White-Hot Christmas (9 page)

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Authors: Serenity Woods

BOOK: White-Hot Christmas
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Chapter Seven

They both jumped but were too far gone to stop, and Merle clapped a hand over her mouth, trying to cover up her cries, while Neon leaned his head on her shoulder, cursing and laughing at the same time as his body continued to pulse.

“What?” he barked out as soon as he was able, hoping fervently it wasn’t his mother.

“Are you all right in there?” Jake’s concerned voice was followed by a muffled snort, presumably from Bree. “It sounds like you’re in pain!”

“Oh Christ.” Merle met Neon’s gaze, trying hard not to laugh and failing miserably.

He glared at the door. “Fuck off, Jake!”

His cousin’s laughter echoed and Neon shook his head, joining in, planting a kiss on Merle’s hair as his body finally began to calm. “I’m so sorry!”

“I’m not—I haven’t had so much fun in years.” She met his eyes, her own very warm and filled with amusement as her breathing started to slow. “Oh my God, I swear I’m not going to be able to walk for a week.” She unlinked her ankles and he let her slide down him as he withdrew carefully. She groaned as she straightened her legs, wincing.

Laughing ruefully, he pulled his shorts up then wrapped her in his arms. She lifted her head and he studied her, smiling, bending to kiss her, long and languidly, tightening his arms around her. Afterward he rested his cheek on the top of her head, kissing her hair as she snuggled up to him.

It took a moment for him to move, but eventually he said, “We’d better go out. I think they’re still out there.” He bent and picked up his shirt, pulling it on and buttoning it.

“Can you go first? I need to…you know.” She nodded at the toilet.

“Of course.” He unlocked the door. He looked over his shoulder, then came back and pressed a kiss to her lips. He hesitated.

“Go on.” She smiled. “I’m okay.”

He met her gaze. For a second he saw a hint of sadness in her eyes, like the glimpse of a coin at the bottom of a well. Then it vanished and she winked, playful once again.

Blowing her a kiss, he went out and shut the door behind him.

 

Merle waited for a moment. There was a second of silence, then Bree and Jake burst out laughing.

“Very funny,” Neon said wryly. “Bastard.”

“Neon, we could hear the two of you from down the hall, it was hardly a secret assignation.”

Merle groaned quietly.

“So what? She was giving me an early Christmas present.”

“Oh, she was giving you one all right.”

A string of expletives came from the firefighter, followed by more laughter from the other two.

“Where’s Merle?” Amusement filled Bree’s voice.

“Waiting for you two to bugger off. Come on, leave her alone and don’t embarrass her—she gets enough of that from me.” His voice grew fainter as he propelled them out of the room.

Merle sat with her face in her hands. Dear God, what was she doing? She was a guest in a strange house and she’d dragged a man off for a quickie while his mother was in the next room, for crying out loud.
Oh please, God, don’t let Julia have heard us
.

It was no good—she couldn’t stay in there all night. She had to go out at some point.

She checked herself in the mirror. Her hair was ruffled, her cheeks were flushed, her lipstick had vanished and her lips were swollen. She looked like she’d had sex. Funny that. She looked away, wincing. Hopefully it would be dark enough so nobody would notice.

She unlocked the door and opened it. She walked out, stopping immediately. Neon stood in the doorway to the bedroom, leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed. As she came out, he gave a small laugh. “I was beginning to think you’d set up camp in there.”

“I thought about it.” She blushed at the memory of what they’d done.

He smiled as her cheeks reddened. “You’re the only woman I’ve known who blushes
after
sex.” He held out a hand toward her. “Come on, tiger. Bree and Jake are ready to go.”

Oh, thank God
. Maybe they’d be able to sneak out without seeing anyone. She slipped her hand into his, her heart thumping as she thought of where the fingers grasping hers had just been. She had to stop doing this. She didn’t have the constitution to withstand the embarrassment afterward.

They walked down the hall and into the living room, and to her horror, she realised everyone had moved inside. Luckily, though, nobody else—apart from Jake and Bree, who were giggling like five-year-olds—had noticed they were missing.

“I’d better say goodbye to Jake’s parents.”

“I’ll get your sandals.” He headed for the decking.

She thanked Jake’s mum and dad for inviting her to their party and promised she’d be back the following day for Christmas dinner.

When she turned around, Julia stood there waiting to say goodbye, clutching the hand of the tall, grey-haired man who had been talking to Neon earlier that evening.
Oh no
,
surely not.

Julia smiled, eyes sparkling. “Goodbye, Merle.” She came forward to give her a kiss on the cheek. “This is my husband, Pierre, by the way.”

“Ah,” said Merle, interested even though she’d blushed furiously. “So that’s where he got his name!”

Pierre laughed, taking her hand and kissing the tips of her fingers. “And he has never forgiven me for it!” His accent was a strange blend of Kiwi and French, and his gesture showed his European heritage.

She smiled, speaking to him in French. “Are you interested in history?”

He nodded, his eyes widening at her fluency. “I’m a secondary school history teacher.”

“Oh! I’m a lecturer in medieval history at the University of Exeter.” Merle didn’t miss the way Julia elbowed her husband in the ribs, and his answering squeeze of Julia’s hand.

“Wonderful!” said Pierre enthusiastically. “Do you cover any French history?”

“Well, Crécy, Poitiers and Agincourt, obviously,” she teased, referring to the three great English victories of the Hundred Years’ War.

He laughed. “So where did you meet Neon?”

Merle opened her mouth, but their son was already walking back up to them, Merle’s sandals in his hand, and he fixed his parents with a reproachful stare. “Okay, folks, show’s over.” He caught Merle’s hand and backed away, pulling her toward the front door.

“Nice to meet you,” she said over her shoulder as Julia reached up to whisper something in her husband’s ear. Pierre nodded, looking back at Merle, smiling.

Neon looked exasperated. Merle’s good humour faded. He didn’t want her talking to them. Well why would he? It wasn’t as if she were his girlfriend or anything. She was only a holiday fling.

“Sorry,” he said.

“For what?”

“Well, I doubt you expected the third degree from my parents when you made that offer on the beach.”

She started to smile. “No, I suppose not.”

He led her out into the drive, pulling her to one side. “Merry Christmas.” He gave her a last kiss.

“Merry Christmas,” she said when he raised his head. His kiss lingered on her lips like a snowflake.

“Have a great day tomorrow. I doubt it’ll be turkey and roast potatoes.”

She laughed. “I must admit, I’ve never had a barbecue on Christmas Day! But there’s a first time for everything.”

“There certainly is.” He smiled.

“Are you spending the day at your parents’?”

“Most of it. I’m on nights for the next two days.”

“On Christmas Day!”

He grinned. “Someone has to man the fort. It can be busy. There’s often a lot of car accidents, drunk driving, you know.”

She nodded. When she thought of firefighters, she always thought about them fighting fires and forgot they did other stuff. “Well, be careful,” she said awkwardly.

“I will.” He smiled, his eyes warm.

She hesitated. She couldn’t think of anything to say except, “See you.” What did you say to someone you’d just had wild, passionate sex with, but who you were probably never going to see again?

“See you.”

She walked over to the car. Bree and Jake were already inside and she climbed in the back. Jake pulled away smoothly.

She looked at her hands, then out the window. Eventually, however, she had to look at Bree and Jake. Jake was glancing at her in his rear-view mirror with an amused expression on his face, and Bree turned around to look at her over the headrest, eyes brimming with delight. Merle met her gaze and glared.

They both burst out laughing. Merle studied them. “Ha-ha, very funny. This is all your fault, Bree Warren.”

“Don’t know what you’re fed up about. Sounded like you were having a good time to me.”

Merle blushed scarlet and Bree reached over and grasped her hand. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t tease. I’m very happy for you. And you’ve earned yourself another fifty bucks, anyway!”

Two more and I’ll get the bonus
. Who’d have thought it of quiet, responsible, respectable Merle?

As Jake drove through the town centre, heading for their house on the east side of Kerikeri, Merle jumped as a siren cut through the air, ringing out loud across the empty streets. “What the hell? Has Germany invaded Poland or something?”

Jake grinned. “It’s the town’s fire siren. The fire service in the Northland is mainly voluntary, you see, and when the volunteers hear the siren they know to come running.”

Merle frowned. “But Neon said he’s on nightshift tomorrow?”

“Yeah, well, he’s not a volunteer.”

“What do you mean?”

Bree glanced at Merle over her shoulder. “He’s one of the senior station officers in charge of the fire station here. He was the youngest in the North Island to make that position. And they reckon he’ll be chief fire officer before he’s thirty.”

“Oh.” Merle felt a tingle all the way down her body.
Of course
he was special. She looked out of the window at the Christmas decorations in the shops. She should have known he did more than rescue cats from trees.

“There were about twenty-five hundred applicants for twenty-five places on the recruit course,” said Jake. “And I’m pretty sure he was near the top of that list.”

“You should ask him what his training was like,” said Bree. “Intense aerobic tests, press ups, dead lifts, shoulder presses… He scored six on all of those.”

“Out of what?”

Bree looked at her, eyebrows raised. Merle sighed.

“He broke a local record for dead lifting,” said Jake.

Well, that didn’t surprise her. The memory of how easily he’d been able to support her weight wasn’t going to fade any time soon.

Bree’s eyes were twinkling. “How hot are you for him right now?”

Merle looked out the window. The two of them were laughing, but humour was the last thing on her mind. Her heart was thumping, and she felt an unfamiliar surge of something through her blood that made her inhale sharply and her head spin.

Oh no
. She closed her eyes.
No, no, no.
She’d only met him twice. True, she had slept with him repeatedly in that short space of time, but even so, it was hardly a lasting relationship.

She couldn’t possibly be in love.

This was terrible. Awful. Surely she was wrong. Love was something that built up over time, wasn’t it? It developed over months and years, like stalactites—it wasn’t something that appeared overnight like fungus. No, she obviously wasn’t in love. She was in lust. Yes. She breathed a little easier. That made sense. And who in their right mind wouldn’t fall in lust with Neon Carter?

Ella, his previous girlfriend, sprang into her mind, and she remembered overhearing their conversation on the phone. Ella had felt the same way about him. It obviously happened when you were near him for a short space of time—he was gorgeous, warm, funny and sexy—what wasn’t to like? But it didn’t mean either of them had been in love with him.

Love was what happened after the first flush of lust had worn off and you found out they hated doing the dishes and never put their socks in the laundry basket, and yet you still wanted to be with them. Love was looking after them when they thought they were dying from a measly cold, and putting up with their snoring, and letting them watch the rugby although there was a show you were missing on the other side.

Wasn’t it?

Certainly, in Merle’s meagre experience, that “zing” you got when you first met someone did not last into a relationship. Not that she’d particularly had the “zing” before. She pictured both Simon and Phil. She’d never felt anything like the attraction she felt for Neon right now. But that wasn’t the point.

What was the point? She’d had too much wine. The point was that the “zing” wasn’t love. It was lust, desire, hunger, an itch that had to be scratched. Lust was like a flea and if you didn’t squash it quickly enough, it would give you an irritating rash. Well, she’d itched her last itch, and Bree and her three hundred bucks could go hang. Like the carefully tended lawn of a stately home, Neon Carter was now officially out of bounds. She’d built up enough hot memories to warm her through for a lifetime, and they would have to do from now on.

 

 

Neon watched Jake’s car disappear into the distance, listening to the forlorn wail of the fire siren, and gave a long sigh. He wasn’t on shift, but he knew he should call the station, just to make sure he wasn’t needed.

What an evening. He started to smile as he thought of how relieved she’d been when he’d asked if she wanted to…well, he hadn’t finished the sentence. Clearly it had been on her mind as much as his. He’d watched her watching him all evening, conscious she’d been studying him as he talked to his family, aware she’d sighed every time he moved, shivered every time he laughed. He’d played up to it, but then it had backfired on him, because the more aroused she got, the more turned on he got until he could feel her sexual tension across the room as clear as if she’d flashed a huge neon sign. He grinned at the pun. She wasn’t even there and she’d made him laugh.

He turned to go indoors and stopped dead as he saw his parents in the doorway. He wiped the smile from his face and stared at them, wary at the twinkle in his mother’s eye.

“Thinking about Merle, were we?” Julia asked.

He glared at her. “No.”

“Son, you’ve not been able to lie to me since the day you stole that bag of sweets from the shop and I made you go and give them back.”

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