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“Do I strike you as the type of woman who buys condoms and has sex on a whim?” She cocked her head, angling her mouth closer to his jaw. “Areyousure about this?”

For a man who seemed solitary, alone, and maybe even a little sad sometimes, he had a dozen different smiles. That was his own armor, she supposed, but she liked this smile. The one that wasn’t blank underneath, and the only sharpness to it was intent. The rest was enjoyment, and she wanted to be the source of that for reasons she hadn’t worked out yet.

But the want was there, and he was here. His mouth touched hers, andLord, he was a patient man. All gentle pressure, the slowest releasing of her hand before his found her waist, found her neck, drew her closer and closer a millimeter at a time.

She sighed against his mouth, and he took the opportunity to draw his tongue across her lower lip. It exploded through her, hot and bright and a little scary—but the kind of scary a person could never quite resist.

“Hell,” he muttered. And then it was like the world ignited. Nothing but heat and the soaring notes to “O Holy Night,” which might have been sacrilegious, but she didn’t care. Not when Gabe’s mouth streaked across hers, not when his arms banded around her, holding her so close she could feel every flex of every impressive muscle in his body. Arms, abs, thighs.

Hellwas right. Because how could she do anything but give into this and him, and she was not used togiving in. It was like leaping off a cliff and free-falling, having no idea when and if she’d land, and how many broken bones she might suffer if she survived at all.

But underneath all that fear was the steady thrum of a pleasure so big and wide she didn’t care about the landing. She only cared that she gotmoreof it.

She managed to create enough distance between their bodies to slide her palms up his stomach and find all that hard, rangy muscle. He scraped his teeth against her lips, and her legs nearly buckled at how muchmoreshe wanted than this.

Then his arms were loosening, and somehow his mouth was off hers. She let out a sound of protest, but she swiftly swallowed it when he reached behind his head and pulled his T-shirt off.

“Oh.”

“Was that another wow?” he asked with that razor-sharp grin that she wanted to taste, then learn how to soften.

“I said‘oh’this time,” she replied primly. Or as prim as she could be with her cheeks on fire and a low pulse ofoh, please, Godthrumming deep inside of her.

“So…” He moved close to her again, his fingers curling under the edge of her flour-dusted T-shirt. “You admit you said wow when we kissed the other night?” he murmured right next to her ear.

She very nearly giggled, but she covered it up by clearing her throat. “Maybe.”

He pulled her shirt up slowly, that obnoxiously wonderful patience he had where it seemed like minutes before it was over her head and she was standing in front of him in her plain, serviceable bra. She might have wished for lace if not for the way his eyes raked over her like she was some sort of prize. As though when he looked at her it affected him just as much as her looking at him affected her.

He reached out, those big hands enveloping her shoulders, then moving down her arms, trailing goose bumps in their wake. Her breathing was too quick and too shallow, but she couldn’t get her brain to send thechillmessage to her lungs.

Colin hugged her so rarely these days, and Mom and Dad were so far away and just not super demonstrative, and it was such an achingthingto be reminded how much she missed being touched. A hug. A caress. A kiss. For so incredibly long, she’d just had to do without, and she probably would again after Christmas.

But for here and now, there was a man who wanted to share his body with her, and she wouldn’tcry, she wouldn’t ruin this precious time. She would indulge in every last aspect of it, memorize it maybe, and it would get her through the next.

She launched herself at him. Wrapped her arms around him, kissed him as deep and wild as she could. She arched against him, desperate for more, and he groaned into her mouth, the sound rumbling through her like an earthquake.

“Which way?” he asked breathlessly.

It took her a few moments to figure out what he meant. “Oh, well. I sleep on the couch.”

“You…what?”

“It pulls out.”

He frowned down at her. “You sleep on a pullout couch?”

“It’s a one-bedroom cabin. I figured since I was the one who made him move here, Colin could have his own bedroom.”

“And you sleep on a pullout couch.”

“It’s practical. Who are you to talk? You sleep in bunk beds.”

“I donotsleep in bunk beds. I sleep in a bunkhouse.”

“That is filled with bunk beds.”

“Okay. Fine. We both have ridiculous sleeping situations.” He stalked over to the couch and started tossing the cushions off. “We can discuss it later.”