Unwrapping Holly

And when he settled the pulsing thickness of his arousal between her legs, she held her breath as she waited to finally feel him inside her. He teased her, gliding his thick, hard length back and forth along the slick wet heat of the V of her body, stroking her with sensation but denying her the reward of release.

With a nip of his teeth on her lips, he pulled back to capture her in a fiery stare that implored her to look at him as he entered her. Only when he seemed confident he had her attention, did he slide that sinfully hard cock past her sensitive flesh. He hesitated a moment, taunting them both with what was to come, and then thrust hard. Holly gasped as he sunk deep, a kaleidoscope of sensations exploding in her body, followed by a sigh of satisfaction. A sigh he swallowed with a kiss, his lips slanting over hers with tenderness that turned to wild need. Soon they were in a frenzied rush of lovemaking—primal, red-hot. They moved together, faster, rougher, ravenous.

Cole grabbed one of her legs and pulled it over his shoulder. Holly quickly aided him, sliding the other one over his shoulder as well. He leaned forward and pinched her nipples; her womb spasmed around his cock. Passion ripped across his features as he grabbed her legs for leverage and, raising up on his knees, thrust into her with newfound force. Each thrust shot pleasure through her body, and the sight of his sweat-glistened body straining as he thrust that thick, hard cock inside her was complete bliss.

“Yes,” she murmured as the build of pressure began; she gave in to the need to shut her eyes as she arched into him. She wanted more of that spot, to tell him so. More. More. Did she dare say it? It was something she’d never done before, but she needed this so damned bad. She needed . . . “Yes. Yes. Harder. Harder, Cole.”

He groaned and pushed her legs to her chest, curling her inward and thrusting fast and hard. The explosion of pleasure came fast, without warning, and a cry lodged in Holly’s throat. Cole pumped again and again, and then grunted with a hard lunge, sinking deep, and spilling his pleasure inside her. They clung to each other, riding out the last waves of release until slowly he eased her legs down and slid between them. They lay like that for long moments, his head buried in her neck, bodies melded together.

Minutes later, Cole rolled over and settled her under his arm, her head nestled on his chest. She felt remarkably content in a way she’d never felt with a man. A wonderful lover, a fire, a Christmas tree. What more could a girl desire?

Thinking of the tree reminded her of the tree topper. She’d fallen asleep without seeing it. She rolled onto her stomach to stare up at the tree. Cole immediately rolled to his side, wrapping his arm around her and nuzzling her neck and distracting her from the tree.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he murmured.

The endearment, though easily spoken by a man to a woman, felt intimate and special. “I wanted to see . . .” She blinked up at the tree topper. “It’s a ruby angel,” she whispered. What were the odds of a ruby wish and a ruby angel? How odd. She almost laughed, wondering if Grandma Redding was up to mischief from above.

Cole rolled to his stomach and lifted onto his elbows to study the tree. “My parents bought that angel their first Christmas together, forty years ago.” His voice took on a distant, thoughtful tone—a mixture of happy and sad faded in and out of the words. “My mother was very romantic about it. She had to have that angel on the tree for luck. One year when I was a teen, I remember finding her crying in the attic. She thought it was lost. We tore the house apart.”

“Where was it?”

He chuckled and cut her a sideways look. “A hatbox in the closet where she’d put it so it would be safe.”

Holly smiled and stared up at the angel, thinking of the ruby Grandpa had given Grandma. Of the love both rubies represented. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

Cole pulled her close, so they lay facing each other, heads on the pillows he’d brought for them. “You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she said, and she might have blushed, if not for the solemn quality she sensed in him.

She could see he was the pillar in his family. But even pillars had weak spots. She sensed that in his effort to appear strong for his brothers, he’d never properly faced his loss and dealt with his own sorrow. He was hurting.

She thought about her grandmother, but decided not to share her loss. Or even how her father had coped with losing his parents. She didn’t want to diminish the importance of Cole and his family.