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

“Oh my God, Jake. Could you be any more of a loser?”

Raine reached over and grabbed the belt off him, her fingers nimbly shoving it into the buckle. She waited for the click and then slowly glanced up at him, a scowl in place, but one that melted away like sand through an hourglass.

Snowflakes glistened in his hair like diamonds, reflecting from the security light just to the right of the car. One perfect flake nestled on the edge of his eyelash and she held her breath, afraid to breathe.

Afraid to move.

How long did they stare at each other with nothing but the wind in their ears?

No clue.

But it was long enough that the snowflake began to melt, and for no reason—other than insanity—Raine’s hand crept upward to carefully brush it from his face. Her eyes followed her fingers, and for the longest time she just stared at him. At her paleness against his tanned and masculine cheek, and then his jaw.

She felt the rough stubble from his beard, the heat from his body, and she smelled the musky spice that was all Jake.

His eyes were hooded, his long lashes downcast, but she heard the catch in his throat and something inside her woke up. Something hot and heavy and so exquisite, it was painful.

Christ, but the Edwards brothers were attractive. Even though Jesse had been the serious twin, he’d been lighter in coloring, more like pretty boy Mackenzie Draper. But Jake…God, there was nothing gentle, or soft, or pretty about him.

And as she watched him in silence….as his hooded gaze widened and stared back at her from beneath lowered lids…she found herself feeling something she hadn’t felt in a very long time. Want. Need.

Desire.

God, it was so hot.

Which was insane, because it was still frosty inside her car, and their hot breath made small puffs that evaporated into nothing as they stared at each other through the heavy silence.

He moved slightly and she noticed for the first time how glassy his eyes were. Whether from fatigue or… The smell of whiskey hit her.

“You’re drunk,” she whispered.

His generous mouth curved into a frown. “I’m not drunk enough,” he answered roughly. “Because if I was as drunk as I should be, I’d be passed out cold. I’d be sitting here like a zombie, and we’d be on our way home, where you would dump my ass at my parents’ place, and hopefully I’d stay drunk until tomorrow morning, maybe even sleep.” A heartbeat passed; his voice was husky. “Instead…”

She leaned forward a bit more, barely able to hear him.

“Instead,” she repeated softly.

Jake exhaled and grabbed her hand, rolling it along his skin until it rested near his mouth. The air between them was charged with something tangible. Something fierce and hard.

Something scary.

“Instead, I’m thinking about things I shouldn’t be thinking about.” His hand crept to her chin, his touch gentle, though his fingertips were rough. Maybe his fingers trembled—she couldn’t tell, because all of a sudden things seemed wonky, as if reality were out of sync.

No longer hot, she was cold as hell and shivered violently, her mind crying out, though the scream was buried inside her head, where no one could hear.

Such longing rushed through her, such an intense need to be touched—to matter to someone—that she whimpered and closed her eyes. She moved her head slightly, her mouth parted, and she was afraid that her heart would beat out of her chest. Blood rushed through her veins, senses long dead erupted, leaving her breathless. Aching.

Her breasts swelled. His fingers splayed across her jaw now, not as gentle as before, and yet she wanted more. She wanted…

“Jake,” she whispered, her body warring with her mind. On what planet was this okay? To be here like this with her husband’s brother?

Yet she leaned into him instead of pulling away. She didn’t want his warmth to leave her, because she was afraid that she would never get warm again.

“Please,” she whispered.

And then his mouth was on her hers, his lips hot and hungry. She opened for him and it was neither a gentle nor a coaxing kiss, but rather a clashing of emotion. It was want and need and anger and guilt.

But that didn’t stop the surge of desire that rolled through Raine, and she whimpered as she moved and tried to get closer to him.