I shudder.
“What I’m trying to say is, take things slow. It doesn't hurt to be cautious.”
“Slow?” I bark out a laugh. “We’ve taken things slow for ten years.”
“You both revolve around each other. You’re co-dependent to the point I’m not sure it’s healthy. And it’s partly my fault. I let it happen because she was good for you. And you, you saved that poor girl time and time again. I guess I just don’t want to see either of you get hurt if this spirals sideways.”
“I love her. Always have. Always will.” I tell him, trying to convince him that everything is going to be okay. Things won’t spiral sideways. We need each other too much.
“That’s what scares me,” he says, taking a gulp of his beer and shaking off whatever else he planned to say. “So tell me about the team?”
I sat a little straighter and grinned. “I was approached by a scout.”
“You’re kidding? When? Bit soon for that, isn’t it?”
“Last game. He wants to fly me out after Christmas to discuss things more.”
“Where?”
“New York.”
“That’s incredible. I’m proud of you.”
I give him a half-hearted smile. All I’ve ever wanted was to make him proud, and here I am about to tell him I’m not sure I want it. “I don’t know if I want to go.”
He frowns. Playing with his bottle of beer for a moment, sliding it from one hand to the other, he’s quiet and pensive. “Because of Em?”
No.
Maybe.
Yes.
Fuck.
I don’t have to say anything because he knows.
“I can’t tell you what to do. I can only tell you to think it through. Explore your options, and if it truly feels right you’ll know. I want what’s best for you and so does Em. Trust your gut.”
“I can’t leave her behind.”
“Then don’t. It’s your final year. If they really want you, which I’m guessing they do, since they approached you this early, then they’ll wait until you finish school.”
“That’s what I’m counting on.”
Chapter Five
Em
By the time Colt and Mr James returned to the cabin, Jody and I had cooked dinner and dressed the tree.
Now we were sitting by the fire enjoying eggnog. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I didn’t like alcohol when she poured me a glass. But, if you’re not safe drinking with the people who love you most, you’ll never be.
My feet were in Colt’s lap, and he was rubbing them gently. His eyes were closed and his head tipped back against the cushions. Jody and Mr James were sitting together, reading the paper.
I sighed. Content. Happy. This was the best Christmas I’d ever experienced. Thoughts of my parents never crossed my mind. Every year their presence taints the magic that the holiday brings. This year? Nothing. It couldn’t be more perfect.
Mr James yawned and stretched his arms above his head. “Well, that’s my cue.” He shoves to his feet and claps Colt on the shoulder before leaning down and dropping a kiss to the top my head.
“Don’t stay up too late, you two,” he says and turns back to Jody, reaching out his hands for her take.
She smiles at him and threads her fingers through his before looking at me. “Thanks for your help today.”
“Any time,” I say. “Night.”
After they’ve gone to bed, I get up to stoke the fire and change the music. Christmas' songs get tiresome after a while.
Warmth from Colt’s body floods me. His chest presses into my back, and it takes all my strength not to lean back into him. I know what he wants. What he’s expecting. I want it too. But his dad is right there, in the next room.
I sigh and let my eyes drift closed. His scent surrounds me, the heat from his body warming me through.
Grrr.
Why does he have to be so perfect all the time? My resolves.
No.
I won’t fall for it. I won’t succumb to his touch, no matter how good it feels. I will resist.
But he’s so warm, and perfect, and his body fits against mine like it’s made for me. It’s Christmas and he’s all I’ve ever wanted, in one way or another.
His breath on my skin, the taste of his lips, his tongue…
I groan.
Maybe moan as he presses his lips to my neck, licking and sucking the sensitive skin.
All I can think about is his hot, sweaty skin, moving against mine. The way his weight above me is just right. How my body erupts in goosebumps at his touch, responds to his, craves his. All the time.
I need more.
He stands behind me, his hands resting delicately on my hips.
“Dance with me?”
My knees buckle, give way under my weight and shot of alcohol in my eggnog. But Colt catches me, his arm wrapping around my waist and pulling me tight against his body.
I can’t help the shiver that runs up my spine or the sigh slips past my lips as we sway together, hips moving slowly, in sync.
The scruff on his face grazes my cheek as he leans closer to mine, dropping his head to my shoulder.
His thumbs brush my lower stomach as his tongue traces the curve of my shoulder.
I combust on the spot.
Panties melt.
Ovaries explode.
I’m done for. Giving in to temptation like the ball bitch he turned me into.
He was destroying me in the slowest, sweetest way. His fingers graze my stomach in search of my hand, before grasping my wrist and tugging until I spin on the spot and face him.
Cupping my face, he smirks before leaning in and licking my bottom lip. One brush of his tongue and I become hungry for more. My hands slide into his hair as my lips part. My entire body is pressed against his and it’s still not enough. It’s never enough.
Not enough of his kisses.
He’s still torturing me with the slow circular movements of his hips, pressing against me and making me hotter and more needy.
His fingers slide around my waist, gripping the hem of my shirt, and he makes to pull it off, but I stop him. “Not here,” I whisper against his lips, entwining his fingers with mine and leading him down the hall to our room.
I barely have the door closed before he’s yanking my shirt over my head and tugging on my jeans. His teeth nip my neck while his hands wrestle with the button on my jeans, before sliding them down my legs.
I kick them off and reach for his shirt, unbuttoning it as he yanks his pants down. Pulling him back to me, our mouths move together, lips sliding, tongues tangling, teeth clashing.
Colt's deft fingers unclasp my bra in record time. I push his boxers down and discard them with the rest of our clothes. He pulls me close, swaying to the music we can longer hear and dips me. And hell if that isn’t the sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced. When did he learn that move?
In one swift move, he lifts me into his arms and lowers me gently on the bed.
I smile a lazy smile at him and stretch my hands out for him. He was too far away.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Watching you,” he says, his voice deep, thick with desire.
“Making naked snow angels on your rug.”
“Why?”