Sarah Morgan - Snow Crystal Trilogy - Sleigh Bells in the Snow / Suddenly Last Summer / Maybe This Christmas

“I make you nervous?” She was willing to bet this man had never been nervous of anything in his life.

“You scared me with all that screaming—I need time to get my courage back before I walk home. I can’t be alone right now.”

“Yeah, right—” she eyed the muscles of his shoulders “—because you’re so fragile, obviously.”

“I’m scared of the dark, terrified of loose popcorn and frightened out of my wits by screaming women. Either you put some lights on right now or you’re going to have to hold my hand.” He rose to his feet and she took a step backward wishing, not for the first time, that Jackson O’Neil wasn’t so damn sure of himself.

But he didn’t approach her. Instead he scooped up Maple and the blanket and carried the puppy through to the bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar while Kayla watched in bemusement.

“What are you doing?”

“She’s too young to witness what we’re about to do.”

“We’re not about to do anything.” Her heart was pounding harder than when he’d emerged from the darkness. “This is not a good idea.”

“I think it’s the best idea either one of us has had in a long time.”

“You should go home, Jackson.”

“What I should do and what I often choose to do aren’t the same thing. Ask any one of the teachers I had growing up.” He was standing right in front of her now—lean, athletic and powerful.

She stared at the blue-black stubble that shadowed his jaw. And that proved to be a mistake because she just wanted to reach out and run her fingers over it. And she wanted to stand on tiptoe and press her face to his, feel that male roughness scrape the sensitive flesh of her cheek.

“You should go before we both do something stupid.” Her voice came out like a croak, and the corners of his mouth flickered into a smile.

“Go ahead. Do something stupid.”

Everything he said flustered her, and she wasn’t used to feeling flustered.

“I’d be using you,” she blurted out, “to fill this one night because I’m lonely. Do you really want to be used?”

“Hell, yes.” His laugh was deep and sexy. “How soon can you start?”

“You’re a client.”

“I don’t hear either of us talking about work right now.” His hand slid behind her head and into her hair, and his eyes were suddenly gentle. “So you’re lonely, Kayla Green?”

There was a long, pulsing silence.

“Yes.” It was a simple truth, but a truth she never admitted.

“Because it’s Christmas?”

“No. But it’s worse at Christmas. There’s nothing quite like being surrounded by family groups to remind a person they have no one. Not even someone to argue with or be irritated with.”

“I know people who will be happy to irritate the hell out of you. Anytime you want to spend time with them, just say the word.” His fingers were in her hair. His mouth close to hers. The gentleness had gone. His tone was rough and his eyes dark, the sexual chemistry so intense she couldn’t breathe. It pulled at her, melted low in her belly and fired her nerve endings.

“This would be a mistake.” She locked her hand in the front of his sweater, and his arm came around her waist.

“Mistakes are what make us human.” He spoke the words against her lips and then he was kissing her, his mouth hard and hungry, and she kissed him right back because he was all she wanted and needed. There was nothing in her head except this moment, and she slid her hands under his sweater, moaned as she felt the warmth of his skin and the ripple of male muscle under her palms.

“You feel good—” Frustrated by the barrier created by his clothing, she tugged, pulled, and he broke the kiss long enough to yank the sweater over his head along with the T-shirt he was wearing under it. They both staggered but he locked her against him again, and she slid her hands over his shoulders, feeling the hard swell and dip of muscle. “You’ve lifted a lot of logs in your time.”

“All part of the job.” With rough, impatient hands he parted her robe and inhaled. “If I’d known that was what you were wearing underneath there’s no way our conversation would have lasted as long as it did.”

She licked at his lips. “I’m not wearing anything.”

“That’s what I mean. Hell, Kayla—” With a groan, he backed her against the wall, trapping her between the smooth wood of the cabin and the hard heat of his body. And now, finally, she could see him properly. See the contours of those powerful shoulders, the dark curling hair that shadowed his chest, the swell of his biceps and the strength of his forearms as he pinned her there.

For a few indulgent seconds they just looked at each other.

She was breathing rapidly and so was he, his eyes so dark they no longer seemed blue.

“What happened to your underwear?” His voice was thickened and rough, loaded with the same tension that held her breathless.

“It got wet in the forest when that tree shook itself on me.”

The corner of his mouth flickered and he lifted his hand to her cheek. “You make me smile, Kayla Green.”

Her heart was pounding. “You make me smile, too.”

He lowered his head fractionally, just enough to drive her crazy with anticipation, and the feeling terrified her because she couldn’t ever remember feeling this way before.

Out of control .

He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Have I told you you’re beautiful?”

“No.” Her fingers bit into the warmth of his shoulder. “Are you going to kiss me again or am I going to have to force you?”

His smile was slow and sure. “Just taking my time.”

“How much time?” She could hardly breathe. “I need to know whether to take control or not.”

“You’re in a hurry?” His voice was rough and deliciously male. “Is there someplace you need to be?”

“No—” Her breathing hitched as she felt his hand on the base of her spine. “I’m just a person who likes to get things done.”

“I never would have guessed that about you. You always seem so laid-back and calm.” His hand was inside her robe and she felt the warmth of his palm on her bare skin, felt his hand linger on the dip of her waist and then lower to the curve of her hip. And his touch drove her crazy because she wanted this so badly—wanted to feel his hands on her, his mouth on her—and he was making her wait until she thought the waiting might drive her out of her mind.

She ached as she’d never ached before, and when his fingers closed on her thigh, she slid her leg around him, locking them together. She could feel him, thick and hard, his erection contained by the fabric of his jeans.

“You’re wearing too much—” Her fingers searched for the snap of his jeans and she heard him suck in breath. Seconds later he was as naked as she was. Her hand closed around the pulsing thickness of his shaft and she heard the rhythm of his breathing change.

“Jesus Christ—”

The tension was incredible. All the more so because it had been slowly building since their first meeting.

She rose on her toes, her mouth a breath away from his. “You want to wait? Because if you do that’s fine by—”

Their mouths clashed, sensation shot through her and after that there was no holding back. There was no slow. No steady. No careful. One word came into her head.

Wild .

He took her mouth with raw hunger, and she was the same—demanding, desperate as she felt the possessive bite of his fingers in her hair.

Without lifting his mouth from hers, he pushed the robe from her shoulders, leaving her naked. Cool air swept across her skin, but she was pressed against the heat of him. Flesh against flesh. Female against male. Fire against flame. It licked at her, driving her higher until she felt nothing like herself, nothing like she’d ever felt before. He held her locked there, trapped against the powerful ridge of his erection while they kissed, taking his time with her until the heat was so intense she thought she’d explode. She arched against him, pressing into that hardness, and finally he lifted his mouth, but only to explore another part of her—her cheek, her jaw, the base of her throat. She felt the scrape of stubble against the sensitive flesh of her breast and then gasped as he sucked her nipple into the warmth of his mouth.