body. His chest hair abraded her nipples, his erection pressed hard against her belly.
He still desired her.
His hands cupped her bottom and the angle of his head changed to take her mouth deeper. Heat flashed over her again and that swollen place between her legs throbbed in time with her pumping heart.
Her panting breaths rubbed her nipples against his chest and his smooth penis still kissed her abdomen. But it wasn’t enough.
Not enough closeness.
Not enough sensation.
She pushed closer, and his leg slid between hers. His tongue pushed deep as his knee lifted, pressed steadily against the empty place between her thighs. Groaning, she ground herself against it, without regard for daylight or heartbreak or maturity. Did middle-aged women desire like this?
“Do me,” she whispered against his lips, astonished at the raunchiness of her words. A little pleased. She lifted her mouth. “Do me now.”
His eyes narrowed. “Then get on the bed.”
Out of a thousand years’ habit, she half turned to pull back the covers.
“I didn’t tell you to do anything but get on the bed.”
Tracy froze, then glanced over her shoulder at him. “But…” But this was a stranger in her bedroom and he looked determined to have his way.
She slowly climbed onto the bed, letting him have a full-on view of her butt, even as she thought,
“Hurry up.” Dan put his big hand on the curve of her waist, flipping her to her back and then coming between her legs. “I want to get inside of you.”
His knees pushed her legs wide. His penis took aim, headed in.
“Wait.” Tracy placed her palm on his chest, keeping him at bay. “Protection.”
The man blinked. “What? Protection?”
“Condoms. I don’t know where you’ve been sleeping.”
His jaw tensed. “Tracy-”
“No condom, no come.” She was pretty pleased with the pithy phrase, even though her blood was screaming to get on with it, for him to get on
“Where the hell do you expect me-?”
“My son’s bathroom.” At least he wasn’t carrying them in his pockets. Or at least he pretended he wasn’t. “Right across the hall.”
He didn’t say he knew where Harry’s bathroom was. He didn’t protest about the protection any longer. Instead he vaulted off the bed and then returned in a flash, foil packets spread like a poker hand in his fingers.
“Feeling lucky?” she asked.
“No. But I feel like screwing.” His head lowered. His body lowered. His latex-covered erection felt like heaven against her wetness. “I feel like screwing you.”
They didn’t use each other’s names.
They didn’t say much of anything.
Instead, palm to palm, fingers gripping hard, they tumbled on the bed, trembled in each other’s arms, worked hard for release.
Tracy-still not recognizing herself or her lust-turned her head and bit the pillow to keep from screaming when she came.
Dan bit her shoulder as he finished.
Then they were on their backs, side-by-side, not touching. Separate again.
A familiar position.
When he turned to his side to look at her, she kept her gaze on the ceiling.
“We haven’t-”
“No.” They hadn’t fixed anything.
“I won’t apologize.”
“Don’t.” Amazingly, she’d wanted it as much as he.
He rolled off the bed, then reached for his clothes. She watched the newly firm curve of his butt until it was hidden behind his jeans. He pulled his key ring from his front pocket.
There were keys on it she didn’t recognize.
Just as she didn’t recognize herself.
She hated him all over again.
But she curled into a C to keep the anger inside her and bit back her crone shriek as he let himself out of what had once been their house.
Santa Claus’s history traces back to a fourth-century bishop named St. Nicholas. He was credited with bringing three boys back to life, and thus became the patron saint of children.
Chapter 10
Finn watched Tanner slide a cup of coffee onto the bar in front of him, lining it up with the Coke, 7-Up, and glass of iced virgin Bloody Mary already waiting there. He’d been too restless to sit around Gram’s house all evening, but he’d made himself a promise to avoid hitting the alcohol. Two binges a month were his limit.
Not to mention the trouble he’d gotten into last time he was drunk. Tonight he was determined to keep himself jam-free.
Maybe a bar wasn’t the best destination for him, but after Gram had gone to bed, within minutes he’d been sick of his own company and the replays of past and recent life experiences that continued to run through his brain. The only relief he’d come up with was to leave the house in search of safe, like-minded company.
Tanner was the other most messed-up man he knew.
Finn cupped his palms around the hot ceramic mug. “The Mad Gift Giver struck again.”
Tanner shook back his newly long, pretty-boy blond hair. “What now?”
“Late Friday afternoon, when Gram and I came back from her doctor’s appointment-”
“Anything new there?”
Finn focused on his coffee, edging it closer to the Coke so that there was equal distance between his beverages. “No. I told you. She’s on the road to recovery. As I was saying though, when we came home from her doctor’s appointment, there was a set of knight’s armor waiting for me on the porch.”
“Need I ask? Real knight’s armor?”
“Your guess is as good as mine, though it looks museum quality to my admittedly untrained eye. It’s life-sized and filled with Tootsie Rolls from metal heels to metal helmet.”
Tanner swigged down half a glass of ice water. “Good candy choice, at least.”
“She must be nervous about coming by the bar because there was also something left for you.”
The other man carefully set the glass down. “Don’t tell me what it is.”
Finn couldn’t help his grin. It had been a good idea to come to the bar and hang with his buddy. “One of those big, five-pound-”
“I said don’t tell me!”
