His Christmas Present (12 page)

I loved you?

Christmas Past

The room had
cooled in the night, but the thick duvet was heavy and warm, and Megan felt
toasty and content with Dion curled around her, his chest to her back, his arm
tight around her waist.

It had been an
amazing night. True to his word, he hadn’t let her sleep longer than an hour at
a stretch before waking her with kisses and proceeding to show her the delights
of yet another lovemaking session. They’d had sex every way she could think of
and a few ways more, on the carpet, her sitting on the chest of drawers, even
in the bath halfway through the night, the water slopping over the sides.

Sometimes he took
her hard and fast, sometimes slow and languorous. It had been a blissful,
wonderful lesson in love that she couldn’t believe had happened all in one
night. It was as if she’d grown up—as if she finally understood the real
purpose of lovemaking.

But now the sun had
begun to rise, spilling its light through the gap in the curtains, and soon
Dion would have to go.

She bit her lip.
She was
not
going to cry. Every time he’d kissed her and slid inside
her, she’d told herself it was only for the one night. And she’d made the most
of it, thoroughly enjoying being with him at last. She was grateful for the
fact that he’d shown her what sex should really be like. And yet now he’d leave,
and she’d have to get on with her life knowing what she’d be missing.

There are
plenty more fish in the sea,
she told herself fiercely—Dion wasn’t the only great lover in the world.
But deep down she knew his bedroom skills weren’t what had made this so
special. She loved him. She’d loved him since she was fifteen—maybe even before
then, and she’d loved him all these years, even though they’d been apart.

Realistically she
knew it must be in her head—she’d clung to a childish crush that had no
foundation in real love. And she wasn’t particularly a romanticist—she’d never
been given to flowery declarations of fate and meant-to-be. And yet she
couldn’t shake the feeling that meeting Dion in Prague
had
been fate. As
if when they’d parted, they’d remained joined by an invisible thread that had
eventually drawn them back together again. A gut feeling told her they were meant
to be together.

But it wasn’t
going to happen.

She knew he’d
enjoyed himself. But she didn’t know what he’d say if she declared her feelings
for him. Yes, she could say she loved him, that she’d be prepared to move to
England for him and would happily spend the rest of her life with him. But she
remembered the look on his face when he’d spoken about Lauren—impatience, mixed
with irritation. He didn’t want a fawning woman hanging onto his coattails
trying to tie him down with talk of babies and marriage. He wanted what she’d
given him—fun and sex, light hearted and with no strings attached. She’d known
that when she went to bed with him. She couldn’t change it now.

He was stirring
behind her, and he kissed her ear before he rolled over and padded toward the
bathroom.

She sat up,
keeping the duvet around her, and moved to the edge of the bed. Depression
settled over her, but she knew she had to hide it when he came out. She wanted
him to have good memories of this night, and she didn’t want it to end on a bad
note.

Outside, the snow
had started falling again. It had stopped for a while, but now the tiny white
flakes descended slowly past the window in the early light, settling thickly on
the sill. What a strange day it had been. As if Santa had spirited them away to
a wonderland somewhere, removed from the problems and realities of life.

Behind her the
door shut and Dion’s feet sounded on the carpet. Emotion welled inside her in
spite of her wish to keep it in, and she had to bite her lip to stop herself
from crying.

The bed dipped,
and then he put his hands on her shoulders. Gently but firmly he pulled her
backward until she lay across the bed clutching the duvet to her as the cold
air wafted across her.

“Hey,” he said,
upside down above her.

“Hey.” She forced
her sadness away and smiled. “Good morning.”

“It’s an excellent
morning.” He kissed her, an upside-down Spiderman kiss, his nose brushing her
chin as his lips played across hers. “And it’s still early.”

“You have to get
ready for your meeting,” she scolded.

“Not yet.” He kissed
her again. “I hoped you might have time for one more…” He thought about how to
phrase it.

“Shag?”

He laughed. “How
romantic. I was going to say ‘dalliance.’”

“That would fit if
we lived in the eighteen fifties.”

“It fits now.” He
kissed her eyelids. “I’ve enjoyed dallying with you.”

“Dilly-dallying,”
she murmured as his hands crept beneath the duvet to her breasts.

“All the way.” He
swept his tongue into her mouth and she moaned as he cupped her breasts and ran
his thumbs across her nipples. He lifted his head and pushed back the duvet. “I
love your nipples.”

“Why thank you.
They love you too.”

“They’re a
beautiful colour—like a sunset, all dusky rose.”

“Jeez, Dion. Are
you going to write me a poem?”

“Maybe.” He rubbed
his nose against hers. “And they’re so soft, like they’re made of velvet. Until
I do this.” He leaned over her, took one in his mouth and sucked.

“Ah…” She clutched
his chest and scored it lightly with her nails.

“And this,” he
continued, and moved his mouth over to the other nipple to suck it before
lifting his head triumphantly. “There. All tight now.”

He kissed between
her breasts, then down her ribcage. She only realised where he was going when
he moved forward on the bed and lifted the duvet over his head.

“Dion!”

He chuckled and
kissed down her pubic hair before burying his mouth in her, and she gasped out
loud.
Well, two can play at that game
. His erection stood only inches
from her lips, looking rather eager to join in, so she grasped it and stroked
him a few times before guiding him forward.

She licked the
drops that had formed on the head, teased the opening with her tongue, then opened
her mouth and took him inside. He groaned but didn’t stop, and she widened her
thighs as he supported himself on one hand and used the other to part her lips
and slide his fingers inside her.

It was the most
erotic thing they’d done, and she stretched out like a flower opening up to
him, like she had no secrets, and he knew everything there was to know about
her. She ran her hands up the back of his toned thighs, admired his tight
buttocks, then brought her hands forward to play with him, to cup his balls and
stroke him as she took him deeper inside her mouth.

She knew she was
getting to him when his hips started to move, and she tipped back her head and
let him set the pace. Her orgasm hovered, but she wanted him to come with her.
He gave small movements at first, obviously worried about going too far, but
when she held his hips and took him deep inside her mouth to show him how far
he could go, he groaned and deepened his thrusts.

His fingers and
tongue coaxed her to a climax, and she tightened her hands on his hips as the
waves of the orgasm began deep inside her. He kept his mouth buried in her,
sucking hard as his thrusts quickened, and then his body stiffened and the
first spurts of his warm, silky fluid slid down her throat. She swallowed, her
own body pulsing with pleasure, and all she knew was that she loved him, and
the thought of him doing this to any other woman, and of any other woman doing
this for him, made her want to cry.

Spent and gasping,
he lifted himself off the bed and turned her, and they collapsed back onto the
pillows.

“Fucking hell,” he
said. “My heart’s going faster than Usain Bolt’s after the hundred metres.”

She chuckled. “A great
cardiovascular workout.”

“No kidding.” He
kissed her forehead, and then, as she raised her head, kissed her lips, a long,
slow kiss that warmed her from the inside out.

Then he pulled a
face. “Yuk. I can taste myself.”

“You can’t
complain. You started it.”

“I absolutely can
complain. I didn’t expect it. I’ve never done that before.”

“No?” That pleased
her.

“You took me by
surprise.” He wrapped his arms around her. “Again.”

She wasn’t sure
what he meant by that, but he looked content, so she snuggled up against him.

They lay there
like that for a while, resting, talking softly. She sang to him, running
through a catalogue of songs and playing Name That Tune with him, seeing if he
could guess them in half a dozen notes. But gradually the sun rose higher and
Dion sighed, and she knew he was thinking about going.

“What time’s your
meeting?” she asked.

“Two o’clock. I’ve
got a bit of time yet, but I need to practise my speech.”

She pushed herself
up. “You want to practise on me?”

He raised an
eyebrow. “Really? It’s pretty dull, lots of talk about delivery prices and
pallet sizes.”

“Absolutely. It’s
not about me understanding, it’s about you feeling confident.”

He smiled. “Well
okay, if you’re sure.”

So they ordered a
continental breakfast, and over toast, orange juice and coffee, he ran through
what he remembered of the speech he’d prepared. He was exactly as she knew he
would be—confident, funny and knowledgeable, answering her questions by making
her laugh without being flippant, and full of ideas for how to make the
takeover work.

“So what do you
think?” he asked as they shared the last piece of toast and marmalade.

“Fantastic.” She
smiled. “As I knew you would be. You’re so good at this, Dion. I’d say yes
anyway!”

He laughed. “Yes,
but you’re biased.”

“True.”

He pulled her into
his arms and started kissing her, but she pushed him away. “You need to get
ready.”

“I could do with a
shower,” he agreed. He took her hand and pulled her off the bed. “Come on.”

“What? Don’t you
know where it is?”

He led her over to
the bathroom. “Smart arse. If I have time for a shower, we have time for sex.”
He smacked her butt. “Get in there.”

So they showered
together, and by the time she’d turned wet and slippery in his hands, there was
no stopping him even if she’d wanted to, which she didn’t. He made love to her
one last time, pinning her from behind against the tiles and continuing to
slide his hands over her, obviously enjoying her wet skin even as he moved
inside her. And she cried as she came, silent tears that mingled with the
shower spray so he didn’t notice.

And then it was
over. They dressed and went down to the lobby, and hesitated by the revolving
front doors.

“I hope the
takeover goes well.” She tried to ignore her hammering heart. He looked
gorgeous, back to his slick business self, wrapped in his heavy coat to brace
the cold wind outside.

“I’ll text you and
let you know,” he said. He’d asked her for her number before leaving the room.

“Cool.”

He took her hands
and pulled her into his arms. She rested her cheek on his chest, wondering if
his heart thundered beneath his coat like hers. “Thank you,” he murmured, and
kissed her hair.

“Thank
you.
”

“I mean it.” He
pulled back and looked down at her seriously. “It was great to see you again,
and it’s been…” His lips curved. “Amazing.”

She smiled back.
“It has, a bit, hasn’t it?”

He cupped her face
with a hand. “You’re so beautiful.”

God, she hadn’t
expected this to be so painful. She bit her lip, not wanting to cry in front of
him. “You’d better get going,” she said, her voice husky even to herself.

But he didn’t go.
He bent his head and touched his lips to hers. They were already sensitive and
slightly swollen from a whole night of kissing, but his sweet, gentle kiss made
a tear slide down her cheek.

He didn’t say
anything though, just kissed it away before returning his lips to hers, and she
wondered whether he felt sad too.

“I’ll miss you,”
he said, confirming her thoughts as he finally lifted his head.

“Go knock ’em
dead.” She smiled brightly.

He nodded,
hesitated, then stepped back. Wrapping his coat tightly about him and plunging
his hands in his pockets, he walked through the revolving doors and off down
the Square, the snow falling on his hair and shoulders.

She went back to
her room, tidied up, packed her case, put on her coat, then sat there and
cried.

When she’d done,
she washed her face and put on some makeup, went down to the lobby and rang for
a taxi. She had another night booked at the hotel, but why stay? Dion was
leaving that day, and suddenly she just wanted to be home.