Christmas in His Bed: Talking in Your Sleep... / Unwrapped / Kiss & Tell. Carrie Alexander
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“I don’t think either of us will hold out for long,” she panted. Her clothes gone, she could finally glory in the touch of his lips and hands on her skin. He scraped his beard-roughened cheek against the side of her breast, and she loved it. She wound her hand around the back of his neck, urging him on.
She’d never had sex on her living-room floor—or any floor—before. Lame, but true.
“Hey, what about you?” she asked since he hadn’t taken off anything but his shirt.
“There’s time…. I want to explore you first,” he murmured against her skin, and she moaned when he ran his hand up her leg. Suddenly her mind clicked in again, making her feel too exposed, too much at a disadvantage.
“You could undress, too,” she suggested, but when he looked up at her, shaking his head, the hot intentions in his gaze shut her up.
“I don’t want to be tempted to go too far. You tempt me, Joy, to the edge of reason. Just lay back, relax … Let me enjoy you … and I want you to enjoy me doing it. I want to show you how much passion you really have,” he said gently.
“Oh!” she gasped as his mouth traced a path from her navel down to the slick opening between her legs and back again; every muscle in her body clenching in exquisite expectation.
“You fine with that?” he checked. He did it again, and she could only moan out her agreement.
It was so fine that she widened her thighs, inviting him in. The uncomfortable sensation of exposure had passed, replaced with need.
One delicious lick of his tongue on the oversensitized flesh of her sex had her shuddering. She focused on the sensations as he deepened the intimate kiss, stroking his fingers over her skin, urging her along.
She was more than willing to comply, and wiggled a little. She was even so daring as to raise her hands to her breasts, touching herself. He must have noticed and muttered his approval as he brought her closer and closer to the edge. Yet a part of her still held back. Whatever he wanted her to give, she didn’t seem to be able to do it. She was having a hell of a lot of fun, but was unable to release the tightly coiled tension.
Then Rafe withdrew his hot touch and began trailing kisses down her thighs, then back up, bringing himself beside her. He gathered her against him, but she pushed back.
“Rafe?”
He put his lips to hers, the taste and scent of her own essence mingled into the kiss, and a wave of excitement washed over her. She clenched her thighs together, hiding her face in his shoulder, unabashed and yet embarrassed by her own raw neediness.
“I—I want more, Rafe,” she begged, planting kisses from the column of his neck to his shoulder, pressing herself into him wantonly. He was still erect, still excited; the heat emanating from his skin was more than she thought a human being could generate.
“I know. Me, too. Now isn’t the time.”
She looked down over her naked, aroused body. “You stopped because I tensed up,” she whispered, dismay replacing her arousal.
He got to his feet, putting his hand out to help her up.
“Yes—because I want you to enjoy it. We have plenty of time. That was nice, and we’ll pick up where we left off, don’t worry,” he promised with a wicked smile. Confused, she reached for her clothes.
“Wait. Don’t get dressed,” he ordered.
“Why not? It’s obvious you don’t plan on getting undressed,” she said grumpily.
“Don’t worry, I will … but we’re going to have a little fun first—remember, foreplay all day? No need to rush. We can draw it out, see how long we can last.”
“Yeah?” she said, annoyed, but halted with her shirt in her hands, not putting it on. “So what did you have in mind?”
“It’s almost Christmas. I brought you a Christmas tree. The traditional thing to do is decorate it.”
She’d forgotten about the tree. She hadn’t had a tree since she was a child; she didn’t have any decorations, even.
Then she spotted the bags on the floor.
Rafe went over to them, and she forgot about the tree again, watching the lovely interplay of muscles along his back, butt and legs, as he moved. She was definitely experiencing some passion.
In a flash, he lost his own clothes. “Naked Christmas-tree decorating,” he turned to her and said with a sly grin.
“I don’t think so,” she said, grabbing at her shirt again. “There’s sap. Those needles are sharp.”
“Nope, I thought of that already. This is a Fraser fir, very soft to the touch. We’re completely safe. As for sap, well, that shouldn’t be a problem if we’re careful, but if you get sticky, I’ll wash you off,” he said flirtatiously, and she rolled her eyes.
He stood assessing the room, a glint of excitement in his eyes, his hands planted on his hips. She was speechless—this was surely the oddest day of her entire life.
“We can close the curtains while we’re decorating.”
Joy didn’t really care about the tree, but she watched his naked form with great interest. He had a beautiful, sculpted backside, and his front, well, she knew how nice that was. He was still semihard as he pulled boxes from the bags without an ounce of self-consciousness. To avoid standing there like a moron, she joined him in the task.
He smiled up at her and she was unexpectedly moved.
“That’s the spirit,” he said agreeably. “I got all types of decorations. I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”
“Thank you. I’ll pay you back,” she said, unsure what else to say, but his hands froze over his task.
“That’s not the point, Joy,” he said quietly, and she knew she’d stuck her foot in it. “It’s a gift.”
“Oh, I mean, I didn’t mean … Shit,” she said, dropping to sit on the sofa. Her body was still throbbing from his abridged seduction, and her brain was on overload trying to process the things happening to her. Now here she sat, naked in her living room with Rafe and a Christmas tree. Freakishly, she didn’t seem to care as much about her job at the moment. Was she in denial? Shock?
“Joy?”
“Hmm?” She didn’t look up.
“Relax. Unpack the decorations, we’ll decorate it, and see what happens. Maybe you’ll have fun. Stop thinking it to death.”
She sighed heavily into her hands. “Okay. Okay, you’re right. Old habits are hard to break. None of this is normal to me.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing, right?”
“I suppose.”
She rooted through the bags and pulled out boxes of lights and decorations.
“First,