A Very Naughty Christmas

Chapter Six

What had started out as flurries at three o’clock had become four inches on slick covered roads by the end of her shift, at five. Maggie, who lived halfway up the mountain past Mars Hill, had called in twenty minutes ago, unable to get down her driveway. This meant Dixie was stuck at work until closing time at midnight, or until foot traffic stopped enough for Pete to close early, which he rarely did.

That call still hadn’t come at seven o’clock as she sat at the counter, bored out of her mind with the last customer having left an hour past, and nothing to do except watch the snow pile up at a rate of two inches per hour. The traffic that had slowed around dark had dwindled to only the occasional full-size SUV or emergency vehicle going by at a crawl. Even those skated through the intersection in front of Pete’s while she and Lester looked on and held their breath. Dixie would close her eyes at the last minute, waiting for the inevitable crunch of metal, but with so few out in the full force of the winter storm, they went through blessedly unscathed.

“I’m calling Pete,” Lester finally announced at seven-thirty. “This is ridiculous. If we don’t go soon, we’ll be stranded.”

“Not me. I’ve got boots in my locker and I’ll make snowshoes out of the breadbaskets before I stay here overnight.”

“Get ‘em, babe. I’m calling the boss man and telling him we’re out of here.”

Dixie grinned after the older man as she headed for the phone. At sixty-three, he’d come of age in the sixties, served through the last few years of the Vietnam war, watched disco live and die, and been through a decade of hair bands. He’d survived two wives, raised three wonderful children, wore a huge diamond stud earring, a perpetual ponytail—thinned over the years—had a mass of interesting tattoos, and had to be one of the most memorable characters she’d ever had the privilege of knowing. Too bad he was old enough to be her grandfather or else she’d have scooped him up because he was also one of the best men she knew.

As his low rumble echoed through the kitchen door, she began shutting down the front, switching off the coffeepot and turning off the lights. By the time Lester emerged from the back with his coat and gloves in hand, she had her own on, as well as her boots, and was swirling her scarf around her neck.

“Come on, young’un. I’ll drive you.”

“You live in the opposite direction,” she protested with a shake of her head. “I’m good.”

“I’m not about to let you walk home in this mess.”

“You’ll be lucky to get your old clunker the four blocks you’ve got to go.”

“Hey, watch how you talk about old Jessie. She ain’t much to look at, but that old gal is reliable as the day is long and has a lot of life left in her.”

Dixie burst out laughing at that whopper. “You had to boost her off three times last week.”

“I put in a new battery the other day; she’s as good as new.”

She shook her head at the thought of climbing in the twenty-year-old Jeep. “She’s a soft top, Les, and your heater died years ago. I’ll stay warmer if I’m walking.” She was at the door before he could say anything else. “You lock up as a tradeoff.” Then she tossed him the keys and was through the door.

“You need someone to put you over his knee, girl.”

That was the second time she’d heard that this week. She laughed as she waved through the front windows. He knocked on the glass and yelled, “If you get frostbite, I’ll be the one doing it, too. So help me!”

“Love you too, Les,” she called. “Drive safe now.”

As she turned the corner heading down South 5 th Street, she braced herself against the driving wind and snow that was whipping directly in her face. She drew her thin coat closer, which couldn’t keep the frigid chill from cutting through it and the two sweaters she wore underneath, or the long-sleeved shirt she had on under her short-sleeved uniform dress. Her legs were in worse shape as the snow, already six or seven inches deep, came over the tops of her ankle boots and clung to her leggings. Thank goodness she had a pair in her locker or her skin would have been bare except for her white tights.

She pulled up her thin hood and covered her mouth and nose with her scarf as she hunched her shoulders and trudged on.

As the minutes ticked by and the snow piled up rapidly, she found battling the wind while walking in the heavy, drifting snow more difficult than she’d expected and despite the cold, began to sweat beneath her clothes. She counted off the blocks at the end of each street where she invariable stumbled slightly, unable to tell where the sidewalk ended and the street began, with the curb buried and invisible. Turning stiffly from side to side, she checked for vehicles—although no one was out, except her—and then continued on. Another block facing the wind took over ten minutes while she slipped and slid on the ice layer beneath the deep snow. She was on block number three when a vehicle pulled up alongside her.

“Get in,” called a voice over the whistling wind. She didn’t recognize the black SUV and waved it off, trying to move faster. “Dixie, get in the vehicle, before you freeze your stubborn ass off.”

He knew her. She squinted, seeing a big man with a hat drawn low over his forehead and ears. His sheepskin collar was flipped up and covered his face except for his nose and a pair of eyes that appeared black in the dark. She didn’t recognize him or his vehicle, and shook her head, taking a step back, about to resume walking when he jerked off his hat.

“It’s Kyle, darlin’. You’re safe. Get in.”

Relief swept over her as well as a strong gust that cut to the bone. Struggling over the small mountain of snow that had been plowed to the edge of the road earlier, she reached to grab onto the open door. She missed, losing her footing in the slick, snow-packed tread marks left by a passing vehicle some time ago. Landing on her knees with a thud, the snow went up her sleeves over her mittens, sending a shiver coursing through her body.

As she reached up for the door again, a strong arm came around her waist. The next moment, she was lifted and propelled through the open door, two big hands boosting her up on the seat by the butt. Her yelp of surprise was swept away on a howling blast of wind.

After nudging her feet in, he slammed the door and came around to his side while she warmed her hands by the vent. Shivering, with teeth chattering, the full effect of her trek through the storm hit her.

The frigid air blew in as he climbed up. Once his door was shut, he looked over to where she sat shuddering despite the heat blowing on high. His long arm reached into the rear seat and brought out a blanket, which he tucked around her.

“Little fool,” he murmured gruffly. “The wind chill is less than zero. What were you doing walking? You should have stayed at the diner.”

“Wanted to go home…” she explained through frozen lips. “Needed to get home to Lucy.”

He drew back in shock. “You’ve got a daughter?”

“No, a cat. What… are… you doing… out?” Her words were broken as a shudder swept through her. Before she could think another thought, she found herself pressed against his chest as his hands roughly stroked up and down her arms and back.

“This is a poor excuse for a winter coat,” he observed, still rubbing her as he held her close.

“All I got,” her response coming between chattering teeth.

He had no comeback for that, holding her close to his body, while his big hands continued to chafe her skin through her four layers of clothes and the heater, blowing at full capacity, at last began to thaw her.

“Better?” he asked at long last.

“Much,” she said in a steadier voice. “Thank you.”

“Okay, let’s get you home and into something warm and dry.” He released her, pulling her seatbelt across her hips and latching it, then did his own. After shifting into low gear, he eased his Ford Expedition forward. The snow crunched beneath the tires, but the big vehicle was as stable and steady as if they were on dry roads.

“Dixie?”

“Yeah,” she asked, glancing over at him as they came to a stop at the next corner.

“I need to know where you live, darlin’.”

“Oh, right. Two blocks up, then left on Piedmont. Third shop on the left.”

“You live in a shop?”

“In an apartment above one. 104 ⒈／⒉ Piedmont Street, over the Posey Shop.”

“Got it.”

In four-wheel low, it took him five minutes, where it would have taken her at least thirty at the slow pace she had been slogging at in the driving wind and snow. He angle-parked in front of the flower shop and then came around to help her out. Slipping, despite her boots, she clung to his arm to keep from busting her ass on the icy, snow-covered front stoop.

“Where?” he called as he frowned at the storefront with the closed sign on the door.

“To the left, up the stairs.”

He moved them to the side door and pulled it open, pushing the piled-up snow that hadn’t been cleared off as he did so. She rushed into the dark stairwell and out of the wind. Feeling for the light switch in the dark with frozen fingers, she finally found it and flipped it up. Nothing happened.

“Power is out,” he said. “This is expected to be a record-setting, heavy snowfall and the wind has downed trees already. It’s going to get a lot worse before it’s over, I’m afraid.” He took her hand and moved ahead, going first up the stairs in the dark. At the top, he stopped, waiting for directions in the pitch black, windowless hallway. “The first door on the right.”

Reaching her stiff fingers into her coat pocket, she withdrew her keys.

He took them from her. “Which one is it?”

“The one on the ring by itself.”

Kyle had it open in a minute and was through first. She tried the switch inside the door, just in case. Still nothing.

“Candles and matches?” he asked.

“Yes,” she murmured as she moved past him in the dark. “I think I have some in the kitchen.” With some fumbling, she crossed to the kitchen, jumping when she heard a scraping sound. He had found his way to the living room window and opened her drapes, letting in some of the light reflected from the bright snow. That small amount helped her locate the four beeswax candles she had stashed in a drawer with a lighter for this kind of emergency. She stood up, as he moved up alongside her. “I have candle holders in the cabinet behind you. Second shelf.”

In another minute, there was a soft glow in the room. It wasn’t until then that she thought about Kyle seeing her shabby little apartment. The furniture was third hand at least, though it was clean, and the tables, which she’d gotten at a yard sale, were scarred and scratched. The wood stain markers she’d bought hadn’t been able to hide the deep grooves. And the carpet, which they hadn’t replaced when she moved in, had a large bleached-out stain. From what, she didn’t want to think about.

“Um, thank you for bringing me home. I’m sure you want to be on your way before the roads get impassable.”

“I’m not leaving you here without power. Do you have an alternate source of heat? A fireplace, maybe?”

“I have a kerosene heater in the bedroom.” She didn’t mention that it was cheaper to use than run the baseboard vents, and on really cold days, if she was off, she bundled up and spent her time in bed with her cat and a book.

“Good, I’ll get it started while you run a hot bath.”

“But the power is out.”

“The water in the tank will stay hot for a bit. The power probably hasn’t been off long. It will help get the chill out of your bones. It also may be your last chance for a bath for a few days if they don’t get the power on for a while.”

She couldn’t argue either point. As she went down the short hall to her bedroom, she patted a door as she passed. “The bathroom is in here, and there’s another door in my room.”

Going straight on through, she left Kyle in her room and closed the door behind her. She then stripped off her damp clothes and turned on the hot water faucet. Kyle was right. The water was still hot and she filled the old-fashioned claw-foot tub full, adding a big squirt of bubble bath. Then she sank in up to her neck, sighing as the warmth seeped into her half-frozen body.

She must have dozed off because the water had cooled when a knock sounded on her door. With a splash, she sat up, slightly disoriented.

“Dix, come on out and get dried off.”

It was then she realized she hadn’t brought in her robe or any clothes to change into. Dammit all!

“I’m getting out now,” she called as she released the stopper and climbed out, dripping on her thin bath mat. She toweled dry on her seen-better-days, ten-year-old Walmart cheapo bath towel, and again, wished for her chenille robe that she had found at the Goodwill Thrift Store in town. Gently used, it had been a real find, thicker than her old terrycloth version that she’d gotten her freshman year in college. It also would have covered her from earlobes to shriveled-up raisin toes. As it was, she only had the small hand towel that barely covered the essential parts in front.

She went to the door. “Um… Kyle?”

“Yeah, baby?”

When he called her that, for reasons she couldn’t fathom, a shiver went shooting down her spine to her neglected pussy, which, not happy at all about the long dry spell, perked up and paid attention.

“I forgot my robe. Could you pass it in to me? It’s on the chair by the window.” She heard the bed groan—holy crap, Kyle Prescott had been sitting, or lying, on her bed—and the old floorboards creak as he crossed the room. A month ago, if someone had told her that her teenage crush, turned pro quarterback, now hotshot doctor who volunteered with sick kids, and featured in all her erotic dreams, would be in her shitty apartment, let alone standing on the other side of her bathroom door while she waited naked and fresh out of the tub, she would have called them insane, delusional, or at the very least, an out-and-out liar.

The knob rattling beneath her hand made her jump.

“Dixie, open up.”

Of course, like she’d be naked in the tub with him in her apartment and leave it unlocked. Hiding behind the door, she twisted the lock and cracked the door, inching her hand through. There was a pause, then he laid it across her palm. She pulled it through, closing and locking the door again. After drying off and putting her damp hair up in a messy bun, she wrapped herself in her robe and tied the belt in a double knot, like she was a frightened virgin and it was made of armor instead of chenille.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, she opened the door. Kyle was reclined against her pillows, in a thermal Henley and jeans, both fitting his lean body to perfection. One arm was folded behind his head and his legs were crossed at the ankles. He seemed perfectly at ease as though he often relaxed on her bed.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah, I’m warm now.”

“You were in there so long, I thought you’d fallen asleep.”

She glanced away, embarrassed. “I did. I got up at five this morning for a six o’clock shift.”

He checked his watch. “It’s eight-thirty. You work longer hours than I do.”

“For two dollars and thirteen cents an hour, too.”

“What? You’re kidding. He doesn’t pay you minimum wage?”

“No. I’m supposed to make up the difference in tips, which on days that don’t have a snowstorm, I usually do. Today, from four o’clock until I left, I made a whopping seven dollars.”

“That’s a crime.”

She shrugged, not disagreeing. “It is what it is.”

“That’s a polite way of saying it’s a shitty system, yet you’ve got no other choice, so fuck it, right?”

She grinned. “I guess so.”

He patted the empty space beside his big body in her full-size bed. Ordinarily, it seemed roomy, except with a six-foot-three, two hundred pounds plus, former NFL quarterback in it, no so much. In fact, it looked tiny. Hesitantly, she inched forward and perched on the mattress edge, then froze.

Lucy, her traitorous fickle cat, lay reclined on her side like the queen of Sheba, the length of her spine pressed to his side, the picture of pure contentment as Kyle scratched her behind the ears.

“Oh, my God!”

“What?”

“My cat likes you.”

He arched a brow. “You sound surprised.”

She giggled.

“I don’t get what’s funny. She’s a sweetie.”

That made her laugh outright. What’s more, she bent over double, roaring harder as she heard him say, “Pay Mama no mind, pretty girl. She’s had a long, hard day.”

“She’s got you fooled,” she replied, watching as her cat turned her head and her green gaze swept over her with the usual icy disdain. “Don’t be taken in by that pretty face; though I love her, she is the cat from hell.”

“This gorgeous creature? I don’t believe it.”

Lucy flicked her tail at the compliment as if she understood him perfectly. Evidently, she’d found a soulmate in Kyle.

Sadly, and with a touch of envy, Dixie shook her head. “I picked her up on the street. Well, it was more like I opened the door and coaxed her up with tuna because she wouldn’t let me touch her. She was pitiful: scrawny, half-starved, cold, and wet. I couldn’t leave her there.”

“Then she fell in love with you for saving her, and became this sweet kitty. Right? Listen to her purr.”

“No. I welcomed her into my home and gave her my dinner for the night. When she was warm and her belly was full, she changed on a dime. The sweet, pitiful kitty disappeared. It was an act, like a demon luring you in, then snatching you up and carrying you off to the bowels of hell.”

His chuckle was a deep enthralling rumble that clearly had the same stirring effect on Lucy as it did her because she closed her feline eyes in contentment and lifted her chin for him to scratch underneath, which he obligingly did. “I don’t believe a word of it.”

“Just you wait. Oh, and her name is Lucy because at first, I couldn’t get close enough to see that she had girl, not boy parts. Still, the male name I’d already dubbed her with seemed appropriate. So, instead of changing it completely, I shortened it. Kyle, meet Lucifer, or Lucy for short, my living penance for all of my past sins here on Earth.”

His chuckle expanded into a full laugh. If it had been her, and her two-faced, multiple personality possessed cat had deigned to sit beside her and she’d laughed, Lucy would have hissed at the very least. At her worst, without a warning, she would have left claw marks in her chest as she’d leaped off, then with her tail stuck straight in the air to show her displeasure, would have sauntered away to find a less noisy and more cooperative bed.

“Why don’t you get comfortable,” he said as he again patted the vacant spot beside him.

She eyed it dubiously. Cuddling up to his warm body was extremely tempting, except it was a really bad idea. Yet she couldn’t sit there all night. Tentatively, she laid down, stretching out on the edge of the mattress at arm’s length from him.

“Dixie,” he said softly. “I won’t bite. Might as well get comfortable, we’re snowbound for a while.”

“You don’t need to stay and babysit me. I’m a big girl used to being on my own.”

“I’m not leaving you here with no power and no way to get to shelter. If we didn’t already have over eight inches out there, I’d take you to my place. I’ve got fireplaces, plenty of chopped wood, and a generator. Unfortunately, I live twenty minutes out on Highway 25, so that wouldn’t be a smart move. That road gets impassable, not usually to my Expedition, but because it turns into a parking lot with all the folks trying to get home when they should have stayed put.” He gave her a knowing look.

“Like me?”

“Mm-hm. I couldn’t believe you were walking in this storm.”

She scooted back, propping her shoulders against the headboard. “Les offered to drive me.”

“So he said.”

“You went by the diner. Why?”

“I was checking on a certain stubborn waitress I know.”

“You couldn’t have known I was at work.”

“When aren’t you at work?”

Her mouth kicked up on one side. This was true.

“What happened to college? Didn’t you have a scholarship to UNC?”

She looked at him, surprised he knew that. “I did; sadly, it only covered tuition.”

“Didn’t you qualify for financial aid?”

Not wanting to mention that her aid didn’t come through because her mother hadn’t filed the paperwork on time, she shrugged. Mama had said that she would, but had gotten sick. In the end, Dixie had to come home to take care of her. As the depression worsened, one semester off had turned into several, and once she got a job full time at Pete’s instead of only summers and holidays, her mama started to depend on her and the money she brought in.

“It’s a long story,” she said with a sigh.

“We’ve got all night, and all day tomorrow by my guess.”

Twisting to face him, she demanded to know, “Why are you being so nice? You weren’t very happy with me the last time we spoke.”

“Yeah,” he answered softly. “About that. You’ll learn as you get to know me better that I have a bit of a temper, though it burns out quickly. I was over my snit by the time the painting arrived on Monday.”

“A two-day snit isn’t so quick if you ask me.”

“What do you call one that lasts twelve years?” he asked pointedly.

She felt her face flush as she gave him a sad smile. “Touché. I’m sorry about that. I should have given you the opportunity to explain, but what I heard was pretty damning.”

“Which I realized by Monday.”

“And what about you?”

“What?”

“Don’t you think you owe me an apology?”

“For what?”

Her jaw dropped. Was he kidding? “Kyle, you called me a snob.”

“You are a snob, baby; however, I’ve decided to help you grow out of that.”

She choked. Had she heard him right? “Look around you. I live in a shit hole, own nothing more than what you see, and I walk everywhere or take the bus because I had to sell my car to pay past due bills, including a student loan for a degree I wasn’t able to complete. I live off tips that are never guaranteed. A bad night means I eat ramen noodles, a good one means I can afford to buy beef. Steak, shrimp, champagne, not to mention fresh fruit and vegetables are all beyond my budget, despite working sixty hours a week. What the hell could I possibly have to be snobbish about?”

He rolled to his side, which prompted Lucy to let out an irritated meow and jump down. His fingers curled around her neck to bring her face close. In the dark, she saw his stern, serious expression. “First off, take a deep breath and watch your tone. Second, the very definition of a snob is someone who has an exaggerated view of a high social position, yours is in reverse. Not the usual way of it, and as you say, it is what it is.”

“So fuck it?” Feeling her anger rise inside her, she tried to pull away.

“Third, you threw steak in my face like I dine on it every meal and champagne as though I guzzle it following a workout. A few months ago, I spent several weeks in a small town in Indonesia that was ravaged by an earthquake. Believe me, babe, I’d have been happy with a hot cup of ramen.”

Great day in the morning! He was right. She had done that, throwing his wealth in his face. And she’d forgotten all the good things people had told her about his charitable works; it hadn’t sunk in until now. Her resentment was so ingrained, it had rolled out of her spontaneously. That she hadn’t said caviar and lobster made her feel only slightly better. Before she could formulate an appropriate apology for being a real bitch, he continued setting her straight.

“I’m going to show you that just because people have money, doesn’t mean they are looking down on you, or others that have less. Quite often, they are the people who are trying to right the social wrongs and have the power to do so.”

“Kyle, I’m—”

He cut her off, not quite done with his set-down.

“I’ve seen shades of the sweet Dixie I knew in school, and I’m determined to dig her out from beneath all the crap you’ve suffered, because I think we have something here worth exploring. And as we move forward with that, I’ll remind you of something I told you in a tent not so long ago.”

She frowned. He’d said a lot that day. “What’s that?”

“That if you were mine, I wouldn’t hesitate to take you over my knee to set you straight.”

That made her bristle and all thoughts of apologies—and in the spirit of the season, good will toward men, particularly this man who thought he could actually spank her—went out the window.

“Are you done?”

“There’s that tone again. We’ll work on that too.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I do, because there’s something between us, and I think once we get to a good place on numbers one through three, you’ll agree with me on number four.”

“Um, I don’t recall you mentioning number four.”

“That this is something that is worth exploring.”

“Kyle…”

“Sh,” he murmured, propping up on an elbow as he pulled her closer. “Number five is kiss me. I’ve been waiting a long time to have you in my arms like this, and I’m ready to take full advantage.”

With his tempting lips only a hairsbreadth away, and the beautiful blue of his eyes twinkling warmly in the candlelight, she was mesmerized and too tired to fight it anymore. She edged forward the fraction needed to meet his.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, then touched his mouth to hers. Caressing softly at first, the taste of him kindled the wanting inside her. His response was just as quick, and the kiss turned smoldering all at once. His arms enfolded her and crushed her to his chest as he rolled her first on top of him, then he flipped her so that she lay beneath him. His big, hard body pressed her down into her lumpy mattress right over the spring that she tried desperately at night to avoid. Half of her wanted to shift to a different spot, but the other half—the part molded to his front—was in heaven and she opened to him, inviting his searching tongue inside. His hand remained around her neck, holding her still for his possession as he fed greedily from her mouth and she loved every minute of it.

She’d had schoolgirl dreams of kissing him for two years, then when she thought he was a douche like his friend, those dreams had changed. He’d become the bad boy who fulfilled all her naughty fantasies, rather than the gentle, sweet lover of her na?ve youth. And she’d be damned if reality wasn’t better than fantasy, because the intensity of his demanding kisses took her breath away. As did the long sweep of his hand up her thigh where her robe had come open as he’d rolled her beneath him.

It skimmed higher, to her hip and around to her bottom. She gasped as his fingers rubbed over her skin, reminding her she wasn’t wearing a stitch under her robe.

“Easy,” he murmured against her lips when she tried to twist her head and protest. “I’ve waited forever for you, Dixie, let me kiss you for a few moments more. Then, if you want, we’ll stop.”

“Promise?”

“Always. In this one thing, you always have control.”

She stiffened. Only one thing? What did that mean?

“Don’t think, feel.”

His mouth returned to take fiery possession, his tongue delving inside again to steal her breath along with her sound judgement. Her body responded to his as it called to her, and she answered, as she had long dreamed, with everything she had to give.

Fingers at the knot of her robe broke through her lust-numbed mind. “Dixie?”

She knew what he wanted. “Yes,” she breathed.

“You want more?”

“More.”

A slight tug and her robe parted, his palm gliding flat over her belly and up her ribs, to curl beneath one breast. He paused again. “Pretty soon we’ll be past the point of no return for me. Say so now and we’ll stop.”

“You wouldn’t stop later?”

He growled. “I would, darlin’, but it won’t be easy.”

“Don’t stop, please. I’ve wanted you forever, too.”

“Thank fuck,” he growled as his thumb arced up and over her nipple, which pebbled tightly at his touch. She arched, pressing her breast more fully into his palm as his tongue licked into the warm recesses of her mouth and his hard thigh found its place between her own. The rough denim abrading the tender skin of her inner thighs had her fingers curling into the thick muscles of his shoulders, as she hung on.

His thumb and forefinger rolling her nipple as he ground his thigh against her mound was almost too much. “Kyle,” she called as desire bubbled up and out of her.

Sliding from his shoulders down his back, her hands fisted in his shirt, tugging to get it off, needing to feel his skin. He moved suddenly, clasping her wrists with his strong fingers and pressing them into her pillow on either side of her head. Her eyes flew up to meet his.

“I’m hanging on by a thread, baby. No touching or this will be over much too soon.”

“But…”

“Keep your hands where I put them. Tonight, this is about you.”

“I can’t touch you?”

“Not now, unless you want to get off with my tongue this first time, instead of my cock. I feel like the eager kid you knew in school. I’m not proud of it, but I’ve wanted you too damn long and when I get inside you, I can’t guarantee slow. So what’s it to be? Touch me and get my tongue, or be a good girl, do as I say, and get my cock?”

“Your cock,” she whispered.

“Say again?”

“I want your cock,” she replied, with only a slight degree more volume, not believing she had said it out loud. Her body, not her brain, was making the decisions right now, and it wanted him moving deep and hard inside her. Without her brain’s approval, she heard her mouth repeating her demand again. “I want to come with your cock inside me.”

He groaned a barely intelligible, “Fuck me,” before clearing his throat and ordering huskily, “Then be my good girl and leave these hands here. Don’t move them until I say so.”

“Okay—” Her reply was muffled as he kissed her fiercely again. Then, he was up on his knees above her, pulling his shirt over his head. His powerful chest was revealed, and his sexy flat abs. He was as gorgeous as she always knew he would be. Her fingers twitched and crept to the edge of the pillow, wanting to touch all that masculine beauty, so badly.

“Uh, uh,” he warned, moving her hands back in place. “Clasp them together, or grip the pillow tight, but keep them where they are.”

“Do you know how you much you’re tormenting me?” she asked as she fisted her hands, gripping the linen with her nails.

He didn’t grin or tease this time, simply nodded his head, which sent a swath of glossy sandy hair falling across his forehead. It was all she could do not to reach up and brush it back.

“I do, because my dick is hard enough to drive nails into a steel beam and the ache to be inside of you is unbearable. One day soon, I’ll let you play all you want—not tonight.” His lips brushed hers, then along her chin and slowly down the side of her neck, lingering at the pulse point. It felt wonderful and a low keening wail escaped her throat as he bent to her breast and latched onto a pebbled tip, sucking gently.

“Kyle, please,” she pleaded breathlessly. “Come inside me and ease this torment for both of us.”

“Patience, baby, I need to taste you a bit more.”

His mouth moved to her other nipple and drew it in as his hand trailed down her belly to the small patch of curls on her mound. Neatly trimmed in front because she didn’t like totally bare, or the retro seventies look—uh, no!—she kept the lips and inner folds clean-shaven. She wasn’t sure why she did all that work when she hadn’t had a lover in a long time, but right now, she was darn glad she’d kept it up.

He paused to play, combing his fingers through the springy curls as he blew a stream of air over her mound, ruffling the coppery coils before he moved down between her legs.

“Mm, I like the softness up top and between being as smooth as satin,” he uttered as his fingers stroked her intimately. “And you’re very wet. I’ve got to taste you now, darlin’.”

He slid his thumbs through her slickness and bared her clit, blowing lightly again.

“Yes, please,” she groaned, arching her hips toward his mouth.

With infinite slowness, his tongue circled her there for only a moment, before gliding down to test her wetness. His fingers circled her opening, then one pressed inward, stretching her neglected channel that hadn’t known a human touch other than her own for many, many months. The vibrator in her nightstand drawer didn’t count, nor should it. Kyle touching, licking, and driving her mad with pleasure was infinitely better, and she quickly felt the pressure of an orgasm begin to build inside her.

When he added a second finger and moved deeper, his tongue re-engaged her clit, flicking over it fast, then ringing it slowly, before he sucked it between his lips. She couldn’t remain still anymore and clutched at his hair, pulling him in closer.

“Dixie.” Her name reverberating along her sensitized skin made her moan. “Where are your hands supposed to be?”

She growled with frustration, as she lifted them and this time tucked them under the pillow.

“Move them again, and you’ll earn yourself a spanking.”

Was he serious? Wide-eyed, she watched as his head came up, hovering over her spread thighs and splayed pussy, his lips glistening in the candlelight.

Then, as if she’d said the words aloud, he added, “I’m absolutely serious, sweet thing.”

Staring at her, he said nothing until she laced her fingers together for good measure. He winked at her, murmuring, “Good girl,” as he went on with his tasting. How he knew what she had done when he couldn’t see, she wasn’t sure, but she didn’t care, not now. His talented tongue and sensual touch were all in the world that mattered.

When she was close again, he lifted his head. “Because you have some trouble following the rules, you’ll come once with my fingers before you get my cock.”

She grinned. “Is that supposed to be my punishment?”

“Yes.”

“All right,” she said in full agreement.

He chuckled as he added a third finger and began to finger fuck her faster, gliding deeply in and out, her inner muscles clinging to him as he withdrew almost fully, her body not wanting to let him go.

“Spread wide for me. I want to watch as you come.”

Her cheeks flushed at his bluntness, yet she did as she was told. With her outer thighs resting on the mattress and the soles of her feet touching, his avid gaze locked onto the intensely private space between her legs. He spread her further apart with one hand while his fingers pumped, twisted, and worked relentlessly. She couldn’t hold off any longer, succumbing to the need he’d built inside her. She convulsed around him, her pelvis arched, and her ass came off the bed. Her breath caught in her throat and she trembled, coming hard.

As she began to float in the delicious languor in the aftermath, she heard him murmur, “fucking beautiful,” right as he lowered his mouth over her weeping center and tasted her as he’d promised to do. His tongue delving inside almost scalded her with its heat, or perhaps it was the burning ache of anticipation, the teasing, the dozen years of fantasies that made her think so.

“Like Christmas ambrosia, sweetness,” he growled. “I could dine on your nectar all day and night.”

Thank heavens he didn’t; she would have lost consciousness from so much pleasure. Instead, he moved up her body and with a single thrust, filled her to overflowing. Kyle, she learned, who was larger than life to the world, was equally impressive between the sheets. It stung a little, since it had been a while.

“Wrap your legs around my hips, and it will be easier.”

She raised them one at a time and locked her ankles at the small of his back. Unbelievably, he sank in a fraction further, but the little bite disappeared.

“Better?”

“Much. Can I touch you now?”

“Yes, now that I’m inside you, anything goes.”

“Thank you,” she groaned as she wrapped her arms around his neck and enfolded him with all fours.

His lips hovered over hers when he said in a throaty growl, “I’m gonna fuck you now, Dixie. Hard and fast. You want slow and easy, that’ll have to wait a while.”

“I’ve been ready for twelve long years; I’ll take you any way I can have you.”

“Oh, darlin’, what you could have saved us if you’d only said so.” His mouth lowered and sealed over hers and there were no more words, only the sound of heavy breathing, skin slapping skin, and squishy noises she’d rather not admit to, as well as some grunting, and lots of moans of shared bliss.

This too was better than any dream or fantasy. He felt good, smelled great, and fucked her better than any adjective could describe. She came once more alone, then again when he was near the end, slipped his arms beneath her knees, and went deeper, faster, and made her scream his name as her third orgasm claimed her.

Lucy meowed from somewhere in the room, as Kyle roared with his own release.