Falling By Firelight (Christmas Romance) Page 8

  “Good.”

  “Would you have done it?” he asked.

  “Done what?”

  “Bit him.” He sized her up as he asked, then shrugged. “Earlier today I would have thought, no way! But I suppose now you’ve got me guessing.” Kate bit her lip as her smile spread. She kept her eyes on her meat, on her task, masking the whirlpool of feelings spiraling inside. “Does that mean I don’t get an answer?” he asked.

  She tilted her head to one side, then the other. “I guess it would depend. Usually I’m a pacifist, which certainly factors in. But if you wind me up the wrong way…” Kate shook her head, eyes wide as saucers.

  Nolan laughed. “See, I believe that. Makes perfect sense. You’re a firecracker. I think that if we spent the next 24 hours together, you’d surprise me at least 24 times.” A new heat flooded through Kate, surging in her chest, in her core, between her legs.

  Clearing her throat, she shot up to her feet. “I can’t wait anymore, I need to eat. Here.” She held out her skewer and Nolan took it. Kate went to the kitchen, gathering a large platter and a pair of forks and knives. She came back and sat crosslegged on the ground, placing the platter between them.

  Nolan took a fork and methodically freed all four brats, delivering them smoothly to the plate. She watched him work, allowing herself to stare since his eyes were distracted. In the direct heat of the fireplace, they’d both stripped away some of their layers. She was in her silky pink long-sleeve shirt, the fancy long underwear she’d received from her mother years before. He was in a grey henley. Clearly intended to be a base layer, the cotton was so snug that it might as well have been painted on. It hugged every rise and fall of his underlying physique. Defined every swell. Mmm.

  As he he worked, un-skewering and slicing, the muscles of his arms rippled. Suddenly his figure seemed much more intimidating. Much more cut. It’s not as if that was the most important thing to Kate. It wasn’t. But after only seeing him bundled up in layer upon layer of winter gear for the last two weeks, this kind of reveal made her feel…weak.

  Kate took a fork and speared a piece of the sliced brat. She shoved it into her mouth, bit down, and the meat released such savory notes that she groaned aloud. Bending back at the waist, Kate had to support herself with her free hand. She arched back, basking in the delicious moment, her face open and blissful.

  “You like that, hmm?” Nolan’s smile was wide, gently teasing, but something more to it. Something softer.

  “Uh yes.” Kate covered her still-full mouth as she spoke. “It is so fucking good. What brand even is this?”

  He gave a casual shrug, casting his eyes to the side as he played coy. “I have a guy.”

  Mid-swallow, Kate snorted a laugh. “Oh of course you do.” She shook her head, forking another bite. “Well, whoever your guy is, he does great work. And here I thought my Christmas would be all microwave dinners and cookies.”

  “Is that really so bad?”

  She shot him a look. “Um, yes. It’s Christmas. It might not matter to you, outside of your daughter, obviously, but it matters to me.”

  Swiftly, Nolan sat up straighter. “So,” he brought his hands down on his thighs with a firm slap that sent a shiver up Kate’s spine, “what do you do with your family then?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “For Christmas. Or Christmas Eve, if you have something you do then.”

  Kate found that his honey eyes were sparkling, a gentle warmth emanating from his whole person. “Why?” she asked, tentative.

  “Because we’ll do it.” His reply was quick. Matter-of-fact.

  She raised a carefully arched brow, pushing a dark tendril behind her ear. No matter how much she told herself not to, to stop it, Kate kept angling herself toward him. It was a creeping tension, a magnetism that she couldn’t seem to shake. A distraction would be good, but what her family actually did on Christmas Eve seemed, dangerous. “I’m not sure you want to commit to my family traditions before you even know them.” She speared another bite, grateful for the time it would buy her. “We may be a quiet family for most of the year, but around the holidays we tend to get a little bit wild.”

  His eyes grew wider. “Oh, now I definitely want to do it.” Not for one moment did his gaze stray from her face. Kate began to feel shaky. Nervous. “Come on,” he pointed a warning finger her way, “you have to tell.”

  Kate swallowed some of her nerves. “Alright. On Christmas Eve, we drink too many bottles of wine, then we all,” she sighed, running a hand through the hair by her temple, “dance.”

  “And what’s so tough about that?” Nolan clambered to his feet with a youthful, spritely energy. “We’re already doing the wine, it’s not like it’s hard to dance.”

  “There’s no music.”

  “Grab me a clean cup or bowl and there will be.” Nolan pulled his phone from his jeans as Kate made her way to the kitchen.

  You should tell him to go home. But the cold. Damnit. Maybe you can say you’re tired, and you can both just sleep. Here. By the fire. Together. All night. Dread pooled in her gut as she returned to the living room. Nolan seemed just fine. And here she was using every shred of control not to wrap herself around him and take his mouth back. Make it hers. Kate shuddered, but held out the glass bowl. Like an offering. He took it and placed it on the coffee table.

  “What do you want to dance to?”

  “Um, I guess an Amy Grant album?” She shifted her weight between her feet, hands fidgeting. “Does that work?”

  His focus remained on his phone, typing. “Sure, just one sec.” Nolan selected the album, turned the volume as high as it could go, and placed the phone in the bowl. The moment he did, the volume surged as if they’d hooked it up to a real speaker. He smiled at her shocked expression. “Just amplifying sound waves. Come on.” He extended a wide hand her way.

  Jittering on the inside, knowing that this was probably a bad idea, that she only had so much self-control, Kate took it. As the swinging track began, Nolan yanked her into his arms. She stiffened into the dancing position, barely breathing, as he began to whisk her around the floor. His hold on the small of her back sent sparks out over her skin. It stoked the longing inside her. The yearning for him to move his hand under the thin silk layer. To feel her. The fabric was so light that she could make out the roughness of his fingertips, the measured strength they held.

  Shaking it off, Kate held her body as far from his as she could without letting go. Nolan seemed far from flustered. In fact, he seemed to be having a ball. He turned her in quick circles around the living room, firelight making him glow.

  “You’re a pretty good dancer,” she said. As if on cue, he whipped her out to the side in a turn, then spun her back in. Her torso crashed against his, sending a shock wave from her core to her much lower longing. The want, the anticipation, swelled between her hips. Kate swiftly moved back into her safely distant dancer’s hold. “OK, showoff. You’re a very good dancer.”

  “I get my fair share of practice. When Maggie says to dance, I dance.”

  A soft smile broke through her tension. “That’s sweet.”

  His brow furrowed at the center, darkened. “If it’s sweet when I dance with my daughter, fine. But dancing with an adult woman, I like to think I’m far from sweet.”

  Her jaw dropped just a hair. “I didn’t mean like—“

  It was too late. Nolan kicked it up a notch. He whirled her around, hands caressing her waist as she moved past him. Their legs intertwined, steadily becoming more and more connected. Kate’s resolve wore down quickly. Feeling as if there were no other options, she let him sweep her away. If she pretended that she wasn’t dying to kiss him, that she wasn’t dying for his hands to feel more of her, then it was almost fun. They danced with such fervor that both worked up a sweat. Lost their breath.

  When the song cut out, a silent transition, Kate found herself stuck. Nolan’s strong hands were on her waist, a gentle, infuriating pressure. Her chest pressed a
gainst his, so close that she could feel his heartbeat racing against hers. And he was watching her. Looking deep within her. Like he could see everything there was to her, and wasn’t about to look away. Both were almost panting, with parted lips. For a moment she thought she saw his eyes flicker down to take in her mouth, and that was too much. A slower song began to play and in a sharp movement, Kate pressed her cheek against his chest.

  Nolan paused, then wound his arms tighter around the small of her back, pulling her close. They stepped slowly from side to side, swaying with the smoothness of the music. Even as they fell into a nice, even pace, her heart showed no signs of slowing its frantic rhythm. Kate pressed her cheek firmly against the hardness of him, glad he couldn’t see the near pain he was putting her through.

  “We’ve sort of become real friends today,” she said, as if labeling it would convince her.

  “You could say that.” One of his hands left her back, stroked her hair instead. She bit her lip. “We’ve learned a lot about each other, at least.”

  “Oh yeah,” she choked out, “all the wife stuff.”

  “And your fierce side.” He chuckled, the vibration echoing through her. “That was a surprise. You’ve got real layers.”

  “So does everyone.”

  “Alright, Miss Congeniality. You know, I sort of want to know the worst thing you’ve ever done. Then we can see how typical your layers are.”

  “You don’t want that, actually,” she murmured.

  “Oh, if you already know it off the top of your head? Then I definitely do.”

  His tone was so jovial, so fun, but her heart was sinking at the answer she knew was true. “The worst thing I ever did was stay.”

  “Stay?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was low, but firm. “The worst thing I ever did is something I did to myself. I stayed in a marriage that I shouldn’t have. For way, way longer than I can even believe, looking back now.”

  His rough hand rested at the nape of her neck, cradling her. “Why was that so bad?”

  “Because.” She took a deep breath. Squeezed her eyes closed. “We tried to have children for a long time. It took years before…and then, I miscarried.”

  His chest sank beneath her cheek, like the air had been sucked out from his lungs. The weight of it hung in the air around them. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured.

  “And when that happened, he started having an affair.” Nolan brought their sway to a halt, standing rigidly still as she pressed her cheek just slightly harder into his warmth. “And I knew. Before too long I knew, anyway. And I stayed.” It had been so long since Kate had actually said it out loud. Perhaps she’d never put it all so factually, or shared it with someone she’d basically just met. But, letting the words pour out, in some way she felt lighter. Somehow admitting that she’d played a role in the hurt, in hurting herself, made it the slightest bit better. Easier.

  Nolan took her face in his hands and tilted it up toward him. There was such compassion in his eyes, such tenderness, that her whole body went weak. “I am so sorry,” he murmured.

  “It’s been a while,” she whispered, clinging to him. “It’s OK.”

  “It’s not. That, that,” his face contorted, searching for a word with enough venom and coming up empty, “he, deserves—“

  “You don’t have to do that,” she cut in.

  “Fine.” He nodded, capturing her with his gaze once more. She was tight against him, her slender form pressed against his hard abdominals, his chest. Kate felt stuck, trapped, but a kind of trapped that she wanted. Even if she knew this was a recipe for disaster. “Then I’m just sorry. And I am so damn sorry for every time that I was less than nice to you.”

  “You don’t have to to that either.” She shook her head tightly. “Don’t start feeling bad for me, because yes, it was horrible and gut-wrenching and my heart still—“

  “This isn’t me feeling sorry for you.” His voice was gentle, but strong. “It’s me saying that you’re incredible. Truly, really incredible.”

  Looking into his eyes, cheeks cradled in his rough palms, a fire with a strength Kate had almost forgotten came surging through her. Her breath caught in her throat, her lips parting, longing. The desperation sang out from her every pore. The need strongest between her legs. Pressed so close, the pressure radiated into her from his intimidating form. The granite man she was all but draped across.

  “Nolan?” she breathed.

  “Hmm?” He was just as entranced, just as stuck in her lipid green eyes. Slowly, Kate moved her hands from their place on his shoulders up to the sliver of exposed skin on the back of his neck.

  “Maybe it’s OK that you aren’t in a good place. For romance. Maybe,” she cleared her throat, her stomach flipping itself around with debilitating force, “maybe that’s OK. With me.” What are you doing? asked the voice in her head. You are a relationship girl. You are a commitment-holic! You have never just casually, even though… He inched closer, his lips so close to hers that she could feel his hot breath on the hungry plane of her skin. God. Fuck it. If this is the only option, then fuck it.

  “Are you sure?” he asked, practically into her mouth. His eyes had gone molten. They pierced her to the core. The pressure, the anticipation, the want, all built to a level at which there was only one answer.

  “I am so fucking sure.”

  Nolan crushed his mouth down onto hers. The release she felt at the contact was so great, so euphoric. Kate wrapped her arms tighter around his neck. She jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing herself against his marble torso. The kiss deepened, darkened. His hands found her ass, supporting her in the air as he pulled away to kiss her neck. She threw her head back, dark hair cascading, letting the sensation of his mouth wash over her.

  As the initial relief of the kiss passed, her hunger transformed into something far more carnal. Wetness pooled between her legs. She pressed her most sensitive place harder against the washboard of his abs. The want was so great that she couldn’t stay still, tilting her hips from side to side to feel him more fully as his strong hands groped at her.

  Kate’s breath grew heavy, infiltrating their kiss. She broke away to stroke him with her fiery gaze. “Nolan, I need your hands on me.”

  “I thought they were.”

  “No.” She shook her head softly. “More.”

  In one smooth motion, Nolan bent down and laid her in front of the fireplace. She arched against the furry rug as he ripped his shirt up over his head and threw it to the side. Kate’s jaw dropped, out of her control. His muscles glinted in the uneven light of the fire, their sharp defined edges glowing. Inviting her in.

  Kate sat up and pulled her own shirt over her head. Nolan had started to move toward her, but now stopped. His eyes raked down over her shoulders, the curve of her chest, the dip of her waist. Gently, he shook his head.

  “What?” she asked, propping herself up with both hands behind her.

  He raised his eyes to meet hers, an insatiable desire shining through them. “You are so beautiful.” Nolan leaned forward and caught her in a kiss. This one was even deeper than before. Slower. Sultry. He was steering her, and she welcomed him into the driver’s seat. Sweeping one arm around to her back, Nolan lowered Kate gently to the ground. The soft, furry rug sent her skin tingling. When he moved his mouth to the peak of her shoulder, kissing there, the tingling only came stronger. Nolan worked his way down her creamy collarbone, toward her chest.

  As his calloused palms moved to cup the swell of her breasts, Kate thanked the fates that this was one of those rare days when she’d worn pretty lingerie to feel festive. The red lace of her bra stood out stark against her light skin. Nolan kissed along the line where the lace met her delicate flesh. He was so close that her nipples hardened into tight buds. They ached for his touch. Kate arched her spine, driving him closer.

  He looked down at her with a wicked grin that made her toes curl. “You trying to force my hand, Kate?”

  She b
it her lip. “Maybe a little bit?”

  “What if that just makes me go slower?”

  “Oh god, please don’t,” she blurted. “It’s been like three years.”

  Nolan leveled back a serious gaze, his own jaw hanging loose. “Oh my god,” he muttered.

  Turning red, Kate covered her face with both hands. “Please don’t make a big deal about it. It’s just that—“

  Nolan ripped down the lacy cup of her bra. In the open air, her nipple was taught and yearning. Cupping the fullness of her breast, he took her into his mouth and sucked. Pleasure shot through her, pulling a quiet moan from the depths of her throat. He flicked at the nipple with his tongue as she arched, hungry, to meet him. Nolan pulled aside the other cup of her bra and took that nipple between his fingers. He rolled it as he took the first between his teeth. The sensation was so sharp, so delicious, Kate could feel it all the way down in her sex. She trembled beneath him, closing her eyes and letting the feeling overtake her.

  He tightened his grip, releasing the other bud from his mouth with a devastating suck and kissing over to the nipple still in his possession. Taking it into his mouth, he squeezed the other so hard that her legs shook against the carpet. The wetness between her legs was getting out of hand, drenching the lace of her panties, but he showed no signs of moving lower. Kate ran her hands along the smooth planes of his tanned skin. Adding pressure, she trailed her nails along the hills and valleys of his back.

  The escalation seemed to work, because Nolan released her. He worked his way down Kate’s torso, nipping at her with his teeth as he went. She wriggled with excitement as the pressure between her legs grew more and more unbearable. An urgent need. The need to be touched by him. Just when she thought he was about to rip off her sweats, Nolan took her hips in his hands, raised them, and planted a firm kiss on the cotton that veiled her pussy.

  “Oh my god,” she moaned. He pressed his mouth harder against her heat. The material had so much give, she could clearly make out his lips on her. It was almost unbearably hot. Kate dug her hands into his dirty blonde hair, squeezing the fistfuls to bring him ever closer. “I need to feel you,” she gasped.