Baby, It's Cold Outside Read online

  She had no time to process the words or their meaning. He withdrew all the way, then slammed himself fully back, sheathing his throbbing dick to the hilt. Again. Again. Again.

  The ride was wild, long, choppy, thrilling. The second climax shimmered just out of reach, the feeling of him taking over her body, his hips working in a primitive dance, sweat drenching their skin, over and over until—

  Riley broke apart, dimly noting him following her over the edge. She gripped his hands as her only anchor, his weight pressing her against the table, until they collapsed.

  She closed her eyes.

  Her mind was completely and blissfully empty.

  chapter 6

  Had he died? Nope, his body ached a bit. He was getting older and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had sex on a table. Of course, he’d never be able to eat here again without thinking of her.

  Her voice drifted to his ears. “That may have been worth the ten-year wait.”

  Dylan chuckled and nibbled on her neck. So sweet. She was still shaking slightly from the string of orgasms, making him want to do the whole thing over again. And again. “Brat. Is sex back in the box?” He eased off of her and disposed of the condom.

  “No. I told you it can’t be.”

  “Foreplay? Oral?”

  She gave him that adorable glare that always turned him on. “That’s included with sex.”

  He turned to go stoke the fire. Curious, he wondered what else she thought she had to have in a husband. So far, her list was way off. She’d destroy a mild-mannered accountant who did anything she said. Dylan shuddered just at the thought. She bored without a challenge, and to him, love and marriage and kids was the ultimate goal to conquer.

  “Tell me what else you see happening in this fictitious perfect future of yours?” he asked.

  She eased to a sitting position, her naked body a gorgeous silhouette. “So you can make fun of me? Hell no.”

  He threw up a hand in a Boy Scout gesture. “Promise not to make fun.”

  Her lower lip jutted out in a hint of a sulk. He walked back over and kissed it off her, until her hands gripped his shoulders and her nails dug in hard. Damned if she wasn’t making him hard again.

  “Fine. I’m going to sew all my children’s clothes. And knit. I’ll make the afghans and do little booties for the boy and two girls I’ll have.”

  He stared at her and waited for the punch line. Never got one. A wild laugh scratched at his chest, dying to escape, but he battled it back. Barely. “You told me you flunked home economics in high school. You hated it, Riley. You’d go apeshit if you tried to sew.”

  She gasped and pointed her finger at him. “See! I told you! I’m going to like it this time. Crochet is in my box. And my husband is going to do all the maintenance around the house. Mow the lawn, fix the plumbing, maybe help build an addition.”

  He pressed his lips together. His eyes began to tear. “Don’t you make a crap load of money?”

  Her brows knitted in a frown. “So?”

  “Why the hell does he have to do that shit if you can hire out? Aren’t you going to be running Chic Publishing? You gonna take up yoga next?”

  Her stony silence was answer enough.

  No. Fucking. Way. With her temper? She used to tell him that sitting still with her own thoughts for too long made her want to jump off a cliff. Riley had boundless energy, was a classic multitasker, and craved multiple goals and projects going on simultaneously. This time he couldn’t help it. He burst into laughter. “You’re nuts. I’ll pay to see you try and sit cross-legged and be quiet for five minutes. Hell, one minute and you’ll be opening your mouth to speak.”

  She jumped off the table and pushed him. “Yoga is in my box! I want to bring a measured, balanced energy into my life, and yoga is the key.”

  Dylan wiped at his eyes. “Sure, darlin’. I just think it would be easier if you recognize your true personality and find someone who will fit, rather than try to change. Like me. I bet I’d fit in your box. That’s the reason Kinnections matched us.”

  She sucked in her breath. “Not possible. Especially if you’re not on board with knitting, yoga, and friendship before sex.”

  He couldn’t help it. She was so damn cute when she got riled up. He grabbed her hair and kissed her hard and deep and long, until she grew quiet and malleable. His blood sung and roared in victory. He was the only one able to tame Riley Fox. Now he had to prove it to her before the morning came.

  “I’m going to turn on the generator so we can get the lights back on. Stay here. And don’t put on clothes.”

  With one last kiss, he grabbed a candle and went out to the hallway. He took the staircase down to the control room, then after a few minutes got the generator running. The lights flicked on and he came back upstairs, ready to go for round two and three with the woman who had exploded back into his life.

  She was wrapped in the dining room runner.

  The gold and silver covering made her look like a yummy Christmas gift ready to open. Seeing her in full light—the rich texture of her hair spilling over her shoulders, the soft, flawless skin, the plump, swollen lips—took his breath away.

  “God, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured. A slight flush traveled over her cheeks and upper chest. “Why are you wearing a tablecloth?”

  Those extraordinary eyes narrowed and sparked. She spoke with pure haughtiness. “Because I don’t do naked.”

  He gave a wolfish grin. “Covering you up should be a crime. I’ll have to convince you.”

  He came forward but she jumped back, her hands clasping the edge of the runner. “No! I mean it, Dylan, I refuse to be so uncivilized.”

  Amusement cut through him. She was so much fun. “Is this also in the box? Civilization and covering up what I just touched and tasted?”

  Her composure never faltered. “Correct. I should’ve never told you about my box.”

  “Suit yourself, darlin’. Come on, I want to show you something.” He stalked over to French doors and pulled back the heavy curtain. He felt her glare at his bare back, but also knew she was staring at his ass and enjoying the view.

  “What about you?” she practically squealed. “You need clothes.”

  He arched a brow. “I’m comfortable being naked. Do you have a problem with that?”

  He noted the high flush of her cheeks and the hungry stare. Oh yeah, he had her good. “Yes, I do,” she said primly. “I can’t concentrate.”

  Dylan winked. “I don’t want you to concentrate. Now get your gorgeous behind over here.”

  “Fine.” She huffed out an annoyed breath and stomped over in her bare feet. The elegant cloth trailed behind her like a queen’s robe. Dylan unlocked and pulled open the French doors. He tucked her into his chest, then she leaned forward and peered out over the balcony.

  Then gasped.

  It was sheer magic. A winter wonderland children dreamed of. His home sat on top of the mountain with the perfect view overlooking Rinker’s Park. Pine and evergreen trees flanked the entire skating rink and edged the park, encrusted with thick layers of ice. Fat flakes fell down slow upon the scene. The skating rink could be seen in the distance, safely covered by the roof, and the painted horses in the elaborate carousel looked frozen in time. White icicle lights wrapped around the park and twisted through the trees.

  This was the reason he’d bought the park. Besides the privacy he desperately needed, and his love for living in a natural isolation, there was something about the place that brought back an elemental piece of innocence left behind. It made Dylan remember what was important, what he wanted from life, and the constant struggle for balance. For a little while, overlooking the scene with the snow and fire behind him, with Riley held in his arms, he reached perfection.

  “It’s so beautiful,” she whispered, as if not wanting to break the spell. “And this is all yours?”

  “Yes.” Pride rang through his voice. “It’s mine.”

  She shivered in the wind,
but he felt nothing but the burning heat of her skin against his. The surge of possession rose through him like a tsunami and crashed. He practically shook with need for her again. To claim, push, torment, pleasure. Half dazed with want, he turned toward her and lowered his mouth to hers.

  Damn the man.

  How could she enjoy the view or think about anything except how good he looked naked? His body was spectacular, from the dusting of golden hair, toasty skin, lithe muscles, and the hard, taut muscles of his ass flexing as he walked. He wore his nakedness like his clothes, confident, comfortable, and a screw-you attitude if you didn’t like it.

  There wasn’t a woman in the world who wouldn’t like it.

  Need overcame her. She shuddered with raw emotion, feeling as if she wanted to climb inside him and experience everything he had to give. When he kissed her, she surrendered. Sliding her arms up around his shoulders, he pulled her in for more, gently sipping from her lips and then pushing his tongue inside to deepen the kiss. Riley floated, anchored to Earth by only him, and wondered if this night would ruin her forever.

  He broke away, breathing hard. His eyes flashed with hunger. “I need you again.”

  Riley didn’t answer. Just held on tight when he scooped her up and strode up the stairs and into his bedroom. She caught the barest glimpse of a huge sleigh bed, dark wood, thick carpet, and another fireplace before he stripped the tablecloth off her and pulled her in tight. They were gloriously naked, breast to chest, hip to thigh, mouth to mouth.

  They feasted on each other, hands exploring, tongues tangling, until his very breath and taste and scent was imprinted not only on her body but on her soul. When she sank to her knees in front of him, taking him fully in her mouth, he groaned with an animal wildness that spoke to that hidden place in her. Crazed with the need to make him lose all control, she cupped him, stroking his steely length, running her teeth gently down the front of his cock. Dylan chanted her name, hands fisted in her hair, and when he finally released, she took all of him, milking out his orgasm until he shuddered under her, completely surrendering.

  Riley waited for a normal recovery time, but he pushed her to all fours on the bed, fit himself with a condom, and began gently rocking his partial erection against her wet core. Riley groaned, pushing back, but he was back under control. Teasing her with his cock, he played with her breasts, pinching her nipples until they were hard and swollen. Sinking in a few inches deeper, he moved his hands lower, stroking her belly, clit, labia, giving her a little bit more of him at a slow, steady pace.

  The relentless pressure of her oncoming orgasm made her his slave. She begged, rocked her hips, desperate for him to claim her completely, and as if he realized what she needed, he grasped her hips hard and slammed into her.

  Riley cried out at the exquisite fullness. Keeping a brutal, fast pace, he took her with a savagery that engulfed her, as if desperate to mark her again as his, and she reveled in the knowledge that their lovemaking wasn’t close to being pretty, or elegant, or surface, but a give and take of basic, primal needs and wants that ripped away all civility.

  Her skin bruised under his grip; her fingers ached as they twisted into the mattress; her muscles screamed with use. None of it mattered in the drive for release, and when his fingers finally slipped over her clit to pinch hard and release, she went over the edge.

  A sob caught in her throat as everything inside of her emptied out and shattered. He was there to hold her when she collapsed, murmuring tender, nonsensical words in her ear as she came down from the wicked heights of pleasure, and for that one instant she knew she was safe.

  Time had no meaning. Was it seconds? Hours? Finally, he rolled over, kissing her temple, pushing back her hair, and whispered in her ear.

  “Are you ready?”

  She groaned. No way. Riley couldn’t have another orgasm—she’d die. She shook her head. “No.”

  “I’m taking you anyway.”

  “I need a nap. A rest.” She pushed weakly against his chest.

  “Such a dirty mind. I’m taking you somewhere else.”

  “Where?”

  His grin was wolfish and wicked and sexy as hell.

  “Skating.”

  chapter 7

  He loved the way she blinked with a heavy languor and stretched out, her glorious body free from covers and open to his gaze. She practically purred with satisfaction, and the fact he gave it to her made him feel like Rocky fucking Balboa.

  “I don’t understand.”

  His lips twitched. “I’m taking you ice-skating. Come on, I have another set of snow pants and ski jacket.”

  Those swollen lips pursed in a pout. “Outside? There’s a blizzard in case you’ve forgotten.” The ping of ice pellets against the windows tinkled in the air. Dylan pressed a kiss to her forehead and got up.

  “Good, that’s the best time to see it.”

  She shook her head, all that dark messy hair swinging over her bare shoulders. “I don’t know. Doesn’t seem very reasonable.” She tried to crawl back under the blanket. “I already saw the rink from the balcony.”

  He laughed and reached over her, sliding out the bureau drawer. “I think you need a bit of motivation.”

  “That type of motivation will keep me from walking normal tomorrow.”

  “Hmm, you really do have a filthy mind. As much as I’d love to take up the challenge, I was thinking more of sugar.”

  Riley peeked from under the sheets. “Sugar?”

  He slid out a king-size, bittersweet dark chocolate bar and peeled back the foil. Then broke off a square. “Open up.” A shudder wracked her body. Her lips parted and he placed the chocolate on her tongue. He watched as she moaned and half closed her eyes in pleasure. Damn, the woman was so sensual. “Good?”

  “Heaven. I shouldn’t be surprised you keep chocolate in the bureau. You used to hoard those snack-size Hershey’s bars. I still remember cleaning up endless wrappers in the dorm.”

  He shrugged and popped a square into his mouth. “Never know when you’ll need a lift. Worked for us. Do you still eat buckets of Lucky Charms when you’re stressed?”

  She stared at him with surprise. “You remember that?”

  “Of course. I’d find those little bags filled with cereal around finals. You always ate the marshmallows first.”

  “They’re the best part.”

  They finished eating in satisfying silence. When she was done, he carefully rewrapped the bar and stuck it back in the drawer. A tiny smear of melted chocolate stuck to her lip. Dylan leaned over and kissed her, swiping the last of the sweetness on his tongue. She felt so soft and warm and willing in his arms, as if she’d always belonged there. He pulled away with regret. “Now we’re ready.” He ignored her groan, walked to the closet, and began pulling out items. “I promise it will be worth it.”

  She grumbled under her breath, but he caught her half smile.

  He threw a few items onto the bed and donned a pair of snow pants and a thermal shirt. “Make sure you put on the socks to keep your feet warm. Be right back.”

  Feeling like a kid on Christmas, he went downstairs to the basement and took the tunnel to the mechanics room. He spent a few minutes turning on the switches and setting things up. After carefully checking all circuits, he headed back to the main house and his bedroom.

  She was dressed and ready to go. Those violet eyes brimmed with curiosity, but she crossed her arms in front of the overly large jacket. “I feel like a stuffed sausage. Have I told you I’m not crazy about surprises or impulsive decisions?”

  “Another item that should be in the box. You need a man to challenge you. Push boundaries. Urge you to try new things.”

  “I don’t think I like skating,” she grumbled.

  Damn, she looked cute. His clothes swallowed her up, but she’d be warm and dry, which was the goal. “You will. Let’s go.”

  She clomped behind him in too-heavy boots, and he led her downstairs, through the darkened hallways in the secret
tunnel, his gloved hand firmly enclosing hers. “Dude, if I didn’t trust you this whole thing would reek of a B horror movie set.”

  “Nothing to worry about. I already ripped your clothes off and ravished you.”

  “Oh yeah, cool.”

  The door opened. Massive machinery hummed and buzzed, but Dylan didn’t pause. Finally, they stepped outside onto a large open terrace that was barely lit.

  The whip of the wind scratched like icy fingernails against his cheeks. They ducked their heads and he increased the pace. “Just a little more.”

  “It’s cold! There must be a foot already out here and it’s still not stopping. Dylan, maybe we could dump this plan and drink some hot cocoa without our clothes again because this is a bit— Oh my God.”

  She stopped short. He took in the scene before him with full satisfaction. Yes. This was the reason he’d bought the park. This was what he needed to show her.

  The bare trees lined the view of the hills and set off the large circular skating rink as if cradled between mother nature’s hands. Endless white lights twinkled in a vision of blinding light, twisted in the branches. A large Christmas tree gaily decorated stood in the center, a miniature version of Rockefeller Center. Christmas carols streamed from the speakers. Soft, pure white blanketed every spare inch of ground, and crusted ice threw out a thousand rays of light, like a diamond showing off in all its glory. An elaborate roof covered the main rink and gates around it, protecting the precious ice from any type of weather conditions and allowing patrons to use it during inclement weather. Sure, it cost a bundle, but Dylan believed it was worth it. He saved so much on maintenance by not needing twenty-four-hour crews keeping the rink cleaned during storms or regular snowfall.

  She squeezed his fingers and her voice came out in a husky whisper. “I feel like I’m in Frozen.”

  “Hmm. Not that you watch children’s movies.”

  “It also won an Academy Award. Now be quiet or I’ll punish you by singing Let It Go.”

  “Let’s not be hasty.” He smiled. “This is why I bought Rinker’s Park. When you visit, you believe in something bigger, something beautiful. Don’t we all need that?”