Christmas in His Bed: Talking in Your Sleep... / Unwrapped / Kiss & Tell

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, the lights,” Rafe declared.

She looked over at the tree. Staring at it, she could almost imagine snow outside. The image evoked memories and emotions she’d thought were gone, and she wrapped her arms around her middle, shivering.

“Are you okay?” Rafe asked.

“Yes, I’m fine…. I forgot how pretty the trees are.”

“They are pretty. I can’t imagine Christmas without one.”

“I used to have some favorite decorations—they’re probably still up in the attic at Dad’s.”

Rafe was gazing at her with such warmth, concern and understanding that she had to glance away as he spoke. It was as if he knew what was going on inside of her clearer than she did, and she didn’t know how she felt about that.

“You ever go back?”

“Not for a while. He remarried last year. He’s happier than he has been since I can remember. I think Lois has been good for him, and I know she’s insisting he celebrate Christmas. I’m glad for him.”

“That’s good. What about you? Don’t you want to be happy, too?”

She didn’t say anything, his words landing home. She looked at the tree again, picking up a string of lights.

“I don’t know. I figured if I made the right choices, did the right things, worked hard, then I would be happy. It doesn’t seem to always end up that way, does it?”

“Maybe they weren’t all the right choices.”

She blew out a breath. “Could be,” she hedged. “I think we’d better get back to decorating this tree.”

He smiled, taking the string of lights. “You’re the boss.”

Somehow, with Rafe, who had blustered into her life, had her decorating trees and walking around her house naked, among other things, she doubted that, but wasn’t about to argue.

They worked in concert, placing the lights, then moved on to the ornaments. Rafe had bought enough for two Christmas trees, and they’d be lucky if this one didn’t topple over once they were done. She was enjoying herself more than she’d anticipated.

“Help. I can’t quite reach this branch,” she said, stretching to hang a heavy Santa ornament on a thick, stubby branch close to the top. Rafe stepped behind her, slipping a hand around her waist and snuggling close as he took the ornament and hung it from the branch she’d been targeting. She almost dropped the damned ornament, raw desire making her knees weak.

He didn’t move away when he was done hanging the decoration, but instead wrapped both hands around her front, his hands doing wicked things to her breasts as he kissed the back of her neck. She leaned against him, the hardness of his cock slipping into the pocket of heat between her thighs as she issued an unmistakable invitation for what she wanted him to do, right now, right there, standing by the Christmas tree. He didn’t do anything more than continue to kiss and rub, shifting back and forth with a gentle friction that had them both panting with need.

“Rafe,” she said breathlessly, reaching up to touch his face, “let’s go upstairs. We’ll finish the tree later.”

He murmured his agreement, then suddenly the doorbell rang, yanking her out of the spell with a groan.

“Ignore it,” she said.

“It’s the food,” he said, pulling on his jeans and grabbing his wallet. “Just take a sec. I’m starving,” he added, dragging his eyes down her form as he said it.

They hadn’t had dinner, though she wasn’t hungry for anything but more of what Rafe was doing to her body. When he went to the door, she made sure she was out of eyesight, and shivered, missing his heat.

After he set the food on the table, he turned her around in his arms and took her mouth in a kiss so carnal her toes curled into the carpet, and she thought hazily that she might never wear clothes around her house again.

His tongue stroked hers repeatedly before sucking her into his mouth, tasting her deeply, touching her as she wanted him to touch her elsewhere. She’d never, ever, in her life been this turned on by a man’s touch. She had a hard time coming, yes, but she was damned near the edge from what he was doing to her mouth, and she wanted more, saying as much when he released her from the kiss.

“We will … after the tree is done. Then we can have some dinner and admire it.”

“I don’t want to wait,” she pleaded, her frustration reaching a fevered pitch. He kissed her again, and her body fit itself to his.

“Just a little longer. Don’t be so bossy,” he teased, kissing her nose before stepping away to reach for the last few ornaments. Joy wanted to scream but helped him nonetheless, placing the last ones much less thoughtfully than she had at first.

She was hot all over and craving whatever relief Rafe could offer. She’d never been this aroused in her entire life, and while it was all good, she was simultaneously afraid of losing the buzz, as if too much teasing would backfire, like overinflating a balloon and having it burst.

One look at Rafe’s very aroused body and she knew her fears were probably baseless. This horny phase she was in wasn’t likely to pass until she had him—maybe repeatedly.

PAM WOKE UP SUDDENLY, jerking her head from the desk with a cramp in her neck. Papers she’d been working on were plastered to her cheek. She peeled them off, casting a glance at the clock—it was 11:00 p.m. Another night on the cot in the back. She had to finish working on the budget first, though. Maybe if she crunched the numbers again, she’d find a way to squeeze more out of them.

Even with Joy’s help, they would barely be able to afford the kind of party they were trying to give, and every cent counted—it was a last-ditch effort at keeping Second Chance open, outside of taking a loan that Pam had no idea how she’d ever pay back. She hadn’t told the current residents what was going on, and didn’t intend to, not until it was absolutely necessary.

If the worst happened, she’d already been in contact with some other shelters, and she would make sure her people had places to go. The problem was that the other places offered lodging, but they didn’t necessarily offer as much support to get people started in new lives, new jobs, with a new sense of self.

Second Chance was about giving people a step up, not just a place to stay. She’d put everything in her life for the last fifteen years into building this place, and her vision had worked. She wasn’t going to lose it without a fight.

The determination to fight was good—it was what she needed to keep herself from thinking about how much she missed Ted. They’d talked a few times on the phone, but the conversations had been stilted and touchy. She was hurt, so was he.

They weren’t sure how to approach each other anymore, and she hated it—they’d been comfortable around each other since day one, and now it felt as if there were a huge wall between them. All she wanted was his touch, his kiss, and to be able to lean on him right now, but it wasn’t possible.

Well, she’d stood on her own before, and she would now. Her thoughts drifted to her parents, and if she were honest, she’d been tempted to ask them to bail her out. They might do it, but then there would be strings, and she couldn’t deal with that. They’d never give her the money without conditions, and that was why she’d never asked. They were good people, basically, but they had a different set of values, and they’d always wanted something different for her than what she wanted for herself.

As she turned her bleary eyes back to the pages spread all over the desk, she jumped when there was a soft knock at the office door. She got up—everyone was usually in their room by now, but someone must have noticed her light on.

As she opened the door, her heart plunged. Ted’s large form filled the doorway.

“What are you doing here?” was the first thing out of her mouth, and when she saw him flinch, she instantly regretted her harsh welcome.

“I miss you,” he said, his tone raw, matching the emotion in his eyes. “I know I screwed up. I want to make it better, I want us to make it better, Pam. Whatever it takes.”

She stepped away, hearing what he was saying, but taken aback by the unexpectedness of it. He looked exhausted, haggard, even in his new suit. He must have come directly from the office. Still, she couldn’t deny the happiness that surged inside of her. Maybe the wall between them was crumbling somewhat; maybe there was hope.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. I’m tired, and I was just startled to see you so late. I’ve missed you, too,” she admitted, closing the door behind him. “I was going over the budgets.”

“Are things okay?”

“No,” she said honestly, and she hoped without blame. “It’s going to be tighter than tight, but we’re throwing everything into a Christmas fund-raiser. We’re hoping to turn attitudes around, get things back on track. If not, we won’t make it long past the new year, unless I take a loan, but I don’t know how the hell I would pay it off if I did. Douglas caused some damage, and Martin didn’t exactly help—both of them were more than eager to talk to people around them, and of course they made it all sound so … bad.”

He met her gaze, his own lighting with determination. “Let me help. I’m doing okay now, I’ll get a raise soon—take the loan you were considering. I can shoulder the payments until you get back on your feet.”

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