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But she drew her sweater and thin cami over her head anyway. Even knowing the others were so close that anyone might come down and see. Knowing tomorrow would sting more after having tonight. She still stripped for him, shimmying out of her pants, then toeing off her shoes and socks.
When she wore only her bra and panties, she turned away from him, shutting her eyes at his indrawn breath from the fumble of her fingers at the clasp. She shrugged off the straps, letting them slide slowly down her arms before the wisp of material fell to the floor. The flickering fire sent heat whispering over her skin as she bent, long hair falling forward, to ease her silky panties over her hips and down her legs.
The fabric was wet. So wet. He could make her burn with a look, a word. And now, just from the weight of his stare on the body she was revealing to him without shame.
Nick had given her this too, that confidence in the sexual arena. She hadn’t had it before him, not after being with a man who’d called her a prude and frigid to boot. But her estranged husband had been right. She hadn’t enjoyed sex—with him.
With Nick, it was an epiphany.
She kicked aside her panties and shifted toward the fire, then rested her hands on the mantle and stared down into the flames. Her skin felt seared from the warmth and too tight to hold everything inside. All her feelings for him, all her doubts and insecurities.
Especially the desire that made her move her hips impatiently, seeking a comfort she couldn’t find. Not without him inside her, sating her need.
“So goddamn gorgeous. You’re like a dream. No, screw that. My imagination’s not that good.” She startled at his calloused palm coasting up her bare back. His mouth brushed her earlobe and she leaned back, desperate to feel the solid weight of him behind her. He’d never let her fall. “I’m about to disgrace this Santa outfit,” he murmured, and she laughed, turning her head for the pure joy of seeing his golden eyes twinkle.
“Condom?” He never forgot, but maybe just this once he’d been swept away.
What a glorious thought.
His frown made her do the same. “Damn Simon.”
“Does he buy your condoms for you?”
Nick snorted. “Hardly. The bastard likes to brag he doesn’t use them with Margo anymore. But normally, he buys me some for Christmas. This year, I got the frigging Led Zep boxed set and a painting of two nude chicks. And they weren’t even making out.”
She rolled her eyes. “Hello, I was here, I saw. That picture was a Van Renseleer. His work goes for—”
“I don’t give two shits. Just because Simon’s Mr. Model Dude now, he thinks I want art? No. I want frigging rubbers, so I can make my yuletides bright.” He nuzzled her neck and made her grin in spite of his utter cluelessness.
“I’m still trying to figure out why you’re mad Simon got you a Christmas gift that cost actual money rather than a cheap box of drugstore latex.”
“I’ll give you a hint.” He slipped a hand down her belly, not stopping until the tips of his fingers brushed the apex of her thighs. “This, right here? The center of my fucking universe. The altar that I worship on. As a matter of fact...”
Her breath caught as he drew her back from the fireplace and moved around her to kneel at her feet. He still wore the silly Santa top, and his pants were half undone, and Jesus, the hat was still perched on his disorderly blondish-brown hair. But his expression was hotter than the fire as he bent his head and gave her a long, slow,thoroughlick.
Her eyes closed, and her head fell back, but not before she saw the tremor go through him. That it was a visible thing, as palpable as the heat from the fireplace, only stoked her lust. “Better than I remembered,” he rasped, his mouth already moving against her for another taste.
And another and another until the flames blurred and her eyes stung with sweat and she couldn’t do anything more than knock the stupid hat aside so she could dig her fingers into all that thick, soft, messy hair. To hold him in place as she rose up to her tiptoes and pressed closer, crazed to feel each distinct stroke of his tongue into her most secret places. Over her clit, hard and fast, and lower, to tease open her entrance before he silkily slipped inside with a groan.
Or maybeshegroaned. It was so hard to tell. Her knees were in danger of buckling, and she was making noises now, she was almost sure, ones he coaxed from her with so little effort.
A single finger joined in with the assault from his tongue, and she was a goner. All it took was one deep thrust and she clamped around him as a cry tore from her throat. Her body flashed white-hot and colors burst behind her eyes, brighter than the flames in the hearth. She tried to shy away, to keep the experience manageable, but he wrapped his arms around her thighs and held her in place while he ravaged her, making the sort of sounds she would’ve been embarrassed about had she had any sense of herself left. There was just his lips and tongue, and then his teeth grazed her clit and sent her flying all over again.
She was still trembling a moment later. Hell, two moments later. He rose and circled her before brushing his wet mouth along her bare shoulder. A reminder of what she’d let him do.
What she’dbeggedhim to do, in a voice that had gone raw.
“You distract me so much that I forget myself.” His clothes rustled behind her and even knowing he was undressing made her have to grip the mantle for support. “I’ve always been so careful. But I can’t be with you. Even knowing you could ruin me.” His forehead dipped against her back and the puff of air against her spine made her nipples pucker that much tighter. “I almost want you to, because then I’d know it could be done. That I could want someone that much to risk everything. Even myself.” He gripped her hip and she realized he’d grabbed the pearls too. They dangled against her thigh, the long length of them smooth and seductive. “I want you to wear these, and only these.”
She nodded. Sometimes it was so easy to say yes to him. Other times were harder. But not now.
Not this.
She wanted to be clad in just what he’d picked out for her. What he’d examined with his eyes then his fingers, touching each individual bead the same way he would touch her. With infinite care, until the need grew to be too much. His, hers. They blended together and became indistinct. Indivisible.
He slipped the necklace over her head, and the sensation of the hand-warmed pearls falling against her skin was more erotic than anything she’d ever known. He slid the strand forward and they dipped into the valley between her breasts, but there were more, still more, flowing down her back. She started to turn her head, to tell him to wrap them a couple times, but he was drawing her arms up, pulling her wrists into the small of her back.
“May I?” His words ruffled her hair.
