A Peyton Family Christmas

“I think they would both like that.”

Derek grinned and eased his fingers down to her unprotected side. “And I?m going to ask your father before I steal his jet.”

She laughed and twisted away from the tickling touch. “Not to point out the obvious, Gabriel, but that?s called borrowing.”

Before he could reply, Kat appeared, followed by a blinding flash of light that made the room appear as a ghostly inverted image until he blinked it free.

“Candid shots,” Kat proclaimed, grinning at them both. “This camera is so awesome it?s wrong. The digital zoom is out of control.”

“Michelle knows a thing or two about gift giving.” Nick rose and held out her hand. “I want a few of you and Derek.”

Judging by the reluctance with which Kat handed over the camera, Michelle had indeed done an excellent job. Derek let his cousin drag him to his feet and donned the required Santa hat with a dour expression he had to feign.

His family was happy. Nick?s family was happy. They were safe. They were together.

After the last few months of heartache, it was the best gift of all. A Christmas miracle.

* * *

Nick almost tripped over the threshold and had to fight to keep hold of her armload of presents as she steadied herself. “How much booze did you guys put in the eggnog?”

“Enough.” Even Derek seemed a little unsteady, though he was carrying twice as many packages. “Your sister takes her gift giving seriously.”

“She?s always loved Christmas.” After a moment of trying to remember whether she held anything breakable, Nick began to carefully place the boxes and bags on the coffee table. “Can you catch the lights? Just the tree, though.”

Derek deposited his stash haphazardly on the table before moving to obey.

“It was a good night. Good food, family, I think I even saw your father laughing.”

She peeled off her coat, sank onto the couch and kicked off her shoes. “He?s happy,” she said simply. Happy to have his daughters safe, not to mention...

“You saw him laughing, and I?m pretty sure I saw him holding Mahalia?s hand.”

“Bullshit.” Even in the dark, Derek seemed to have no trouble finding the plug for their Christmas tree. Lights flickered on, the steady glow of white joined by the colorful bulbs that flashed in impossible to predict patterns.

“I?d say it was the liquor talking, but I saw what I saw.” She held out her arms. “Come here.”

He did, but not into her arms. Instead he sank to the floor in front of her, easing his body between her knees. “Thank you, Nicky, for all the presents.

Especially stealing your dad?s plane.”

“You?re welcome.” Her heart thumped, and she sat forward and framed his face with her hands. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” His breath ghosted over her lips as he leaned in almost—

almost—close enough to kiss her. “So what?s it gonna be, Peyton? Run now, or run later?”

“It?s cold outside.” She slipped one hand to the back of his neck and eased it under his collar, relishing the heat of his bare skin. “Warm in here, though.”

“Mmm.” His hands dropped to her hips and then slipped up under her shirt. “About to get warmer.”

Nick shivered and slid off the couch to land astride his lap. “On the floor, no less.”

He just laughed as his fingers danced up her spine, dragging her shirt along with them. “Nothing new with that.”

“No, not new.” She raised her arms to let him coax her shirt over her head.

His hands were strong on her skin—confident, like he was so used to touching her already that he knew exactly how to do it.

“Maybe in twenty years I?ll be patient enough to make it to a bed.” In spite of the teasing words, he took his time, lowering his lips to hers with only the slightest pressure. “Thirty years. Fifty, tops.”

“Who cares? Floor?s good enough for me.” She nuzzled his jaw and wove her fingers into his hair. “The floors, walls, chairs, kitchen counter—I?m game.”

“The woods.” He kissed her jaw and licked a path down her throat, teasing every once in a while with a hint of teeth. “Plenty of room to run here, as long as we don?t spook the horses.”

“Or the ranch hands.” A careful shift of her hips settled her body more closely against his, close enough to feel his arousal through their clothes. She moved again, this time with a whimper, and bit his ear.

“That?s it.” One hand tangled in her hair, tilted her head back to bare her throat for another bite. “Wiggle all you want. I like it.”

“I know.” She laughed and clutched him tight. “I want to marry you. Be your wife.”

“Good thing I already proposed.” This time his teeth caught the strap of her bra. “I?m not stopping for anything.”

“Not even if a jolly old man with a big belly drops down the chimney?”

“Woman, your dirty talk is getting twisted.”

Nick?s giggle dissolved into a moan. “Yeah? I haven?t even gotten to the part about the elves yet.”

Derek groaned and lifted his head. “This better not be some kinky roleplay fantasy, because I?m not putting on a big red suit.”

“That?s okay.” She tugged impatiently at his shirt. “I like you better naked anyway.”

“Naked?s good.” The shirt fell away, leaving his chest bare to her touch. He caught both of her hands and pulled them to his shoulders with a soft growl.

“Touch me, Nicky.”

Her fingers curled, just a little, molding to the hard, muscled planes of his chest. She shuddered, suddenly desperate to do more, so she licked his collarbone. “Taste you?”

“Only if you want me to return the favor.”

He?d do it, too—push her down to the rug and make her scream with his fingers and tongue. Nick gasped a curse and rocked down against him as she scraped her teeth over his shoulder.

Derek let out a choked noise and closed his hands on her hips. The world tilted as he lifted her, almost threw her back on the couch, then groped for the fastening on her pants. “Naked. Naked is necessary.”

She lifted her hips so he could strip the denim away and clutched at the back of the couch as he started at her chin and began a slow, dedicated march down her body, dropping kisses to her collarbones and nips to the curve of her breast.

It was sheer sensual torture, and Nick whispered pleas and encouragement when he lingered over sensitive spots. Her body throbbed with pleasure and anticipation, both of which skyrocketed when he settled between her legs with a wicked smile. “Now?”

She?d beg if she had to. “Please, Derek. Make me come.”

He gave her a soft touch. Knowing fingers stroking over her, teasing her with the promise of pleasure. Then his lips, his tongue, and he wasn?t teasing anymore, but demanding, using his knowledge of her body in the very best way.

It made no sense that he could know her so well so quickly, but he did.

Nick clutched his head, her fingers tight in his hair. She clenched her jaw, but couldn?t stay silent. “Christ,” she panted, arching off the cushions. “Jesus Christ.”

“Come on, baby,” he whispered, stroking his fingers deeper. “Come for me.”

Come. Yes, another gift she could give him—the gift of her pleasure. Her trust. She sucked in a ragged breath as the tense wave crested and crashed through her, but all that escaped her lips was a whisper. His name, as much of a prayer as a plea.

His touch vanished as she drifted down, and she heard the sound of frantic rustling. He had to be looking for