Free All I Want For Christmas Is You by Jessica Scott Page A

need to hide it from the world. Being unable to see his way out of the darkness that surrounded him.
    And he’d missed the signs in her. For a thousand pointless reasons, he’d missed them. He’d left her alone in the dark.
    Because he could do nothing less, he reached for her then. Cradled her cheek until she turned to face him. “You’re not broken, Sam.” He gave up on his plan. Abandoned it in the nearest snow bank, needing only to be there for her. To hold her and let her know he was there. At that moment and forever. He’d never leave her alone again. He brushed his lips against hers. “You went to war. You lost people you care about.” A gentle nudge. “You’re not broken. You’re just different. We’re all different when we come home.”
    She closed her eyes, avoiding his.
    It was a long moment before she nuzzled his hand with her cheek. “I don’t want to be different.” Tired words filled with sadness. She leaned in, resting her forehead against his. “I want to feel normal again.” She pressed her lips to his. Slid her tongue against his. A hesitant touch. “Make me feel again, Patrick.”
    And he was lost.
     
     

     
     
     
     
     
     
     
Chapter Nine
     
     
     
    I t started as something gentle. Something hesitant.
    And then it wasn’t. Not gentle. It was not tame or timid or questioning.
    It burned her down to the roots of her soul. It touched something deep and dark and hidden.
    Something she’d thought was long since dead and buried and gone.
    His tongue slid against hers, stroking to life the very sensations she thought she’d never feel again.
    It was electric, the feel of his mouth against hers. The scrape of stubble against her chin, the taste of him. The smell of his skin.
    He nipped her. Pinched her bottom lip between his teeth and sucked it. And she sighed at the pleasure, at the raw ache his taste and touch aroused in her, pushing aside the darkness that haunted her.
    She felt him. Felt everything. The heat of his skin. The warmth that drew her closer. That made her want to crawl into his lap and unzip his pants and push up that damned flannel shirt until they were skin to skin and there was nothing between them but sweat and heat.
    One hand slid down her side. Tugged at her fleece and…
    “Dear lord,” he muttered against her lips. “How many layers of clothing do you have on under this thing?”
    She smiled. “You weren’t wondering why I wasn’t cold?”
    “Well, you’d be a champ at strip poker right about now,” he said dryly.
    Then his fingers found her skin, and she was no longer thinking.
    He traced the very tips of his fingers over her belly. Light, feathery strokes that made her skin quiver. She gasped when he slipped them higher, finding the swell of her breast. Every cell in her body was alert to his touch, anticipating the next stroke of his fingers.
    He lifted his mouth from hers. Pressed his tongue to the corner of her lips before nipping her there.
    Then he paused, pressing his cheek to hers. Just for a moment, the world fell away, and he was there, holding her, cradling her, reminding her of everything that was still good between them.
    It was a moment before she felt it. His breath teasing the sensitive flesh around her ear. A quiet huff of air against her skin. Her body tensed, waiting for his touch, his tongue.
    A delicious torment. An old familiar heat slid through her veins, warming her, pulling her out of the darkness at the bottom of the well.
    In the silence of heated desire, of hushed passion, she heard it.
    Someone gently rapping on the driver’s side window.
    She pulled back, seeing the wanting smile on Patrick’s lips. “Someone’s timing sucks.”
    He released her and her skin protested the loss of his touch. She shivered as he rolled the window down.
    “Well,” Garrett said, leaning down on the side of the car, “it’s certainly awkward meeting you like this.”
    Sam offered a guilty half smile. “I was going to