Winter Fire: A Red Hot Winter Story Read online

  She gaped at him. “You’d leave me like this? Teetering on the brink of no return? Wet and wanting? You’d actually refuse to fuck me, just so I’ll talk about him?”

  “You mean Jackson.”

  She froze. “Wh-why do you keep bringing him up?” Her heart banged against her ribs.

  “You brought him up first, sweet thing. Last night in front of the fire. And when I said his name in my room… Let’s just say your reaction told me everything I needed to know.”

  “God, I’m sorry,” Rachel said, suddenly mortified. “I didn’t mean to react like that. Didn’t mean to get so…turned on.” Heat burned her cheeks and for the first time since she’d been outside she didn’t feel the cold. If anything, she was way too warm. She must be blushing crimson.

  He shook his head with disbelief and hauled her into his arms, pressing her close against his body. His erection was clearly evident, even through the numerous layers of their clothing. “You’re apologizing? For acknowledging your real feelings? Don’t. You think your reaction didn’t get me so fucking hot I almost came on the spot?”

  She gaped up at him.

  “Know the only thing that would have turned me on more?” he asked, his voice a whisper, a way of ensuring his words didn’t carry through the crowds, or worse, echo through Echo Point. “If he’d been in that bed with us. Making love to you at the same time as me.”

  She swallowed. He liked that idea? Seriously? “I… I thought you were just weaving a fantasy for me last night.”

  He shook his head, his eyes blazing with green heat. “Not just for you, sweet thing. For me too. I would love to take your ass while your guy—Jackson—takes your pussy.”

  Her knees trembled.

  He pulled her close, as though instinctively realizing she needed the support. “Do you love him?” he asked in her ear.

  God, what was the point of denying it now? “I do.” She always had, and she always would.

  “Does he love you?”

  “He did.” But after more than two years, who knew? Out of choice they hadn’t spoken in all that time.

  “You break up?”

  “No. We were never together.” Damn it. There came the cold again, sneaking through her jacket, creeping into her bones.

  “Why not?”

  She sighed and buried her face in his shoulder, absorbing his warmth. “His sister.”

  “Your BFF?”

  He didn’t miss a trick. “Uh huh.”

  “What does she have to do with it?”

  “Jenna has rules.”

  “About her brother?”

  “About them being twins.”

  “What kind of rules?”

  “Their friends are off-limits to each other.”

  “You mean you can’t be Jackson’s friend?”

  “Oh, I can be his friend. Just not his lover.”

  “Excuse me?” He sounded shocked. “Jenna decides who her brother can or can’t sleep with?”

  She tried to pull away from him, but he kept his arms around her, holding her tight. “No. Not at all. Jenna’s just forbidden Jackson from having relationships with her friends.”

  He rubbed her back, and she felt oddly comforted. “Why?”

  “Experience.”

  “Jackson’s had a lot of relationships with her friends?”

  She sighed. The story was complicated. Too complicated to tell Garreth the full version. “He had his share. Problem was, when Jackson was through with them, they no longer showed interest in being friends with Jenna.”

  “Sounds like school issues, not adult ones.”

  “They were school issues,” Rachel agreed. “But even school issues have a way of spiraling out of control.” They had a way of destroying people’s lives. And one such issue had brought Jenna—and Jackson—close to the brink.

  “Did something happen?”

  “You could say.”

  “Tell me.”

  Rachel shook her head. “It’s not my place.” Jenna’s life had changed forever. As had Jackson’s. Their experience had given both her and Jackson sound reason to never date each others’ friends again. Reasons Rachel understood, even though it killed her not to come out and confess to Jenna how she really felt about her brother. “Suffice it to say by the time Jenna and I became friends, she’d placed a strict, off-limits sign on her friends as far as Jackson was concerned. And a strict, off-limits sign on Jackson as far as her friends were concerned.”

  “How about Jenna? Can she date Jackson’s friends?”

  Rachel snorted. Her friend did not have double standards.

  “I’ll take that as a no,” Garreth surmised.

  “Both of them were badly hurt. They came to a mutual understanding.”

  Garreth was silent for a while, as though absorbing what she’d told him. When he spoke he pulled away slightly so he could look into her eyes. “You’ve been in love with him how long now?”

  “Twelve years.”

  “Twelve years? And you’ve never slept with him, in all that time?”

  Rachel didn’t answer.

  “So you have slept with him,” Garreth surmised from her silence.

  “Just once,” she admitted.

  “And?”

  Her stomach turned to mush just remembering. “And it was the best and worst time of my life.”

  “The best?”

  “You ever made love to someone you’ve loved and desired since you were seventeen?” As awkward a conversation as this was to have with a man she’d just slept with, it felt good to speak about it. To get it out in the open.

  “Can’t say I have.” He shook his head.

  “It’s almost worth the wait. The sex is that good.” It had been the most incredible hour of her life. A culmination of almost ten years of loving Jackson, of him loving her. The desire that burned between them was so hot, so thick, the room itself had practically glowed.

  “And the worst?”

  “Guilt is a terrible thing. The entire time I was with him, I felt like I was betraying Jenna.”

  “By being with the man you love?”

  “We did it in secret. Took advantage of her absence. We betrayed her trust. Both of us.” The guilt had been so bad Rachel had come to the conclusion she needed to resist seeing Jackson again. The best way? Leave Brisbane. Within a month she’d moved with her brother to Sydney to open their jewellery store, Ash Diamonds.

  He frowned. “Ever thought of telling Jenna how you feel?”

  “I’d never do that to her.” Jenna still had nightmares. Over twelve years later, Rachel refused to give her reason to have more.

  “She must be a good friend.”

  “The best.” A girl could not ask for a more loyal, better friend. They were closer than friends. More like sisters. Rachel hated living in a different city from her. Hated keeping such a huge truth from her. “Why are we discussing Jenna and Jackson anyway?” she asked.

  “Because you needed to discuss it. Needed to get it off your chest.”

  She gave him a sad smile. “I bet now that you know the full story you’re not so keen to get back into bed with me. With me or Jackson.”

  He snorted. “You’re kidding right?”

  She sighed. “I never kid about Jackson. It hurts too much.”

  “Ah, sweet thing. I want to climb into bed with both of you now more than before. I’d show Jackson what he’s missing out on. Show him you’re a woman to be treasured, not denied.”

  “We denied each other,” she told him. “We had no choice.”

  “Circumstances may have kept you apart, but he still denied you. I’d simply remind him all over again just how damn desirable you are.”

  She smiled up into his eyes. “You’re good for me, Garreth Halt. A balm to my soul.”

  He smiled back at her, a smile that warmed her all the way through to her toes.

  Then he pulled up his sleeve and checked the time. An unreadable expression crept across his face before he grinned at her.
“I can be a balm to your entire body. Come to the hotel with me. Let me show you and Jackson what he’s missing out on.”

  Chapter Four

  Garreth spent all of three minutes freeing them of their clothes, teasing her mercilessly as he stripped layer upon layer from her body. With each inch of flesh he revealed, Rachel became more and more aroused.

  She cupped his balls in her right hand and palmed his shaft with her left as he moaned raggedly. God, so hard, so smooth. Like silk and steel. But warm. She couldn’t wait to taste him, couldn’t wait to consume him whole, every delicious inch of him.

  A knock on the door interfered with her intentions.

  “Shit,” Garreth complained, his voice rough as sandpaper.

  “Ignore it,” Rachel urged and dropped to her knees.

  His cock jumped in her hands, and she licked his slit.

  He growled low in his throat. “It might be housekeeping, and they have a key.”

  Frustration shimmied through her, and she stood back up.

  “I’ll get rid of them,” he promised.

  “Hurry,” Rachel urged.

  Garreth donned his jeans and went to open the door as Rachel ducked into the bathroom. It was easier to step out of the room then pull on her clothes.

  Shit. Talk about an inconvenient interruption. She was primed and ready for another epic session in bed. She wanted to wrap her lips around his dick. Wanted his tongue on her clit, his cock in her pussy. Wanted images of Jackson floating through her mind as Garreth made love to her body. Damn it, she wanted to come.

  Deep voices sounded on the other side of the door. Housekeeping?

  Rachel spied one of Garreth’s T-shirts hanging on a towel hook. Perfect. She slipped it on, taking the time to inhale the masculine scent that clung to it. The shirt smelled of his aftershave, spicy and sexy. It was enormous, reaching way past her knees. She spared herself a glance in the mirror. Color touched her cheeks and her mouth looked swollen and pouty, compliments of Garreth’s incredible kisses. Her hair was a tousled mess. It fell in dark, wild curls around her face. Her eyes were a good shade darker blue than usual.

  All in all, she looked like a woman disturbed in the heat of passion. Which she was. A woman more than ready to pick up where they’d left off.

  She opened the door, stepped into the room and almost fainted from shock.

  Standing beside Garreth, watching her exit the bathroom, was a beautiful, blond-haired man. A man whose face she pictured every night before going to sleep and every morning upon waking.

  His jaw dropped. “Rachel?”

  “Jackson?” Had he come looking for her? “Wh-what are you doing here?”

  He stared at her with wide, baffled eyes. “What are you doing here?”

  “She’s with me,” Garreth said quietly. He folded his arms across his massive, shirtless chest.

  Jackson swung around to glare at the other man. “What the fuck, Gazza?”

  Gazza? Her eyes popped. Gazza?

  There was only one reason Jackson would call Garreth Gazza, and the comprehension almost knocked Rachel sideways. “Y-you two know each other?”

  Jackson nodded slowly. “He’s my housemate.”

  It was Rachel’s turn to gape at Garreth. She rubbed her ear, certain she’d misheard. “I’m sorry. What?”

  Garreth looked her dead in the eye as he nodded. “We share a house.”

  She closed her eyes and prayed to God she didn’t pass out. “You share a house, in Brisbane, with a journalist named Jackson, who just happens to have a twin sister, Jenna?” Her heart pounded so hard she couldn’t catch her breath.

  “I do,” Garreth answered.

  “That’s why you’re in the mountains? For their birthday?”

  Garreth nodded.

  Rachel knew her jaw hung open, but she couldn’t seem to shut her mouth.

  “You knew Rachel was here for the same reason and you never told her?” Jackson asked, sounding as stunned as Rachel felt.

  She should open her eyes, should look at them both, but she couldn’t. She didn’t have the strength or the courage.

  “I would have,” Garreth said with quiet conviction. “You arrived before I could.”

  “You knew?” Rachel asked on an airless gasp. “You knew all along?” He’d encouraged her to fantasize about Jackson. Made her tell him all about them, about how much she loved him and why they couldn’t be together. And all along he’d known exactly who Jackson was. Had he known who she was? Had Jackson ever told him about her?

  “I put two and two together when you told me you were a jewellery designer,” Garreth said.

  Which would explain why he’d looked so surprised at the time.

  Rachel put her hand on her chest, struggling to breathe. She felt utterly betrayed. Deceived. Garreth had known Jackson all along, had even known who she was, and he hadn’t bothered to mention the connection.

  “You slept with her?” It was Jackson’s voice demanding an answer. “You fucked Rachel?” Fury and disbelief echoed through his words.

  “We made love.” Garreth said calmly.

  Rachel began to tremble. First her hands started to shake, then her legs, and soon her entire body shuddered. Her teeth knocked together as though she were freezing.

  She had to get out of here. Had to get to her room and escape the madness. Jackson’s housemate had seduced her. She’d voluntarily slept with him and never been the wiser.

  Clothes. She needed to dress. Needed to leave. Now.

  She opened her eyes and dropped to her knees, scrambling around the floor, grabbing her jeans, shirt and boots. They’d do. So long as she had on some clothes she could always come back later for the rest.

  “Rachel—” Before Jackson could finish his sentence she escaped to the bathroom again.

  Pulling her pants on was virtually impossible. Her hands shook too violently, and she couldn’t balance on one leg. But she did it somehow, perched on the edge of the spa bath. She even managed to button up her shirt, although it hung crooked and out of synch. She didn’t care. She’d sort it out back in her room.

  What on earth had Garreth been thinking? How could he do this? Had he acted out of malice? Dislike? Did he have something to prove to Jackson—or her?

  Instinct told her that wasn’t the case. Garreth was a decent man. A good man. No way had he been out to hurt anyone. No way could they have shared such explosive, hot sex if there’d been any negative undercurrents to his words or actions.

  Oh, dear God. Realization burst like shattered glass through her heart. He’d included Jackson in their sex play. He’d brought up Jackson’s name. He’d even told her he wanted to make love to her at the same time as Jackson. It hadn’t been a wild fantasy of his—or one he’d spun for her. He knew Jackson. He did want to sleep with her at the same time as Jackson.

  So why keep his friendship with Jackson secret? She didn’t understand it. And at this moment, she didn’t want to try. She just wanted to get the hell out of Dodge.

  No way could she stay in his room another minute.

  Angry voices sounded on the other side of the wall. Raised voices, one Canadian, one Australian. She couldn’t listen. Didn’t want to hear what they said. She donned her boots and without acknowledging the men’s presence, walked into the room again, grabbed her jacket and bag and dashed for the door.

  “Rachel, wait!” Jackson caught her arm before she could get away and twirled her around to stare into her face.

  He looked as tortured as she felt. His familiar blue eyes were dark with distress and disappointment. Haunted.

  Her stomach plummeted. Two and a half years she’d waited to see him again. Longed for him. And now, this. “Let me go, Jackson. Please.”

  “We need to talk. Don’t go.”

  She shook her head. “I have to.”

  “Rachel.”

  “Jackson.” This was sheer hell. Agony. Looking into his eyes, every iota of emotion she’d ever felt for him came flooding back. Noth
ing had changed. Nothing. She still loved him every bit as much as the day she’d left Brisbane. As much as the afternoon they’d made love. Their forced time apart had done nothing to extinguish her feelings for him.

  “Talk to me, Rach, please.”

  “Talk to him,” Garreth said from across the room.

  She looked over Jackson’s shoulder at him. He stared back, his gaze intense and focused. And warm. So warm. Again her gut told her there’d been no malice in his intent.

  Just looking at him reminded her what she was doing in his room. Whatever had attracted her to him in the first place still held a magnetic pull over her.

  Confusion turned her brain to sludge. Without saying another word she pulled away from Jackson and disappeared from the room, running as fast as her legs would carry.

  Jackson turned to Garreth, rage blooming in his chest. He was going to fucking kill the man. “Just what the hell where you thinking?” he demanded.

  Garreth leaned against the back of the couch, his arms still folded over his chest. “I’m thinking you’re an idiot.”

  “What the fuck? You slept with her. You slept with Rachel and you think I’m the idiot?”

  “You’re not just an idiot, Jack. You’re a dumb fuck.”

  Jackson took a deep breath and counted to ten. Instinct told him to hurt the man. To inflict deep, endless pain. Common sense told him Garreth had good rationalization for his actions. “Explain.”

  “You let her get away.”

  Gazza’s perfect calm pissed Jackson off even further. “And that’s reason enough to fuck her yourself?”

  “You’re a moron for letting someone that perfect slip through your fingers.”

  Was he fucking crazy? Rachel was the one woman he wanted to hold on tight to. Wanted to never let go. He hadn’t let her slip through his fingers, he’d been forced to release her.

  He clenched one hand into a fist and pointed at his friend with the other. “You, more than anyone, know what Rachel means to me. You know I had to walk away. So don’t fucking tell me I let her slip through my fingers. And don’t even try to use that as an excuse for screwing her.”