The Christmas He Loved Her (Bad Boys of Crystal Lake 2)

“Uh-huh,” he said and then opened wide, his hot, wet mouth sucking, tugging, and licking her breast, each movement—each tug and pull—hitting her low, between her legs, where she ached.

“Oh God,” she breathed, head thrown back as he moved from one breast to the other. She let him love her, let him play with her, and when she was nearly to the edge again, he paused.

“You were saying?” His dark eyes were hooded as he gazed down at her.

Raine nipped his chin. “I want you inside me.”

She wriggled out of his grasp and pulled him along behind her until they stood in the middle of the pink blanket. His erection jutted out bold and ready, and Raine didn’t hesitate. She pushed him, had him on his back within seconds, and then stood over him, her legs spread, her skin glowing from the heat of the fire.

“Oh damn, but you’re killing me,” Jake growled, his eyes set on the apex of her legs.

“That’s not very nice of me, now, is it?”

Raine tweaked her nipples and her hands drifted over her belly, lingering near her belly button.

“I love how you watch me,” she said softly.

“Babe, what else would I be doing right now?” Sweat beaded his forehead while pieces of hair clung to his neck.

Her fingers slid inside her body and she opened her lips so that he could see what she was doing.

He groaned.

She smiled seductively.

Never had Raine felt this powerful. In control.

“I could think of a lot of things,” she murmured, placing her heel on his chest when he would have grabbed her.

“I can’t hold back much longer,” he managed to say. Veins on the side of his neck stood out, and she knew how hard it was for him to just lie there beneath her, unable to take what he wanted.

Carefully she lowered herself, positioning her body just so, and she kept her eyes on him as she sank onto his cock.

His hands were on her hips and he held her still, which was good—she needed a moment to adjust to his size.

“Jesus Christ, Raine.”

She began to move, her breasts swaying above him, her body controlling their rhythm. She’d never felt this complete and was well on her way to being utterly sated. She bent over and kissed him. Then, as she increased the rhythm, as the orgasm built inside of her, she leaned closer and whispered, “Jesus has nothing to do with it, my friend.”

Chapter 22

Raine woke up with a start. One minute she was snuggled, warm in Jake’s emb

race, and the next she’d rolled out of the blanket and was on her knees, shivering in the cold. The fire was low and the heat it threw weak.

She took a moment to stretch, her limbs heavy—but it was a good kind of heavy, a satisfied kind of heavy—and glanced back at Jake, who was just beginning to stir, his long frame barely covered by the shocking-pink blanket. For a few seconds, she let her eyes rest on him and just enjoyed the moment. And why not? The man was beautiful. Her gaze lowered to where the blanket nudged his “cut,” that indent low on the hips that made her mouth water, and she was just about to taste him there when she stilled.

Something wasn’t right.

Gibson barked. He growled a bit and then barked again. Rubbing her eyes, she shot to her feet, realizing the reason she’d woken in the first place.

There was someone at the door. Knocking. Softly at first, and now banging much louder.

Balls! Who the hell would be poking around Wyndham? Or rather, who in hell would be poking around the stone cottage at Wyndham? It’s not as if anyone knew she was here.

Gloria!

Raine swore softly and grabbed her yoga pants and T-shirt off the floor, and after nearly falling on her ass while trying to wiggle into them, she crept across the floor, feeling slightly foolish and more than a little irritated.