Baby, It's Cold Outside

3

EMILY WAS SHAKING by the time she’d made it to her bed. It had taken all her courage to make that dramatic speech. She’d never acted so cavalier about sex before, especially considering Colin had called it right on the money—she’d only had sex with two other people in her entire life. She wanted him, though, and she knew that if she didn’t act as if she could coolly handle a one-night stand, he was principled enough and compassionate enough to never touch her. So she’d put on a very convincing act.

Obviously sexual frustration was making her brave, not to mention revealing talents she didn’t even know she had. On the other hand, it might also be making her stupid.

Colin stepped into her room and she held her breath.

But this is going to be worth it.

He closed the door behind him. The bedroom was lit with candles, a multitude of votives washing the pale green walls with a warm glow. She had no silk sheets to trot out—her thick comforter and flannel sheets were meant to keep her toasty during the bitter winter nights.

She got the feeling staying warm would not be an issue tonight.

Besides, the last thing he seemed interested in was his surroundings. He only had eyes for her, and she shivered—not from any chill in the air but from the intensity of his gaze.

Emily leaned back on the bed, forcing herself not to cover up her body with her arms. She felt a delicious rush of anticipation roll through her and she rubbed her legs together, the friction lessening as her body began to get wet at the mere thought of him.

He took off his shirt, and she smiled in appreciation of the purely masculine beauty of his torso. His muscles bunched and flexed as he removed the rest of his clothes. When he stripped out of his boxers, she couldn’t help but goggle a little. It had been a while, after all, since she’d seen a naked man, much less one in all his erect glory.

He smiled. “Stop it. You’ll make me blush.”

She wanted to toss back some witty comment, but words seemed lodged in her throat. Instead she put her arms out, inviting him.

Colin spread out next to her on the flannel sheets, kicking the covers out of the way. He felt like a furnace, and she warmed herself against him, shuddering at the slide of skin over skin. He kissed her neck, her collarbone, her shoulder. His hand stroked gently over her hip before sliding up and cupping her breast.

She gasped softly as sensation seeped through her like a hot bath. When he started to pull away, she grabbed his hand, keeping it on her breast. Moaning, she closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation as his mouth increased its pressure on her neck and his thumb gently circled her nipple. She stroked her leg against his, her breathing coming in soft, sweet exhalations.

“Emily,” he murmured, then his mouth found hers and claimed it with a slow thoroughness. His tongue teased hers, and she teased back, the back-and-forth a precursor to the joining she really wanted. His other hand found her other breast, and he stroked expertly. Her fingers dug into his firm shoulders in response.

After what seemed like a pleasurable eternity, he released one breast. She whimpered in protest, only to stop when his hand moved lower, reaching between her thighs and dipping into her moist heat. She bit her lip as the sensation overwhelmed her. He gently parted the folds of skin until he found her sleek clit and rubbed it with firm precision. She felt pressure building up in her and she arched her back, trying to bring herself in closer contact with the man who was causing her to react so strongly. He kept working at it, insistently, delicately, until she thought she would explode.

Then he pressed a finger into her, and she couldn’t help it. She came, and it was more than an explosion…it was a supernova. She threw her head back, letting the experience rock her.

When she came back to Earth, she looked at him and saw he had a beatific smile on his face. “That was…” She struggled to find a word that covered it and couldn’t.

“You’re welcome,” he said, winking at her. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a screamer.”

The blush washed over her entire body. She was sure he noticed, but she didn’t care. “I didn’t know I was,” she admitted. “I don’t think I was before.”

“You don’t say.” He moved his head down, sucking first on one nipple, then the other.

Emily still felt desire, but the raw, slicing edge of it had been dulled by her orgasm. Now she was hungry for him, but she wasn’t starving the way she’d been before. She could take her time, and enjoy the interplay of their bodies much more intently.

I don’t know when I’ll have this sort of chance again, she thought. I’m going to make every moment count.

She nudged his head up, and he sent her a puzzled look. “Your turn,” she said, smiling wickedly.

“Oh?”

She pushed him down against the mattress, enjoying the way his erect cock stood, large and prominent, demanding attention. She pressed a few slow kisses against his chest, then his stomach, her tongue tracing the defined muscles. She was gratified to see his breathing go shallow. Slowly she stroked her hands on his thighs, drawing her nails down the sensitive skin. He drew in a sharp, hissing breath, releasing it in a slow, ragged sigh as she finally encircled his erection with her fingers.

“Your hands are so soft,” he marveled, his eyes closing. His hips arched up to meet her as her hands traveled up and down the length of his shaft.

“Think so? Try this,” she answered playfully, then took the head of his penis into her mouth.

He groaned loudly. She traced the head with her tongue before sucking ever so softly, caressing the velvety skin with her lips. His breathing increased in pace.

“Emily,” he rasped.

His cock was like iron wrapped in satin. She reveled in the clean, masculine taste of his skin, taking him in a few more inches, her fingers stroking the round globes of his balls.

After a few moments, he reached down, pulling her up roughly. “I have to be inside you,” he said, his voice coarse with need. “Now.”

She smiled, feeling triumphant. He sounded just the way she’d felt when he’d given her that first orgasm. She liked that she might be able to make this man tremble, mindless with need. “Condom,” she breathed, reaching over on her nightstand and getting one of the newly purchased foil packets. She tore it open, rolling it onto him slowly, taunting him with it. He was shaking by the time she was done.

He rolled her onto her back, and she felt the glorious weight of him pressing her into her mattress. He kissed her fiercely, and she responded with equal ferocity, parting her legs so he could fit himself at her snug opening. She felt the head of his cock slide slightly between her wet folds. He reached down, teasing her clit with his hardness until she was gasping with desire, her legs twining around his as she struggled to bring him closer.

“I want you inside me,” she said.

Without a word, he finally relented and thrust into her, filling her completely. It felt so incredibly good she could have cried. She circled her hips, instinctively tightened her muscles as she enveloped him in her warmth.

He groaned, withdrawing slowly, and she moaned in return. “Deeper,” she breathed, and he returned, with maddening patience, going farther into her. Her legs tightened around his hips, cradling him inside her.

“Colin.” She shivered as the first luscious tremors of passion inched through her. “I’m almost there….”

Taking her cue, he increased his speed, his hips moving more quickly as his cock moved in and out of her willing wetness. Emily felt her body start to tighten and she ran her nails down his back as her hips bucked to meet his every thrust.

“Baby, I’m going to…” he groaned, and she cried out in approval. The two of them were frenzied in their joining, as if they couldn’t get close enough to each other. He let out a guttural shout as he emptied himself into her with a hard, definitive motion, triggering an orgasm that eclipsed her first. She cried out again, a sound of pure pleasure, as her body clutched around him. To her surprise, he shuddered again as their hips melded together, rocking in the aftershocks of climax.

After long moments, he rolled off her, leaving them both sweaty and breathless. He stared at her, his green eyes like beacons.

“You were right,” he said. “I would have regretted saying no to you for my entire life.”

She basked in the compliment of his words, even as a small part of her conscious brain registered what he was saying.

This is a one-night stand. She’d just had her world spun on its axis by a man she’d fantasized about for years…but this was it. This was all she was going to get.

Is this going to be worth it?

She glanced at him. In the aftermath of sex, he still looked sinfully tempting. There was no sense of regret, no lingering return of reason that asked her, What were you thinking? She knew exactly what she’d been thinking when she decided to seduce Colin Reese. She knew because she was still thinking it.

But what are you going to do when you can’t have him again?

He’d made it clear that there was no future. He was leaving, crossing an ocean to get away from Tall Pines. He was certainly not about to return to the small town that he had caused so much grief—and which wanted to return the favor by prying into every minute detail of his now almost famous local-rebel-makes-good life.

So where does that leave you?

She sighed. It left her here, in Tall Pines. Alone.

He leaned over, kissing where her heart beat. “You are going to haunt me,” he said softly.

He was going to haunt her, too. But then again, it never could have lasted. She’d been well aware of that going into this little arrangement.

She might settle for the comfort of friendship and a passionless relationship, she thought as his fingers brushed over the surface of her skin, bringing the nerve endings to life. She was a realist. Would she ever find a man she reacted to as strongly as she did to Colin? She could either agonize over the question or simply enjoy the moment.

Tonight was all they had, and she would make the most of it.

“You have to leave at nine tomorrow, you said?” Emily asked.

“Uh-huh.”

“We’ve still got hours,” she reminded him, just as she had before, in the living room.

“Really,” he drawled. “What shall we do with ourselves?”

She smiled, licking her lips. “As it happens,” she said, her voice husky with sexual promise, “I’ve got a few ideas I’d love to try.”

“I SAID, WHERE TO, mister?” the cab driver asked, slowly and carefully, as if Colin were hard of hearing.

Colin guessed that the man must have repeated the question several times. “Sorry,” he said. “I need to get to the airport in Hartford.”

The cabbie snorted. “I’ll give it a shot.” The taxi began slowly creeping out of the Stanfield Arms’s circular driveway.

Colin stared out the window in a daze. The entire town of Tall Pines was smothered in mountainous drifts of snow, making the whole scene seem oddly muted. It only added to Colin’s feeling of surreal displacement.

Did last night really happen?

Yes, it had happened—and in a way was still happening for him, since he’d gotten no more than a catnap or two the entire night. Once he’d given in to his urge and slept with Emily, it was as if he couldn’t get enough of her. Fortunately, she’d seemed to feel the same way, because the two of them had feasted on each other for hours, and even now weariness hadn’t quite settled in.

They’d made love twice in the bed, once in front of the fireplace, once in the shower and once on the countertop of her bathroom. He hadn’t had sex like that for years. His body felt well used, just this side of sore. His mind, on the other hand, kept replaying the more vivid highlights of the previous night—and suggesting new and exciting variations that they might try in a second round.

Pity there isn’t going to be a second round.

That was why they called them one-night stands, he reminded himself. One night. He wasn’t quite sure where the “stand” part fit in. Although now that he thought about it, the shower…

“You all right, mister?”

Colin refocused on the cab driver. “What?”

“You look sorta out of it,” the guy said, peering at Colin from his rearview mirror. “Don’t tell me. You had yourself a merry little Christmas, huh? Really tied one on?”

“You could say that,” Colin said ruefully, obviously not willing to divulge secrets.

“Hard to believe you could party that hard in a town like this. Tiny little mom-and-pop stores, all those wrought-iron lampposts with holly around ’em. It looks like an old movie or something.”

Colin looked out the window as if seeing the place with a stranger’s eyes. It was picturesque, he had to admit. The windows were decorated with paint and candles, and the streets were clear of the litter and debris that he was so used to in the sprawling cities he normally worked in. Most of the stores were brick or stone, not concrete. The houses had nice landscaping and everywhere were Christmas decorations, tasteful and old-fashioned.

“I’ll have to tell my wife about it,” the cabbie continued cheerfully. “She loves this kind of crap. You live here?”

“No,” Colin said.

“Just passin’ through, then?”

“Yup. Just passing through.” The thought brought a pang.

How long is this sensation going to last?

He’d known that sleeping with Emily was going to be trouble even before he’d set foot into her bedroom. Apparently it was going to be more trouble than he’d bargained for…and he hadn’t even been away from her for an hour.

“Well, it’s cute and all, but it’s a pure pain in the ass to get to,” the cabbie stated. “Especially with the blizzard.”

“Wait a minute,” Colin interrupted. “Especially with the what?”

“Blizzard. Man, it’s been on the news all over the place,” the cabbie said. “They’ve had travel advisories. It’s been on the radio and the television and the newspapers. Where have you been?” He shook his head. “That must’ve been one hell of a party.”

“It was,” Colin said. “I’ve got a flight to New York, then a connection to Paris. Any word on airports shutting down?”

“I think there are delays but nothing too bad,” the driver reassured him.

“Oh,” Colin said. “That’s…good.”

“Don’t sound so enthusiastic,” the cabbie joked. “Paris, huh? Ooh la la. Vacation or something?”

“No, I’m moving there.”

Without warning, his body suddenly felt exhausted. He wished the cab driver weren’t quite so chatty. Maybe it was the thought of a transatlantic flight or maybe it was the thought of leaving, he wasn’t sure. Nevertheless, his body abruptly decided to remind him that he hadn’t gotten a premium on sleep last night and he wasn’t a teenager anymore. Suddenly he was having a hard enough time staying conscious, much less carrying on a conversation.

He wondered absently whether Emily was sleeping. She’d been naked and bundled up in her bedding when he’d said goodbye. She’d smiled, kissed him and turned over so she didn’t have to see him leave.

It had been harder than he’d ever imagined to walk out that door.

“Moving to Paris? Wow. The wife would love it, but me, I can’t see leaving the States,” the cabdriver continued relentlessly.

Colin listened halfheartedly to the cabdriver’s cheerful patter. He watched as the town’s landmarks moved slowly past them, enveloped in fluffy flakes that almost turned the air white with their abundant barrage. The gazebo in the town square looked like an igloo, piled high with a dome of snow. The statue of the town’s founder waded waist deep in a drift, while the Otter Lodge sign was almost completely covered up, revealing only the “Otter.”

The cab skidded abruptly, and Colin realized he’d been drifting off. “Whoa!”

“Sorry about that,” the cabdriver said. “I’ve got chains on, but this is nuts. I haven’t seen a storm this bad in years.”

Colin wondered if Emily was going to be okay. She was up in the attic, after all, and as luxurious as the small apartment suite was, it was awfully close to the roof, which was probably piled up with tons of snow.

He suddenly had a horrible vision of the roof caving in and fought the absolutely irrational desire to have the cab turn around and return him to the inn.

Even if the roof’s not strong enough, what were you planning on doing to stop it? Hold the thing up with your arms?

He wasn’t sure what he would do. He just knew that he hated the idea of Emily in any kind of trouble. And, if he were being completely honest with himself, some part of him was searching desperately for an excuse to get back to the inn. To her.

He knew that it was stupid, but there it was.

Chalk it up to lack of sleep.

“So what kind of business are you in?” the cabdriver asked.

“I’m an architect,” Colin said.

“Houses and stuff?”

“Not exactly. My next project is a hotel on the Left Bank, about a stone’s throw from the Eiffel Tower.”

“Must be nice,” the cabdriver said with a low, appreciative whistle. “So, what, they aren’t building any hotels on this side of the ocean?”

“Now you sound like my mother,” Colin said, and the cabdriver snorted.

“Well, to each his own,” he said affably. “You like what you do?”

“Love it,” Colin told him, feeling better. “Love the challenges, the new places, the clients. All of it.”

“Now you’re sounding better,” the cabbie pointed out. “That hangover wearing off?”

Colin smiled tightly. “Seems like it.”

“I hate hangovers,” the cabdriver continued. “Still, every now and then you’ve got to indulge, you know?”

Colin thought about it. Indulgence. That seemed like an inadequate word to cover what had taken place last night. But still, wasn’t that basically how Emily was looking at it?

Ten bucks says she isn’t mooning about you this morning, pal. She’s probably sleeping it off, or getting back to work. The way she’d talked about it, it was the experience she wanted, and the fact that it was with him was incidental. As though he was a stamp in her passport or something.

He didn’t believe it at the time, but now, after seeing her in action—honestly, he wasn’t sure what to believe anymore.

“So your wife and family going with you or what?”

“What’s with the twenty questions?” Colin snapped.

The cabdriver paused. “Sorry, man. Didn’t mean to bug you. Some people like to talk, you know?”

Colin sighed. “I’m sorry, too,” he said. “I guess that hangover’s stronger than I thought. I didn’t mean to bite your head off.” He paused. “And no. No wife, no kids.”

“Huh. Not surprised, actually. You don’t really seem like a family man.”

Colin sat up straighter, as if someone had smacked him on the back of the head. “Why do you say that?”

“Sharp dresser, goin’ off to Paris the day after Christmas, hungover.” The cabdriver barked out a laugh. “But, hey, I’ve seen weirder from married guys, so I wasn’t absolutely sure. I remember driving this guy to two of his mistresses’ apartments on Thanksgiving, if you can believe it….”

Colin settled back against the cold vinyl seat of the taxi, feeling disgruntled. It all circled back to his family’s comments. He wasn’t the small-town type. He knew that, had known it since before high school. He’d be the first to say so in most cases. So why should the observation bother him now? Why was he getting so ticked off every time someone pointed out that he wasn’t small-town and family-oriented?

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