I'll Be Yours for Christmas (8 page)

A
BBY WRENCHED UPWARD,
an unfamiliar noise pulling her out of a restless dream.

The thud sounded again, and she sat up, hand to her slamming heart. Looking at the clock, she saw it was two-thirty in the morning. She'd only been sleeping for a few hours. Living alone for several years now had fine-tuned her senses to any noise in the house at night, and she listened closer.

She didn't need to wonder if she had imagined it when it was followed by a large crash, and glass breaking. She leapt from the bed, opening her door to peek down the hall toward Reece's room, but didn't see him. Had he slept through the noise? Heard it at all?

Moving on tiptoe down the hall, she stopped by his door, lifting her hand, then pausing. She couldn't knock if there was an intruder downstairs, they might hear.

She pushed Reece's door open just slightly, poking her head into the dark room.

“Reece?” she whispered as loudly as she dared.

A loud shout met her whisper, making her jump out of her skin, but also launching her inside the room and
closing the door behind her. She saw immediately that the noise she'd heard hadn't been from an intruder, but from Reece, who had knocked the hurricane lamp off of his nightstand. He still appeared to be sleeping, and not well.

Venturing toward the bed, she bit her lip in concern.

“Reece, are you okay?”

He twisted in the sheets, as if trying to push them off, though he couldn't. He was murmuring, then shouting again, then whimpering in a way that told her he was in some kind of pain—or dreaming about it. She rushed to the side of the bed and put a calming hand on his shoulder, saying his name again, only to have him wrench away. He started saying things, his tone low and business-like, something with numbers and other mumbled words she couldn't understand.

Silver light shone through the window, and she could see his face was contorted in the agony of his dream and didn't know what to do. Then her eye caught sight of a small bottle on the dresser. She picked it up and held it close to the window—sleep aids. Those would knock him out and she probably didn't stand much chance of waking him up, she figured.

Still, she couldn't just leave him here like this, even if it was just a dream. Scooting into the empty space next to him, Abby knew she was playing with fire—especially when she realized he wasn't wearing anything but his briefs.

“God help me,” she muttered, but settled down next to him and cuddled up behind, hoping to offer some
kind of comfort. Maybe she could not let him be alone through the worst of it and then go back to her room.

Reece would never know. She rubbed his back with her palm, hoping to soothe, and after a few minutes, he did seem to quiet down. Her own body relaxed and her breathing returned to almost normal. Except that she was laying here in bed with a mostly naked, absolutely gorgeous man—still, she focused on just helping him back into a restful place.

Soon, his breathing evened, the mumbling stopped and his tight muscles softened under her hands.

“That's better,” she said, intending to go back to her own room, but she was warm, comfortable and exhausted.

It didn't take much for her to drift off, too.

 

R
EECE WAS HAVING THE
time of his life.

All drivers dreamed of the perfect race, and in his case, he was living the dream.

He was strapped into his Ferrari F60 so tightly that he could only just about breathe. The heat was intense, the wind bruising and the G-forces flattened him against the seat.

He was in sheer heaven—and he was in second place.

There was nothing in the universe except for his car, the road and the car in front of him. Adrenaline fueled his laserlike focus, strategy a constant clicking in his brain. Second would be his best in a World Cup race, but second wasn't good enough. Reece was pulling out all the stops and racing for first.

It had been raining. The roads were wet, but that was
nothing. He knew this car like his own body, and when he was driving it, there wasn't any difference between the two, the way he saw it.

He edged up on his competitor. Overtaking wasn't common on Formula One tracks, but he had a shot as they came around the final turn. He hit the accelerator as they rounded, positioning himself to make the most of the aerodynamics of the high-tech car he drove. The back wheel of the guy in front of him was spinning close by when Reece heard the whining noise, but he didn't catch on at first that something was wrong. He'd blown out the front driver's side tire.

He'd skipped that last pit stop. A calculated risk. A mistake.

His car could go on three tires in some conditions, but not rounding a curb, not at his speed, not on wet roads. His mind didn't anticipate the worst—he adjusted and focused on cold calculation of how to maneuver, still thinking about the win as he felt himself propel sideways, lurching hard.

Reece sometimes felt like he was flying when he drove, but something told him that for a second, he was actually airborne.

Everything was black, and then it was very, very bright.

The pain was intense, and he was trapped. He fought to get out, at least, he thought he did. He had no idea where he even was.

He couldn't seem to open his eyes, no matter how hard he tried. He wanted to speak but couldn't, and while there was noise in his head that wouldn't stop, he couldn't make out anything understandable.

Panic set in, fear clawing at him, and he tried to calm down, but it just made it worse. He lunged forward, reaching out, trying to get through the blinding brightness, the deafening noise, but he couldn't.

Was this what dying was like?

His heart felt as if it would explode from his chest when he felt something, finally. Someone touched him, and he reached, finding a hand he could grab on to. He held it like it was his only connection to life, and maybe it was.

He still couldn't speak, or hear, but he could touch.

His heartbeat slowed, the panic subsiding slightly. He was alive, connected to something. Not alone.

For that moment, it was enough.

 

B
EFORE SHE EVEN REALIZED IT,
Abby opened her eyes to the soft, pre-dawn light, and to Reece's silver eyes watching her.

“Change your mind?” he said softly.

“Hmm?” she said, not sure what he was saying, or why he was in her bed, or… Her eyes flew open and she started to push up, but Reece's arm was over her, holding her snug against him.

“Steady,” he said.

Morning brain-fog assaulted her, and she fought for words, but ended up sputtering, becoming increasingly aware of the warm, hard male body aligned with hers, both buried under the soft quilt and blankets.

“You were dreaming,” she finally managed to say. “You broke your lamp. I thought you were an intruder,”
she explained, hoping he was awake enough to interpret her garbled, simple sentences.

As she shifted, it brought her closer to him and she knew he was
very
awake.

“You thought there was someone in the house, so you decided to crawl into bed with me?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

“No, I thought there was an intruder, but when I came to get you, I saw you had broken your lamp and were having a nightmare. Do you remember?”

He shook his head, then closed his eyes. “Vaguely. I've had it before, or other nightmares anyway. I don't know if it's the same one. I can never remember the details.”

“You were thrashing around, so obviously it was…bad. I tried to wake you up, but you were out cold, so I thought maybe if I just sat with you for a while you'd be okay,” she said, shrugging.

“You could have been hurt. Stepped on glass,” he said, frowning.

“I was fine. You were the one hurting, apparently.”

“And you helped,” he said softly, looking at her strangely, like he was remembering something, but he didn't say anything, so she did.

“I meant to go back to my room, and then I guess I fell asleep.”

“I see,” he said, his eyes warm on her face.

“I should probably go,” she said.

“Do you really want to?”

Did she?

Of course she did, but…but what?

All of her reservations seemed so flimsy. Sure, she
might get hurt, but she was a big girl. This was her chance to experience something wonderful, and there might never be another chance.

Reece would sell this winery, leave, and the odds were that she'd never see him again, except on TV.

Already, it hurt her heart a little to think about that, but so what? She'd survive, and she'd have some great memories. Maybe it was impossible to live your fantasies without some risk of being hurt. Maybe that was the price.

“No, I really don't,” she said.

“Good, because I really want you to stay.”

Her decision made, she smiled and slid her arm around him, too, enjoying how he pressed fully against her in a move that left her in no doubt that he wanted her—a lot.

The look of sheer hunger on his face made reason disappear. His lips were just a scant breath from hers, and she could hardly believe this was truly happening.

“Here's the thing, sweetheart,” he said against her lips. “I don't care if an asteroid hits outside the window, nothing is interrupting us this time.”

“Got it, no asteroids,” she managed to say before he was kissing the life out of her, pushing her back until she was pinned between the warm, soft mattress and about six feet of hard, delicious man.

His mouth rubbed over hers erotically as he stopped to nip at her lower lip, his tongue darting out to lick the spot he bit before plunging deeper.

She arched into him, kissing him back with every ounce of passion she'd been holding back, tasting him as deeply as he tasted her. The faint scent of cedar, pine
and smoke clung to his body from the night before, and she inhaled, loving how it mixed with his natural manly scent.

She barely recognized herself as she clung to him, wrapping a leg around his hip, arching into his hardness, rubbing and moaning into his mouth. She enjoyed sex, but she'd never felt so voracious about it. But right now, she wanted skin-on-skin, and pushed at the elastic band of the shorts between them.

He was of like mind, sliding his shorts off, then reaching for the edge of her flimsy cotton nightgown and pushing it upward until there wasn't anything hiding her from his gaze.

“Oh, sweetheart, this has been so worth waiting for,” Reece said as he took her in. His hands drifted over her, learning her softness, studying her body so intently that she would have felt self-conscious if his touches weren't rendering her mindless.

“Um, I'm on birth control and I'm, you know, healthy. I haven't been with anyone in a while,” she admitted, feeling a little awkward. But while they were old friends, they were new lovers, and certain things had to be said.

He nodded while nibbling at her shoulder, sending shivers everywhere.

“Me, too. Like I mentioned earlier, there's been no one since before the accident, and I've been thoroughly checked for everything with all of the time I spent in hospitals,” he whispered against her ear.

She remembered how hard and urgent he'd been the day before when she'd stroked him to orgasm in the kitchen, and it was enough to make her shudder,
reaching for him, wanting to make it happen again. The idea that she was his first lover after such a long time was important to her. Maybe that meant he wouldn't forget her later, either.

“Good, so we know we don't have to worry about
any
interruptions,” she said with a smile.

She didn't want anything between them, and let him know by reaching down to find him, closing her fingers around him with a sigh of satisfaction. She opened her thighs and used her hand to slide him against her already slick sex, arching and then closing her legs to trap him there.

“I love how you feel next to me,” she said, moving her hips against him, enjoying the slippery friction of their bodies. “But I bet it's not as good as you'd feel inside me.”

“You make it tough to go slow,” he said, pushing against her, sliding along the wet V of her flesh in a way that made her whimper and dig her fingers into his shoulders.

“Who wants slow?” she said, biting his shoulder. “Aren't you supposed to like speed?”

She yelped and then laughed as he found a ticklish spot and capitalized on it, then grabbed her hands and pinned them up over her head. She struggled slightly, and he could see it just excited her more when he pressed down, holding her in place.

Another little discovery about Abby.

“Now I've got you right where I want you,” he said with a delicious smile. “And I plan to take my time. Maybe some guys make love like they race, but I think women and wine are more alike, they need to be
savored,” he said against her lips, catching her lower one between his teeth, then drawing it in and sucking before taking her whole mouth in a deep, carnal kiss. “We have time. Let's get to know each other,” he said softly.

“But I want—”

“I know, me, too, and we'll get there. Promise,” he said.

“You're such a tease,” she accused, the last word ending on a moan as he ran his tongue along the shell of her ear, his cock still prodding and sliding along her sex, but not even coming close to where she wanted him.

“Can't help it when it comes to you,” he said, moving lower to draw a nipple between his teeth, nipping lightly and making her arch, the slight pain making the drawing pleasure of his mouth a moment later even more intense.

He let her arms go and looked at her, his voice stern.

“Leave your hands there. Don't move them. I want to find out what you like, what you want,” he said, his hands moving over her experimentally, lingering in places that made her react, moving on past the ones that didn't. “But if you move, I have to stop.”