Red-Hot Santa (16 page)

They both glanced at where her hand rested against his arm in order to redirect and maintain his attention.

And boy did she ever have it.

He glanced up into her eyes to find the emotion in them had shifted…but not lessened.

Damn, but she was beautiful. Everything about her was so alive, so intriguing, so very, very sexy…

Jackson’s gaze slid from her eyes to her mouth, then down to where her breasts heaved under her clingy cotton top.

“I’m up here, Savage,” she said.

If there was a slight wispiness to her voice, her steely expression didn’t show it. But he could tell she wasn’t angry at him; she felt their chemistry as intensely as he did.

And boy did he ever feel it. Merely being this close to her made him want to kiss her senseless, slide his hand up her top and down her pants, stroke her until she gasped in pure bliss…?.

He swallowed hard.

Whatever Max felt, she’d always felt to the max. Maximum Maxine is what the guys had called her. And they were right. You didn’t mess with Max unless you expected to get beaten, or to fight to the death…?.

The stupid, off-the-cuff thought shifted his thoughts back to Africa.

And brought him right back to where this all started…?.

He leveled a loaded gaze at her. “Forget it, McGuire. It’s not going to work.”

“Work? What are you talking about? What, is this some sort of game? Is that what you think?” She squinted at him. “Oh, wait. Is that what it was? You. Me. Us. A game?”

Jackson set his jaw. “Back off, Max.”

“Or else what? What can you possibly do to me that you haven’t already done?” He blinked at the catch in her voice. “Tell me, because I can’t possibly imagine anything hurting as much as this.”

Jackson felt as if she’d reached her hand directly inside his chest and tore his heart out.

“What? Surely you know your silence has been killing me? That the instant you turned away from me in Africa, it was like you had stuck your serated knife into my chest and twisted?”

He raised his hand. “Max, please…?.”

“No, Jackson. Answer me.”

What could he possibly say? That he’d been so wrapped up in his own emotions he hadn’t taken hers into consideration? Besides, what did his knowing now change except to make him feel worse than he already did? Didn’t it just reinforce the decision he’d already made?

Her expression switched from anger to…was that shock?

“Oh my God. You didn’t know, did you? You had no clue that I loved you,” she whispered.

He glanced away.

She shifted slightly. “Wow.”

Silence filled the room as he guessed she digested the information.

“You really had no idea?”

Jackson grimaced and paced away then back again. “What difference does it make, Max? This, whatever’s happening, happened, between us, it can’t go anywhere.”

She raised her hand to stop him. “Happening. Not happened. And it’s been happening since the first day we met in your grandmother’s dusty old barn.”

He stared at her, immediately transported back to that day.

“You hated my guts.”

She smiled almost sadly. “No, Jax. I loved you. And I love you still.”

Was it possible for one man’s heart to hold so much emotion? So much pain? So much confusion?

He wasn’t sure. And wouldn’t have been surprised if his had burst from what he was feeling now.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” she said, sighing. “What, you think I like realizing that I’ve wasted so much time.”

She moved away from him this time, standing with her back to him. His attention was riveted to her.

“I moved from relationship to relationship, guy to guy, never realizing I unconsciously measured them all against you,” she said quietly. “Not until the last one.”

She turned toward him.

“That’s what I’m doing here, Jackson, the reason I came back to Colorado. I had to see if what Matt said was true.”

The sound of another man’s name on her lips twisted his gut. “Who in the hell is Matt?”

She gestured restlessly. “Matt, James, Bob, what does it matter? They’re all the same guy. They’re all not you.”

He tried but failed to follow her bullet train of thought. What was she saying? Was she trying to tell him she’d been with a lot of guys? He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Anyway, about Matt. He was a nice guy. They all were. He loved me. But when I couldn’t tell him I felt the same, you know what he said?”

He wasn’t sure if her question was rhetorical so he remained silent, trying to oust the image of her lying in bed with another man from his head.

“He told me he couldn’t think of anything he’d like more than to be with me. Only I wasn’t with him. Not truly.”

Jackson scratched the back of his head in irritation, then stared at her. The expression on her face was captivating; her pupils were large, her lips were slightly parted, and her breathing seemed shallow.

“He said I needed to think twice about getting involved with anyone, because obviously, I was still in love with someone else. Someone I had never gotten over. And until I did, well, it was unfair of me to lead on some other poor sucker who’d never stand a chance.”

“He was good with words, your guy Mark.”

“Matt.”

“Whatever.”

She smiled slightly, which only served to annoy him further.

“So who’s this guy you never got over then? No, wait, don’t tell me. Joe.”

“Who?”

He shook his head, his attempt at humor failing even to amuse him.

“Seriously?” she whispered.

He watched her step closer to him, completely mesmerized. What was this woman doing to him? And why was he incapable of stopping her?

“You really want to know?” she asked, standing so close to him now that when she inhaled, the tips of her breasts brushed his chest.

He tried to steel himself against her, but failed.

“No answer?”

She leaned forward, her breath mingling with his, her scent filling his nose, her mouth so damn tempting he ached with the need to kiss her…?.

“That man is you, Jackson Savage. The one I’m in love with? The one I never got over? The one I can’t move on from? You, you and…you.”

Her voice grew progressively softer so the last word was little more than a hush of air.

As if of their own volition, his fingers curved around her slender neck, the heel of his hand against her jaw, the pad of his thumb rubbing against her full bottom lip.

Then he kissed her.

Sweet heaven.

Torturous hell.

Her lips were like wine soaked plums, both in texture and potency. He appeared to have caught her off guard and she stood, transfixed as he pressed his lips against hers once, then again, tasting her with his tongue before claiming them more fully, begging for permission to enter the intoxicating depths of her mouth.

She made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan and leaned into him, her eyelids drifting closed, her hands resting against his hips as if she needed the leverage.

It was impossible to believe this was the same warrior he’d served with on the front lines. The same girl he’d grown up with.

He knew her better than anyone else in the world.

Yet he knew her not at all.

She shifted against him, rubbing against his rock hard erection and sending his blood rushing to his groin.

Just like that, the world disappeared and all that existed was her, this kiss, her body. Her love.

He closed his eyes tightly and pressed his nose against hers.

“I can’t do this,” he said.

He ordered himself to release her, to let go, but everything refused to obey.

“I don’t want this,” he continued.

She began to pull away, but he refused to let her go.

“But, damn it, I need it…”

19

MAX WAS HOPELESSLY caught somewhere between bliss and grief. She felt raw, exposed and so very vulnerable. The last of her defenses were down and she had no clue how to put them back up against this one man who threatened to destroy her entirely.

He wanted this.

Sex? Was he talking strictly sex?

He’d remained so impassively silent during her explanation, she didn’t know what to think.

And right this minute, given the way he was kissing her, his hands roaming over her body, she was finding it impossible to think of anything else at all.

His mouth demanded compliance and she gave it.

His hands caressed her breasts and she shivered.

His eyes looked into hers and her lungs refused air. Her heart threatened to break clean in two.

Somewhere she drew the strength to push him away. “Please, don’t.”

His expression was dark as she wiped her damp lips with the back of her hand.

“What’s the matter, Max? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

He took her hand and pressed it against his hard erection.

She left it there for a long moment, imagining she could feel his pulse in the long, solid length of him.

Finally, she jerked back.

“No. That’s not what I wanted, Jackson.”

“Then what
do
you want? Because right now I’m having a hell of a time figuring it out.”

“Honesty,” she whispered. “I want honesty.”

She wanted her best friend back.

“Well, baby, this is as honest as it gets with me.”

He drew her to him and kissed her hard.

Need and fear twisted and turned within her. Not fear of him, but fear of herself. She wanted, needed, him in a way she’d never needed another. But he’d just told her he didn’t want anything beyond this, this moment. The passion.

While she wanted the whole nine yards.

She tried to pull away, or thought she did…?. Instead, she discovered she was hungrily returning his attentions, er mouth wildly kissing his, her hands boldly grasping and clutching…?.

Pure physical need saturated her every cell.

Jackson shoved his hand up her shirt, cupping her breast through her bra, fastening his mouth to her nipple through the fabric before sliding his thumb under the bottom and lifting until his tongue met with the ultra sensitive bit.

Max reached for his jeans, unable to unfasten them quick enough as he did the same with hers. Then he was lifting her to the table. She began to wrap her legs around him but instead he laid her back. She moved to object…until she felt his tongue on her inner thigh.

The air rushed from her lungs.

Oh…

The word wound around her mind in one long, unbroken strand as fire licked along her skin along with flicks of his tongue. His fingers lightly probed her then opened her damp flesh to the cool air, causing delicious shivers to trickle over her body. But they were nothing compared to the tidal wave of sensation she experienced when he ran his tongue again her clit.

She gasped, her back arching off the table.

Jackson splayed his hand against her trembling stomach, holding her still as he fastened his lips around her and suckled.

She came instantly in a series of intense, womb wracking shudders he drew out by continuing his attentions.

Then before the last one subsided, he was sheathed and sliding into her.

Yes…?.

JACKSON’S DESIRE TO please Max knew no bounds. Even in his heightened sense of awareness—not only of her sexually, but of his own need to keep himself emotionally distant—he wanted to bring her a pleasure she hadn’t known before. Wanted to watch her mouth bow open, her eyes go dark. He wanted to listen to her moan low in the back of her throat as if trying to contain it but failing.

But when it came to emotional distance, all bets were off the instant he dipped into her hot heat. Sex and emotion seemed to fuse with each other until he swore his heart was about to burst with…

Love?

Without a familiar compass to help guide him, he had no idea he was so close to coming. All he could do was grasp her hips and slide into her again, giving himself over to the incredible sensation that joined him with her.

What seemed like long minutes later, he cracked open his eyes to see her waching him.

Dear Lord, what had he gotten himself into…?

HOURS LATER, MAX LAY on her side in Jackson’s bed, his hot body curved against hers. She’d drifted off for a few minutes and suspected he was fully asleep now if his deep, even breathing was any indication. She really needed to get home, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. Not because she was content, but because she was afraid if she left the bed, she might find her way back to it.

There were moments over the past couple of hours when she swore Jackson had opened up to her, when she’d felt a connection to him unlike any before. Then he’d get that shuttered look again and her heart would break.