The Virgin's Guardian

“Because for some stupid reason, the first thing that popped into my head when your Santa-boyfriend asked me what I wanted for Christmas was Jacob.”

“Jacob Marley?” she gasped.

“What other Jacob would it be?” I grumbled.

“But you haven’t mentioned him in, what? Three years?”

“Three years, three months and two days.”

“Holy crap,” she breathed.

Yeah, it was kind of shocking to realize I’d mentally kept track of the days all this time. Harley had been the one I’d spilled my heart out to when Jacob’s family had moved all the way across the country to Oregon at the end of my freshman, and his junior, year. We’d only been dating for a few months, but my young heart had been sure he was the one for me.

Like most high school sweethearts who were separated, it didn’t withstand the distance and we lost touch. Young love was real, but it still didn’t bind the way a mature heart would. I’d never gotten over him, though. Never dated another boy. Never so much as kissed anyone else in all the years since. With my mom so far away, it seemed like all I had was time lately. Lots and lots of free time on my hands. And apparently that extra time had led to thoughts

about Jacob Marley. The one who’d gotten away. And the one I wanted for Christmas… if only holiday wishes really did come true.

But they didn’t. If they did, I wouldn’t be headed home to an empty house on Christmas Eve. My mom would be there, Jacob would never have moved and we’d have been together the last three holidays.

“It doesn’t feel right, dropping you off like this,” Harley grumbled as she pulled into my driveway. “My mom and dad have asked me a million times why you aren’t spending the night with us tonight.”

I looked up at the house I’d spent my entire childhood in. There were so many happy memories we’d made in it. My mom was disappointed when I didn’t move with her, she and Lucian were worried about leaving me on my own. Lucian surprised us both by paying off my childhood home and giving it to me as a gift. He made sure I could live in it for however long I’d like because it was mine, free and clear. It was the one place in the world where I felt like I belonged. Where the sadness of missing my mom didn’t seem quite so bad since I was surrounded by her and such wonderful memories there. “Tell them thank you, but I feel like I need to be here tonight. I’m going to read a steamy holiday romance and maybe get a little tipsy on some eggnog. Well, maybe not tipsy since my mom isn’t here to add the liquor.”

“Okay.” Her lips twitched but she heaved a huge sigh, making it clear she wished my answer was different. “But if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

“You’re going to call and check up on me as soon as you get home, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am!”

“Just remember,” I warned as I stepped out of her car and leaned inside to wag a finger at her. “The more often you call, the more chances I’ll get to ask you about Santa.”

“Shit.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “There isn’t much to tell.”

I tilted my head and raised my eyebrows at her. “Uh-huh. And Peter Pan was one of Santa’s elves.”

“Fine. Every time you ask me about him, I’ll just have to ask you about Jacob. And harass you about why you’re such a chicken and haven’t tried to look him up,” she said, and one-upped me on the threats.

“You’re impossible,” I grumbled. Mostly irritated because she was right. I was a chicken. I’d thought of looking him up since I graduated, but the thought of finding out that he wasn’t single kept me from going through with it.

Chapter 2

Holly

Setting a plate of cookies on the little table by the fireplace, a wave of loneliness swept over me. It was a Christmas Eve tradition I’d shared with my mom from before I could even remember. With her gone, it was a little bittersweet. In one of the many photo albums she’d made of my childhood, there was a picture of me as a soon-to-be one year old reaching out in an attempt to grab one of the frosted, cut-out cookies. Then when I was almost two, she’d snapped a shot of me sprinkling colored sugar onto a cookie that was almost as big as my head and shaped like the man I was decorating it for. Santa deserved the best of the best, after all. Or at least that’s what I’d thought all those years we’d put cookies out for him.

“Not so much this year, though, after putting Jacob on my mind,” I grumbled to myself as I yanked one of the cookies off the plate and shoved it in my mouth. The big guy in the red suit messed with my head, so it only seemed fair to steal one of his cookies.

And a little bit of his milk, too. I gulped it down and smiled to myself, thinking about how I’d caught my mom doing the same thing when I was nine—only she’d grimaced because she hated milk. But she drank it anyway. When I’d asked her about it a few years later, she’d explained that someone had to drink it. I’d suggested that pouring it down the sink would have worked just as well, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She’d insisted I would have been able to tell by the lack of lip marks on the cup that nobody had drunk from it. Looking down at the rim of the cup in my hands, I saw a half-moon of milk left behind by my lips and laughed to myself. “She was right. I probably would have noticed if she had just poured it down the sink.”

Then again, she usually was… even when it came to Jacob and me. She’d warned me that young love was fragile and as much as it seemed we were meant to be together at the time, our futures were far from certain. Especially with our age difference. I was older for my grade, about to turn sixteen, but Jacob would be a senior, and then while I still had two years of high school, he would be going off to college. Life happened, and I thought I had found a way to move on.

Only, my Christmas Eve was filled with thoughts of Jacob, making me realize I wasn’t as over him as I believed. I guessed it wasn’t any surprise that when I finally went to bed, I was bombarded by dreams of him all night long. When he’d first left, I’d dreamed of him each and every night, reliving all the moments we’d shared together when I slept. Eventually, the dreams came further and further apart until I barely had them at all. But I made up for it on Christmas Eve, as they came fast and furious.

The first one was more a memory than a dream. It was well worth remembering—the first time Jacob hit “second base” with me.

We were sitting on the couch in my living room, watching a movie while my mom had run out to the grocery store. A scary one. I hated them, but Jacob loved ‘em. Or at least, he loved how I reacted when I was startled. I literally crawled onto his lap, freaked out, even though I knew it was all pretend.

“I can’t believe I agreed to watch this!”

“My evil plan worked,” he rasped in my ear. “I’ve got you right where I want you, Holly Berry.”

I giggled at the nickname. “Oh you do—“

He took advantage of my mouth being open and sealed his lips over mine, shutting me up with a deep kiss. His tongue licked into my mouth, slowly tangling with mine. My hands went to his hair and slid through it, tugging when he wrapped his arms around me and moved me until he had me on my back on the couch. His mouth swallowed my surprised gasp as his hand slid under my shirt, all the way up until he was cupping my breast over my lace bra.

I moaned, “Jacob—”

“You feel even better than I imagined. Soft here.” He kneaded it with gentle squeezes. “But not here.” His fingers slipped under the lace and went straight for my pebbled nipple, rolling and tugging it.

I lay there, squirming beneath him as he lifted my shirt higher and then lowered his head down to my chest, his heated blue eyes scanning my face to make sure I was okay with what he was doing.

“Please,” I whispered, not even sure what I was asking for, but somehow knowing he needed the reassurance that I was right there with him the whole way.

His mouth surrounded my nipple, making my back arch upwards when I felt the wet heat against my skin.

“Oh, no,” I moaned, my gaze darting frantically to the door at the sound of my mom’s car in the driveway. In a flash, Jacob had my bra back in place, my shirt shoved down and me cuddled up next to him like nothing earth-shattering had just happened. Only it had… and I’d never forgotten.

As the night progressed, so did my dreams. Each one racier than the last. More memories, intermingled with fantasies. Some parts so familiar because of how many times I’d pictured them in my mind over the years. But they felt new. Exciting. And oh so real.

“Let me make you come, Holly. I’ve been thinking about it for days. Weeks. Months, even.”

When his hand pushed between my legs, they fell open and made room for him. My body was so aroused, I didn’t have it in me to feel an ounce of shame or self-consciousness.

“You’re so wet for me.” His gaze slid down my body to where his fingers drifted against me. “Soft,” he groaned. “And pink.”

It was strangely arousing, knowing he was looking at me down there while I was watching his every reaction. Then he slid one finger carefully into me, and my eyes fluttered shut.

“So damn tight.” He pulled his finger out and thrust it gently back into me as far as it would go. My back arched as I clenched around him. “Because you’ve ne

ver let anyone else slide their finger into you like this, have you?”

I shook my head, swallowing hard.

“That’s right, Holly. This pussy is mine, just like every inch of you is all mine. Nobody else gets to touch you. Only me.”

He pulled out and pushed back into me with two fingers this time, making me moan in need.

“Nobody else gets to see you like this. To hear the sounds you make when you come. Only me.”

“Only you,” I breathed out, my hips circling shamelessly onto his thrusting fingers. I’d never felt like this before in my life. Having him touch me was infinitely better than what I’d done on my own while thinking about him in bed late at night.

“Damn straight,” he growled.

He twisted his wrist, changing the thrust of his fingers, and my eyes popped open. I found him staring down at me, his face flushed with lust. For me. I’d done that to him, just by responding to his touch.

“Please, Jacob. I need…” I didn’t really know what I needed. I felt like I was hanging over a ledge, my body drawn tight and my walls rippling around his stroking fingers.

“What do you need, baby? Whatever it is, I’ll give it to you.”

“More,” I panted.

“Then more is what you’ll get.” The pad of his thumb rubbed my clitoris in gentle circles. Everything tightened in my core, the tension building as he massaged my clit and pushed his fingers in and out in a steady, unhurried rhythm.

“So close,” I whimpered.

“Give it to me, Holly. Let me see you fly apart for me.”

My climax hit me as my hips pumped onto his hand. Any hint of shyness had long since flown out the window. My gaze was locked on his blue eyes, fascinated by the masculine triumph that flared in them.

Then his gaze switched from my face to the spot between my legs where his fingers still played. I didn’t have enough time to register the wicked gleam in his eyes before his head dropped low and he thrust his tongue inside me as I convulsed against him.