Page 20 of Two Canes, One Cup
Not together.
He wraps his broad hand around the spindle for the rail. “So what’ll it be?” His voice drops into a sexy growl. “Are you getting up and getting dressed, or am I crawling in there and warming you up?”
Prim and proper Stacy would laugh nervously and put more clothes on.
But I’m hundreds of miles from ever seeing them again. When Christmas is over, we’ll all go our separate ways.
Do I want to remember this as a thrilling adventure? Or one where I do the ‘right’ thing?
Raising the edge of the thick comforter, I give him my best smile. “I want to stay in bed for a while longer.”
Am I crazy?
Probably.
His groan works its way into my belly as he climbs the rest of the way up.
Then his heavy coat falls to the floor at the same time as he toes off his boots.
“Scootch.” He lifts the quilt, sliding under quickly to drop it over him.
When his hot hand grabs my hip, he presses his body against mine.
“You’re cold,” I giggle, my voice quivering.
I’m so damn nervous, it could be a hundred degrees in here and I think my teeth would still chatter.
Working his way lower, his face levels with mine. “Let’s see if this helps.” Cupping my jaw, he tilts my chin to meet my lips with his.
He’s pine and leather with a hint of dark coffee. Yet gentle as a snowflake, brushing a tickle of whiskers against my chin.
“Better?” he whispers, moving the heat of his palm to the middle of my back.
“Mmhmm.” My fingers work through his short beard to drape behind his neck. It takes everything in me not to manically cackle at the insane turn of events.
His arm moves lower, curling behind my thigh to drape my leg over his. “You tell me if you want me to stop.”
Then his tongue finds the hollow below my ear sending a ricochet of static through my body.
This has to be a dream. I must be unconscious, frozen in a snowbank somewhere.
Because this feels too dang good to be real.
“Do you know the fastest way to warm up?” His breath scalds against my racing pulse.
My own hitches when I feel the tips of his fingers under the hem of my shirt.
“How?” I pant. I’m already lost in his touch.
“Skin to skin.” His husky voice follows his exploring mouth down my collar, leaving a trail of fire with every press.
“You made that up.” But it has me digging at the buttons on the front of his chest.
He raises up high enough for me to see his smile. “Scout’s honor.” With a grin, he crashes his lips to mine. His tongue razes my mouth, claiming it as his own.
Loosing a groan, he rolls his hips, digging his bulging crotch between my thighs.
“I mean, if it’s a rule. I don’t want to freeze to death.” My nails work through his short, curly hair, tugging him closer.
