You Had Me At Christmas: A Holiday Anthology(50)

“Close your eyes.”

She did and he quickly moved to wrap the tie around her eyes, securing it with a gentle knot. Something she could easily slip out of. The point of the tie was not to blind her, rather to allow her to let go. To not think so much about what was happening but feel what was happening.

He suspected his uptight entrepreneur did way too much thinking.

John pulled away to look at her. Naked, she was beautiful. Lush full breasts, a waist that tapered in and then flared out to full hips. Another thing he figured he would never understand about women. She’d actually been worried about how he would react to seeing her like this. As if her age was some disgusting thing, instead of just another phase of a beautiful body.

Either way, his dick was harder than he ever remembered it being in his youth and that was all that mattered.

Bending down, he wanted to surprise her so he put his mouth directly over her belly button. She gasped, but didn’t move and he continued to run his tongue around the delicate little hole until she was trembling.

Then he moved up and took her nipple into his mouth to suck, and again she made a sound that told him of pleasure.

“Talk to me, Kate,” he said as he pulled away. “Tell me what you like.”

He didn’t wait for an answer before he moved to her other breast, kissing, nipping and then finally sucking with enough pressure to make her body twist on the bed. Suddenly, John didn’t like the feeling of disconnect, standing over her as he was. He bent down and kissed her mouth, thrusting his tongue against hers until he could feel her fingers burying into his hair, clinging to him like she’d just rediscovered the joy of kissing and never wanted it to end.

He pulled away and moved to get on the bed with her, pushing her to one side to make room for him. It was strange. He’d f*cked women after Becky had died, but he’d never done it with someone he cared about. For as short a time as they had known each other, he did care about Kate. He hadn’t been lying to her when he said he wanted to make love to her.

Something about her was special, and he paused to see if he would feel any lingering guilt. But then he was pulling on her nipples and gently biting her ear, and she was making these little keening sounds in the back of her throat that were driving him wild and there was no room for guilt. Only pleasure.

His fingers drifted down over her belly, down between her legs, and she was so wet he instinctively thrust his cock against her hip. He thought about what she had told him, about her clit being too sensitive to direct touch, so he played around the edge of it, letting his fingers dance on top of it, rather than pushing hard on it.

“John, please. I need…”

He thought about the things he wanted to do to her. The things they had talked about on that magical Christmas night. He wanted to go down on her, taste her, but he was too close to the edge to prolong this. Next time, he thought.

He reached over to his bedstand drawer and pulled out a condom, which he quickly rolled on. Then he was on top of her, and she was spreading her legs to make room for him. Before she could prepare for it, or tense against it, he thrust hard and deep.

“Oh my God!” He could feel her tighten around him, knew she was coming and he needed to see her eyes. Needed to see what she was feeling.

He pushed off the loose tie and watched as those green eyes opened and looked at him with such intensity, he had to bite his lower lip and fight not to come.

“Again,” he growled against her neck as he started to pound heavy and deep inside of her.

“I… I can’t,” she panted.

Not satisfied with that answer, he gripped his hand under her thigh and shifted her leg up high and over his hip. It changed his angle, and he started thrusting again, and the cry he wrangled out of her was worth it. God, she felt so good. So hot and tight.

He could feel the clench of her nails in his back, could feel her body tightening around him again, could feel her squeezing down on his cock and suddenly it was all too much. He bent down to kiss her, even as he felt himself explode with one last heavy thrust against her while she cried out her pleasure again.

Spent, he let himself collapse on top of her. Absorbing the feel of her hands softly stroking his back, where before they had been clawing him. It was a pleasure he hadn’t realized he’d missed.

It made him feel cherished.

Sadly, he needed to get rid of the condom and she needed to breathe. Rolling off her, he dealt with the logistics, but was quickly back in bed, pulling her against him. He wasn’t going to think about that small resistance he felt when he tucked her up against him.

“What happens now?” she asked on a quiet whisper.

It seemed obvious to him. “We sleep,” he said as he kissed her shoulder. “And then we wake up and do it all over again.”

He closed his eyes and in seconds he was out.


John woke up the next morning to an empty bed. When he ran his hands over the sheets next to him, he discovered they weren’t remotely warm. He wasn’t going to panic. She said it had been a while for her and she was just being skittish. Four orgasms over the course of two amazing rounds of sex was bound to unnerve a woman not used to something like that.

He glanced at the bed stand and frowned when he didn’t see a note. He got up, pissed, brushed his teeth and then went to discover that she’d left no note anywhere in his apartment.

He found his phone he’d left in the back pocket of his jeans and texted her.