Jill Shalvis - Holiday Hideout - The Thanksgiving Fix / The Christmas Set-Up / The New Year's Deal

An unreadable emotion flickered in his eyes. “That would be crazy, wouldn’t it?” He set his wineglass on the table and shifted his position on the couch, effectively bringing him closer to her.

“Yep, crazy.” But not all that unappealing. Yes, she’d have to be very careful. “For the first time in I don’t know how long, I can just relax and enjoy being with a man. And that’s special.”

“It’s special for me, too.” He smiled as he leaned toward her.

She mirrored his movements. He was almost within kissing range. She was about to close her eyes in preparation for being kissed when the smoke alarm went off.

They broke apart and she jumped up to discover the kitchen was rapidly filling with smoke from the oven. “That would be our pizza burned to a crisp.”

Moving quickly, she switched off the oven and pulled out the charred remains of the pizza while Mac opened the kitchen window and waved the smoke away from the alarm mounted on the wall.

“Stand back.” She carried the smoking pizza to the front door. “I’m putting this out in the snow.”

“Not in your bare feet.” He deftly removed the pan, pot holders and all, from her grip. “While I take this out, you can close the window.”

She hurried to do that as the smoke alarm sputtered into silence.

In seconds he was back, rubbing his arms and shivering. “News flash, it’s very cold out there.”

“I’m sorry, Mac.” She stepped closer, wondering if they’d progressed to the stage where she could hug him and warm him up. “That was our dinner, and now it’s ruined.”

“No worries.” He answered her unspoken question by drawing her slowly into his arms. “Here’s another news flash—I’m not really here for the food, anyway.”

ALL THROUGH THEIR CONVERSATION on the couch, Mac had been thinking his reaction to Beth was only growing more intense the longer they were together. Meanwhile, she kept reminding him that it wouldn’t lead to anything significant.

He’d decided he’d be a better judge of that after he kissed her. Leaning across a large couch wasn’t the most graceful way to make a move, though. If either of them had lost their balance, the kiss could have gotten ugly fast.

Then the smoke alarm had screeched—a blessing in disguise because now they were upright, giving him the chance to gather her close and align his body with hers. He vastly preferred kissing a woman while employing full-on body contact.

God, she felt good, and she smelled even better; the cinnamon he’d noticed earlier blended with a scent that made his blood race. He gazed into her soft green eyes and brushed his thumbs lightly over her cheeks, which had a light dusting of freckles.

Her eyelashes fluttered and then she closed her eyes with a tiny sigh, drawing his attention to her full mouth. She wore no lipstick, but the natural pale rose of her lips turned him on far more than if she’d been wearing the kind of bright color he’d seen in commercials, the kind that was supposed to drive men wild.

Personally, he’d never agreed with that. Unadorned mouths were sexier, especially when they parted in a subtle invitation every red-blooded man understood.

His groin tightened. He wanted to press his mouth against hers, wanted to grant her unspoken wish that he slide his tongue between her lips and discover her secrets. And yet…

Her stand on commitment was clear—she was through seeking it. Only, whenever he looked at her, he saw his future. The belief was irrational and foolish, and he knew it would only set him up for heartbreak. He’d never allowed himself to be so vulnerable to a woman, to need someone who might not need him back.

Then she took the decision away from him. Gripping the back of his head in both hands, she pulled him down into…paradise.

As his protective shields slipped away, he wondered if he’d live to regret this moment. He’d take that chance. Submerging his doubts, he surrendered to the absolute perfection of her kiss.

Their mouths seemed made for each other. His brain stalled out but his instincts took over, guiding him through this wonderland of sensations. She tasted of wine and desire, freedom and adventure. Her kiss hinted at exotic delights that could be his in the warm haven of her arms.

His body responded with hot urgency. He’d intended the kiss to be a gentle exploration of the possibilities between them. Instead, she’d plunged him into a world drenched in passion, leaving him breathless and dazed.

With a soft moan, she wriggled free and stepped back, gulping for air. “You wanted…to go…slow.”

“To hell with that.” He pulled her into his arms again and recaptured her mouth. They could go slow the next round. For now, he needed her with a desperation that he hadn’t experienced in a long time. And that felt good, damn good.

He was so eager that he briefly considered backing her up to the kitchen table. He didn’t think he’d get any objection from her. She’d already started unbuttoning his shirt.

But that soft covering on the king-size bed called to him. Fortunately, the bedroom opened right off the kitchen.

He stopped kissing her long enough to reach into his coat pocket and grab the box of condoms.

Handing her the box, he swooped her up in his arms, carried her into the darkened bedroom and deposited her crossways on the bed. She lay in a shaft of light coming from the kitchen, her chest heaving. He took the box from her and tossed it aside, and then he followed her down.

He should stop long enough to take off his work boots, but he couldn’t seem to get enough of her mouth, so he made sure his feet stayed on the floor. She kissed like no other woman he’d known, as if nothing else mattered but that sweet connection.

If her mouth tasted this good, the rest of her must be even better. Between kisses, he began working her out of her clothes. Once her sweatshirt and bra were gone, he set out on a journey of discovery that took him from her lips to the fullness of her breasts.

She whimpered and arched her back as he drew her nipple into his mouth. He cupped her other breast, loving the way she fit perfectly into his hand. He reveled in the silky texture of her skin and the heady aroma of cinnamon and aroused woman.

Touching her was as natural as breathing. She was exotic and new, yet familiar, as if they’d danced this dance before and knew each other’s moves. When she moaned softly, he understood without words what she wanted. Sliding his hand inside her panties, he caressed her slick heat.

She gasped and began to quiver.

He continued to stroke her as he slowly kissed his way up from her breasts to recapture her mouth. She returned the kiss with unrestrained hunger, and when he lifted his head, she tried to draw him back down.

He resisted. “Open your eyes,” he murmured.

Her lashes fluttered upward, revealing eyes that had grown dark and stormy with need. She said his name on a sigh. “Mac…”

“I’m here.” He thrust two fingers in deeper.

“Oh, Mac…it’s so good.”

“That’s the idea.” He stroked her with a slow, steady rhythm and watched color bloom on her cheeks. Pressure built within him, pressure that would have to be dealt with soon, but he wanted to give her this first. He circled her clit with his thumb.

She moaned and lifted her hips, a silent plea in her eyes.

That was his cue to increase the pace. Her soft cries grew louder as he propelled her ever closer toward the brink. Holding her gaze, he paid special attention to her trigger point, and she arched off the bed with a wild cry of release.

As she lay trembling beside him, he leaned down and feathered kisses over her cheeks and mouth. “Happy Thanksgiving.”