Page 26 of Christmas in His Arms

She wrapped her arms around me, and I carried her, cradle style, to the front door where I gently set her down. Then I curled a stray strand of hair around her ear and let my cold hand linger on her cheek.

"Carrie, please don't do this. You don't have to move back here if you don't want. We can find a way to make it work. I promise." My heart felt like it was going to wither and die—full like it would explode, and weighty like a rock sinking into the abyss.

Carrie rose up on her tiptoes and kissed me softly. "I have to spend more time with my dad now, Ryan. I came home to help Mom, and I've spent all my time with you." This excuse atleast made sense, but it didn't clarify what the hell was actually happening between us or whether we had a future.

I wanted to argue with her and tell her she was giving up too soon, but she deserved someone who loved her and supported her, and my God, I loved her. I just couldn't tell her. I didn't want her to think I was manipulating her into changing her mind.

"If that's what you want…" I took a step back, but my heart was breaking. Her lower lip quivered, but she didn't turn away. Why did I have to feel this way? Why couldn't life just be easy now?

19

CARRIE

Ryan was so incredible, being patient with me and not pushing me to do anything I didn't want to. More and more, I was finding myself so connected to him, and I knew it wasn't good for me. I was having another man's baby, and he didn't want kids, and that obstacle, which was a huge one, wasn't even the worst. But he was too perfect to give up. I found myself in a damn yo-yo, wanting something I shouldn't want and knowing how bad it would turn out.

I did fully intend to spend more time with Dad. That epiphany that he'd only be around for so long hit me when I got the call that he was in the hospital again. But the truth was, I just didn't have the guts to tell Ryan about the baby. And I didn't want to cry the whole flight back to Chicago because my heart really wanted to stay with him. I couldn't live here. It was why I moved away to begin with.

"I should go inside," I told him, but I didn't move. I didn't want this to be the last time I saw him. I knew if I just told him the truth, he'd walk away. I also believed if I pulled back any more than I already had, he would just start telling Mom he was toobusy to help. We'd go back to life as normal, and Christmas would come and go, and I'd fly home.

Ryan didn't move, either. He stood facing me with pain in his eyes, but there was hope there too, like he was waiting for me to say something more, something that would ease his discomfort. We stared at each other for a few seconds, not moving, not speaking. Tears wanted to well up in my eyes, but I blinked them back, and then I hooked my pinky around his.

"If my being around you makes this town hate you, I'll never forgive myself, Ryan."

"I told you, the gossip doesn’t mean a thing to me."

I heard what he said, but I knew he was lying to protect me. I saw his reaction to Beth's comment firsthand. He was livid. It hurt him. He was defensive and moody, and it was my fault. I brought that upon him. And if he knew what hellfire awaited him when the town found out I was pregnant with another man's baby and sleeping with him, he wouldn't want anything to do with me. That angry reaction I witnessed the other day would be nothing compared to the anguish he might go through because of me.

"Carrie, please…" he said again, almost a whisper.

I couldn't take it. My heart ached to comfort him and feel comfort at the same time. I stepped closer again and rose up on my toes to place a soft kiss on his cheek, but he turned and caught my lips with his. It was pleasant and warm, and not at all the feral, wild intimacy we'd engaged in the last time we had sex.

He pulled back and looked into my eyes for a second as if asking permission, but I was numb, wanting him to kiss me again but knowing how much he'd hurt if people knew about me. I had to protect him, but I was selfish. I wanted him too much. I let himkiss me again, and his hand rested on my hip inside my coat. The kiss deepened until our arms were wrapped around each other and I was groping for the doorknob.

Ryan backed me over the threshold into the house and kicked the door shut. His hungry kisses had me breathless and panting, but I tore at his clothes, needing to feel his skin against mine. We stumbled in the living room, banging into the coffee table and knocking over a lamp. It fell to the floor, but we didn't care. We were a tangled mess of limbs and clothes, tasting each other like we'd been apart for years, not just days.

His lips blazed a trail of heat down my neck as he knelt in front of the couch, tugging at my jeans and panties. I shivered as his tongue licked along my thighs, up toward my center, sending shivers through me. "God, I want you," he mumbled against my core before he sucked on my clit. I groaned and arched my back as he explored me with his tongue and fingers. Sensations tore through me, heightened by the risk we were taking. Mom could have followed me right home, or she could be hours more. If she walked in, though…

My entire body tensed at the thought of being caught, but instead of deterring me, it only made me wetter. The forbidden nature of our tryst added a thrilling edge to the passionate encounter. I bit my lip to muffle a moan as Ryan's tongue continued its torturous dance on my aching flesh.

"Oh God, Ryan," I gasped, my hands fisting in the cushions of the couch as I sank and spread my legs. I couldn't believe we were doing this again, let alone in my parents’ house where my mother could walk in any second. The risk of being discovered added a delicious tension to the air that made every touch, every lick, feel more intense.

Ryan seemed to sense my mounting arousal, his ministrations becoming bolder and more insistent. He knew just how to make me beg for more, and tonight?with the risk of getting caught hanging over our heads?he didn't hold back. His tongue and fingers worked in tandem, sending me writhing on the well-worn leather of the couch, my nails digging in as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me.

"Ryan," I moaned, his name a broken whisper on my lips. "I'm… I'm…" Heat pooled between my legs, and my body tensed. I couldn't take much more of this exquisite torture. I spasmed and clenched, and he growled against my sex, only spurring me on until his thrusts slowed and his licks took over again.

He looked up at me with a cocky grin on his face, and I felt giddy as the endorphins rushed through my body. His eyes darkened as he slipped a third finger inside me, curling them just right. "Come for me again, Carrie," he growled against my core before sucking at my clit again. I twitched and jolted every time his tongue flicked over my clit. It was so sensitive.

“Oh, God,” I whimpered, tangling a hand in his wavy hair. He was relentless, and I was powerless to stop him. As he continued his passionate assault, I felt myself teetering on the edge once more.

"Ryan," I whimpered, my back arching as the intense sensations swept through me again. "Oh, God, I'm going to come again… I can't… I can't…" He only sped up his thrusts, and the room spun around me as my orgasm crashed over me in an unrelenting wave. My nails dug into his scalp as my hips bucked against his face, and my release tore through me like a freight train.

Rasping for air, I collapsed against the couch, my body a quivering mess. Ryan didn't stop, though. He continued to lavishme with attention, licking and nibbling at my sensitive folds until I was boneless.

"Ry… enough!" I gasped, pushing at his shoulder. "Please, that's… too much." A blush stained my cheeks as I remembered what he'd done last time we had been together. Biting my lip, I met his hungry gaze.

He slowly wiped his face with the back of his hand then tore off his shirt. As he stood and unbuckled his slacks and stepped out of his shoes, I touched myself gently. The powerful orgasms had left me limp, but my body still craved him inside me. My fingers swirled in the mess between my legs as he shed his pants and boxers, then stroked himself a few times before kneeling next to the couch.

This time, he didn’t even mention a condom. His length plunged into me until he was buried to his balls and I was arching off the couch whimpering. “Shit, you’re so wet,” he growled and captured my lips in a kiss again. He started moving slowly at first, distracted by the way he was tearing my sweater off over my head. And when I was braless and exposed to his greedy hands, his thrusts became more urgent.

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