clothes,
revealing her black bra and lace panties in front of him as though it was
nothing. As though he was a block of ice.
He was as cold as one. But not
staring at her body was difficult. In the same way as one shouldn’t look a gift
horse in the mouth, it was as impolite to look a gift girl in the boobs. Even if
she was trying to save you from freezing to death. He’d never been happier to
dive under a quilt, but then she’d climbed in after him and given him full body
resuscitation.
The shivering had stopped. His
skin felt cool, rather than frigid.
Apart from one, very hot area.
“I’m not apologizing for that.”
He looked down. “I don’t have any control over it.”
Her face went pink. “I
understand.”
“It’s because you’re not wearing
much and you’re wrapped around me like a vine,” he said. “My body thinks it’s
Christmas.”
“It almost is.” She didn’t
attempt to move away. Her hand traced lazy circles on his back. “I think you’re
warming up nicely.”
“I am.” Heat permeated through
him, like warm milk on a stove. “I feel much better.” He angled around her to
look at the dog in the basket. “He looks okay too.”
“I dried him off, and he’s so
close to the stove I reckon he should be okay.” Her hand kept moving, and her
leg was still over his thigh. “What you did was very dangerous. What if I hadn’t
been able to pull you out?”
He nodded. He’d acted on
instinct, rather than using his brain. The current was flowing so fast both of
them could have been drowned. “I’m sorry I frightened you. I just couldn’t—”
“Couldn’t let Fella be washed
away.” She chewed her bottom lip. “I know. We both have become ridiculously
attached to that dog. I hope he appreciates it.”
“He must be feeling a lot better.
He took off after that rabbit like a rocket. There’s definitely a hint of
collie in him.”
She stroked his shoulders.
His cock jerked against her
stomach.
She smelled of flowers, of lemon,
of summer. Of Summer. He pushed back her cloud of tawny gold hair back from her
face. Saw her eyes change as she stared up at him. “Thank you.” He kissed her
cheek.
Her chin tilted up, bringing her
mouth into alignment with his.
This time, when they kissed,
there was no trace of alcohol in either of their bodies. No clouded thinking.
She made a small sound, somewhere between a sigh and a moan, and deepened the
kiss, arching her back to snuggle in to him.
So far, she’d been the one
touching. Rubbing. Holding. As the heat flooded through his body, warming the
blood in his veins, Nick felt as though he’d been injected with a shot of
adrenalin.
Her body was beautiful. He
wrapped his arms around her, and stroked down the long length of her spine,
nape to base.
She shivered, but not from the
cold.
His fingers traced the waist of
her panties, then he slid his hands up her back again, and undid her bra.
She did a weird move, a sort of
undulation and wriggle, and then the bra was off, and her naked breasts were
against his chest.
“They’re cold.” He cupped both of
them. “Gorgeous, but cold.” He trailed his lips down her neck, tasting a trace
of salt on her skin.
“I’m warming up too.” Her voice
was husky, low, aroused. “I wish this sofa wasn’t so narrow.” She stroked the
side of his face. “Will we go upstairs?”
“To your bed?” This was getting
out of control fast. The thought of spending the rest of the day in bed,
exploring every inch of her with intense focus was difficult to resist.
“I want to have sex with you,
Nick.”
Have sex. Condom . “Do you
have any condoms?” There was probably one in his wallet, but one …
“I...” She pulled a face. “No. I
don’t. I used to be on the pill, but...”
“I think I have one.” He stroked
his thumb across her cheek. “Should we use it now or save it for later?”
She rubbed her eyes. “I don’t
believe this. One condom.” She blew out a breath. “I wonder
Craig R. Saunders, Craig Saunders