Last Chance Christmas by Joanne Rock Page A

herself steady by gripping his forearm. But when she righted herself, he saw the wicked gleam in her eyes.
    Cupping her face between his palms, he angled her where he wanted her. Then, slanting his mouth over hers, he took the kiss he’d been wanting every second since he’d first seen her again last night.
    *
    One second she’d been teasing him.
    The next, she was melting under his kiss, her fingers holding onto his shirt like her life depended on him not letting go. All night, she’d dreamed about this. With every sleepless minute that ticked past on the clock, she’d been regretting not being bold enough to claim the kiss she wanted every bit as much as he did.
    And consequences be damned, she wanted this. He would go back to Chicago soon and she’d return to New York, and they might never run into each other again. She was going to make peace with her past by carrying forward a red-hot memory of the sexy hockey player who’d always been able to turn her inside out with a look.
    His fingers combed through her hair, sliding the band free that held it in place. He palmed her bare neck, one hand sliding just under the collar of her sweater, making all her skin tingle in response.
    “I don’t want to hurt you.” He spoke the words against her throat as he trailed kisses down the column of her neck and into the hollow at the base of it.
    “This is the opposite of hurting.” She ran her hands all over those big, sculpted shoulders of his, marveling at the gorgeous perfection of every muscle group. “Triggering endorphins reduces pain.”
    She could feel his smile against her skin before he spoke. “I love it when you talk chemistry.”
    Tilting her head back, she gave him full access. He breathed against the shell of her ear, finding a spot behind it that made her squirm.
    She wound her arms around him, needing him closer. Wanting to feel the press of his body against hers.
    “I’m going to pick you up.” He shifted her seat so she was directly in front of him. “If anything hurts, you tell me.”
    Leaning forward, she edged her way onto his lap. Straddling him. With a groan and a soft curse, he hauled her hips to his, pressing the heat of her against the hard length of him. It felt so good she wriggled in her seat, needing more. Wanting all of him.
    “Put your arms down,” he ordered, his voice rough and his breathing uneven. “It will be less pull on your ribs.”
    Sliding her hands down his chest, she felt the gallop of his heartbeat beneath her palms. His soft cotton tee was long sleeved, but so thin she could appreciate every intriguing ridge under the fabric.
    His hands slid under her thighs then, and he lifted her against his chest, her legs wrapping around his narrow hips. He smelled like aftershave and cinnamon, a sexy combination of he-man and the bakery. She wanted to lick every bit of him. She started with his jaw, tasting him there as he strode toward the bedroom.
    This was really happening. Her and J.C. A fantasy come true. She closed her eyes tighter, afraid the moment would get away from her if she thought about it too much. She wanted to feel. To lose herself in this. In him.
    So much of her life had fallen apart recently. She needed something good. Something decadent and delicious and just for her.
    He laid her on the goose down feather topper that covered the mattress. His bed was like lying in a cloud it was so soft and fluffy. But on top of her, where he held himself above her to keep from hurting her, there was rock hard strength. Immovable male muscle. His hips pinned her thigh on the leg that wasn’t injured. His chest brushed her breasts lightly, making her back arch for a firmer touch.
    “I’m going to take this off you.” He skimmed a touch under her sweater along her abdomen, just above the line of sweats. “Is that okay?”
    “If I had my way we’d both already be naked.” She wanted to help him with the undressing, but she had the feeling she was trembling and she