Read On a Snowy Christmas Night Online

Authors: Debbi Rawlins

Tags: #Contemporary, #Romance, #Contemporary Romance

On a Snowy Christmas Night (12 page)

He poured himself another shot.

“You put some water in that?” he asked when she held out her cup to him.

“I don’t want it watered down.”

“You end up with a headache and no aspirin, it won’t be pretty.”

“If I get a headache I’ll deserve it.”

“Suit yourself.” He poured her half a shot. “How about some trail mix or jerky?”

She shook her head and bent over to pick up the jacket from the floor.

Jesus. He had to look away.

Reclaiming the stool, she sat down and took a big sip. “Jesse,” she said in a sudden rush, “I overreacted earlier and now things are icky between us and I don’t have the faintest idea how to fix it.”

They stared silently at each other for a moment. He didn’t know what to say. “Icky?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know.” He scrubbed at his face, then plowed his hand through his hair. “I don’t see what needs fixing,” he said, and watched her lower her gaze to her cup, the furrow of her brow deepening. “I promise to be a gentleman, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No.” She gave him a fleeting look before averting her eyes again. “It’s the pity I can’t take. I’m fully aware that I’m bad at social interaction, not just with men, but in general and I—”

“Pity? Where’s that coming from?”

“Please don’t deny it.” She sighed. “I don’t think you’ve lied to me yet.”

“Damn right I’m gonna deny it, since I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m guilty of some lustful thoughts,” he said, and saw her eyebrows go up. “Yeah, I admit it. Though it’s not like that wasn’t obvious. I’ll also admit to being pissed off that a guy could leave you with the notion that sex is nothing but a big disappointment.”

She just sat there, staring at him as if he’d dumped a pail of cold water over her head. Then she blinked. “Lustful thoughts?”

This woman was going to make him crazy. How had he thought for a second that he could read her? She looked surprised and sounded a little excited. Neither reaction made sense. “I promised you I’d be a gentleman and I aim to keep that promise.”

Her gaze lowered to her cup, and then she drained the whiskey.

“Can I ask you a question?”

She seemed uncertain but nodded.

“Why do you think you’re bad at social interaction?”

“I don’t just think it.” She shrugged. “It’s true. All through school I was the shy younger kid who no one wanted to hang out with. I wasn’t invited to parties or asked out on dates. Which was fine with me because I spent a lot of time at my computer.”

“Don’t tell me you were one of those wonder kids who graduated from high school at thirteen.”

“I was fifteen.”

He’d been joking. Obviously she wasn’t. “And college?”

“Eighteen,” she said with a trace of apology. “But I stayed on for postgraduate studies, if that counts.”

“I bet you’ve got a bunch of fancy letters after your name.”

Shea smiled and shrugged.

Something else occurred to him. “Hey, should I be calling you Dr. Monroe?”

She rolled her eyes. “That would be my father. I haven’t gotten my Ph.D. yet. I got bored with school.”

Well, that explained a few things. He’d started to wonder if she’d been brought up in a convent. “So, is your father famous?”

“In the world of physics, yes, he’s quite well-known.”

“And your mother? She must be working on curing cancer.”

Shea let out a startled laugh. “No, she’s working on her fourth husband.”

“Ah.” Jesse held up the bottle in offering.

“Just a little,” she said and leaned over with her cup out.

He poured them each a shot. “They divorce when you were young?”

“Ten. I left for boarding school soon after so it didn’t matter.”

Of course it mattered, he thought, but didn’t say so. He watched her take a cautious sip while he tried to figure out what to say that wouldn’t send the conversation downhill.

“My mother was a cocktail waitress Dad met while he was at a conference in Las Vegas. They never should’ve gotten married. Probably the stupidest and most impulsive thing my father ever did in his life.”

“I don’t know about stupid. They had you.”

She bowed her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she studied the inside of her cup. “Tell me something about you.”

Jesse snorted. “Hey, you know, I’m just a cowboy. What’s there to tell?”

“You’re also a pilot.”

“Nowadays lots of ranchers have small planes or helicopters. It makes sense.” Somehow he sensed her disappointment, which he didn’t understand. She already knew he wasn’t a rocket scientist or an Ivy League graduate.

“I know you spent time in the air force. Annie told me,” Shea said, then quickly added, “I’m not sure how it came up, but we weren’t gossiping.”

“What else did she say about me?” he asked calmly, annoyed that he’d bothered because he wouldn’t like the
answer.

“She thinks you’re terrific.” Shea paused, a blush spreading across her cheeks. “I do, too.”

Generally he wasn’t much of a talker, but it’d never had anything to do with being at a loss for words. Damned if she hadn’t made him tongue-tied. He had some mental adjustments to make. Missing pieces of the puzzle were falling into place for him. He hadn’t been too far off base thinking she’d grown up sheltered. Wasn’t a stretch for her to feel self-conscious about sex or how others perceived her.

“See, I probably shouldn’t have said that,” she murmured, nibbling at her lip and averting her eyes. “Told you I was bad at this stuff.”

“Enough.”

Her gaze shot back to his face. “What?”

“If you don’t want pity, then quit feeling sorry for yourself. Or worrying about meeting other people’s expectations. You have a good heart, Shea. You’re smart and pretty and obviously strong-willed. That puts you way ahead of the curve. Nobody needs to throw you a pity party.”

She seemed stunned. Her mouth opened, and she looked as if she might argue.

He leaned closer to her and lowered his voice. “I promised you I’d be a gentleman, but if you talk trash again I might have to kiss you to shut you up.”

She shivered a little and said, “Yes, please.”

12

“S
HEA
...” H
E
DRAWLED
her name into a warning. His tone indicated he was done playing cat and mouse.

“I know what I said, Jesse. I’m not a child. I want you to—” Damn her voice for cracking. “I want it,” she said softly, then in spite of ordering herself not to, added, “But only if you do.”

“You know what I want,” he said, his voice dipping into a husky murmur in the dim room. “But I also want you to be sure.”

Briefly closing her eyes, she summoned all her courage and pushed to her feet. “Would you mind standing, please?”

He was confused. She saw it in his eyes, in the slight parting of his mouth, but he did as she asked. “Let me get rid of this,” he said, glancing around for a place to set down the bottle.

“No, I might need another drink.”

“If it takes alcohol to do whatever it is you intend doing, then you best rethink your plan.”

She let out a nervous laugh. That was such a Jesse thing to say. He was still trying to protect her. This was a man who flew in horrible weather to rescue animals, a man who loved his home and family, and had been willing to risk his own safety to help a stranger. She’d only known him for what...three days? And yet she trusted him, she realized.

“You’re right, no whiskey. I’ll admit I’m nervous,” she said, moving closer to him. “As if you couldn’t tell, anyway.” His faint smile warmed her. “I was wondering if maybe we could pick up where we left off....” She sucked in a deep breath. “You know, from earlier.”

“I’m getting the idea,” he said, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it toward the cot, his gaze leveled on her face.

She tentatively put a hand on his chest, feeling the soft flannel against her palm, the hardness of muscle beneath the fabric. His breath ruffled her hair and she could smell the whiskey he’d drunk.

She tilted her head back to look into his eyes. No longer the warm chocolate-brown, they were darker now, almost black. He hadn’t put his hands on her yet and a prick of impatience made her lower her lashes.

He caught her chin, and cut off her sigh with a soft kiss. Nothing more than a brief meeting of lips before he lifted his head.

“You can touch me, Shea. Anywhere you want,” he murmured, and brushed her bangs to the side.

“I w-want t-to unbutton your shirt.” She’d never stammered in her life. God, why now? “If it’s okay.”

“Anything you want to do is fine with me.”

Straightening her spine, she unfastened the first button. “Oh.” He was wearing thermals. Of course...what did she expect?

Jesse chuckled. “Winter’s a bitch.”

She made a low whimpering sound of agreement totally unfamiliar to her ears.

“Here.” He took over the unbuttoning, discarded the shirt, then pulled off the beige thermal top and dropped it on the bench.

Shea could only stare in awe at his naked well-defined chest. Brian sure didn’t have a chest like that. No man she knew had a chest like Jesse’s. A minute ago she’d worried he’d be too cold without his shirt. Now she didn’t care. No way he was taking that view away from her.

She quickly met his eyes, hoping she hadn’t said anything out loud. From spending so much time alone, she had a bad habit of talking to herself.

“Everything all right?” he asked, picking up her hand and returning it to his chest.

“Fine. Terrific.” She slowly slid her palm over the contour of his left pectoral muscle and let her fingers trail through the smattering of soft crisp hair tapering down to his flat stomach and disappearing into the waistband of his jeans.

“You want to take anything off?” he whispered, cupping her chin in one of his slightly rough hands and bringing her face up to meet his gaze.

“Of me?”

He smiled and kissed her forehead. “That’s kind of what I had in mind, but you’re calling the shots.”

“So I could have you totally naked, but leave all my clothes on?” She was proud of herself for keeping a straight face.

“Um, if you really wanted,” he said with so much reluctance that she broke down and laughed. One of his eyebrows went up in mock annoyance. “You sure you wanna mess with me?” he said, reaching around to cup her backside with both hands.

She gasped, still laughing as she flattened both palms on his chest. But he’d already pulled her body snugly against his, and he no longer looked amused. More determined.

“I’d prefer your clothes off but I can work with this,” he whispered, and slid a hand inside her panties.

Standing as still as a statue, she forgot to breathe when he moved his hand to the front and cupped her sex. Smoothly he slid a finger inside, easing back when she instinctively tried to evade him.

“You feel good,” he murmured, his raspy breath tickling her skin. “You’re wet.”

God, she was, and hot, almost feverish. She had this incredible urge to reach inside his jeans, to pull them off, see what he looked like completely naked. When was the last time she’d felt this heated rush? Maybe never.

He slid his finger back inside, and she started to tremble. “You okay?”

She nodded, leaving her face buried against his shoulder but moving her hips just enough to let him know what she wanted. It was crazy, this thrumming between her thighs. He’d hardly touched her, yet she could swear she was almost ready to explode. It wasn’t possible.

“Kiss me,” Jesse said, continuing to stroke her, lightly, relentlessly.

It wasn’t easy lifting her head. Her weakened knees were barely keeping her upright. With his other arm sure and steady around her waist, she leaned back to look up at him. His face was hazy.

“Kiss me,” he repeated, lowering his head so she could reach his mouth.

She brushed her upper lip along his lower one, and lightly scraped her teeth across his chin stubble. The rasp of the slight friction sent a tingle of excitement down her spine and, on impulse, she gently bit his lip.

A low moaning sound came from in his throat and he slanted his mouth over hers. He pushed his tongue inside and drove his finger in deeper while his thumb rubbed the sensitive nub that had her arching against his hand.

The feverish sensation again swept her perilously close to oblivion and with it came a wave of panic. “Oh, God,” she said, as she tore her mouth away from his and shoved at his shoulder. “I can’t stand it.”

“Yes, you can,” he murmured. “Let go.”

“I can’t... Oh, no—”

It was too late.

She froze, shocked at the fierceness of the spasm that jolted her. He kept moving his finger, coaxing yet another wave of sheer pleasure to shimmer through her body. It wouldn’t stop. The waves kept coming, making her dizzy, confusing her, zapping her of energy until she started to collapse.

Jesse swept her up in his arms and cradled her to his chest. He carried her to the sleeping bag and gently lowered her to the blanket. It was startling to realize that she still wore most of her clothes. After what had just happened...God.

In a daze, she watched him cross the small room. When he reached down for his jacket, she saw muscles ripple across his shoulders and decided that she liked his back almost as much as his chest. He turned around and her gaze drew straight to his bulging fly.

Wow.

Bunching his jacket, he knelt on one knee beside her. Then he lifted her head and slid the makeshift pillow underneath. The sexy smile he gave her started another flutter low in her belly. Not possible. Couldn’t be. Maybe it was hunger she felt.

“You still cold?” he asked, finger-combing the strands of hair clinging to her cheek.

“I don’t think so.”

“You’re shivering,” he said, stretching out on his side next to her and bracing his head in his hand.

“But not from the cold.” She bit her lip. “You surprised me. I didn’t—you went out of order,” she said, her accusing tone bringing a glint of amusement to his eyes.

“Ah.” His lips twitched. “You wanted me to undress you first.”

“Yes. No.” She sighed. “You confuse me.”

“That makes two of us, darlin’.” With a laugh, he started unbuttoning her shirt, then groaned when he got to the next layer. “Damn thermals.”

Shea grinned. “You know I have no sympathy for you, right?”

He abruptly sat up and pulled her to a sitting position with him. Grabbing the hem, he yanked the top over her head and tossed it toward the stool.

She lost the smile, feeling vulnerable in her plain white bra. “What if this turns out bad?” she asked. “It could ruin everything between us.”

“Have I disappointed you yet?”

“God, no.” There was no point in being coy, but she blushed, anyway. “I think you already know that.”

His gaze ran down to her breasts and then he splayed a hand across her belly. “We don’t have to do this.”

“What? No. I want to...” She almost laughed. “We kind of already have.”

“We’re barely warmed up.” He pressed a kiss to her lips, and had her bra unhooked before she knew it.

She swallowed convulsively as he pulled the cups away from her breasts and touched her tightened nipples. Her chest heaved and nothing could stop her from shivering all the way down to her toes. He tore his gaze away from her breasts and met her eyes.

“Will you take off your jeans?” she asked, feeling a bit bashful sitting only in her panties.

He got to his feet, unsnapped, unzipped and stripped down to his boxers in one fluid motion. After gauging her for a moment, he pulled down the boxers, too.

The lantern hung on the other side of the stove at his back and provided only murky light. Any disappointment she experienced was due to her inability to see him as clearly as she’d like. She held her breath and waited for his next move. It didn’t surprise her when he lowered himself to stretch out beside her again.

“You want to get under the blanket?” he asked, pushing her hair off her shoulder and nuzzling the side of her neck. “Or are you going to let me look at you for a while?”

She instinctively shrunk from his touch as if trying to preserve some distance between them. Oddly, though, that wasn’t what she really wanted. Mostly she didn’t want to have to answer his question.

He leaned back, a lazy smile teasing his lips, then casually cupped one of her breasts.

She trembled with want. “It’s your—” She vaguely motioned at her own face. “I’ve never felt a man’s beard on my skin before.”

He rubbed his jaw and winced. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it doesn’t feel bad.” She touched the cleft in his chin, gliding her finger over the shallow dimple, amazed she could have a heated reaction to the simple contact.

“I’ll be careful.” He went back to gently kneading her breast, then bent over her, kissing her slow and deep while his hand moved to her panties. He pulled them down her thighs, and she helped by bringing up her knees, and between the two of them, the panties ended up somewhere close to the stove.

Jesse slipped an arm behind her and laid her back down on the blanket and sleeping bag. His gaze ran down her body. “You’re perfect.”

“Stop it.”

“What?” He skimmed his hand down the same path his gaze had taken. “To me, you are. You have the perfect size breasts,” he said, pausing to cup the weight of her left one. “Perfect size and color nipples.” He thumbed the hard nub, arousing it to an even stiffer peak than she’d thought possible.

She waited, breath held to see where he’d go next, but he couldn’t seem to get his fill of her breasts. He lowered his head and rolled his tongue over the sensitive tip before sucking it into his mouth. He was a little more forceful than she’d expected, and even more to her amazement it felt so good she didn’t want him to stop.

He didn’t just use his tongue, but also his teeth and firmed lips to tug and pull until she trembled again. “Too hard?” he asked, pressing soft soothing kisses there.

She shook her head. Obviously he couldn’t see her response and drew back to look at her. In the soft glow of the lantern, his mouth was damp, the light sheen oddly seductive. “No, you did it—” she had to swallow “—you did it just right.”

With a faint smile he administered the same treatment to her other breast. His hand had already moved down to her belly and the way he was positioned, she could feel his erection nudging her thigh.

“Jesse?”

His fingers leisurely traced her rib cage and he didn’t seem in any hurry to stop. Laving her nipple a final time, he looked up.

“You said I could touch you,” she said, not bothering to mask her impatience.

“I did.” He rolled onto his back, clasping his hands behind his head. “I’m all yours.”

She thought she knew exactly where she wanted to start, that is until she saw his muscled biceps flex into a solid mound of taut flesh. Lying there like that, his flat belly defined with narrow ridges of muscle, he looked like a centerfold in a woman’s magazine.

When her gaze got to his waist, her breath caught painfully in her chest. God, he was hard. And thick. And it wasn’t her imagination that heat actually radiated from him. To prove it to herself, she touched his erection. He inhaled sharply and pulsed against her palm. That didn’t stop her. She wrapped her fingers around him and stroked up toward the smooth silky crown.

“You’re killing me,” he whispered in a hoarse voice.

“I am?” she said absently, astonished at how his penis jerked at even the slightest touch.

Physically speaking she was terrifically out of his league. She’d always been on the thin side. When she was in the middle of a project she often forgot to eat.

But Jesse...he was amazing. He really was perfect, she thought, sighing.

“Are you done yet?” he asked tightly.

“I’m just getting started...oh. What are you—”

He curled up and caught her left nipple between his teeth. She leaned into him, watching her nipple disappear into his mouth. He suckled her hard, then soft and slow, flicking his tongue over the pearled tip. When he withdrew it was to blow on the damp area, which created a delicious sensation in the cool air.

“I’m not finished,” she said, startled to discover that she’d released him and he was moving away from her.

“I have to get my Levi’s.”

“No.” She watched in dismay as he stood. “Why would...” Her objection trailed off when she got a glimpse of his naked butt, smooth and hard with muscle that flexed and released with each step he took. The light was frustratingly dim and she vaguely wondered if he’d care if she used the flashlight on him.

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