of air, she could have sworn her thinking processes totally shut down, leaving only her sense of touch, taste and hearing left. Her lover pulled back, and if his dazed expression was an indication of how he felt, they were in sync.

Delighted, feeling sensuous, Abbie lay on her back, opening herself to whatever he had in mind. She watched as his eyes travelled over her, followed by his hand. His tender ministrations satisfied her at first, but not for long. Seeing his absorption, she decided to move things along, and she began to work at undoing the buttons on his tucked-in shirt. She yanked at the last bit and got his attention. Within a few seconds, he had it off and thrown over the side of the bed. Now they were equal. Now she could play with his body while he got serious with hers.

Both of them touched and kneaded, rubbed and kissed, until he broke and, snaking his hand around both of hers, he lifted them over her head while his mouth got serious with her nipples. He suckled and licked, his bites and kisses driving her crazy. Gasping with need, she arched her lower body against the hardness of his, pushing and rubbing, her desires apparent.

Whatever she’d done, she’d done it right. He kept her hands in one of his and snuck the other under the hem of her short miniskirt. Unfortunately her tights, form-fitting to the waist, impeded his progress. Frustration apparent, he released her hands and pulled and tugged at them.

With little luck.

Urgency finally propelled them both to work at getting the appropriately named apparel off her, and finally, with her muffling her chuckles and him biting off bad language, they lowered them enough that with one hard pull, he stripped them off and flung them across the room.

“Silly things women wear.”

“They show off my legs.”

“And, I must say, you do have beautiful legs to show off.”

“I’m glad they make you happy.”

“Darling, everything about you makes me happy. Now, where were we?” He resumed kissing her, and while his hands continued their searching caresses, she melted. His fingers found her sensitive area, the spot that transformed women into captives of lust, and the wetness, an obvious turn on, had him groaning his pleasure. He massaged her and drove her to the brink.

Delight with these ministrations echoed in her voice, and as soon as he inserted his finger, she broke. Waves of sensation powered her excitement, making her tremble and jerk spasmodically. As she rode the feeling, she cried out her pleasure. “Marcus! Ohh!”

With no idea how it happened, the next thing she knew they were both naked, and he had taken his place above her, not with his full weight but balancing himself, so even though he lay on top she didn’t feel at all smothered.

She opened her eyes to see him watching her. The green of his gaze had intensified to where only shafts of emerald interwoven with black crystal could be seen, the love blazing from them hot enough to burn. Honest emotions she respected and reciprocated. Knowing this smart, strong, beautiful man cared for her—little Abbie Taylor—evoked a level of pride and pleasure she’d never known before. She smiled, revealing everything she felt.

His hands cradled her skull, and then his fingers smoothed back the soft strands of hair massed around her face, the ones on her forehead damp from her earlier exertions.

“I love your hair. Soft and flowing, not lacquered and made to stick up into impossible shapes.” He leaned down to the curls he held in order to rub them across his lips.

“I love your hair, too,” she whispered, touching it.

“And I love your body. You’re so small I could tuck you in my pocket.”

“We’ve already spent enough time with me living inside you, don’t you think? Now it’s your turn to be inside me.” She leaned up to kiss him. “ Don’t make me wait any longer to be yours,” she said, before their lips met.

“Then hold on, Abbie girl. After tonight, you’ll be all mine, and nothing will ever come between us again.”

“Forever.”

“Longer.”

“I adore you.”

He continued to stare deeply into her eyes, his love blazing strong and true, and he didn’t stop until his emotions overwhelmed him. Then he kissed her as if sealing a pledge. When he spoke, he said only one word. “Now.”

Lifting his hips, he penetrated her body. Slowly at first, a little bit at a time, but steadily. She knew as soon as he became aware she’d never made love before. The moan he released lasted longer than the others, and he stopped to kiss her once more. A deep kiss, one of thanks, or so she wanted to believe.

Her body clearly liked him being there, because more love-liquid flowed and eased his way in. The heat and wetness excited, and soon they were both gasping and moving. His slow thrusts turned to powerful lunges, and she lifted her legs around him to give him greater access. Loving the feel of his hardness inside her, she writhed so his penetration could deepen. Hot and hard. Driving her higher. To peaks she’d never known existed. She hadn’t been aware such intense pleasure was even possible. And the fact that it was gathering, building stronger each time he pushed, made it all the better.

She hung on and rode with him. Her hands grasping at his body, travelled up and down, massaging her love, egging him on. And he needed no urging. His body sliding over hers, sweat glistening, he seemed to know exactly when to pull back and when to move forward. His playful stroking brought her to the brink a number of times until, finally, she got more involved in the proceedings. Grabbing his buttocks with both hands, she held him in place and rose up to mash herself against him. That was all it took. His last plunge hit the sensitive spot, and like magic she floated through a kaleidoscope of painful pleasures. Her body, in tune with his, experienced shudders and spasms of delight.

It took them quite some time for their nerves to calm and their breathing to return to normal. Finally he leaned over and kissed her nose. “Cheeky little madam. You couldn’t wait for the finish, could you?” he teased, and she loved knowing he felt he could.

“I knew you were trying to be gentle, and I did appreciate the gesture, but really, Marcus, you were driving me batty.” He was still snuggled inside her, and she flexed her muscles and watched his expression change from complacent to interested to imploring. “Stop that!”

“Why? I liked it.”

“Because it’s your first time. And you’ve just awakened from being in a coma. And…oh, hell, I almost forgot. Remind me later that I have to call the hospital to let them know you’re here with me. In case they find you missing and send out an alarm.”

“How did you know I’d snuck out without telling anyone?”

“Because they wouldn’t have let you go. Either that, or they’d have called a taxi for you, or, at the very least, demanded I collect you.”

With no other choice except to admit his sensible explanations were not only feasible but also true, she agreed, shyly. “I couldn’t take the chance they’d try to stop me. I was desperate to tell you the good news—that all our dreams are possible. I never thought of leaving a note.”

“Speaking of dreams, tell me you really are here in my bed?” He grinned down into her flustered countenance, and then he winked.

“I’m really here in your bed. From now on, I’ll always be here with you. But, I have to admit, I do miss knowing what you’re thinking and feeling all the time.”

“Yes, well, I’m rather glad you can’t. I much prefer being able to make love to you with my body rather than in my min—”

“You envisioned making love with me? Really?”

“Cheeky brat. You want me to admit to having had lascivious thoughts about you? Well, I did. All the time. Near drove me mad. But now, instead of using my imagination, I can use my hands and my mouth.” He lowered his head to give her an intensely satisfying kiss.

She shivered, and he mistook the reason. Leaning over, he pulled the tumbled woolly blanket up to cover them. Then he scooped her close and angled her head gently to lie on his chest. Cuddled together, enjoying the sensation of each other’s body warmth, they were happy. The quiet soon encroached, and the heat in the room worked its magic.

They slept.

Neither of them heard the door being clumsily opened by a paw on the handle, or saw the black animal lope into the room and make himself right at home on the foot of their bed.