Page 61 of Rocky Mountain Cowboy Christmas
Steve kissed her, hard.
It was her turn to be taken off guard. She’d been so caught up in her chaotic thoughts that it took a moment to realize that his mouth was on hers, and he was kissing her with a ferocious intensity that laid every one of her worries to rest.
He did want her—badly. She could feel it in the tightness of his muscles and the almost frantic pressure of his kiss. When he slid his hands down her sides to grip her hips, yanking her against him, she could tell in another, more obvious way as well.
Then he lifted her, picking her off the ground with ease, his lips never leaving hers. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him closer. With his hands free, he roved over her back and down her thighs, exploring and possessing her at the same time.
Tangling her arms around his neck, she tightened her legs, once again overcome with the need to get as close as possible. She made a sound of protest when he pulled his mouth away, but the line of nibbling kisses down her throat more than made up for the loss of his lips on hers. Tilting her head back to give him better access, she moaned as heat built in her, fueled by his mouth on her neck and the press of their bodies.
As the sound reached her ears, a small, still-functioning corner of her brain couldn’t believe that needy, almost feral noise had come from her. She’d never thought that she’d feel the fiery, mind-stealing, overwhelming passion that she’d read about in books. She’d bounced between figuring that it was a made-up thing, something no real person ever experienced, and thinking it was reserved for a lucky few—a group that definitely would never include her.
She’d been so wrong. This was hers. The so-good-that-it-almost-hurt sensation of Steve lightly scoring her neck with his teeth before he soothed the spot with his tongue belonged to her—and so did he. A ferocious wave of hungry possession crashed over her, and she tightened her grip on him, needing to keep him there with her. She’d never been able to keep anyone she loved, but she was determined that she wouldn’t lose Steve. He was hers now, and she was never going to let go.
He tumbled her back onto a soft surface, and she realized that he’d been walking them into the moonlight-filled den as they kissed. She’d been so caught up in the feel of his lips and teeth and tongue on her skin that she hadn’t even noticed them moving. When Steve tried to pull back, she clung to him, and he gave a throaty chuckle that dialed her desire up even more.
“I’ll be right back,” he whispered, giving her a hard, needy kiss on the mouth. Reluctantly, she released him, watching through lust-dazed eyes from the sofa bed as he closed and locked the study door before turning on the light.
The kids, she remembered, glad that one of them had the presence of mind to not get down and dirty on the kitchen floor when his four children were sleeping upstairs. Instead of returning to her immediately, he moved to the heavy wood desk and rummaged in the very back of the bottom drawer.
Her mind was clearing of the fog his kisses had left her in, and she pushed herself up to get a better view. “What are you looking for?” she asked, trying to see around him to the contents of the drawer. It looked like it was filled with hanging file folders, and she couldn’t imagine what records or documents would help them at this particular moment.
In answer, Steve pulled out a small box and held it up triumphantly. “I knew I had some in there,” he said with satisfaction, tossing the container to her as he shut the drawer with his foot. She fumbled the unexpected catch, and the box landed in her lap. When she saw what it was, she gave a laughing snort, which she immediately regretted. Snorting wasn’t going to fuel Steve’s lust for her. But still, who kept condoms in with their files?
“Is this for when you get randy with your accountant?” she teased, and another unfortunate snort slipped out before she could stop it. She mentally scolded herself, both for the pig noises and for mentioning his accountant—and the wordrandy. If he became completely turned off and left her hanging, she’d have no one to blame but herself.
He laughed, but it had a rough edge to it. Lifting her up, he tossed her farther back on the bed, and she bit back a surprised squeal. She found it shockingly arousing how easily he picked her up, her weight barely straining the muscles of his solid arms and chest. It wasn’t just his physical strength that made him so attractive, but also his ability to deal with the crises and day-to-day drama of the ranch and his kids and the fire department with a steady, unruffled calm.
“No. Richard isn’t my type. I just figured it’s the one spot where the kids wouldn’t stumble over them.”
“You don’t want them to know that their dad has sex?” she asked, honestly curious. She’d never considered the issues of dating as a single parent until she’d gotten to know Steve and his family.
He gave a wry grimace. “More that I’d come home to find a bunch of condoms blown up like balloons.”
The mental image made her laugh, although it didn’t seem quite accurate. “Balloons? No. With your kids, you’d be more likely to come home to find they’d been incorporated into an art project or used to fix a fan belt or something.”
He chuckled even as he cringed. “That’s unnervingly accurate.” When he picked up the box and looked at the side, Camille snickered.
“Reading the directions?” she asked innocently.
With a mock-snarl, he dropped the box on the bed and pounced. Straddling her hips with his knees, he began tickling her, making her giggle and squirm beneath him. “No, smarty-pants.” He paused, looking a little sheepish. “I’m checking the expiration date. It’s…” He cleared his throat. “It’s been a while. Not to, ah, bring down the mood, but after Karen died, I was focused on the kids. Even after some time passed, I didn’t want to bring anyone into their lives who’d leave them. They’d had enough loss. Keeping things separate doesn’t really work that well, so it became easier just to…do without.” He gave her a quick, almost bashful glance. “Until you. I don’t want to do without you.”
Her amusement slipped away as she looked up at him. “I’m so glad.”
“Me, too.”
They exchanged a smile as heat started building in Steve’s gaze again. Camille’s breath caught in her chest as he slowly lowered his upper body toward hers, his biceps bulging with the effort of holding his weight. She wasn’t sure where to look; every part of him was so entrancing. Her gaze moved from his arms to his chest to his parted lips—lingering there for an extra beat—to his square, stubbled jaw to his eyes. Although she enjoyed looking at each part of him, his heavy-lidded eyes were her favorite, since they expressed so clearly how irresistible he found her to be.
Then his lips were on hers again, and she was lost, reveling in the feel of him—his exploring mouth and his weight pressing her down into the mattress and his hands finding all the spots that she didn’t even know were sensitive until now. They kissed for what felt like hours, until her arousal had built to the point that she felt like she’d go up in flames if she couldn’t feel his skin against hers.
She yanked up his shirt, wanting it gone and not willing to wait until he’d unfastened all the buttons. He jerked it over his head, oblivious to the pop of buttons flying off and even the rip of a seam giving way. His T-shirt came off even faster, and then Camille was faced with the most beautiful chest she’d ever seen. She could hardly believe it was hers to explore.
She ran her hands over him, feeling the wiry layer of hair and the silk of his skin over hard muscle, clenching and releasing under her touch. His audible inhales and groans as she found a sensitive spot made her feel powerful, and she especially liked the way he reacted when she kissed his breastbone. As she ran her tongue over a flat nipple, he hissed, his back arching at the sensation.
It was as if he couldn’t take any more of her explorations. His mouth found hers again with an extra edge of frantic desperation, kissing and licking and nipping at her equally needy lips. They yanked and pulled and sometimes even tore until they were both completely free of their clothes.
The first time Steve’s naked body pressed full-length against hers was branded into her head, and she knew she’d remember even the most minor details of that moment for the rest of her life. From the way his breath caught and he went rigid against her, she knew that he felt the same way.
After a perfect, frozen moment, they both snapped back into action. Camille needed more—more of his mouth on hers and more of his hands on her skin. Their kisses grew wilder and their touches bolder, their explorations of each other gaining more and more of a desperately needy edge.
