Four For Christmas (9 page)

He dropped his hat. He took a step toward her, hesitating as he looked over his shoulder before closing the door to the bathroom.  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, ma’am. Put your hands on the counter and spread your legs. Slowly now. Don’t make any sudden moves.”

Her arousal was already dampening her thighs. Just hearing him speaking in that tone. Knowing she had to submit to him. That she wanted to. Loving that, just like Chris had his secret fantasies about playing Doctor, Jimmy had the same desire to play Sexy Cop. Which was a good thing, because ever since she’d had him in her mouth, she’d been wondering what he would feel like inside her.

She bent over, spreading her legs and placing her hands on the bathroom counter for balance. Then she wiggled her bottom expectantly.

Jimmy groaned. “I could bring you in for being a tease, sweet Georgia. After what we just did in there, I’m wired too tightly for you to play with me.”

“But I want to play, Officer.” She bit her lip. “Aren’t you going to frisk me?”

He came up behind her, ripping his towel off his hips and letting it drop beside hers. That’s when she felt it. Hot and hard and long against her back. He definitely wanted to play.

He cupped her softly hanging breasts. “You are a bad girl, Georgia. You know how I know? Because every time I close my eyes now all I can see is you sucking my cock. How greedy you were. God, it was a beautiful thing to watch. But I still wanted more.”

She watched as one hand left her breast and slid around behind her, caressing the curve of her ass. “I wanted to be in here.” His hand continued to roam until it slipped between her legs, feeling the wet heat there. “I wanted to be in
here
.”

He pressed his lips to her temple. Leaning over her and covering her hands with his. “Even after I’d come, I wanted to get inside you. It doesn’t make any sense.”

She knew the feeling. She pressed her bottom against him, spreading her legs farther apart. “Come inside,” she whispered, watching Jimmy’s big body shudder at her words.

He lifted one hand and reached to open the drawer beside her hip. He rummaged through it, stopping to say, “Thank you” before pulling out a condom.

Georgia bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. Yes. Again. How could she want more already? They’d created a monster. “Please, Jimmy. Hurry.”

He swore, his usual calm command suddenly seeming to desert him. He placed a firm hand on her shoulder and met her gaze in the reflection. “You are hell on my control, Georgia.”

He pulled her back against him with his hand while his hips thrust hard against her. She cried out, then covered her mouth with her hands, her elbows the only things holding her body off the counter.

Jimmy bent over to whisper in her ear as he continued his slow, long, powerful strokes. “That’s right.” His words were short bursts of air, matching his thrusts. “You don’t want them to hear. You want me to fuck you. Just like this. Hard. Deep. Don’t you, bad girl?”

She nodded, loving the way he controlled her body. Loving the roughness.

He smiled. “Jesus, they’re right. You are fucking perfect, aren’t you? You love this.” He slung his hips against her so hard the counter rattled and she saw dark spots in front of her eyes. She did love it. Heaven help her, she seemed to love whatever they did to her.

Her sex clenched around him as she felt the first waves of her climax. Her body was primed now. Ready for pleasure. Jimmy swore. “I wanted this to last longer.”

His hips rocked against her, faster now as she moaned and buried her face in her hands. So good. He felt so good.

“Georgia, fuck Georgia—“ he let out a short shout before burying his face in her hair, trying to muffle his sounds of ecstasy as he came inside her.

When he lifted his head she looked up, both of them seeing similarly stunned expressions in the mirror. Georgia wasn’t sure if she could stand up again. Or how many more orgasms she could have in one night before dying from endorphins.

This much of a good thing didn’t happen to Georgia Bale. Especially not in time for her birthday. Not for Christmas.

She was the first to look away, bending down to reach for her towel.

“Georgia, I—”

The knock on the door was loud and obnoxious. “We know you’re in there.” Flynn shouted jokingly through the door. “No fair having fun without us. You should consider that some of us are younger and have more stamina.”

Chris’s voice was easily heard behind him. “And some of us our older and have more finely crafted skills.”

Jimmy snorted and spoke to the door. “Some of us are police officers and have more guns. We’ll be out in a minute.” He turned her around, looking for…something. “You okay?”

No. She was pretty sure she was something far more extreme than okay. Okay implied average. Fine. Mediocre. Sane. Normal. Not imagining she could be anything more to these men than a snowbound fling. Not dreaming something like this could last beyond a drunken night or the need for human contact.

No. She was definitely not okay.

“I’m fine.”

For a writer, she was also a fairly bad liar.

Chapter Seven

She woke up slowly, feeling as if every part of her body had been beautifully abused. A small smile curved her lips. So it hadn’t been a dream. Her headache was a small price to pay for such an unbelievable night. She hoped her three hosts felt the same. She wasn’t sure what she would do if they didn’t. If they had regrets.

She frowned.

“I liked it better when you were smiling.”

Georgia opened one eye sleepily. Chris. He was smiling. That was a good sign, right? “Good morning.”

He shrugged, setting the book he’d been reading on his lap. “Or afternoon.”

She sat up too quickly, wishing her head had come with her. She reached for it, aching temples and all. “Afternoon? I’m so sorry. Did Roux—?”

“She’s fine. In fact, I think it’s safe to say we all have bad cases of puppy love.” He lowered his lids, pursing his lips as if holding something back. “She’s one smart dog, isn’t she? Flynn wants to teach her how to ski.”

She suddenly saw an image of her poor dog flying down a hill strapped to snow skis; her black muzzle peeled back is an expression of terror, her eyes wide. “Over my dead body. What are you doing?”

He’d been sitting by the window in her bedroom, reading. Chris’s smile was endearing. “Would you believe I was worried about you? We were a little hard on you last night, and you’d just recovered from the ordeal that brought you here.” He shrugged. “You’re also kind of beautiful when you sleep.”

She saw the aspirin and water by her bed and smiled. “Thank you, Doc. This is just what I needed. Other than the teensiest of hangovers, I’m fine.”

“I’m glad. I was just thinking of making you a late breakfast. What would you like?”

She glanced at the worn out, dog-eared paperback and gestured toward it. “What are you reading? Is it another science fiction novel? Are you the one who reads those?”

He laughed. “Usually, but not this time. I’m rereading last year’s gift from Nicholas, to tell you the truth. It’s about a southern girl and her grandfather. Nick loved it. This was actually his copy, which is why it looks so abused. The girl in the story kind of reminds me of you.”

Thankful that she was wearing a t-shirt, she pushed back the covers and got off the bed, walking toward him with a sudden, wary heaviness in her heart.

Chris was still talking. “He said this was the first book ever written by the author, and in his opinion the best. That it was like someone poured their whole heart out into this one book, so that there wasn’t enough left for the others.

She had a heart. She knew because it felt like a fist was squeezing it to death. “What’s it called?”

“
Grandpa Bale’s Southern Tales
. It was written by a G.V. Bale, so maybe it was about a family member—“

She grabbed it out of his hand. “How did you know? I don’t even have a headshot in those books.”

The look in Chris’s blue eyes was genuine shock. “What?”

Even if she did believe he didn’t know what she was talking about, there were too many coincidences these last few days to be believed. “This is
my
book that I wrote about
my
grandfather. I’m G.V. Bale. Georgia Virginia Bale.”

A voice in the doorway had her turning in her tracks. Flynn. “You’re kidding me. I thought G.V. Bale was a man. You actually wrote
Southern Tales
? I can’t believe it.”

 Georgia was in shock. “You read it too?”

Flynn frowned, insulted. “Of course I read it. We all did. It was our Christmas present from Nick. “

“Unbelievable.” Georgia wasn’t sure why she was so upset. Or why all these new doubts were swirling around in her mind. In the whole state of Colorado, she rescues and is rescued by three men who know Connie, know about her relationships, and offer Georgia a blissful night of her dreams. And to top it all off their dead brother had sent them her book for Christmas? She was expecting a hidden camera at any moment.

“Where’s my phone?” She rummaged through her bag, ignoring the two silent men and muttering to herself. There’d been no signal for the last few days, but the storm was over now. “I’m going to get Connie to tell me the truth. Did she tell you about me? Who I was? Was that why you were all so damn…” Perfect?

“What, Georgia?” For the first time since they’d met, Chris sounded angry. He stopped her from searching and turned her around to face him. “
You
told us you were a writer. We took you at your word that you weren’t hiding anything from us, because we didn’t hide anything from you. What is going on in that head of yours? Do you think we do this all the time? That we share our family traditions,
ourselves
with every tourist that passes through?”

She flinched. No, she didn’t. But it was Christmas. And she and Christmas had a steady track record of awful. Secretary flasher had only wanted to impress his co-workers with his published girlfriend. He’d admitted it himself. It’s not like it hadn’t happened before.

Chris let her go and shook his head. “You couldn’t have written that book, Georgia. That book is all about love and trust, family and magic. It was why Nick loved it. You don’t seem to believe in any of that.”

He walked out of the room, leaving Flynn standing in the doorway and her in the middle of the room, her book at her feet. She felt like she’d just been run through with a kitchen knife.

“He didn’t mean it, Georgia. He’s just hurt. He was already worried you’d wake up this morning saying last night was a mistake. Worried we’d pushed you too far. Maybe that because we all wanted you, we’d all lose you.”

She looked over her shoulder in time to see Flynn lean his head against the doorframe and sigh. “Was it a mistake, Georgia? Are you sorry?”

“I’m not sorry.” She wasn’t. She couldn’t bring herself to regret last night. It
had
been magical. “But he’s right too. I’m not the same person who wrote that book.”

That person wouldn’t push love away. Wouldn’t respond to kindness with mistrust. She would have remembered the lessons her grandfather had taught her. To embrace life, because it was short. To embrace love where you found it, because it was rare and precious.

Flynn pushed her hair behind her ear and dipped his head to meet her gaze. “I can see her in you, angel face. I think you’re more like her than you know.”

They heard a loud roar shake through the cabin, startling both of them. Flynn turned and headed to the den to look out the window. “Hell, that son of a bitch just flattened our snowmen.”

She watched him grab his jacket without any further explanation, joining his brothers outside.

Georgia grabbed the nearest pair of pants from her bag, hopping into them on her way to the door. She’d just gotten them zipped when the door opened again, the blast of cold air making her shiver.

She couldn’t believe her eyes. “
Connie
?”

She soon found herself smothered, face first into Connie’s more-bountiful-than-she-remembered breasts. “Only you would get marooned in a mountain cabin this far away from civilization your first trip ever out of the state of Louisiana. When you see what I had to ride in to come and get you, you’ll make me one of your Grandpa’s famous chocolate pecan pies as soon as we get home.”

Georgia wrapped her arms around herself as Connie guided her outside to see what a machine that looked like an armored tank from the future, a snowplow and an escalator made babies. “What is that thing?”

A dark haired man with a charming smile jumped out of the driver’s seat. “A snowcat. Owner at the lodge loaned it to me. His road’s been cleared,” he glanced at the men who had gathered around their fallen creations. “Sorry about the snowmen. I didn’t see them until it was too late. At least I bring good news. Your road should be cleared by tomorrow.”

Georgia bit her lip as the three men continued to stare at Simon, obviously making him feel awkward. He lifted his eyebrows in confusion. “Okay, guys, I know I raised the prices a little this year, but I do have a growing family to feed. Besides, it’s sports equipment. It’s supposed to be expensive.” His gaze landed on Georgia’s with something akin to relief. “You must be Georgia. I’m Simon. Connie has been worried sick about you. Literally, if you ask Lee about it. She couldn’t wait another day.”