real stamina, sweetheart, call a Marine.”
“Ooh-rah,” she said as she slid into the hot water.
“Exactly.” He sat down on a bench and pulled her onto his lap facing him as he lowered her onto his erection. “The Marines have landed and the situation is well in hand.”
18
Kelli woke the next morning to an empty bed. The bed where Cole had spent much of the night making such slow, sweet love to her, he’d actually made her weep. The sheets on his side were cold, revealing he’d been up for a while.
When she heard the steady
thunk
,
thunk
,
thunk
, she understood why.
And this time her tears were not from joy, but for whatever demons he’d brought home with him that seemed to be keeping him from sleep.
Part of her wanted to ask. Another, stronger part decided that he’d tell her when he felt safe with her. And in order for that to happen, she was going to have to practice patience.
After all, she’d waited for Cole her entire life. She already had so much more of him than she’d had only two days ago. What would a little more time hurt?
The next three days passed in a gilt-edged blur. They’d slipped back into their old friendship, something she’d feared they’d lost forever, as they decorated her foolish little tree, played in the snow like children, made love in that oversized, lion-footed bathtub, watched the sappy movies that would always make her weep and sigh with pleasure, and when they weren’t doing those things, they were making love in every way possible. And a few Kelli hadn’t, even in a million years, imagined.
“I just realized,” she said, as they sat in front of the fire, watching the dancing flames as Bing Crosby crooned about missing a white Christmas. “It’s Christmas Eve.”
“So it is.” He drew her mouth to his and kissed her with an easy familiarity gained from a great deal of practice over the past few days.
“I promised my mother I’d open one of my presents tonight. So it’d feel like our family was all together.”
The gifts were under the lighted tree. “Which one?” he asked as he crouched down.
“The silver one. From the dress shop.”
When he handed it to her, Kelli found herself wishing that she’d thought to buy him something. But they hadn’t exactly been on the best of terms when they’d parted after the holiday program.
She carefully took off the silver wrapping, then folded back the tissue paper. “Oh,” she breathed as she held up the white silk nightgown. “It’s obvious my mother was in on the subterfuge.”
“Apparently.” His took in the silk pooling over her hands. “Are you going to try it on for me?”
“Absolutely.” Feeling a strange modesty at odds with the nudity she’d grown comfortable with around Cole, she took it into the bedroom, stripped off her robe—she’d quit wearing the flannel pajamas because he’d certainly provided her with enough heat—and felt it skim over her body like a silken waterfall.
“Oh wow.” She looked at herself in the mirror. It was almost as if a stranger were looking back at her. The perky kindergarten teacher had vanished, leaving in her place the type of siren portrayed in all those movies that were her second-favorite genre behind holiday ones. Rita Hayworth, Susan Hayward, Ingrid Bergman, Bette Davis, all wrapped up into one sexy silk package. The kind of woman who could treat a man wrong and make him beg for more.
Enjoying that idea, she fluffed her hair with her hands. Dug through her cosmetic bag and located a scarlet-as-sin lipstick she’d bought on a whim for the Christmas program, only to chicken out at the last minute. Wishing she had a pair of the marabou mule slippers sexy seductresses in those films always seemed to wear with their filmy negligees, she decided she had no choice but to go with bare feet.
Taking a deep breath, she channeled an inner temptress she’d begun to discover lurking inside her, and opened the door.
Cole was rearranging the fire while
“Ooh-rah,” she said as she slid into the hot water.
“Exactly.” He sat down on a bench and pulled her onto his lap facing him as he lowered her onto his erection. “The Marines have landed and the situation is well in hand.”
18
Kelli woke the next morning to an empty bed. The bed where Cole had spent much of the night making such slow, sweet love to her, he’d actually made her weep. The sheets on his side were cold, revealing he’d been up for a while.
When she heard the steady
thunk
,
thunk
,
thunk
, she understood why.
And this time her tears were not from joy, but for whatever demons he’d brought home with him that seemed to be keeping him from sleep.
Part of her wanted to ask. Another, stronger part decided that he’d tell her when he felt safe with her. And in order for that to happen, she was going to have to practice patience.
After all, she’d waited for Cole her entire life. She already had so much more of him than she’d had only two days ago. What would a little more time hurt?
The next three days passed in a gilt-edged blur. They’d slipped back into their old friendship, something she’d feared they’d lost forever, as they decorated her foolish little tree, played in the snow like children, made love in that oversized, lion-footed bathtub, watched the sappy movies that would always make her weep and sigh with pleasure, and when they weren’t doing those things, they were making love in every way possible. And a few Kelli hadn’t, even in a million years, imagined.
“I just realized,” she said, as they sat in front of the fire, watching the dancing flames as Bing Crosby crooned about missing a white Christmas. “It’s Christmas Eve.”
“So it is.” He drew her mouth to his and kissed her with an easy familiarity gained from a great deal of practice over the past few days.
“I promised my mother I’d open one of my presents tonight. So it’d feel like our family was all together.”
The gifts were under the lighted tree. “Which one?” he asked as he crouched down.
“The silver one. From the dress shop.”
When he handed it to her, Kelli found herself wishing that she’d thought to buy him something. But they hadn’t exactly been on the best of terms when they’d parted after the holiday program.
She carefully took off the silver wrapping, then folded back the tissue paper. “Oh,” she breathed as she held up the white silk nightgown. “It’s obvious my mother was in on the subterfuge.”
“Apparently.” His took in the silk pooling over her hands. “Are you going to try it on for me?”
“Absolutely.” Feeling a strange modesty at odds with the nudity she’d grown comfortable with around Cole, she took it into the bedroom, stripped off her robe—she’d quit wearing the flannel pajamas because he’d certainly provided her with enough heat—and felt it skim over her body like a silken waterfall.
“Oh wow.” She looked at herself in the mirror. It was almost as if a stranger were looking back at her. The perky kindergarten teacher had vanished, leaving in her place the type of siren portrayed in all those movies that were her second-favorite genre behind holiday ones. Rita Hayworth, Susan Hayward, Ingrid Bergman, Bette Davis, all wrapped up into one sexy silk package. The kind of woman who could treat a man wrong and make him beg for more.
Enjoying that idea, she fluffed her hair with her hands. Dug through her cosmetic bag and located a scarlet-as-sin lipstick she’d bought on a whim for the Christmas program, only to chicken out at the last minute. Wishing she had a pair of the marabou mule slippers sexy seductresses in those films always seemed to wear with their filmy negligees, she decided she had no choice but to go with bare feet.
Taking a deep breath, she channeled an inner temptress she’d begun to discover lurking inside her, and opened the door.
Cole was rearranging the fire while
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