Page 66 of A Holly Brown Christmas
“Um…no. And I’m being serious. I love this part of the day with you.”
“Climbing into bed?”
“Sort of,” she says with a sleepy smile. “Climbing in next to you.”
That softened something in him. He leaned down and kissed her slowly, like he was trying to tell her something he didn’t have the words for.
And he didn’t.
He was feeling things he’d never felt before and he didn’t know how to say them and was afraid of saying the wrong thing and messing everything up. So he poured everything he had into the kiss and savored the feel of her melting against him before they broke apart breathlessly.
They slipped into bed together, the sheets cool against their skin, their limbs instinctively finding each other. Holly tucked herself against his chest, her head on his shoulder, one hand pressed against his heartbeat.
Yeah, he loved this part of the day too.
Reaching over while trying not to move her, he shut off the lamp. In the darkness, the silence settled back in, comfortable and close. Except…
Bing Crosby was still singing.
Giggling, Holly squirmed out of his arms and got up to shut the music off, then settled back in beside him. “Sorry about that. It was nice having that on while we got ready for bed.”
After a few moments, Lucas spoke into the darkness. “You make everything feel like Christmas. Even this.”
Holly hummed in response, half-asleep already.
Then her hand opened and started to softly roam over his chest, over and over and over and then lower.
Maybe she isn’t half-asleep, he thought.
Beside him, she shifted until she was kissing his chest. His hands moved up into her hair and gently tugged to get her attention.
“I thought you were tired.”
“I am, but…like I said, I love being with you like this. You’re all warm and sexy, and I can’t seem to control myself when you’re this close. You don’t mind, do you?” she asked sweetly.
“Sweetheart, I will never complain about you finding me sexy and wanting to touch me. I just didn’t want you to feel like we had to do anything. I was perfectly content to just lie here and hold you.”
“I like that too,” she whispered. “But…” Pausing, she moved over him, straddling him. She was all warm, smooth limbs and without even thinking, his hands smoothed up her thighs and up under her shirt. “And I really like when you do that.”
His hands cupped her breasts. “Me too. But tomorrow…”
“Will take care of itself,” she told him, holding his hands to her breasts. “Right now, there’s nothing else in the entire world that matters. Just this. Just us.” She moved against him, and Lucas was more than willing to give her everything she wanted, as many times as she wanted.
They made love slowly; there was no reason to rush. They relished the act of being close—the tender kisses and whispered pleas. And when she cried out his name, Lucas felt like the luckiest man alive.
And later, when they had exhausted each other, he found that he truly enjoyed just holding her, even as she softly snored in his arms.
Outside, the snow continued to fall. Inside, they were lying all tangled in warmth and trust and love.
Love.
Yeah, that’s what this was.
And it was the kind of love that didn’t need grand gestures or perfect timing. Well, he might give her a grand gesture when this was all over. Actually, he was going to give her his heart, even though she had probably already taken it.
Eighteen
Everything was perfect!
