Kiss Me on This Cold December Night:. Charlotte Phillips

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Kiss Me on This Cold December Night: - Charlotte  Phillips

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big deal? It’s not like we haven’t been here before.’

      And of course he had a point. Any reservations had been discarded five years ago. They’d been intimate on such an intense level that maybe it was really no leap at all to pick up where they’d left off all that time ago.

      She drew in a breath, ready to list all the reasons why, actually, it was a big deal. How it would be a regression, how it couldn’t possibly end well, and then he stopped all planned protestations with a kiss. His hand slid back from her jaw to cradle the nape of her neck, his tongue slipped softly against hers and her stomach dissolved like melting toffee.

      His hand slipped to her bare thigh, began stroking its way higher. Her mind followed it, inch by slow inch, although her eyes were tightly shut. He reached the delicate skin of her inner thighs and then his fingertips teased their way beneath the edge of her bikini bottoms. She gasped into his mouth as he slid two fingers inside her in one smooth movement and she felt him smile.

      ‘Tell me again, why this is a bad idea,’ he whispered, the ball of his thumb now beginning to circle her most sensitive spot, while his fingers continuing their slow rhythmic grind in and out. The sweet friction made her feel weak. Reasons jumbled into a mess of words in her mind.

      ‘I don’t do second-time-rounds,’ she managed. ‘Of anything. It’s kind of like a personal rule of mine.’

      ‘Still living in the moment then?’ he said, holding her gaze. ‘You haven’t changed.’ He smiled, moved his lips to her ear. ‘No one around but us,’ he whispered. ‘I could have you right now and no one would see.’

      The recklessness of it all had its own seductiveness, it took her straight back to the last time they were together. At the time, her own situation had been what drove her, the need to escape from the yawning absence of family and love that Christmas had been throwing at her from every angle. He had been the perfect distraction, a reason to disengage from everything that was going on around her.

      No such excuse this time. In fact, all sense of rationality warned her off. Yet still there was the voice in her mind breaking through, reasoning with her, working with that physical desire for him. Where, really was the risk? He’d be gone in a couple of days, maybe even sooner. She would return to her life again just as she had before, unscathed. Couldn’t she just step back into that moment again, enjoy a rerun of the delicious past encounter?

      She let her own hand slide over his hot, damp skin, over hard muscle. He caught her fingers in his free hand as she reached his shorts. Her hand was drawn away and held still while he continued to stroke her, adding a third finger, increasing his pace, stretching and teasing until she could think of nothing else but the sensation. The steam room was forgotten, hotel was forgotten, self-preserving life rules were forgotten and she cried out against his neck as he took her over that delicious edge.

      As consciousness began to slip back she realised shadows were moving outside the glass door, the heat was intense now and they were both dripping sweat. He withdrew his hand, not rushing, just as the door clicked open and a middle-aged couple took the bench opposite, vague outlines in the steamy air. She kept her head down as if they might by some super power know what they’d just been doing in here, stood up and tugged him by the hand out of the steam room and immediately turned left into the circular aromatherapy shower. He curled his arms around her waist, pulling her hot skin against his and she forced herself to STOP THIS RIGHT NOW. Her body might have been conquered by the heady combination of hot steam and his intoxicatingly expert touch but her mind still just about had a handle on reality.

      ‘What now then?’ he said, his voice was thick and she could feel his rigid erection hard against her. ‘We could go up to my suite.’

      The way they had five years ago? She’d been there, done that and moved on.

      ‘I don’t think so,’ she said, disentangling herself.

      ‘Really?’

      ‘It’s just not a good idea.’

      He looked down at her, grin creasing the corners of his grey eyes.

      ‘You’re actually going to leave me hanging like this?’ He glanced downwards.

      She gave him a sweet smile.

      ‘Of course I’m not, let me just fix that for you.’

      She pressed the button labelled COLD and pushed him into the shower well.

       CHAPTER THREE

      He caught up with her by the exit, as she walked through the spa bar, cheeks still pink as she attempted to pull off a swift exit.

      ‘Dinner?’ he said, clearly not remotely put off by the cold shower.

      She carried on walking, heading back through to the lobby while her heart made a mad sprint. Even without their history, he was asking her to dinner, and there was that niggling little question of when she’d last been asked out. Two years was it now? Liz would know, she was always trying to pressgang her into dates she didn’t want. But her heart could sprint as much as it pleased, there were rules to be adhered to here, rules that she lived by for very good reasons and Tom Henley was a clear-cut case.

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