The Christmas Blanket

“But you should have,” I argued. “I… I could have stayed. I would have stayed.”

“And that’s exactly the problem!” River held his hands out toward me before letting them fall. “Don’t you see? My dad was already dying. And if you would have stayed, you would have died, too. This town was killing you. I was killing you — your spirit, your dreams, your love and vivaciousness for life. I was holding you back from where you wanted to be… from who you wanted to be.”

I shook my head, over and over, the tears falling harder now. “You should have told me. You should have given me a choice. You… you didn’t fight for me,” I said through my tears. “You just let me go.”

“And I regret that mistake,” he said firmly, his feet carrying him toward me. I wanted to move. God, how I wanted to back away, but I was rooted in place. “I have every minute since the one where I lost you. But I loved you, Eliza,” River croaked when he was just inches from me. “I loved you. So I let you go.” His hands reached out, framing my face, his eyes searching mine as he shook his head like every word was the most horrible truth. “And damn it if I don’t love you still.”

The next sob that broke through my chest was cut off when his mouth met mine again, this time warm and comforting and gentle, yet sure. His hands held my face, fingers curling in my hair, thumbs brushing my temples. I leaned into that touch, into that kiss, into that man with everything that I was, with everything I ever had be.

And in that moment, I was home.

It was a dizzy blur, the steps we took through the cabin to where the bed lay hidden in the shadows in the corner. The candlelight was dimmer here, the whole world seeming to turn its lights down to hum a distant shhh, giving us privacy and peace.

River only broke our kiss long enough to strip my sweater overhead, my hair tumbling out of the neck hole in a waterfall down my back. Chills raced from the cool air, from the feel of his hands on me, wrapping around my rib cage in a gentle squeeze before he moved for my sports bra next. He pulled it up and over my head, too, letting it fall to the floor.

His shirt came next, and then his briefs, his sweatpants, until he was fully naked and trembling in my grasp as he backed me up to the bed.

My back hit the quilt, the fabric cold against my hot skin, but that sensation was dull compared to the way my heart raced at the sight of River standing over me. He towered like a god, peeling my sweatpants off my hips, off one leg and then the other. His eyes didn’t leave mine as he did the same with my thong, and only when I was nude did he let his gaze rake over me.

I felt those eyes like big, calloused hands, working their way over my breasts, my navel, my thighs, and the little gap between them where I was already wet and throbbing for him. River’s throat was so tight I heard his next swallow, and a gentle shake of his head was all I got before he was climbing on top of me, maneuvering me up until my head was on the pillow and he was between my legs.

We both shuddered at the rush of heat from our bodies being together again, and River swept my hair from my face, kissing my jaw, my neck, my collarbone and back up until his mouth claimed mine.

There was no time to think, no time to second guess or let logic sneak its way in before River was balancing all his weight on one elbow, his other hand reaching down to hook my leg up his thigh. He pressed more weight into his knees, the tip of him sliding against my wet, warm entrance in a skating glide that had us both hissing with need.

I knew the feel of him, even after all these years. I knew the shape of his crown, the lean of his shaft, the exact lining of the vein that rippled up from his base. I knew how he would fill me even before he did, but when the flex of his hips brought us together, when he slipped inside me for the first time in four trips around the sun, I gasped, holding onto that breath like it was my last.

It was a searing fire, the way he stretched me, and yet it filled me with a current of pleasure all the same. I whimpered into his mouth and he caught that cry with a growl, with a demanding kiss, with a slight withdrawal before he rocked into me again, deeper.