The Trouble with Mistletoe Read online

  He slid his hands up her arms and back into her hair. “Right here.” And he kissed her again, a slow, melting nuzzle of lips; warm, comforting.

  Tempting.

  Her body moved of its own volition, shifting closer, seeking his heat. With a groan, he pulled her in, those wide shoulders blocking out the light, everything but him. One of his big, warm hands settled at the nape of her neck, holding her steady as he continued to kiss the ever-loving daylights out of her.

  She cupped his strong jaw, stroking the two-day stubble that she wanted to feel scrape over her body. When her jacket fell from her, she startled. He’d unzipped and nudged it off her shoulders and she hadn’t even noticed.

  “Shh,” he whispered, his mouth on her throat. “I’ve got you.”

  And he did. Supported between the wall and his big, delicious body, it was okay that her legs felt wobbly.

  Because he had her.

  They had to break the kiss for a single beat when he lifted her shirt over her head and then his warm hands were on her bare breasts.

  He’d unhooked her bra, letting that fall away as well.

  Lifting his head, he looked down at her and let out a long, slow exhale, like he was struggling with control. He watched as she arched into his touch, begging without words for his mouth, for him to find her irresistible, pretty.

  “I can’t take my eyes off you,” he murmured, lips at her ear. “You’re so beautiful, Willa.”

  “Mew!”

  “Quiet,” they both said at the same time, holding each other’s laughing gaze.

  “I thought it was kids that were supposed to act like birth control,” he said.

  Petunia actually sighed and stalked off, legs stiff, tail twitching.

  “Don’t go away mad,” Keane told her. “Just go away.”

  “Keane.”

  “Only for a few minutes,” he called after the cat. And then he lifted Willa into his arms, the muscles of his shoulders and back rippling smoothly under his shirt. Mmm. Pressing her mouth to his jaw, she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her down the hall to her bed.

  Where he tossed her.

  A surprised squeak escaped her but before she’d bounced more than once he was on her, pressing her down into the mattress, covering her body with his.

  “What did I say about dominating me?” she asked with a laugh.

  He raised his head, his eyes as dark as the night. “I was hoping that didn’t apply to sex.” His mouth left her lips, heading toward her ear, taking little love bites as he went. “Cuz I’m feeling a little dominant here, Willa.”

  Each nibble, each scrape of his teeth seemed to melt her bones away. “That’s okay,” she panted. “Maybe we could take turns.”

  “Maybe.” His movements over her were sensual, slow, and dreamlike, and so erotic she writhed for more. He worked his way south from her neck to her collarbone—who knew that was an erogenous zone?—making her gasp when he got to her breast. His tongue worked her nipple over, teasing and tormenting along with his talented, knowing hands, and the sensations drove her right to the edge of a cliff and left her hanging there. “Keane.”

  “I know.” He slid further down her body, divesting her of the sweats as he went. Then he made himself at home between her legs, spread wide by his broad-as-a-mountain shoulders.

  “Um,” she said. “I—”

  He scraped her panties to the side, pressed a kiss to the hot, wet flesh he exposed, and she promptly forgot what she’d been about to say. She heard a shuddery moan and was shocked to realize it was her. “Off,” she demanded, pushing his shirt up his ridged abs, not wanting to be the only half-naked one, but also wanting to see his gorgeous bod.

  Without skipping a beat or taking his mouth off of her, he reached one hand up and tugged his shirt over his head. This did momentarily rip his mouth from her heated skin, but the moment he was free of the shirt, he went back to loving her with his mouth.

  She could feel him now, all of him. “When did you lose the rest of your clothes—Oh my God,” she cried out, eyes crossing with lust when he did something in combination with his teeth, his tongue, and his fingers. “Don’t stop doing that.”

  “Never,” he promised as he played with her, teasing her to the very edge. But just as she felt her toes start to curl, he stopped and she cried out.

  He only flashed a wicked smile, not at all concerned that he was a fraction of an inch from certain death for leaving her hanging like that. Leaning up over her, he gave her one hard kiss and then hooked his long fingers in the sides of her panties, tugging them down her legs, sending them sailing over his shoulder without taking his eyes off of her.

  And what he’d exposed.

  “Oh, Willa. Christ.” His big hands held her thighs open. “You’re so gorgeous.” Surging up, he kissed her mouth, his hands still tormenting her, the sensations skittering down her every nerve ending with a little zing, driving her back to the edge she’d never really left. She dug her fingers into his biceps.

  “If you stop again—”

  “I won’t.” And true to his word, he continued the assault, the sexy bastard, slowly kissing his way south, stopping at her belly button to take a little nibble out of her, making her squirm.

  Laughing softly against her, he tightened his grip on her hips, holding her still so he could drive her crazy. This involved his mouth taking the scenic route, where he alternately dragged his tongue along her heated skin and stopped once every other breath or so to take a little love bite.

  “Keane!”

  He lifted his head, his eyes dark, so dark she nearly drowned in them. “Last time we did this your way,” he said. “It’s my turn now. My way, Willa.”

  She swallowed hard at the heat and fierce intensity of his low voice. “And your way is to torture me?”

  He flashed another wicked grin. “To start.”

  With a groan, she flopped back to the bed, arms over her head.

  “Yeah, I like that,” Keane said and reached up, stroking his hands along her arms to her fingers, which he wrapped around the bottom rung of the headboard. “Don’t let go.” Then he held her open, groaned at the visual, and licked the length of her center.

  Willa got a little fuzzy on the details after that but they involved her moaning his name nonstop and fisting her hands in his hair, and after a shockingly short time, coming apart for him.

  Completely.

  His body was hard and muscular and felt amazing against hers and she forced her eyes to open to take in as much as possible because this was absolutely going to have to be it. She couldn’t do this again with him and not hopelessly fall. In fact, she was only half convinced that she could resist doing so this time.

  Braced on his forearms on either side of her head, he looked down at her. A lock of hair fell over his forehead, his eyes dark with heat and sexy concentration, his mouth still wet. The sight of him took her breath.

  God, he was the beautiful one, she thought dazedly. Simply beautiful. Reaching up, she traced his bottom lip with a fingertip and then tugged him closer so she could suck that lower lip into her mouth.

  He gave a half groan, half growl as she slid her tongue into his mouth, sliding it along his.

  “Love the taste of you,” he said and thrust inside of her.

  She cried out and arched up to meet him, unable to figure out when he’d put on a condom, but grateful one of them was thinking with something other than their pleasure buttons.

  Above her, Keane’s eyes drifted shut, his expression uninhibited pleasure.

  He took her breath.

  He had one arm beneath her shoulders to anchor her, the other gripping her ass as if he needed to be as close as possible. When he began to move, it was in a slow, lazy grind, like he had all the time in the world to love her.

  But he didn’t. Given the lump in her throat, they were on a time crunch now, before panic hit. So she shoved him, rolling him to his back. To his credit, he went easily, flashing a wolf smile.