Merry and Bright (17 page)

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Authors: Jill Shalvis

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: Merry and Bright
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“I’m not injured,” he said. But was he okay? Maybe, if he discounted the fact that he was out in the middle of nowhere, no Thai takeout within sixty miles, actually enjoying the feel of the snow at his back soaking into his clothes.... And let’s not forget the biggee—that he was in all likelihood falling for a woman who was right now patting him down and making him wish they weren’t outside in the cold snow but somewhere warm.

And naked.

A woman he realized he wanted to fall for.

But other than that, yeah, he was just great.

7

A
drenaline flowing, Hope leaned over Danny. She couldn’t see any injuries, but the light was low and the snow falling pretty thickly.

Dammit.

Reaching behind him, she shoved open the equipment shed. “Scoot in,” she demanded.

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m cold and wet. Scoot in.”

“City girl.”

Something about the roughness of his voice, with the slight—very slight—edge of humor got to her.

He
got to her. “I thought you were hurt,” she said as they landed on the floor of the shed.

“Told you I’m not.” He pulled off his fogged glasses and cleaned them on the hem of his shirt sticking out from his jacket. “I’m tougher than you think.”

Yeah. Yeah, he was. And something else she was discovering . . . she wasn’t. She wasn’t nearly as tough as she’d thought, or she wouldn’t be so worked up right now, heart drumming, pulse racing, even as she rolled to face him. “Why did you try to get between me and that bear?”

He put on his glasses and stared at her. “I don’t know, it was instinctive.”

“What did you think you were going to do, save me?”

“Well . . . yeah.”

Now
she
stared at
him
. “Are you crazy?”

“You can face down a bear, but I can’t?”

“You don’t even like me, why would you take on a damn bear for me?”

He let out a low laugh and a shake of his head. “And here I thought you were such an observant woman.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means . . .” He reached up and touched her face, ran a finger over the small bruise she had on her forehead from when she’d managed to nearly knock herself out with the pipe in the cellar. “You’re not paying attention.”

“I’m paying attention.” It was why her heart was pounding in her ears. “Maybe . . . maybe you’re just trying to play me.”

“Maybe same goes,” he said evenly.

She choked on a mirthless laugh as her emotions got the best of her. Never a good thing, but she went into a flurry of motion to get as far away from him as fast as possible, except he anticipated and caught her.

She tried to twist away, but he completely negated her temper, turning into something else entirely when he pulled her down to him and pressed his mouth to hers in a long, deep, wet kiss full of such heat she nearly imploded. By the time he pulled back, she could barely speak. “I’m not a player.”

“Good. Neither am I.” His eyes verified that fact, and also what he felt for her. That knowledge, combined with the heat they were generating between them, nearly took her breath. But what he did next
did
take her breath. He covered her hand in his and pressed it to his chest. “I like you, Hope.” His heart was drumming, steady and just a little too fast. “That’s how much.”

“Maybe that’s adrenaline from the bear.”

Eyes on her, his fingers tightened on her hand, sliding it down his chest to the zipper of his pants. Behind it, he was hard as steel. “Is that adrenaline from the bear, too?”

“Huh.” Her voice wasn’t too steady. “Probably not.” She let her fingers play over him, loving the way that had the breath rushing from his lungs. “Some people react to adrenaline in . . . interesting ways,” she said.

“No doubt. And while that bear was beautiful, my tastes in females tend toward the furless, not to mention of the human variety.”

When she snorted, his hands slid beneath her coat and up her back. “Are we going to wrestle some more, Hope? Or—”

“Or,” she said definitively, and fisting her hands in the front of his jacket, she covered his mouth with hers. And right there, on the hard wooden floor, with Danny on his back and the snow blowing in behind her, she straddled him.

No slouch, he slid one hand into her hair to hold her mouth to his while the other gripped her thighs, pulling her tighter against him, and when that apparently wasn’t enough, he cupped her bottom and urged her to rock against him. With a helpless moan at the feel of a most impressive bulge between her legs, she had to admit—he was no lightweight. As his mouth worked its feverish way over her jaw to her ear, she pressed her face to the crook of his neck and let her eyes cross with lust. “Danny—”

“Yeah. Right.” A low breath escaped her, and he let his hands fall from her to the floor at his sides. “You’ve come to your senses.”

His pragmatic words uttered in such a desire-roughened voice only made her want him more, and she stared down into his face, into those light, warm eyes that always drew her in, and absorbed his easy acceptance of her.
Her
. For exactly who she was. “Yes,” she said softly. “I’ve come to my senses.” And still holding his gaze in hers, she pushed him farther into the shed to protect them from the show and any prying eyes, and then went for the button on his pants.

He closed his eyes and groaned when she lowered his zipper and stroked a finger down the length of him. His hips rocked up and her name tumbled from his throat in a low, rough, strangled voice.

Her knees were digging into the hard floor and she didn’t care. Her own hands were rough as she shoved up his shirt to reveal a rather impressive set of abs, and with a low, muttered “thank God,” his were just as rough as he wrestled with her jacket.

She tore her gloves off with her teeth because she had to touch skin to skin, then waved her arms like a bat trying to throw off the jacket—“Holy shit,” she wheezed out when his icy fingers slid up her shirt.

“Sorry.” But instead of stopping, he unhooked her bra and pushed it up, along with her shirt and her half-removed jacket, then with a hand spread on the small of her back, nudged her down over him.

“Danny—” His name backed up in her throat as his mouth found a breast. God.
God
. It was like the opening of a dam, as their hands fought for purchase.

“Hope—I don’t have a condom.”

She stared at him as reality hit, and then she remembered. “I have four!” She pulled them out of her pocket and held them up like a trophy. “The benefit of having a horny best friend who thinks I need more sex.”

“God bless horny best friends,” he said fervently.

Feeling the same way, she got his pants down to his thighs and he got hers open, but then they got tangled as he tried to tug the jeans off. He wrestled with the clothes for a minute, swearing when he found she also had on long underwear. “Christ, it’s just like my high school dreams, where I can’t get the girl naked.”

“Here.” Laughing, she helped kick off her pants, and then the long underwear, which caught on one of her boots. “Leave it,” she gasped as his hands pulled her back over him so that once again she was straddling him, where together they got the condom on.

“God, Hope, look at you.” He stroked his hand up her inner thigh, letting his thumb stroke over her very center, carefully spreading her open. “You’re wet.” He played in that wetness, making her cry out and rock against him. “Is that adrenaline from the bear?” he asked, teasing her with the words she’d given him. “Or for me?”

“Ha,” she managed, then choked out a needy little whimper when he pushed up inside her, the sound meshing with the low, sexy rumble that came from deep in his throat.

His fingers held her still when she would have rocked, not letting her move. “Not yet,” he whispered thickly, and stroked his thumb over her again, and then again, slowly increasing in rhythm and pressure, taking his cues from her reactions, which were shockingly earthy and base. “If you move,” he managed in a low growl that she found sexy as hell, “I’m done.”

She didn’t care; in that moment she only cared about the way his fingers were moving on her, taking her places she hadn’t been in so damn long, and then there was how he felt, thick and hot and big, God so big, inside of her. His hands were gentle and tender but there was something so raw about his every movement, so uncalculated, as if it had been as long for him as it had been for her. It had her nerves on high alert, leaving her so pleasure-taut, so unbearably sensitive, she was already on the very edge. She heard the whimper escape her throat, a horrifyingly embarrassing sound, but she couldn’t stop or control herself.

With him, she could never control herself.

So she gave up trying. For this moment, she let herself go, just gave in to it, in to him, and her hands slapped on the hard floor on either side of his head. “Danny, now . . .”

Releasing her hips, he rose up to meet her, his hands sliding into her hair to bring her mouth to his.

Her permission to move.

So she moved. She rocked her hips, then again when he guided her into a rhythm that had her bursting wildly. Even more startling, he came with her. Simultaneous orgasm. It was amazing, soul-shaking, and revealing, almost too much so, and she tried to bury her nose into his throat, but he held her face, letting her see every single emotion as it hit him—the sheer, unadulterated desire, the hunger, the heat such as she’d never known, and perhaps the most devastatingly intimate emotion of all . . .

Affection.

And with his arms banded tight around her, holding on to her as if she was the most precious thing in his world, she stared back into his eyes and gave him the same.

8

W
ell, holy shit, Danny thought as Hope flopped off him, gasping for breath.

From flat on his back on the floor of the shed, Danny did his own gasping for breath as he stared up at the ceiling. He couldn’t have been more stunned if he’d just been hit head-on by a moving freight train. He’d just had the best sex of his entire life. On the ground. In the great outdoors. In the wilds of Colorado.

In the snow.

God, what he’d give to be able to shout it from the rooftops of all the assholes who’d ever given him a hard time in his school days for being the nerd.

Nerds unite.

Smiling helplessly, he rolled toward Hope. She had her pants on one leg, hanging off the other, her jacket half on and her top shoved up to her chin.

God, she was hot. And gorgeous. And sweet. And blurry. Where the hell were his glasses?

She’d flung an arm over her eyes, and was still breathing like she’d just run a marathon, which gave him a ridiculously dopey grin.

And the urge to nuzzle. Yeah, he wanted to draw things out, snuggle, cuddle, the whole bit. Maybe even go for round two. To that end, he scooted closer and slid a hand up her bare leg to her hip—

Sitting straight up, she pushed his hand away and began to right her clothing.

“Hey,” he murmured, softly. “Are you—”

His shirt, the one she’d ripped off him only a few minutes before, hit him square in the face.

“Hurry,” she said.

He pulled the shirt down. “Before the bear comes back?”

“Before someone decides to take a stroll and see us.”

“In four feet of snow?”

“We’re out here, aren’t we?” She jammed her foot back into the one boot she’d managed to tear off. To hurry him along, she tossed his jacket over as well. “Why aren’t you moving?”

“My bones dissolved. Hope, that was—”

“Fun,” she agreed, not looking at him as she laced up her boot. “Thanks for that, I feel much better now. More relaxed.”

“Okay, good, but—”

And while he was still stuttering, she stood up and walked off, her boots crunching in the snow as she went, muttering something about how that back door to the kitchen had better no longer be locked.

He lay back to resume his staring up at the ceiling, but something was under his ass.

His glasses.

He put them on his nose and sighed. They were bent to hell. “Thanks for that,” he said, repeating Hope’s words, then laughed at himself.

Something brushed his foot then, and picturing the bear, he leaped up, his pants still at his thighs—

And met the surprised gaze of one very curious deer, peering into the shed with huge doe eyes.

“Jesus,” Danny said shakily.

Which was apparently too much for Bambi, and she took off, leaping like the picture of grace through the snow across the open yard.

Danny let out a breath and yanked up his pants—a guy needed balls of steel for this place. Giving himself a pep talk, including one about not letting himself think too hard about what he and Hope had just done—or how fast she’d run from it—he managed to get back to the B&B. He let himself in the kitchen door and came face to face with yet another audience.

Lori and Ben.

They were sitting on the counters sipping steaming coffee, but what he noticed most was their matching grins.

“Hey,” Lori said sweetly.

“Hey.” Danny looked out the window and saw to his relief that the shed was not visible from here. He turned and divided a look between husband and wife as he shrugged out of his jacket. “So I suppose neither of you know how Hope got locked out of here a few minutes ago.”

“Um, what?”

“The door,” he said. “It was locked.”

“Huh.” Ben lifted a shoulder. “Odd.”

Lori nodded. “Odd.”

He gave up and headed across the kitchen to the coffeepot. “I’m going to go check on the road conditions.”

“Sure,” Lori said. “But you might want to tie your left boot and rebutton your shirt.”

He’d buttoned his shirt wrong. Perfect. He fixed that and bent to work on the boot.

“Must be a helluva wind out there.”

Danny straightened and met Ben’s steady, even gaze. Yeah. It’d been a helluva wind all right, and its name had been Hope. “Do you happen to know if the roads have been cleared?”

“Yes, but it’s going to be dark soon. You really going to head out?”

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