Baby, It's Cold Outside Page 6

  Chapter Eight

  Zanna should have been nervous, and maybe she was, just a little. Jace Morgan was presently filling her to the hilt. Repeatedly, and with great determination. Pretty much that was all that mattered. He could tie her naked in public as long as he didn’t stop, didn’t leave her. Didn’t ask her to leave him.

  They bucked and arched, their bodies slapping together, grunting, groaning, even growling a little. And then he stopped, jaw tight, as if using a great deal of restraint. When he finally opened his eyes, they were glassy, shocking her.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, alarmed.

  “Not a damn thing,” he said, his voice choked. He gentled his hold on her wrists, where he’d kept them pinned to the bed with his hands. Forced himself to relax his body, so tautly poised over hers, inside of hers. “Not a goddamn thing,” he whispered again, sounding almost ravaged.

  “Jace—”

  “Shh,” he said, letting her hands go. He pushed his fingers into her hair, spread wildly across the bed. His lips twitched at the corners a little, but the humor didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We’re having at each other like starving beasts here.”

  She tried a little smile, too, but still didn’t understand what she was seeing in his eyes. “I guess we are, but can you blame us?”

  He shook his head, tenderly stroking her hair now, her face. “A part of me is always going to be starved for you.”

  He made her breath catch in her throat. “Jace, I don’t want you to—”

  He hushed her with a kiss, a kiss so sweet and gentle she felt tears build behind her eyes.

  “What’s going on?” she whispered when he continued the trail of heartbreakingly sweet kisses along her jaw. “You’re scaring me a little.”

  He lifted his head, surprise on his face. “Scaring you? I must really be losing my touch then.”

  She reached for his face, ran her fingers along every feature, stared hard into his fathomless blue eyes. “Don’t say good-bye to me,” she said, voicing her deepest fear. That now that he’d had her, now that he’d gotten what he’d dreamed of having for ten long years, he’d walk away. Not from revenge, just because it was the natural conclusion. Story over.

  He smiled then. A smile as wide as the sky and as open. And every last thing he was feeling showed clearly on his face.

  “Oh,” she said, breath catching, body twitching as he settled his hips deeply into hers. “Oh, Jace.”

  “Put your arms around me, Zan. Hold me tight,” he said, stopping to kiss her deeply, slowly. “I slowed us down because now that I’m inside of you, I know this isn’t about slaking desire.” He rained short kisses along her jaw. “And it’s not about need, or fulfilling ten years of longing.” He kissed her cheeks, her nose, her forehead.

  Tears had already begun to track from the corners of her eyes. And when he lifted his head, looked down at her, she realized why his own were so glassy.

  “This is about making love. To you. I’ve always loved you, can’t imagine a world where that isn’t possible. I want to take my time, do this right, fall in love with you all over again.” He slid deep, pulled her legs up over his hips, until her body was wrapped completely around his. She already knew she was wrapped tightly inside his heart. “Make it last forever,” he whispered against her neck.

  “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Jace, but as God is my witness, I swear I will never underestimate the power of this . . . or you . . . or us, ever again.” She pulled his head down to hers. “I never stopped loving you. I know I never will.”

  “Show me, Zanna. Show me. And don’t stop showing me.”

  They moved together and it was as if their bodies had never been apart, as if they’d grown together, matured together. She supposed that was the way of it when you were meant for somebody.

  He said her name as he came, held her possessively, fiercely tender as he poured himself into her. And that was all it took to meet him there. And then they could go even slower, rediscover each other, drive each other up and over the edge again. Long into the night, they turned to each other, took each other, loved each other.

  And somewhere around dawn they finally began talking.

  Tucked in a blanket on the couch they’d shoved over in front of the huge hotel room window, they watched the snow continue to fall in fat, heavy flakes while wrapped up in each other’s arms. He told her about being a gym teacher, and coaching basketball. It was clear the honest enthusiasm and love he had for the kids he’d helped to learn the sport he loved. She told him about working her way up in the accounting firm in Atlanta, about feeling like she had to do something bigger and better with her college degree. That she’d told herself she was making her mother proud, but what she’d really been doing was trying to prove to herself that despite making a dreadful mistake in her personal life, that it hadn’t all been an illusion, that she could get her own brass ring, that she didn’t need someone to buy it for her. And then she told him about Dan.

  How she’d been literally swept off her feet by his bigger than life world, how she’d let him make her believe that part of growing up was leaving all her childhood things behind. Make her feel childish for wanting to cling to the past. She’d learned, the hard way, that what he was doing by separating her from the things she’d loved was making her more dependant on him. Because he was insecure, jealous even, of the ties she’d had in her own life, ones he’d wanted but never gotten from his oh-so-perfect-looking family. He wanted her tied to him and him alone. She’d seen the real side of him the night before her wedding, when he’d come to her apartment, drunk from his bachelor party. He done things . . . painful things . . . said things even more painful, degrading. . . that despite his pleas for forgiveness later, she knew, in her heart, were merely proof of the niggling concerns she’d had all along. Her mother had voiced them often enough, but she wouldn’t listen. But on the eve of what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life, she couldn’t dare not to.

  Jace held her tight as she told him all of it. He’d said nothing, just pressing his lips to her temple, letting her get it all out. And when she was done, rather than say anything, or pass any kind of judgment, he began talking about his father. About his guilt for not staying, for making a life somewhere else, for forsaking the life he had with his brothers in order to find some happiness for himself. About his restlessness of late, his thoughts of home, of his brothers, of making a mark where it mattered, and not where it was convenient. Then he’d told her that he’d always wondered what would have happened if he’d come after her. If he’d shown up on her doorstep and demanded to know why she’d let him, their friendship, their bond, slip away. And she told him she already knew that the what-ifs and maybes were the hardest things to live with.

  “I know,” he told her now, the sky still gray with snow. His lips were pressed against her hair as he held her cradled back against his chest. “We made some dumb decisions. I guess humans do that. You could wish you hadn’t had your head turned around by that guy. I could wish I’d come after you anyway. We both have regrets. None of them will do us any good.”

  She shifted around, pulled his head down and kissed him. Their lips were soft and puffy from a night spent kissing, so she was as gentle as she could be. “Except maybe to make us more careful this time.”

  “All we can do is hope,” he said. When she just looked at him, he said, “We’re going to make more mistakes, Zan. We’re going to make more bad choices. We’re still human.” He grinned a little. “Although I was feeling rather super-powerful that last time this morning, in the shower.”

  She laughed, swatting him across the chest, but forced to nod in agreement. With a little sigh, she relaxed back against him. “Well, this time around, let’s hope we make our mistakes together.”

  He squeezed her tight, eliciting a little squeal from her. “That’s my plan.” He rolled her over even as he slid down the couch, until she laid in a sprawled tangle of skin and blanket on top of him. “We we
ren’t meant to be apart again.”

  She shook her head, the tears that never seemed more than a blink away of late, surfaced again. “Not unless we’re really really stupid.”

  “I’d hunt you down this time,” he said, nipping at her chin.

  “Oh?” She nipped back, then began to slide down his body. “And just how do you plan on capturing me?”

  He rolled her to the floor then landed in a crouch on top of her. “I have my ways.”

  Laughter bubbling up, along with the desire that seemed to have no end, she wiggled her eyebrows. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to show me?”

  “Depends. How long do you think we’ve got until breakfast shows up?”

  She caught him off guard with a quick shove. An even quicker roll later, she was astride him. “Depends,” she shot back. “On how long it will take you to get free of my evil clutches.”

  He grinned, and her heart soared at the wide-open emotions he did nothing to hide now. “How do you know this isn’t exactly how I planned to keep you enslaved?”

  “Enslaved? My, my,” she said, glancing about for his belt. “That conjures up all sorts of naughty images, now doesn’t it?”

  His expression turned more than a little wary and she couldn’t help it, she laughed.

  He rolled her to her back, pinned her neatly beneath him. “Why is it I think I’m going to have my hands full for the next, oh I don’t know, half a century or so?”

  She leaned up and nipped him right on the nipple. Making him jerk, and making his body twitch to life. With raised eyebrows, she looked back up at him. He just smiled and gave her an innocent little shrug. Then they both laughed and rolled together until they were fully entwined.

  “I don’t know,” she finally answered, a bit breathlessly. “Are you interested in having your hands full?”

  “Now there’s a loaded question.”

  She merely continued looking at him, her heart so full to bursting, she didn’t think she could survive such intense happiness.

  “As long as they’re full of you, yes,” he said. Then with a sweet passion that still took her breath away, he kissed her tenderly. “I love you, Suzanna York.”

  “Boy,” she said, her breath leaving her in a whoosh. “I’m just never going to get tired of hearing you say that.”

  He grinned. “I know the feeling.”

  “I do love you, Jace Morgan.”

  The jarring ring of the phone interrupted her, making them both jump.

  “Don’t forget where you left off,” he told her with a quick kiss as he disentangled himself. “I’ll need to hear that a couple more hundred times myself.”

  “Definitely. And that’s probably my mother. Are you sure you want to answer—”

  But he already had. “Hi, Frances. Yes, it’s me, Jace.” There was a pause, then he grinned and said, “Oh, she’s perfectly fine.”

  Suzanna wrapped the blanket around herself and rolled to a sitting position. She pushed the hair from her eyes, and feasted on the vision of Jace Morgan, buck naked, talking quite casually on the phone—to her mother of all people! She had no doubts he understood the full ramifications of what he was doing. By noon today, blizzard or no blizzard, all of Marshall County would know they were back together.

  She hugged her knees close, smiling, not remotely concerned.

  Then Jace was hanging up the phone and her mouth fell open. “She didn’t want to talk with me? It’s Christmas Eve.”

  “I told her you’d call her back after we’d eaten breakfast.”

  Right on cue, there was a knock on the door.

  “You do have superpowers,” she said.

  He winked at her, strolling to the door. “And don’t you forget it. With a fortifying meal, there’s no telling what feats of daring and death-defying excitement I might be able to accomplish.”

  She couldn’t help it, she shivered in anticipation. Then she realized he was going to open the door and—” Jace! Shouldn’t you put something on?”

  “What?” He looked down. “Oh. Right.” In two quick strides he was across the room. One yank and she was no longer wrapped up in the blanket. He wrapped it around his waist and strolled right back to the door, sending her squealing into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her just as he opened the door to the hall. She waited a few moments, until she heard the door close once again, and called out, “You’re going to pay for that, you know.”

  He whipped the door open, tugged her out with one yank, right up against his once-again naked chest. “I figure we’re even, since I have no shirt to wear home.”

  Her cheeks warmed. “Oh yeah. That.”

  He smiled, apparently unconcerned. “Yeah. That.”

  She turned to the cart with the food tray on it. If he could be casually naked, so could she. “You want to eat on the couch? Watch the snow fall?”

  He tugged her back against him, nuzzled her neck. “You don’t mind that your mother knows? Should I have let you tell her?”

  She turned in his arms. “Oh, I’m pretty sure, knowing her, she had a good idea when we both got stuck here last night.”

  “But you didn’t tell her how many rooms we had.”

  “I don’t think I had to. Did it occur to you that she could have called on any number of other people to come get me from the station?”

  He didn’t have to answer. “We’ve been set up.”

  “By the best. Are you angry with her?”

  “Are you?”

  Suzanna shook her head, wrapped her arms around him. “How can I be? She gave me the bestest Christmas present of my life.”

  “The bestest, huh? I guess that’s a lot to live up to.”

  She pumped her hips against his, noting he was already well on his way “up.” “I think you’ll manage just fine.”

  “Do you now?”

  “I do.”

  His eyes darkened and his expression intensified. “Then I guess I should warn you, that I plan to hear those words from your lips again at some point in the future.”

  Her heart skipped a beat, then raced on, full steam ahead. She hugged him tightly. “As long as you plan on repeating them right back to me, I don’t think we’ll have a problem.”

  He kissed her, long and hard. “Thank you,” he whispered against her lips.

  “For?”

  “For making me feel like I’m home. Really home. For the first time.”

  She could only nod, kissing him long and deep, until they were both so stirred up that breakfast was completely forgotten. “And thank you,” she whispered.

  “For?”

  “Waiting for me. Not giving that beautiful heart to someone else.”

  “I couldn’t give it to anyone else. It’s always belonged to you.”

  She pressed her lips to his chest, right over his heart. “You were my Christmas past, you’re my Christmas present. . .” She looked up into his eyes, her own shining with everything she felt inside. “And I want you to be my every Christmas future.”

  He pulled her up against him, taking her mouth in a kiss so hard and deep it literally lifted her off her feet. “Now that’s what I call the bestest Christmas present ever,” he said, spinning her around once before setting her back down.

  She pressed a hand over her racing heart, laughing a little at his exuberance. He let her go and began taking lids off of their breakfast dishes. “Now, since my present is already unwrapped . . .” He turned with a bowl of strawberries and a little pot of honey. “I guess it’s only fair that I get to do a little holiday decorating.” With a grin as wicked as she’d ever seen it, he gave a little nod. “Couch or bed?”

  She couldn’t answer him, her gaze was going from the honey pot . . . to the wicked gleam in his eye. It was all she could do to remain upright.

  “Okay then, right here.” He juggled the bowl and pot into one hand, and lifted her arms out, one at a time with the other. “Hmm,” he said, walking around her, dipping his finger into the honey.

&nbs
p; She gasped when he let a drop of honey drizzle first on one nipple then the other. And tried not to squirm when he bit through a strawberry, and pressed each half firmly onto the dab of honey. “Now this is what I call trimming the tree.”

  She eyed him through a haze of pleasure. “Just be warned. I fully intend to deck your . . . halls. Later.”

  “Oh,” he assured her, rolling another whole strawberry into the honey pot. “I’m counting on it.” He pressed it into her navel, and when it wouldn’t stay there . . . he pressed it somewhere else.

  “Jace!”

  He knelt in front of her, trailed the drizzle of honey dripping down her thighs with his tongue. “Hmm?”

  “Nothing,” she said, jerking with pleasure, grabbing on to his shoulders for balance. “Just . . . don’t stop . . . what you’re . . . oh my God.”

  She could feel his chuckle between her legs.

  “Don’t ever stop.”

  “Not until you beg me to.” And he kept his promise.

  Then again, Jace had always been the “dependable” Morgan. She’d just never known how much she could come to depend on him. But she was about to find out.

  Don’t miss the other Men of Rogues Hollow novella, “Making Waves”!

  When his chief crewman sails off into the sunset for a luxurious high-paying Yuletide gig, brand-new yacht captain Burke Morgan has no desire for a last-minute replacement cook. Not to mention one who also suffers from motion sickness. On the other hand, a holiday menu limited to scrambled eggs and cold sandwiches won’t cut it. And once he sets eyes on beautiful Kamala Apolo—and tastes her mouthwatering cooking—he’s practically knocked off his sea legs.

  Dashing and flirtatious, Burke is far from the grandfatherly type Kamala was expecting. But she’ll have to keep the butterflies in her stomach at bay if she wants to do her job, avoid getting sea sick—and maybe even find love, just in time for Christmas . . .