Santa Reads Romance (7 page)

May squeaked, the sound distorted by the candy in her mouth. “Hunter, you shouldn't—”

His mouth sizzled over hers.

There really was no other way to describe it.

A hot flame shot down the center of her body to her toes. Which began to wiggle.

May moaned into his mouth. There was only one other man who had ever made her toes wiggle… and not nearly this much.

Hunter removed one of his hands from the wall and cupped the back of her head, holding her to him. He strengthened the kiss, probing between her slightly parted lips with his tongue. Sinking deeper and deeper with every delving thrust, he forced her to open her mouth wider, to accept him…

He plunged into her with rough expertise, neither too naive nor too practiced. His movements were honest and raw. He explored her thoroughly, leaving her totally breathless and wanting more Hunter.

May thought he tasted sweeter than any candy, and she clutched at his shoulders to bring him closer.

This time it was Hunter who groaned. His other hand left the wall to capture her waist, clasping her tight against him.

She didn't know how long the kiss went on but when they came up for air, May was feeling somewhat disoriented. She placed her palm against his chest to steady herself.

He was breathing heavily, but was curiously silent. Warily she glanced up at him.

His eyes glimmered with heat and… something akin to mischief. He quirked his brow in a cocky way, then slowly opened his mouth.

The yellow M&M dangled impudently from his tongue.

“Hunter!”

He grinned roguishly at her.

“That was a dirty trick!”

“Mmm… best M&M I ever had,” he drawled. He made a great show of savoring the candy, even to the point of licking his lips when he was done.

May's face flamed.

He chuckled, leaning back into her. “Seconds?” he asked innocently.

“No!” She shoved his chest, pushing him away.

“You mean you don't like the heated press of my masculine lips against the soft fullness of your ripened mouth?” He spoke from behind her.

“Don't you dare!” she gritted out, refusing to look at him.

“Surely you felt the savage intensity of my raging hunger as I claimed you with the brand of my desire?”

“You are horrible!” She walked to the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.

His low laughter followed her.

May winced. The truth was she had felt all those things.

She splashed cold water on her face.

“
W
hat's wrong with Benny?”

Hunter had just come out of his nightly shower and when he bent down next to her, May caught a whiff of soap and after-shave. Old Spice. Billy's choice, she knew; Hunter was definitely not the type to buy Old Spice.

For some reason, the spicy scent reminded her that it was Christmas Eve.

She delicately inhaled more of the scent. It brought her back to her childhood when she had lived by the coast in a small New England fishing village. A lot of the men had worn Old Spice back then, and she rather liked the old-fashioned scent.

The word old-fashioned brought to mind how gentlemanly Hunter had been these last few nights, letting her shower first, giving her best crack at the hot water, which had a tendency to suddenly give out.

She adjusted her nightgown as she sat cross-legged on the floor.

“He has a tummy ache.” She continued to rub the dachshund's belly.

Benny lay on his back, short feet up in the air, in what May was beginning to think of as his dead cockroach position. The wiener dog's expression was a carefully balanced blend of ecstasy at what she was doing— combined with the sad “I'm a poor puppy” face which instantly produced a feeling of guilt in humans.

“How did he get an upset stomach?” Hunter had the nerve to ask that seriously.

May threw him a look. “How many pieces of apple did you give him today?”

A dull bronze colored his cheekbones. “I… ah… don't remember.”

Benny gave a little whimper right on cue.

Hunter was consumed with remorse. “Hey, there, fellah.” His hand joined hers on the dog's belly, rubbing. “Will he be all right?”

With all the attention, Benny was in puppy heaven and trying hard not to show it, while the man leaning over him had an expression of concern which only comes from an owner of a beloved pet. May smiled inwardly. Hunter was as good as gotten.

“Yes, but you shouldn't keep tossing him food; he probably can't eat so many strange combinations.”

Hunter nodded, continuing to rub the dog's stomach with her. Every now and then their hands brushed against each other.

“How come you didn't do this for me when I had a tummy ache?” Hunter murmured next to her ear.

“Because you don't keep my feet warm at night,” she replied without thinking.

May realized her mistake as soon as she saw those dark lashes lift languorously and those silvery eyes met her own.

There was such a frankly sexual look in them that her breath stopped in her throat.

“I'd be happy to keep you warm at night.”

He did it. He spoke in a husky murmur.

And it sounded exactly the way she had imagined a perfectly executed husky murmur would sound. It even sent shivers down her spine.

He leaned toward her just a bit, and May knew he was going to kiss her. Instinctively she moved her head back a few inches.

His hand came over hers on top of Benny.

His other hand cupped the back of her neck, bringing her up against his descending mouth in a seamless move. She opened her mouth to attempt to object, but Hunter was already there.

His lips covered hers in a gentle press that was somehow persuasive at the same time. The tender act turned May into.… a bowl of mush.

Her mouth softened beneath his, returning his kiss.

Like any red-blooded man, Hunter took this as encouragement. He went from softly coaxing to “seize-the-moment fire” in the blink of an eye.

May gasped. What were they doing? She began to pull back.

“Hunter, stop!” She tried to speak between the molten imprint of his ongoing kisses. It was almost impossible; the man was definitely charged up.

“We shouldn't be doing this,” she managed to croak just before he swept inside her mouth, staking a devastating claim. She moaned in response.

“Why not?” he whispered a few seconds later, not stopping in the least.

The question had been rhetorical, but May attempted to respond any way. “Be-because… you're only doing this because you're hungry! You're substituting—”

He chuckled, a low rumble against her lips. “I'm
hungry
all right.” His mouth moved along her jawline to her throat.

May sucked in her breath. That was a very sensitive area. She closed her eyes, desperately trying again. “You see? You admitted it. You've been complaining how starving—”

He stopped. Raising his head, he looked at her, desire and something akin to amusement lighting his features.

With his lips a mere heartbeat away from hers, he purred, “I'm hungry for May.”

Then his mouth seized hers and that was the end of that objection.

How did the man kiss like that?
May was devastated and knew it. Especially since her toes were wiggling like mad under the hem of her nightgown.

His lips moved back to her throat, and May actually arched her throat to give him better access.

Hunter breathed in her flowery scent and went as hard as a brick.

Earlier, in the bathroom, he had opened her jar of floral scented cream and had inhaled deeply. It had not had the same effect on him and he realized that it needed the added factor of May. Her personal, sexy scent which had been driving him crazy since that first night.

His mouth closed over the spot of tender skin under her ear and he felt her tremble. She was responding to him.

“
Hunter
… ” It was the sound of a woman in the throes of desire; however, there was the faintest hint of underlying protest.

He did not want her to stop him. Not now. Not ever. C. Hunter Douglas wanted May “Forrester” Bea.

So, clever strategist that he was, he decided to make absolutely sure of her compliance.

He was going to pull all the stops out and completely test his new theory. He was going to follow the directions that had been handed to him in the books he'd read. He was going to make love to her with
romance.

He leaned over and, gathering her in his arms, he stood, without breaking the kiss. It was not an easy thing to do from a sitting position, but Hunter was a strong, large man. He hoped the small pop he heard in his back had been the settling of his joints and not a disc compressing.

Benny gave one bark of protest at the loss of his belly rub, then gave up, apparently recognizing when it was pointless for a dog to bid for attention.

Hunter carried her to the bed, gently depositing her in its center. He immediately came over her, his silk boxers sliding against the flannel of her gown.

His mouth fused with hers as he laced his fingers through her hair and kissed her senseless.

May's hands reached for his bare shoulders. They were muscular and hard, yet so very warm.… And the way the man kissed should be illegal!

He had carried her to the bed, actually carried her to the bed!

Her toes wiggled.

Hunter's knee wedged between her flannel-clad legs. He rubbed his thigh back and forth in a suggestive slide, inching higher and higher. The flannel of her gown pulled taut with his erotic motions and she gasped into his mouth.

How could she come to her senses when he wasn't giving her time to think?

One of his hands moved to the front of her gown and he cupped her breast, flicking his thumb slowly back and forth across the flannel-covered nipple. It hardened instantly.

He covered the jutting peak with his mouth, capturing it with his teeth.

When May felt the damp heat of his mouth through the material, a strangled sob seem to escape from her throat. Without thinking, she sank her fingers in the rich thickness of his mahogany hair. Drawing him closer.

He began to unbutton the front placket of her gown.

The feel of the tips of his fingers against the soft skin of her breast suddenly made May realize what she was doing. “Hunter,” she choked, “what— what are we doing?”

Hunter paused. She was starting to balk. Now what? Time out for following the directions, he realized.

“You feel this, sweetheart?” He spoke against her lips as he stroked his fingers around her breast.

May closed her eyes and nodded.

“I'm stroking my hand against your velvet skin— here. And here.” He brushed her lips with his mouth. “Does it feel good?” he whispered.

“Yes… oh, yes, Hunter, it does,” she whispered back breathlessly.

Hmmm… it seemed to be working. “Do you know what I'm going to do next?”

She watched him, eyes open wide. Slowly she shook her head, indicating she had no idea.

“I'm going to dip my hot tongue into your luscious mouth and then… ” He paused purposely.

May swallowed. My god, the man was dangerous. And he was very good with dialogue. “And then?” she asked faintly.

The corner of his mouth lifted in a roguish grin. “And then, lovely May, I'm going to
drink.
”

She gasped, lips parting, and Hunter did exactly as he said he would. He delved into her. And drank. May writhed beneath him, caught up in the sensual storm he was creating.

He reached down and methodically lifted her nightgown inch by inch up and over her head. She wore nothing underneath. When the entire six-foot length of his flesh pressed against her, heavy and hot, she sighed into his mouth.

Hunter ran the palms of his hands over the curves of her body, marveling at how exquisite the touch of her skin was. He hadn't stopped to get a thorough look, but he had seen enough.

May was beautiful.

He expected she would be because… well, she had had that effect on him right from the beginning. In his eyes, she would always be beautiful.

He took her breast into his mouth and she arched up against him, a small, sexy moan of pleasure escaping her lips. The feminine sound shook him to his core.

“Hunter!”

“Easy, May… I'm just tasting you.” He rolled his tongue around the jutting peak. “And teasing you.” He flicked the nubbin several times, causing her to clutch at his shoulders.

“And taking you inside the burning dampness of my fiery mouth so I can draw on you with an untold hunger,” he improvised.

May blinked. An untold hunger? That line needed a good editor. But then he drew on her voraciously, and in the next instant she didn't care what he was saying.

It was what he was
doing
that held her interest. And what he was doing was sending her over the roof. His hands were caressing her and molding her. Stroking and rubbing and stirring her up with each delicious sweep of his fingers.

Her palms found their way down his contoured back and of their own accord slipped under the elastic band of his shorts.

But no further.

May suddenly comprehended that there was only the thin silk of his boxers between the two of them.

And that item of clothing had a convenient slit in it.

May swallowed nervously. She couldn't do this! There was a very good reason why she couldn't do this. Suddenly scared, she desperately searched her brain for an excuse,
any
excuse that would…

She had it.

Grabbing a hank of his thick hair, she pulled his head up. Glazed silvery eyes tried to focus on her. “We can't do this, Hunter.”

He stared at her, frozen to the spot. Then he nodded, as if he understood what she was saying. “It's okay— I'll deal with the fact that you're a writer.”

May's eyes darkened. “No, you numbskull! I'm not talking about that. I mean we can't do this because we don't have… protection.” There. That seemed an excellent reason. The best reason. She was very proud of herself.

Dazed, Hunter paused, his kiss-swollen lips parting a little.

The poor thing.