Inheriting His Secret Christmas Baby(16)
Author: Heidi Betts

“Well, you’re in trouble, then. Because that one did me in. I’m ready for a nap.” Stretching her arms up over her head, she gave a wide, theatrical yawn.

“Hmm.” The sound rolled up his throat, low and thoughtful. “Guess I’ll just have to change your mind about that.”

With an exaggerated sigh, she arched her back and let her eyes drift closed. “I suppose you can try.”

Amusement flashed across his features while determination sparked in his espresso-dark eyes. “I do love a challenge.”

Oh, so did she. But where this one was concerned, she didn’t think she’d last very long.

Returning his mouth to the side of her neck, he kissed her pulse point, then let his tongue dart out to lick the spot, followed by gentle sucking. That alone sent her heart racing…a fact she was sure he could feel beneath his lips.

He kissed a trail up the line of her throat, over her jaw and to her mouth. That was when she discovered what a kiss really was. Not counting that first scorcher in the kitchen. Or the second scorcher outside her bedroom door.

When their lips met, it was as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room in one giant gulp. And when his tongue delved inside to tangle with hers, everything around them burst into flame.

Tiny explosions went off in her bloodstream, making her wrap both her arms and legs around him even more tightly. She stroked his hair, his shoulders, his back. Moaned when he began to do the same at her br**sts. Soon his mouth followed, licking, circling, gently suckling until her n**ples were stiff, pebbled peaks, so sensitive, she could hardly stand it.

She’d known from the start that Trevor was a man used to getting his way, one who didn’t like to lose. Now she also knew never to challenge him or doubt his determination. Because even though she’d only been teasing when she’d mentioned leaving him to his own devices, she was now very interested and very much involved, whether she liked it or not.

Which didn’t mean she was going to let him be in control—at least not entirely. Working her hands between their bodies, she used her thumbs to toy with his own tiny, flat n**ples…and earned herself a deep groan.

Given Trevor’s love of outdoor sports and his level of activity, it shouldn’t have surprised her that he had an amazing physique. But truly, she thought, he was amazing.

Almost everything about him was rock solid—biceps, pectorals, six-pack abs. He should be the poster boy for the local gym, or even for Jarrod Ridge.

Put a tanned, sweaty, half-naked Trevor on a few posters advertising the best skiing, rock climbing, whitewater rafting in the state, and men and women alike would flock to Aspen in droves. The men in hopes of getting a bit of his adventurous streak to rub off, the women in hopes of tracking down Trevor and checking out all of those sinewy male muscles for themselves.

Yet for now, at least, they were all hers.

Letting her fingertips slide down the center of his chest, she stroked her way to another hard, impressive muscle. She brushed the backs of her knuckles up and down his velvety length, smiling when he released her mouth in order to draw in some much-needed air.

“You’re killing me,” he panted, a lock of dark hair falling forward over his brow.

“Not yet,” she murmured in her best sultry, Marilyn Monroe voice, “but soon. If you’re lucky.”

He gave a breathy chuckle, then startled a small yip out of her when he rolled and shifted until he was sitting in the middle of the bed and she was perched above him, her bottom perched on his knees.

“Do your worst,” he told her. “I can take it.”

“Do you have a condom?”

Trevor stretched out an arm, patting the top of the comforter until he found the foil packet he’d dropped within reach earlier. Holding it between two fingers, he offered it to Haylie, a punch of longing slamming into his solar plexus when she took the square from him and tore it open with her teeth.

Oh, yeah. Taking her to bed was definitely one of his better ideas. Maybe not smart in the long run, but at the moment, he considered it freaking brilliant.

He sucked in a breath and clutched the bedspread in his fists to keep from shooting off like a rocket when she covered him with the thin layer of latex. She was barely touching him, and it certainly wasn’t the first time a woman had put a condom on him, but for some reason, having Haylie do it—watching her do it—was one of the most erotic experiences of his life.

And if he survived the rest of the night—which, at this point, was doubtful, very doubtful—he swore to repay her for every little bit of torture she was doling out on him. What was good for the goose, tit for tat, and all that.

Once the protection was in place, Haylie lifted up on her knees, hovering over him as she ran her fingers through his hair, tipped his head back and kissed him. Softly, sweetly, and arousing as hell. As though he needed any more fuel thrown on his fire.

While their mouths were still locked together, she reached between them to wrap a hand around his straining erection…a move that had him gripping her waist and thrusting his tongue even deeper. Positioning herself just right, she sank down, inch by agonizing inch, until she was fully seated, taking him to the hilt.

Sensation swamped him, and from the digging of her nails into the meat of his shoulders, he suspected she was feeling the same.

As promised, he let her set the pace. For several long minutes, all they did was kiss, which was just fine with him. He thought he could probably spend from now until eternity kissing this woman and never get bored. Her taste and texture were just too damn intoxicating.

When she was ready, though, she began to move. Carefully at first, lifting herself only an inch or two. Then sliding back down. Again and again until his teeth ached from the delicious friction and his muscles twitched from holding back.

Just as his already thready control was about to snap, she broke their kiss, gasping for air and arching so that her br**sts were right in front of his face. And how could he resist such a delectable offering? Flicking his tongue over one raspberry tip, he urged her on, wanting to increase the burn of satisfaction for her the way she was for him.

He watched her cheeks flush and the pale curve of her lashes flutter as her eyes closed. His own eyes were wide open, and he intended to keep them that way. He wanted to see every shift of color across her skin, every hitch of her chest with her rapid breaths, every degree of pleasure that showed on her face.

And when she came again—very soon, if he had anything to say about it—he wanted to see that, too.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her closer. Her br**sts flattened against his chest, sweat-slick skin to sweat-slick skin. She rearranged her legs to circle his hips, ankles locking and riding the small of his back, and he let his hands float along the small indentation of her spine until his fingers could twist in her hair, bring her mouth closer to his own.

Lips and tongues met, twined, fought for dominance, while at the same time, their lower bodies moved in tandem. His back and forth, hers up and down, creating ripples of bone-melting sensation that brought them closer and closer to the edge.

And then they were over. Haylie gasped, shuddering and spasming around him. The feel of her body tightening, clenching on his rocked him to his core and straight to a cli**x of epic proportions.

Squeezing her hard enough to break something, he gave one more high, powerful thrust before his body stiffened and he spilled inside her.

Eleven

Hours later, Haylie shifted in her sleep, bobbing toward consciousness. She was warm and cozy and more comfortable than she could remember being in a long, long time.

And then she realized why. A heavy arm draped her waist, a heavy male body framing her from behind.

She was in Trevor’s bed. In Trevor’s arms.

A stab of something… Fear? Regret? Clutched her heart even as she admitted to herself that making love with him was one of, if not the, most amazing sexual experiences of her life. It complicated things, without a doubt, but it had also made her eyes roll back in her head.

Before she could decide whether to stay and drift back to sleep or extricate herself from Trevor’s firm hold and sneak back to her own room, she heard a squeak.

Bradley. That must have been what had awakened her in the first place.

Doing her best not to wake Trevor, she lifted his arm from her waist and slowly rolled out of bed. Her robe was a mass of wrinkled material on the floor, where it had gotten tossed hours earlier, but she picked it up, shook it out to find which end was up, and quickly covered herself, tying the sash as she tiptoed out the door.

Her bare feet padded on the cool hardwood floor as she crossed the hall to her room. Inside, Bradley was lying on his back in the crib, face crinkled and arms and legs flailing as he fussed.

She scooped him up, patting his back as she carried him downstairs to the kitchen to fix a quick bottle. Taking the baby and the bottle back upstairs, while Bradley drank she sat in the beautiful, hand-carved rocking chair Trevor had insisted she have.

Once Bradley’s belly was full and he’d fallen asleep again, she put him in a clean diaper and returned him to the crib, hopefully for the rest of the night. She didn’t even know what time it was and had to check the clock when she returned the dirty bottle to the kitchen.

Five after two. She had to be up again in only four more hours. But the question now became, did she go to her room and spend those hours alone…or return to Trevor’s bed and curl up next to his warm, firm body?

Oh, she so wanted to do the latter. The thought was almost irresistible. But that didn’t mean it was smart. Sleeping with him once had been stupid enough; better not to compound that by making Bad Decision Number Two.

Rinsing the baby bottle, she left it in the sink to be dealt with in the morning, and turned to head back upstairs. A shadow fell across the tiled floor, rising over her and sending her back a step. She opened her mouth to scream, then quickly caught herself as her eyes adjusted and she realized she wasn’t about to be swallowed whole by the abominable snow monster.

“Good lord,” she breathed, slapping a hand over her chest to stop the rapid pounding of her heart, “you scared the life out of me.”

Rather than offer an apology, Trevor’s dark eyes blinked sleepily and he rubbed a hand through his tousled hair. He’d pulled on a pair of blue-and-white-striped flannel pajama bottoms, but both his feet and chest were still bare.

She’d never noticed before how sexy his feet were. Of course, the last time he’d been wearing so few clothes she hadn’t exactly been interested in his toes.

“I woke up and you were gone,” he said in a tired, gravelly voice.

“The baby woke me,” she told him. Not that she owed him an explanation. If she’d been smart, she would have sneaked out of bed even without Bradley’s prompting and locked herself in the guest room, well away from roving hands and tempting lips.

“Is he okay?”

She nodded. “Needed a bottle and a new diaper. He’s back to sleep now.”

Trevor tipped his head, which she took as a sign of approval. Then he took a step forward. And another. And another.

Haylie retreated, not sure what his intentions were, until the counter stopped her. But it didn’t stop Trevor. He continued stalking her until his chest brushed the tips of her br**sts. She wondered if he could feel her n**ples budding through the thin satin of her robe.