Authors: Violet Walker
T
hey decided not to use the wood stove while they could hide under the comforters after realizing that their few hours up that evening had eaten through half their store of wood. But that meant that the cold deepened throughout the night and they only had each other for warmth.
First they lay together, back to back, and tried to sleep that way. She felt him breathing slowly against her, and rolled onto her back, very shyly touching his muscled side. He was down to his thermals, their outer clothes piled on top of the comforters. She tried not to caress him, tried to content herself with that small contact, but the pain gnawed at her heart as she restrained herself. Eventually she rolled over and pressed her cheek against his back, her eyes wet and her body trembling a little.
I wish...oh God, I just wish….
He rolled over, mumbling something in his sleep, and threw an arm over her, pulling her against his chest. She lay there blinking, feeling his heart beat slow and easy against her cheek this time, and then slowly relaxed and nestled against him. Her eyes closed, and she drifted softly off to sleep, the gnawing ache inside of her finally gone again.
She woke sometime in the dark, the moon still high and flooding light in through the windows. She was still in his arms, the air on her face outside the covers freezing cold but her body burned like a furnace everywhere she touched him. Her heart was pounding, and his still beat slow and steady against her. But his hand was sliding over one of her breasts through the thin fabric of her slip, and he was murmuring sleepily in her ear. “Mm, about damn time…”
She froze, not sure what to do. But his hand cupped her breast and his thumb slid over her nipple through the fabric, and a jolt of pleasure went through her whole body. She moaned, arching against him, and found her mouth near his. “Kiss me, baby,” he murmured with his eyes closed. Anna blinked up at him, and her whole body trembled. Then finally, she leaned up, and pressed her lips against his with desperate fervor.
He made a contented noise, his hands starting to slide over her. She couldn’t hear anything after that; her heart was in her ears and her whole body on fire. She felt his arousal pressing against her belly from inside his thermals, and she shivered.
“Henry….” she whispered, and pressed against him, kissing him again.
His eyes opened and froze, blinking rapidly. She broke the kiss and stared at him, realizing belatedly that he had been asleep. He had been asleep—dreaming--and she had no idea who he had been dreaming about, she had just assumed….
Oh God.
She blushed hugely and started to pull away from him, but he hung onto her, still trying to catch up with what had happened.
“Wow, that was really nice, but uh...what did I miss?”
“I...you...you were….” Her cheeks felt like they might burst into flame, and she felt tears threatening. It was so mortifying. How had she let herself slip like this? How had she let herself make such a stupid mistake? “I thought you wanted….”
He stared at her...and then slowly relaxed, a faint, soft smile coming to his lips. “Who says I didn’t?”
Her mortification dissolved, and she blinked up at him. He gently feathered a kiss onto her nose, and she felt her tension start to dissolve. “I couldn’t tell...but...I was so happy to hear that. I just had no idea how to say anything.”
“...Oh,” he replied softly, sounding a little breathless with astonishment. Then the soft smile deepened, and a gleam came to his eyes. “Then don’t say anything.”
His kiss stole her breath. She whimpered against his mouth and then relaxed into his arms, trembling a little as his lips explored hers. His mouth traced along the line of her jaw, up to her earlobe, kissing and nibbling lightly before trailing down the muscle of her neck to suckle warmth to the surface at her pulse point. She moaned softly, clutching the back of his head, and whispered encouragement as he slid the strap of her slip off her shoulder and reached inside the fabric to cup and knead her breast.
It had been a long time since a man had touched her like this, and her body seemed to ache with long-starved desires. She slid her hands up his belly under his shirt, exploring his body--and sometimes simply clutching him as his slowly gliding mouth found a spot that sent tingles through her. Here, at her neck; here, at her nape; here, his tongue circling her nipple hard before he drew it into his mouth for long, lazy suckling.
She was sore and trembling before he switched breasts, his head half hidden under the coverlet. She sobbed gently with desire and shimmied the slip downward, puddling the fabric down over her hips. He grasped it and pulled it down further, and she arched her back to help, until she lay naked under him, her whole body awakened now and her belly fluttering.
His hands slid over her, exploring every inch of her skin, leading the way for his mouth’s attentions. He was hidden under the comforters, and she couldn’t quite see where he would move to next. Here, her breast; here, her belly; then the curve of her hip where her thigh met it; then, pulling her thighs open, her inner thigh. And then his warm breath blew over the sparse curls of her sex, and she gasped and stared wide-eyed at the ceiling, almost afraid to move.
He parted her with his fingers, gently brushing their smooth tips along her folds...and then followed with his lazily-exploring tongue. A harsh cry escaped her and her hips lifted reflexively, the air turning to fire in her lungs. He kept at her, so slow, almost lazy, his tongue lapping and swirling against her most sensitive flesh while her cries rose until they echoed off the ceiling. And still he teased at her, refusing to speed his movements and let her climax.
She sobbed his name, drugged with pleasure, her hands in his hair and sliding over his shoulders, her body slowly, slowly growing taut with tension waiting for release. Her head lolled back on the pillow, and she heard her cries go harsh and incoherent. And still he wouldn’t let her go over the edge, pulling back as she went up on her heels.
She collapsed back to the mattress, writhing and twisted, unfulfilled and yet wild with pleasure and happiness. He wanted her. He was covering her with kisses, and up he came now from under the comforter, sitting up to tear off his shirt and kick the thermal pants off, eyes wild with lust.
He crouched over her, and she whimpered and parted her legs for him, her voice rising in an almost-plea as she felt his erection slide against her thighs and then push insistently against her sex. Her hips lifted...and he slid into her, a long groan of relief and hunger turning into a harsh shout as he sank in completely.
He tried to go slowly, but his body wouldn’t cooperate any more. He hunched and shoved against her, his hips rolling faster and faster, using a little too much of his strength, pressing her into the mattress and making her sob for air. His breath was all shuddering gasps, as if he was struggling to keep quiet and in control.
She wanted it to last forever. But her body was already tightening around him, and she raked her fingers over his back and raised her hips to meet him again and again as he groaned and panted and pounded into her.
She heard her own voice rising in desperate cries, counterpointed by his muffled groans--and then her nerve endings caught up and her climax roared over her in a series of waves. She wailed, nails digging into the skin of his back as he slammed his hips against her. And then he arched his back and shuddered against her, body pushed against hers and his member spasming inside of her. He cried out her name...and then caught himself on his arms before he could collapse over her.
She came back to herself to see him staring down at her in the moonlight, his eyes bright and his hair askew. She reached up to smooth his hair and caressed his face softly. He smiled lazily and leaned down to kiss her. “That was almost worth getting stranded up here....”
“Yes,” she murmured against his lips. “Yes it was.”
T
hey made love twice more before dawn flooded the windows and Anna’s growling stomach demanded she seek out the last scraps of food for them. Two slices of toast apiece with a few bits of roast beef on them. They sat next to each other as they ate, distracting each other from the shrinking pile of wood and the lack of snowplow noises with little gestures of tenderness. They might be in trouble, but they had found an antidote for their survival terror in the sweetness of afterglow.
After breakfast, they went out briefly to survey the mess the storm left in the harsh light of day. The quarter mile to the road was a smooth mass of snow, and the road itself was no better. It would be a half mile of breaking trail in the icy cold, and Anna fretted while Henry steeled himself for it. Hopefully their neighbors would actually be home, instead of somewhere safer and saner.
Henry waited until the sun was high, and the temperature rose enough above freezing that the tops of the snowdrifts went soft and glistening. Then he went to bundle himself up for the walk, his eyes determined.
As he went, Anna thought she heard something like a motor rumbling along out there. She went out again, breath misting in the air...and yes, that was definitely a diesel motor, coming closer. She stared...and saw a snowcat blunder up the hill, its treads plowing across the snowdrifts easily.
Amazed, she turned to go back inside and call for Henry. But then she heard a voice call out “Anna!”
James?
She turned back and poked her head out again--and there he was, driving the snow-cat as close to the door as he dared. His face was red from exertion, and his eyes only started to lose the faint wildness of worry in them when he saw her.
“There you are! I hate being right sometimes.” He sighed relief and cut the engine. “Go get him, wherever he’s got to. There's another storm due within the hour. Let’s get the Hell out of here!”
She found Henry and they hurried back to the door, stopping only to grab a few belongings. The rest could damned well wait. “Jesus, am I glad to see you,” Henry admitted as James frowned thoughtfully down at him.
James’s scowl deepened, and his tone filled with exasperation. “What the hell did I tell you, Boss?”
“I know, I know. I really owe you for this one.” He reached to help Anna up--and blinked, because James had already scooped her up one-armed into the cockpit. He stared for a moment, then sighed and climbed in with them.
“By the way...where did you get this snowcat?”
“Parks department,” James said in a clipped tone.
“Do...they...know you borrowed it?”
James started up the engine. “Nope.” His expression was grimly resigned.
“I...see. Guess I’d better be ready to smooth things over over there on your behalf, then.”
“That would be appreciated.” James sighed quietly, then looked over at Anna. “You all right?”
“I am now. I could really go for a gigantic breakfast about now, though.”
His eyes twinkled. “Well, all right then, sounds like you’ll live. We’ll stop on the way if we can find someplace open.” He spared a hard look at Henry. “You’re buying.”
Henry laughed. “Okay, agreed.”
James turned the snowcat and headed back down the hill, bouncing them slowly toward the tracks he had made from town. He turned to retread them, steering them toward civilization. He whistled as he drove, seeming very relieved despite the stern looks he occasionally gave Henry, or the gently concerned ones he gave Anna.
Henry reached over as they drove and gently folded Anna’s hand in his own behind James’s back. He gave her a smile, and squeezed her hand comfortingly as they left the farmhouse behind.
THE END
Out of Lies
Billionaire Christmas Story
Book Two
Violet Walker
Billionaire Christmas Story: Out of Lies
“
W
ell, this is just great,” Henry Reid grumbled as he stared out the hotel window at a million blowing snowflakes. “At least we’re more or less back to civilization now.” Henry, real estate billionaire and the most amazing man Anna McCallister had ever met, couldn’t control the weather. A few days ago, he and Anna, his assistant, had ended up stranded in one of his refurbished farmhouses in Upstate New York, forced to stay put by a powerful snowstorm. They had become lovers then, before Henry’s grumpy but capable foreman James Thompson had rescued them on a stolen snowcat. Now another storm had hit, just hours after their rescue, and they were holed up at a bed and breakfast in nearby Phoenicia.
“Phone lines are out,” James told the two of them as he walked back into Henry’s suite from the lobby. James and Henry were opposites in many ways, Anna noticed as she sat warming up by the suite’s radiator. Both were in perhaps their late thirties or early forties with smile lines starting on their faces and nicely fit profiles. Henry was very tall, muscular but a bit lean, with pale skin, green eyes and floppy coffee-colored hair. He wore suits and expensive sweaters, he was almost never without a tie, and he spent most of his time in New York City where his business and penthouse both were. James was a Catskills native who lived in a trailer he’d refurbished himself, six inches shorter than his boss but with the powerful build of a man who used his body on job sites all day. His hands were callused where Henry’s were soft, and he had tanned skin even in winter, short white-blond hair, and eyes as blue as lake ice. He was a jeans and workbooks man, now with a fleece lined leather jacket over layers of flannel. He spoke in a low, growling voice, and usually used as few words as possible. “Still getting bars on my phone so the tower’s not down, but if we get a long enough blackout, that’ll be all she wrote.”
“Thanks, James. That buys me some time. Good thing I didn’t leave the damn cell phone in my car.” Henry sighed. His SUV was under several feet of snow back at the farmhouse, and would probably be there until he rented gear for James to plow it out.
“I’ve got mine if it came down to it,” Anna soothed. She was a small, voluptuous woman with a headful of mahogany-colored curls, her eyes as pale as James’s but gray-green, like olive leaves. She clutched the heavy wool shawl that James had handed her when she walked in the door around her.. Henry glanced at her and nodded distractedly, still looking out at the storm. He had been that way since they had arrived safely in town: distracted, troubled. Maybe about his projects, maybe about something else. Maybe about...them.
No, that’s not possible. He has to be happy that we got together. He was smiling an awful lot after we made love. He held my hand on the way over here.
“Anna. Here.” James brought her a mocha from downstairs, and crossed the room with it, pressing it gently into her hands, their fingertips brushing as he did so. He didn’t know about her and Henry yet. She felt a strange surge of shame when she thought of his finding out. James had shown his attraction to her since the first job site she had visited, and he was thoughtful and gentle with her. “Drink this down, you’ll feel better.” His eyes lingered on hers, and she smiled at him gratefully before taking a sip.
He swallowed and turned away, blinking and rubbing his empty palm on the thigh of his jeans as he brought Henry his drink. “Already talked to your dog sitter and maid, stuff back in the City is handled. They’re gonna want more at the doggie daycare for keeping Monty over the holiday.”
“Understood. Poor Monty. He loves Christmas. Knocks my tree over twice every year. He'll be so disappointed to skip this year. ” Henry sighed, then coughed into his fist. “Okay, well, I’ve got a couple phone calls to make as soon as possible.” Henry frowned. “I have a friend or two in town I should reach out to...gotta call my doctor’s office...and I need to contact the Parks Department to smooth over the matter of that missing snowcat.” He and James exchanged meaningful glances. James had a police record from more desperate days, which was why he had gone without work for so long before Henry found him. Tonight, he had used his thieving skills again--to save their lives--and Henry was going to have to do some tap dancing with the Parks authority to make sure charges weren’t pressed.
James nodded. “Good. Thanks. Last thing I need to be dealing with right now.” He didn’t show any guilt for taking the vehicle because it was Henry’s fault they had been stuck up at the farmhouse. He had ignored James’s warnings about the incoming storm. If he had
n’
t, they would not have needed rescuing in the first place. “C’mon, sweetheart, let’s give the man his privacy.”
Anna stood, exchanging glances with Henry. He nodded to her, and she walked out with James, who was so close to her that he was almost hovering. It was strange to have him so attentive now, his eyes still hungry and hopeful when they exchanged glances. For much of the last six months, she had spent her time wishing Henry would look at her that way. Now, she had the memory of Henry’s body tangled with hers, and how he had pleased her in that low, cold bed. But Henry still didn’t look at her that way. Fondly, even tenderly at times, but not like this. Not as if the sun never set on her. Not the way that...she looked at Henry.
This is a mess,
she thought, but the soft bliss of finally ending up in Henry’s arms eased her worries. If he loved her, she could handle anything. Of course, he had never actually said the words, but he must. After a night like that...how could there be any doubt?
Not that Anna had much experience in relationships at all. She was desperately shy, which was one reason she had never responded to James’s overtures. Her time with Henry was the first time it had been any good. And the second, and the third...she hid her smile behind a big gulp of mocha. Yes, this was love. It had to be love.
But that left her with the problem of figuring out how to let James down easy without breaking his brave, unselfish heart.
“The guys down at the bar think we’ll see six feet before the storm’s over. It’s not pretty. But now that I’ve got you down off that damn mountainside, all it really does is leave us stuck here for a few days.” He walked beside her, hands shoved in his pockets. “You doing all right? I know there’s nothing like this down in Delaware.”
“No, there isn’t.” She looked out a window as they walked down the stairs and saw nothing but white. “But thanks to you, I’m fine.” She had to give credit where it was due. He was the one who had tried to warn them about the storm, and he was the one who had stolen that snowcat and driven it up the mountain. She still remembered hearing the engine, mere hours ago, followed by James worriedly shouting her name. Not Henry’s, not once, but hers.
The corners of his eyes crinkled and he shrugged. “Taking care of things is my job.”
She couldn’t meet that soft gaze of his very long without blushing and looking away. She had to watch it. She was with Henry now. There could be no room for confusion. “Well, I’m not very used to being taken care of.”
“Well, that’s a damn shame. Maybe someone should fix that,” he ventured softly.
She opened her mouth to tell him that was Henry’s job now...and it stuck strangely in her throat. She blinked at him, and swallowed, wondering what was going on.
Come on, we already resolved this. Henry won. I should just tell James and let him go looking elsewhere. This isn’t fair to any of us.
But the words wouldn’t come.
“I made you a little something for Christmas,” he said shyly. “It’s out in the Jeep. You mind getting a few more flakes in your hair?”
“Nah,” she said, wrinkling her nose with a little smile.
His eyes twinkled. “Good. C’mon. Best sip on that mocha before it turns into a milkshake on you when you go outside.”
Henry had gotten each of them a room a floor down from his. She had wondered at his choice, since clearly they had some new relationship energy to burn through yet, but figured that he didn’t want James to catch on quite yet. So, separate rooms as they waited out the storm. She went by her room to grab her overcoat and mittens, throwing the scarf on over her hair and shoulders. She then popped back out her door, nearly running into James in the process. “Oops! Sorry.”
“No harm.” He had caught the mocha before she could spill it, steadying her hand with his gloved one. She blinked up at him, and then looked down shyly.
Oh come on. What is going on here?
Embarrassed, she turned and walked down the hall toward the stairs, sipping more rapidly on her drink.
Outside, the temperature had plunged again, but the wind had died, leaving the snow dumping down on them in thick curtains that muffled sound and made everything seem strangely enclosed. They hurried together, down the sidewalk, toward his tall and slightly battered Jeep.
Anna was distracted thinking of Henry back in his suite, hoping he got his business done before anything happened to the cell tower. With everything else going on, she wanted him to be able to reconnect with his business and friends--that “civilized” world he had been cut off from for three days. She also hoped that he would call her to his suite tonight, for more beautiful, perfect--
Her feet slipped on the icy sidewalk and James darted forward to catch her, his feet firm under him. “Gotcha!” He held her until she got her feet under her, hands gentle on her shoulders. “You all right?”
“I…” She leaned on him a moment, catching her breath. He stood there, a warm, steady presence, though a tremor went through him now and again. “Thank you.”
He stayed there a moment longer than he had to. His touch calmed her and made her feel safe. It was so different from Henry’s, which made her feel giddy and nervous, almost a little drunk. She looked up at him, and there was that soft look in his eyes again. He drew a deep breath, and then said, “C’mon, it’s right over here.” But he kept his arm around her shoulders protectively as he led her to the Jeep.
He dug in the trunk and came out with a small flat box wrapped in a scrap of the Sunday comics page. “Here,” he puffed, snowflakes melting in the spikes of his hair as he stood with her under the temporary awning of the Jeep’s back hatch. He offered it, and she took it and unwrapped it quickly. Inside was a bracelet carved out from a cross section of tree branch, the ring divisions showing on its edges and where a filigree design was carved down its middle. “Toby taught me wood carving a year back, and I’ve been working on it off and on ever since.…” His growly voice hesitated a little.
“It’s beautiful.” She took off her glove and slipped it on immediately. It felt silky smooth against her skin, and she wondered what he had polished it with and how long it had taken. She had a sudden mental image of him sitting in his trailer by his woodstove, polishing the bracelet with chamois and wax, for hours maybe--and all the time thinking of her.
Her throat contracted and she hugged him suddenly, arms going around him and squeezing his big body as tightly as she could manage. He let out a little startled groan, as if she had punched him in the stomach. Then he wrapped his arms around her firmly.
She laid her head against his chest and closed her eyes, and felt her heart stretch in two different directions. And she swallowed, mouth suddenly dry.
I think I’m in serious trouble.