Christmas Male (16 page)

Maggie's lips felt shivery in anticipation, breathless as she watched Miles's eyes turn completely black, so intense her womb contracted, sending pleasurable little tremors through her entire body. She really should pull away, or at least put up a hand to stop him, but did she? No. Because she wanted his kiss. She wanted to know what it would be like to be wholly kissed—possessed—the way she instinctively knew only Miles could do.

Call her curious, that was why she tipped her head up a little, parted her lips just a bit in preparation. She tried to summon up pieces of information that Callie had given her about kissing, but she couldn't seem to gather her thoughts enough to remember a single thing. Her breath caught as Miles lowered his mouth to hers.

That first instant of contact was hot, firm, melting. Wow, he knew what he was doing. His mouth claimed hers completely. His lips gathered hers up to nibble, suck and then pull back and away. The caress left a soothing but exciting sensation blazing across her lips that made her sigh, that made her want more.

Much more. She reached up to grab him by the arms and haul him back to her when he descended again, pressing another kiss along the bottom curve of her mouth. He nibbled her upper lip ever so gently, dazzling her so much that she hardly realized he'd gathered her in his arm and was pulling her closer. She relaxed against the iron wall of his chest, excitement trilling through her like a song.

Yes, this is what she'd always wanted to know. Real passion, the kind with gentleness at its core, the kind that overthrew sense and the ordinary. She wrapped her arms around him, holding on tight as he kissed her again, his hands sweeping up her back, trapping her against him. The tip of his tongue swept over hers in a tantalizing caress. So tantalizing, her bones melted completely away and she would have sagged straight to the ground if his arms hadn't been holding her up. She clung to him, breathing hard and fast, her blood tripping in her veins at an alarming rate. He took his time, nibbling along her bottom lip before finally drawing it into his mouth.

Yes,
she thought, feeling her body soften and swell, wanting, just wanting. This is what she'd been missing out on, this is what she wanted. Tenderness brimmed her heart as Miles released her lip and eased away, gasping for air, gazing down into her eyes. In those dark depths, she saw the same longing she felt. The same need.

"We really should stop." He winced as he said those words, his mouth swollen from their kissing. But he didn't move away, he kept her wrapped in his arms, trapped against his chest.

"Yes," she agreed, knowing her common sense was there somewhere, likely buried beneath the thrumming excitement building low in her abdomen. "Stopping would be the sensible thing."

"Right." A muscle twitched in his jaw. His gaze bore into hers so intimately it was as if she stood exposed and naked before him. His hands stroked down her spine, tracing along the small of her back to settle on her rump.

To her surprise, he hauled her even closer, bringing her pelvis flush to his. The hard length and thickness of his arousal nestled against the lower curve of her belly, tantalizing even through the layers of clothing and their winter coats. She bit her bottom lip to hold back a moan. Inside, her muscles fisted in an unexpected, exhilarating throb.

"Maggie." He rasped out her name, raw with emotion and need. "I—"

The crack of a branch breaking resounded through the forest, startling her. She jumped, her sense returning, aware now of the chill of the snow radiating up from the ground, of the wind on the back of her neck and the unmistakable patter of footsteps nearby, running away. She felt a charge cannon through Miles, his muscles tensed, his jaw hardened and he turned protective. The tender moment between them was gone.

"We'd better get back to Big Jack." He shook his head, let out a troubled sigh, as if he couldn’t believe he'd forgotten his horse. "There are cougars around here."

"But that wasn't a cougar we heard," she said, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice as she took a step, following as he wound his way around the tree and headed back out into the open road. Jack waited for them, ears up and eyes bright, as if greatly curious over what had been going on in the woods.

"No, it wasn't a cougar," Miles agreed severely, taking up his shovel. "Wild animals don't wear shoes, but the neighbors do. Gossip travels fast in this town too, so be prepared when we get you to the depot."

He didn't look at her while he worked, and she stood there, shivering in the cold. Her overheated body felt aching, especially in private places and in ways she'd never felt before. She watched him shovel intently, not acknowledging what had happened between them. Disappointed, she turned away and climbed the enormous drift, intending to keep Big Jack company, but her heart felt pinched and empty. She needed Miles. She wanted him. What was she going to do about that?

He shouldn't have kissed her, that much was clear. Miles ground his molars together as he tossed the shovel onto the back of the sleigh. His senses had been scrambled ever since his lips first touched hers—hell, to be honest, they'd been scrambled before that. The woman twisted him up, turned him inside out and (even worse), he found himself in need of a drink. A big one. Again.

He rolled his eyes, fearing he was about to turn into one of the Collins brothers. One glance at the woman seated in the sleigh made his pulse fire like a cannon. She sat there with her hood up, so ladylike and quiet that you would never guess she'd been plastered all over him twenty minutes before, kissing him eagerly. Or maybe it was more accurate to say she'd been plastered against him because he'd dragged her there and didn't want to let her go. Come to think of it, maybe he never would have released her if that branch breaking hadn't interrupted them. Sweat broke out on his forehead thinking about what could have happened—what his body had been ready to have happen. Hell, he still wanted it.

Biting back a curse, he marched alongside the sleigh, threw back the buffalo robes just enough to settle on the seat and drew them back over him again. He was half-frozen, but that didn't register, not compared to the heated charge he felt from simply sitting beside her. They weren't even touching and his blood reacted, thickening in his veins. As he reached for the reins and gave them a snap, he grimaced, shaking his head at himself. Thanks to his lack of self-control, he now had another image (that kiss) and all the sensations that went with it to haunt him on the drive to town. As if he didn't have enough worry with the boot prints he'd spotted on the road. He drew Big Jack to a stop to take a better look at them.

"What was someone doing way out here?" she asked, rising up to get a better view. "And why was someone walking down the road in this weather? It's too cold to walk for very far."

"Likely it was one of the Collins brothers. Sometimes their horse wanders off because they forget to latch the gate or tie it up." He squinted, straining to follow the line of tracks in the shadowed, forest-lined lane.

That blasted Chester Collins. He'd better not have been trying to get another peep at Maggie. Miles felt his guts harden into an angry, protective fist. First last night's intrusion, and now this.

He frowned, snapping the reins to send Big Jack into a fast walk. Maggie settled back against the seat, biting her bottom lip, drawing his gaze. Hell, he couldn’t stop looking at her mouth now that he'd known the perfect way those lips fit against his. And the passion there—

That's not helping, he reminded himself sternly. His hand ached, reminding him of the man he'd punched out last night. He may have to do it again.

"You're not thinking of hitting poor Chester again, are you?" She cut a sideways glance at him. "That man is too drunk to be a real menace."

"You don't mind that he saw you naked?" A muscle jumped in Miles's jaw.

"If I remember right, you did too." She drew the buffalo robe up closer to her chin. "Besides, I'm leaving town, and likely he was too drunk to remember anything clearly."

"But I wasn't." He arched a brow, making her laugh.

"I'm not worried about you." She let out a laugh, shaking her head, noticing the clouds gathering overhead to blot out the sun. "I think my secret is safe with you."

"Yes, but you could be wrong." He almost smiled again.

Truly, she'd never felt so safe with anyone before and her head was so muddled from the aftereffects of their kiss, that it was a wonder she could think straight enough to carry on a conversation. Her mouth remembered every delicious, scintillating sensation of his lips, every caress, every nibble, every little suck. And his hands strong and commanding as they moved up and then down her spine, of how he'd hauled her against him with such need...oh, she melted a little inside, her womb fisting again.

Yep, this was exactly the kind of experience she'd come here to Pine Haven to find, except there was one problem. Miles wasn't looking for a wife. And she was looking for
everything.

Since the wind was pummeling her face, icing her up, she drew her scarf up over her face, covering everything but her eyes. She hauled up her hood, trying to conserve her body's warmth. The heated irons on the floorboards helped, but they'd cooled off some during the time Miles had been shoveling Big Jack out of the drift, (not to mention the snowball fight and the kiss). It was tough, but she resisted the urge to inch closer to him on the seat and soak up some of his heat.

Considering the new, primal, almost wild feelings their kiss had awakened in her, it was wise (very wise) to sit all by herself on the edge of the seat watching the majestic views roll by. The disappearing sun glazed the peaks and slopes of the close-up mountains. Evergreen forests tried to shrug off their mantles of snow, branches undulating in the wind. And beside her, Miles said nothing more, sitting as still as stone, staring straight ahead at the winding road as if nothing untoward had happened.

But her heart could not stop strumming. She snuggled deeper into the buffalo robes, remembering all the amazing and shocking information Callie had told her about lovemaking—the thrilling touches, the hard thickness and length of a man's thing (she really had been terribly curious about that) and how it felt to have a man's weight holding you down, his arms wrapped around you, his hardness seeking entrance. Maggie tilted her head to one side, thinking things over. As much as Callie had shared, she'd also left a lot out. And Maggie had questions because she was unable to stop thinking about Miles in
that
way.

What would it be like to have his hot, demanding mouth on other parts of her, aside from just her lips? Her breath hitched, imagining hot little nips and sucks trailing down her throat, over her breasts— Whew! She squirmed a little, feeling suddenly much warmer. Why, she hardly felt the freezing winds at all, just a carnal hunger moving through her, hot and melted, like heated maple syrup oozing everywhere. Aroused, she cut her gaze sideways to study him. His jaw was rigid, his face as set as iron. He'd left his scarf down around his neck and he had to be freezing, but then again, he seemed so remote, as stoic as granite mountains, a man who couldn't feel anything.

With a sigh, she focused her gaze ahead of them and realized the town's main street spread out before her. A few horses and sleds were parked at hitching posts outside the raised and covered boardwalks. Lantern light shone through store windows, offering refuge from the inclement morning.

"Hello, Miss Maggie!" A friendly voice called out—-grandfatherly Bill, from the train station. He had a steaming cup of coffee in hand, as if he'd snuck over to the mercantile for a break. His handlebar mustache gave his weathered face a friendly look as his wise eyes sparkled a greeting. "I hear my grandson stopped by your place, but you turned him down."

"His offer to come courting surprised me," she explained, leaving out the important detail that she'd hesitated on saying yes for one reason—and that reason was seated right beside her. "Besides, I'm leaving today on the next train."

"The eastbound train is still snowed in, so it may be a wait. Besides, I told Rick to be persistent." Bill hiked down the steps to the street. "Give me your address and I'll have him send you a letter. Now, keep in mind he's a fine young lad and he's the crew supervisor. He makes a fine living working for the railroad. He could take good care of you, and he'd be lucky to have you."

"You're sweet, Bill," she told him with a wink, very, very fond of the man. "It's too bad you aren't forty years younger."

"Don't I know it!" Bill winked, blushing happily at her compliment as he ambled away, his boots making crunching and squeaking noises in the hard-packed snow.

Beside her, Miles glowered, no longer stoic. He angled his big frame out from beneath the buffalo robes and pounded across the snow to tie up his horse. Big Jack watched him innocently, looking confused about why his master was in such a bad mood.

Curious. Maggie swung off the edge of the seat. Miles had been in the same exact mood this morning when Bill's grandson had knocked at the door. Realization sunk in as she set her feet on the ground. The snow was icy, so she held the sleigh's frame firmly as she stood. Miles wasn't jealous, was he?