Kiss Me on This Cold December Night by Charlotte Phillips Page A

exasperated. ‘Unlike you I don’t take half a dozen bags with me just for a weekend. I’ll throw a few things in a case in the morning and I’ll be away.’
    Her heart gave a sudden little half-skip.
    â€˜The morning?’ she said.
    He nodded.
    â€˜Half past ten. Tomorrow morning.’
    She drew in a sharp breath. He held her gaze steadily in his own. One last night together.
    He pulled her towards him, lacing his fingers through hers. He hadn’t mentioned
them
, what would happen to them tomorrow, and why would he? They’d both known from the outset that this was a fling. Same rules as last time. And that meant tomorrow morning it would be over. Why should she expect him to mention it when she’d made her own point of view crystal clear from the very beginning? Yet she already felt the wrench deep in her stomach. She shoved it from her mind with all her might.
    Live in the moment.
    She’d repeated that mantra to herself so often over the years that you’d think it would have a bit of clout now when she really needed it.
    ***
    It was not the mad crazy sex of the last couple of days, the hungry rush for each other. Not this time. Tom wanted to savour her, to try and imprint on his mind how it felt to be with her. No wild tearing off each other’s clothes, no half-dressed fuck because they were both too charged up to do anything but rush.
    This time he kissed her slowly, slid his hands beneath her shirt across smooth skin, making the most of every moment. She pulled his sweatshirt up and over his head, threw it carelessly to one side, and then her hand found the button of his jeans and tugged until it came free. He pushed them down and away. Her fingertips played lightly over his erection, teasing, driving him crazy.
    He breathed in the scent of her hair and her light floral perfume, slid his lips across the smooth skin of her neck, and then she raised her hand to the centre of his chest and pushed him gently backward until he reached the nearest bed. He sat down and watched as she stepped out of her jeans and threw her panties aside, then climbed onto the bed and walked on her knees until she reached him, his back against the velvet headboard. He reached for her, curling his arms around her waist and pulling her gently into his lap, finding her mouth with his. Her small hands cradled his face as she kissed him. He could pick up the faint hint of white wine on her tongue. She wriggled softly against him until she could slide her legs each side of him. Hotly aware that she was wearing no panties beneath the shirt, he felt her smile against his lips, leaving him under no illusion that she knew exactly what she was doing to him, while she ground her hips lightly against his raging erection. The sensation was unbelievable, maddening.
    He groped for the buttons of her shirt with his fingers, tugging the garment roughly open until he could ease the soft weight of her breasts into the deep open vee of it. He leaned forward and took the tight peak of a nipple into his mouth, sucking lightly, grazing the hard tip gently with his teeth until she sighed and arched her back. Sliding his free hand lower, he found her swollen entrance with his fingertips and a rush of satisfaction at how wet she was, how ready for him. He stroked delicately, teasing her with his fingers until she squirmed against his hand.
    Before he could lose all control, he curled arms around her, turned her gently onto her back and kissed his way down the hollow between her breasts. Removing her shirt as he went, revealing her skin inch by inch to be kissed, he trailed his lips over her soft stomach then lower still, feeling her tense in anticipation as he reached the very core of her. He parted her softly with a single stroke of his tongue, then found the swollen nub and drew it into his mouth, sucking gently, feeling every jump and flutter of her muscles as she responded. He slid hands across the warm silk of her skin,