Winter Fire: A Red Hot Winter Story Page 2
Hah. He should only know. Meeting Jackson and doing her best to avoid him at the same time. “Uh huh. It’s his thirtieth. He and his twin sister are celebrating in style.” She gestured to the hotel lobby with her arm. “A weekend in a boutique hotel in the Blue Mountains.”
“Nice birthday celebration. You friendly with the sister also?”
“BFFs,” Rachel told him with a smile. She and Jenna had been friends since their last year in school. Now that they lived in different cities, Rachel missed her like the devil.
In truth, Rachel was in the mountains to celebrate Jenna’s birthday, not Jackson’s. She and Jackson had no business celebrating together. They had no business being together in any way. They’d tried that once and the guilt had left them both unsettled and ashamed.
The waiter returned with their drinks, and Rachel sipped hers slowly as they spoke.
“So what, you came up a day early? Before the celebrations begin?”
She nodded. “I needed a break.”
“From the stressful world of jewellery design?”
Was he mocking her?
Nope. Teasing, not mocking. “Among other things.”
The light from the flames hit the tawny liquid in his glass. It glinted, just like the russet strands in his hair. The man was beautiful enough to make her chest ache.
“May I?” He reached over and lifted her arm, holding it up so he could see the bracelet that hung around her wrist. His touch burned her skin, licking at her flesh like the flames on the logs.
“Did you design this?” he asked.
“Uh huh.” It was one of her favorite pieces. An intricately woven gold chain with tiny diamonds embedded along its length.
“Impressive.” He gave an appreciative nod. “I’ve never seen gold quite that color before.”
Rachel smiled, enjoying the feel of her arm in his hand. How would her breasts feel in that same hand? “Copper gives it the pink tinge.”
He looked up, clearly surprised. “You mix gold with copper?”
“Uh huh. Mixing gold with different metals creates the different shades of gold.”
“You’re an alchemist,” Garreth murmured.
“Hardly.” Rachel chuckled. “I don’t make gold. I simply alter its color a little.”
Garreth flashed her a seductive grin. “Same difference.”
The wine settled in her belly in a pleasant puddle. Her limbs relaxed and her muscles loosened. She didn’t try to pull her arm away. She was more than content with it in Garreth’s hand. He had long, slim fingers. Fingers she could easily imagine trailing up her arms and over her shoulders, leaving goose bumps in their wake.
“So, what else did you need a break from?” he asked.
Ah. Back to that conversation. “Life in general. Nothing specific.” No need to mention her spectacular failure at building romantic relationships, or the little issue of spending the last twelve years in love with a man she could never have—no matter how much they might want to be together.
He raised an eyebrow. “Not even a man? A certain journalist friend perhaps?”
She gaped at him. How on earth had he singled out Jackson so quickly?
“You blushed earlier,” he said.
“When?” Her free hand flew to her cheek. Was she still blushing? Flushed at the thought of Jackson?
“When you mentioned your friend. Your cheeks turned pink. Just like your bracelet. A most alluring color on you I might add.” His gaze settled on her face. “It’s a damn pity.”
“What is?”
He smiled at her ruefully. “That there is a Mr. Beautiful out there.”
Rachel’s jaw dropped. Good grief. Just how much had he determined about her feelings for Jackson. She couldn’t be that open a book, could she? She licked her very dry lips. “Jackson’s a friend. Nothing more.” They could never be anything more, and they both knew it. No matter what they felt for each other, they’d had to shove it aside and pretend it didn’t exist.
History had taught the Brooks siblings that terrible things could happen if they dated each other’s friends. And Rachel was Jenna’s best friend.
“I had to ask,” Garreth said, and then smiled his devilish smile. “I had to check out the competition.”
Rachel arched an eyebrow.
“If I have any hope of getting you into my bed tonight,” he explained, “I have to know exactly what I’m dealing with.”
“You’re hoping to get me into bed tonight?”
“Kissing beside a fire is nice. Making love in a king-size bed is sensational.” The smile was gone. His eyes burned with the intensity of his words.
She tilted her head. “So if I climbed into that king-size bed with you, there wouldn’t be any kissing?” She gave him a pouty frown. “Pity. I’ve been fantasizing about those heated kisses beside the fireplace.”
“And I’ve been fantasizing about making love to you in the king-size bed in my chalet.”
“Hmm.” She tapped her finger on her lips, pondering the quandary. “Seems we’ve reached an impasse. I want one thing, you want another.”
“Seems we have,” he agreed.
“What to do, what to do?” she wondered out loud.
“You big on compromise?” he asked.
“Depends on the terms of the compromise,” she answered.
His green eyes sparkled. “What if the king-size bed were beside the fireplace?”
Chapter Two
It wasn’t.
His bed was on the other side of the luxurious chalet. Flames leapt behind an iron grid in the fireplace, which sat against the opposite wall of the large room, facing a double couch. The giant, wooden sleigh bed, covered with snow-white linens, overlooked a wall of windows. The sunset outside cast a pinkish-orange glow over the trees and mountains.
The chalet was identical to hers, only a mirror image.
“You have a choice,” he said as he kicked the door closed behind them. “I can spread a blanket on the floor beside the fire, and we can do this the slow romantic way.” His eyes gleamed with desire, with a fire hotter than the one across the room.
Her heart picked up speed. “Or?”
He kicked off his shoes. “Or I can toss you on the bed and fuck you until we both pass out.”
She slung her jacket over the couch. As if there was a choice. Sensual, dreamy and romantic, or hot, hard and ruthless. “Option two.” Dreamy and romantic were stored away for Jackson.
His lips twitched. “I had you picked for the heated-kisses option.”
“And I had you picked as a model. Apparently we were both wrong. Now you gonna keep talking, or you gonna fuck me until we both pass out?” Oh, yeah, when she met Jackson tomorrow, the last thing on her mind would be jumping him. She intended to fully satisfy herself on the delicious man before her.
His T-shirt was off before she finished the question. “Option two.” His smile scorched her all the way through to her bones.
She stared at him, dumbstruck. With his shirt on he was beautiful. Without it, he was panty-wetting, tongue-drooling gorgeous. Sex on legs.
Her hands shook as she unbuttoned her cardigan and let it drop to the floor.
“Bed?” he rumbled.
“Lead the way,” she concurred and pulled her shirt over her shoulders.
Garreth fiddled with his button and seconds later his jeans gaped open. Rachel forgot to breathe.
He tugged at her thermal silk undershirt. “Any more layers I should know about?”
“Just two.”
He shook his head. “No blizzards in Australia.”
“I told you, I hate the cold.” She lifted her arms and let him dispose of the silk.
His thumbs grazed over her covered nipples, making her tremble. They beaded instantly.
“Too many clothes,” he grumbled, and the cami she wore disappeared.
He gazed hungrily at her bra-clad breasts. “God, you’re beautiful.”
“Look closer,” she urged, and reached back
to dispose of the black satin-and-lace bra. Her breasts sprung free, feeling heavier than usual under the close scrutiny of those emerald green eyes.
“Jesus, fuck,” he swore hoarsely, and then she was in his arms, pressed against the glorious wall of his muscular chest.
His full, lush lips took hers in a blistering kiss. A kiss so wicked it shook her very foundations. It burned off the cold, replacing it with a fierce heat that seared her from her mouth right through to her feminine core.
He tasted of scotch and man and sex—every bit as scrumptious as she’d anticipated.
Better.
She tunneled her fingers through his hair, holding his head close, molding her lips to his, pushing her body against his.
Ah, that erection. It felt good against her belly. A solid mass pressing into her softer flesh. She wanted it in her hand. In her mouth. Fuck, who was she kidding? She wanted it buried in her pussy. And in her ass. Hell, she just wanted it inside her.
She slipped her hand inside his open jeans and cupped it over his cock.
He moaned into her mouth, rocking against her hand.
Or maybe that was her moaning. He was thicker than she expected. And harder. She struggled to find breath. If he felt so good in her palm, covered by his boxers, how would he feel driving into her pussy?
Garreth broke the kiss to kick off his jeans and boxers. Toned, muscular legs were revealed inch by endless inch. His freed cock jumped up, slapping against his stomach.
“Yours too,” he said as his boxers hit the floor. “Take ’em off.”
She shook her head. “Can’t. Sorry. My hands are full.”
“Yeah? Of what?”
“You.” She wrapped one hand around his shaft, closing it around the silken steel of his erection. The other she used to cup his balls.
He threw his head back with a hiss, and she experimentally slid her hand up and down, testing his girth and his length. Both were impressive, yet neither overwhelming. He’d be a good fit inside her.
“Ah, Christ,” he groaned. “Just like that.”
For a long moment he stood stock still, letting her explore, feel, play. And then his patience snapped. He picked her up and tossed her on the bed.
“Carry on like that, Rachel, and it’ll be game over before we even begin.”
“What, no staying power?” she ragged as he tugged at her zipper and pulled her jeans over her hips.
“What the devil…?” He stared, dumbstruck, at the lower half of her body.
He’d found her leggings. “They’re my thermals,” she explained with a grin.
He shook his head. “You wouldn’t last a second in a Canadian winter.”
“Then we’re even ’cause you hardly lasted a second in my hand.”
His eyes gleamed as he pulled off her boots and her knee-length, woolen socks. “Is that a challenge?”
God, who would have thought disposing of sixteen layers of clothing could be sexy? Yet, with each item he removed, Rachel squirmed more and more on the bed. “You up to a challenge?”
“Woman, I’ve been up since I saw you in the lobby this afternoon.”
She eyed his impressive erection. “Hope it feels as good up as it looks.”
Her thermals vanished, leaving her lying in nothing but panties. “It’ll feel better buried inside you.”
She shuddered in anticipation. “Now about that challenge…”
He dipped his hands under the elastic of her panties and slowly rolled them over her hips and down her legs. “You think I can’t last longer than a second?”
“See, that’s the thing…” It was getting harder and harder to talk and tease. Her nudity left her exposed to his gaze, and his gaze left her smoldering. “…I’d at least like you to try.”
He gave her a quirky grin. “I’ll see what I can do.”
She grinned right back, thoroughly enjoying herself. Garreth was fun. He made her smile. When she’d made love to Jackson, neither of them had smiled. The ride had been too intense, too emotional and too shadowed with guilt to be fun.
Garreth covered her body with his and kissed her. His lips were so seductive, his tongue so alluring, so sensual, desire trickled through her belly like syrup. There was something sinfully erotic about making love to a stranger. No strings, no history, no emotional complexities. No secrets, no failings. And possibly the most important aspect of all: no future.
They were just two people intent on pleasuring and satisfying each other here and now.
Garreth tucked his leg between her thighs, using it to grind against her pussy. How he unerringly knew to position his thigh just so, so her clit benefitted from the full attention of his movements, she had no idea. She simply spread her legs and gave his thigh free access.
He dipped his head to draw a nipple into his mouth. As his lips closed around the supersensitive flesh, cream spilled from her pussy, coating his skin.
She raked her nails over his back. If this continued much longer, she’d come. On his leg, with her nipple in his mouth.
“Garreth,” she whispered.
“Mm hmm,” he mumbled around a mouthful of her breast.
“I thought you were going to fuck me ’til I passed out.”
He released her nipple to cup a breast in each hand, pushed them together and ran his tongue from one nipple to other. “And I thought you wanted me to last more than a second.”
She instinctively arched her back, pushing her chest higher, pleading silently for more. She also ground down against his thigh, seeking relief from the pressure building in her clit. “I want both. Now.”
Lord, it was good to live in the now. To not worry about the future or the past.
He chuckled. “A lady who knows what she wants. I like that.”
“And I’d like it if you’d replace your leg with your dick, and fuck me like you promised.”
“Getting impatient?” He licked her nipples again, moving his leg torturously against her pussy.
“Getting hornier by the second,” she sighed. “Carry on like that and I’m going to come on your leg.”
He stilled completely, then sat up. “Not my leg. My hand.”
“Huh?”
He swept a finger over her clit and when she shuddered, did it again. He pushed her legs wide open to swirl his finger around and around, slipping it deep between her folds.
The breath left her lungs with a shudder.
“I want to watch you come. I want to see every tremor, every spasm that hits your pussy as I touch you.”
“O-okay,” she answered, because there was very little else she could think of to say in this position.
He trailed his finger lower, exploring between her butt cheeks, making her ass clench in helpless anticipation.
A groan escaped him, and he closed his eyes, grabbing his cock with his free hand and squeezing hard. His other hand continued to seduce her ass and pussy. He dipped his finger back inside her channel.
A fierce wave of pleasure began to crest over her. “Open your eyes,” she demanded.
“Why?”
“Because if you want to see me come, you better look now.”
His eyes opened as the first spasm hit, rocking through her body.
Garreth drove his finger in and out, and rubbed circles around her clit as waves of bliss washed over her. His gaze held firm, watching her pussy convulse, exactly as he’d promised.
The simple eroticism of the act, of his scrutiny, increased the intensity of the spasms, stretching the orgasm out. Garreth’s death grip around his cock must have slackened marginally, because as she came he pumped his shaft, timing his movements to coincide with hers. As her muscles clamped around his finger, he stroked down, and as they relaxed he pulled up again.
Her breath was gone. Ripped away by the force of her orgasm. Rachel collapsed against the bed covers, panting as the last waves of pleasure ebbed away.
“Don’t move an inch,” Garreth whispered and the mattress shifted.
His foots
teps echoed over the wooden floor. A door creaked, and something scraped, like the hinges of a drawer being pulled opened. He must be looking for a condom.
His absence gave Rachel a minute to breathe, to think. And her thoughts instantly wandered to Jackson.
Making love to Jackson had been so different from sex with Garreth. With Garreth it was hot, hard and fun. No complications of any kind.
With Jackson their pleasure might have been compounded exponentially by their love for each other, but the strings and the history had left them both feeling wretched afterwards.
Damn it. She needed to shove Jackson from her thoughts. He had no place in her head. She was here with Garreth to cleanse her mind of her past. To take away the edge she always felt around Jackson. She was here, now, intent on having as much sex and as much fun as possible—because tomorrow when Jackson arrived, sex had to be the last thing she craved. Especially when she was in close proximity to the man she loved.
She pushed herself up on her elbows and watched as Garreth walked out of the en-suite bathroom, his cock standing proud, erect and fully sheathed. Christ, the man was indeed sex on a stick. She gave him her full attention, deliberately pushing Jackson to the far reaches of her mind.
Garreth placed one hand on her hip and pushed her gently. “Roll over, onto your stomach.”
She didn’t need to be asked twice.
“Spread your legs for me, sweet thing.”
Moisture pooled in her pussy as she shifted slightly on the doona, spreading her thighs wide. “Sweet thing?” Movement behind her told her he’d climbed onto the bed and knelt between her legs.
“Mmm. You taste sweet enough to eat.” He licked her at the point where her butt cheek met her thigh, surprising the heck out her. She’d expected his hips to be there, not his face.
Not that she was complaining. Oh, quite contraire. “Bon appetite,” she offered with a delighted sigh. Shivers raced up her spine.
Something grazed her pussy. His thumbs?
No. His tongue.
The realization made the liquid that gathered between her legs spill from her lips, and he licked at it with a low growl. Her breath caught in her throat. Exquisite tingles raced through her groin.