Page 36 of Christmas at the Home Farm Vets (Hartfell Village #2)

Erin woke again later, sunrise still a while off yet.

She lay back and stared at the ceiling, wanting strangely to cry.

They had managed it; she and Oli had spent the night in the same bed, and the knowledge should have been a triumph.

She was trying to recall why being sensible had been such a good idea and instead all she could think of was his fingers on her back, undoing the spaghetti straps of her dress and how she’d longed for him to continue.

Oli’s bare chest was revealed by the duvet he’d pushed away, and she was loath to disturb him again.

Trying to banish the indecision racing around in her head, she slid out of bed and crept to the bathroom.

She freshened up and stared at her reflection in the mirror.

The make-up had gone, her hair was returned to its usual long, loose curls and she looked like ordinary Erin again, not the woman who’d worn a beautiful silk dress and danced in the arms of the only man she’d ever loved.

Her family and her career were everything to her, but Oli was moving on soon.

What if they missed this final chance to be together?

At least she understood after the conversation with Imogen last weekend that creating a home wasn’t for him, and their priorities were different.

They were leaving for Hartfell in a few hours, and she knew, absolutely understood, that there her resolve would be stronger.

She returned along the landing, her pulse banging with nerves and something much more dangerous.

It was desire, and she was so tired of pretending.

She opened the bedroom door and halted abruptly. Oli was sitting up, illuminated by faint golden lamplight. He looked sleepily dishevelled and utterly gorgeous, and Erin swallowed as he ran a hand through his hair.

‘Sorry,’ she croaked. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you again.’

‘Don’t be.’ He smiled slowly as he eased the hand behind his head. ‘Much as I love you wearing my clothes, I’d like my T-shirt back now please. I’m cold.’

‘No you’re not.’ This was the moment, and her decision was made. A tremor darted over her skin as she closed the door, her low tone matching his. ‘You’re just saying that because you want me to take it off. At least that’s what I think you meant.’

His eyes darkened as they went to the T-shirt skimming her thighs, and his lazy smile widened. ‘That’s exactly what I meant.’

She was remembering the last time she’d worn something of his; when he’d tossed a drink over her at the May Ball, and she’d made him swap shirts.

That rush of confidence and joy after their first kiss, the powerful high of realising he’d wanted her as much as she did him.

She wasn’t that same young woman now, caught between their past and an uncertain future.

She was stronger, capable and decisive. And she wanted him.

‘If you want it you’ll have to come and get it.’ The husky note in her voice was new and she raised the hem of his T-shirt an inch, that same confidence surging again as he watched.

In a second he’d flipped the duvet aside and got out of the bed.

As he slowly walked towards her, she was drinking him in too, those shoulders and the arms that had held her before.

The bare chest she couldn’t stop thinking about, night after night in bed with Oli sleeping just the other side of the wall.

He halted six inches away and her senses were full of vanilla again, her heart full of him.

A tear slipped free at the longing and passion she read in his eyes, and he caught it with a finger, gently brushing it away.

It was as though she was seeing him for the first time, without the barriers of before and the differences in their backgrounds she’d always thought had mattered.

‘If this isn’t what you want, Oli, then say so now.’

‘Erin, I’ve waited years for you.’ He tilted his head to murmur the words into her ear, letting his lips brush her skin, and she was already lost. ‘Don’t ever doubt that I want you. I always have, and that won’t change.’

‘So that’s a yes, then,’ she whispered. She couldn’t close her eyes; she wanted to drink in the desire in his. Oli’s lips were making their way to her mouth, leaving soft kisses along her neck and then her jaw.

‘A most unequivocal, absolutely, definitely yes,’ he murmured. ‘What about you? And please, I beg you, don’t mention work.’

‘Totally yes, how could you doubt it now?’ She stood on tiptoe, loving the muttered groan he uttered when she kissed the corner of his mouth. ‘And I’m not really thinking about work.’

‘Not really thinking about it?’ There was mock outrage now, too, and he tugged on a curl. ‘I’m obviously not doing enough to distract you.’

‘You are, honestly,’ she said breathlessly. ‘But we can’t take this into the practice, not ever. We can’t let anyone suspect. Promise me?’

‘If I promise not to sneak you away into the kennels so we can be alone, will you promise to stop talking about work?’

‘Promise.’

‘So do I. And I’ve finally realised there’s only one way to stop you talking.’

‘Oh?’ She arched an eyebrow, and her hands inched up his arms to his shoulders, allowing her fingers to explore him at last. ‘Are you going to tell me?’

‘Nope. I’m going to show you.’

Then his mouth was on hers, parting her lips as he kissed her.

Erin was frantic to make up for lost time and rediscover him again, already drowning in the passion she’d only ever felt with him.

The only man she’d ever loved. Her hands were tangled in his hair as he pushed her back against the door and slid a firm thigh between her legs.

His beard grazed her skin, and he groaned again when she curled into him, her curves soft against the hard planes of his body.

He pulled back to run his hands through her curls, tousling them some more. ‘You looked beautiful with your hair up, but I love it like this as well.’ His arms fell and he took hold of the hem of his T-shirt. ‘And this looks much better on you, but I still want it back.’

‘Take it then,’ she whispered. She raised her arms above her head, and he tugged it off, tossing it to join her discarded pyjamas on the floor.

Heat was curling in every part of her, and her stomach dropped as she watched his eyes on her body.

Last time they’d done this she’d been wearing a white lace bra and now there was nothing to hide her from his gaze.

His hands were on her waist, and he muttered something she didn’t hear as they inched higher, until his thumbs and then his hands were on her breasts.

‘You’re stunning,’ he ground out, sliding one hand to the small of her back to pull her into him. ‘Completely beautiful. I love you in nothing but lace.’

‘So are you.’ She truly felt it, saw the truth of his words and his desire for her laid bare in his eyes.

Her breasts were pressed against his chest, dark hair grazing her nipples and heightening every sensation already burning.

‘I’ve dreamed about this so many times. I want the reality of you, I want to feel you against me. ’

His reply was to take her hands so she could slide his shorts down and he hurriedly kicked them away. His eyes darkened yet more as she ran her hands from his chest to his shoulders, and she pulled his head down to kiss him again, his mouth expert and demanding on hers.

His thumbs were inside her lace thong, and he quickly slid it down until it was at her feet, and she stepped out of it.

Then there was nothing but their nakedness and she was glorying in it, and him.

Oli turned her swiftly, one arm hooked around her waist to hold her against him as he kissed her all the way back to the bed and scooped her up to drop her onto it.

‘Oli, wake up.’ Erin leaned over him, her breasts and long hair brushing his chest. His hand went to her back, holding her close.

‘I’m asleep, but I won’t be for much longer with you like that.’

‘It’s eight fifteen! We can’t stay here all morning, we’re meeting your dad and Christina in a couple of hours. And I can hear Imogen and Alex downstairs. What are they going to think if we’re not up as well?’

‘They’ll think we don’t want to get up because we’ve been making perfect and incredible love all morning.’ He opened one eye, and she laughed at the expression on his face. ‘Which is the truth, so what does it matter?’

‘Because it does!’

‘Does it?’ He opened the other eye, and that same languid smile Erin wore was parting his lips. ‘And I don’t want brunch, I want you.’

‘We can’t, it’s too late and they’ll hear us!’

Something caught in her memory, the half promise she’d made to herself a few hours ago; that this one night would be enough, and she knew now that it wouldn’t, not ever.

She wanted this morning, tonight, tomorrow; she wanted it all with him.

But Monday was a reality they’d have to face, and she tried to hide it somewhere it couldn’t intrude on these moments.

She loved the smug look of satisfaction he wore, the lazy desire in his gaze, the hand exploring her bare back and holding her captive as his fingers tucked her hair behind one ear.

‘And you don’t think they might have heard us before?’

‘I hope not,’ Erin said vehemently, a flare of embarrassment brightening her skin into a blush. ‘It was very early, and we were quiet.’

‘Fairly quiet.’ Oli grinned as he pushed himself into a sitting position, taking her with him. ‘See look, I am very awake.’

‘That was never in doubt,’ she murmured, unable to resist another kiss, easing herself onto his lap.

‘If you’re serious about getting up then that’s really not helping,’ he said sternly, both hands on her waist.

‘Maybe another five minutes,’ she said softly, smiling at his muttered groan as she trailed her lips from his jaw to his ear, nibbling at his neck on the way. ‘Is that enough?’

‘Nowhere near,’ he whispered back, settling her on his thighs and shoving the duvet away. ‘Not ever.’