Page 29 of Cooped Up for Christmas

Why was I denying myself? Really?

Because that man wanted me. He’d made it more than clear.

Rejection was not an issue here.

So what was?

I knew I was afraid of another broken heart. Who wouldn’t be? But honestly? At my age? Hadn’t I survived worse than that?

So stone-cold fear shouldn’t be an issue here either.

What then?

Yeah. Nothing. Absolutely, fricking nothing.

There was absolutely no reason to deny myself.

God, help me.

I stood and let the book slip from my fingers. As I made my way to the door separating us, I undid the snaps on my onesie and slid it off. After a deep breath, my underwear followed.

Quickly, before I could chicken out, I opened the door and stepped into the room.

It was sultry and hot. The scent of him infused the air.

I saw him there, in the shower, beneath the spray of water, a blur. The glass door was fogged over, but he must have sensed something, because he stilled. Turned. Then he opened the door, releasing a plume of steam. It swirled around him, then me, and then it dissipated, leaving us bare to each other.

Yes. I was right. He was the epitome of male perfection. Long, lean, muscled, and tan. There was a sprinkle of hair on his chest that darkened as it trailed down and—

Oh! Apparently he liked what he saw as well.

I didn’t bother to wonder or fret about what he would think of my body. I didn’t have to.

“Vic?” He reached for a towel and dried his hair, because it was dripping in his eyes.

I stepped toward him and pushed him back into the spray. “This is not a thing,” I said.

He tossed the towel and grinned. “Isn’t it?”

“No. It’s a one-time deal, Coop.” He pulled me into his arms—ah! Skin against skin! So warm. So hard. So perfect. “This is just a stress reliever, okay?” God, he felt so good.

He chuckled. “So you’re using me for sexual relief, is that it?” He found my ear and then kissed his way to my mouth.

“Do you have a problem with that?” I asked between shivers.

His grin was infectious. “Not in the least.”

“Well, all right then, shall we—”

He turned me and pressed me against the wall in a rush, as though he’d been just waiting for some kind of definitive go ahead. I mean, if walking up to a man, buck-naked, doesn’t qualify as a green light, what does? But once I was in his arms, I couldn’t wait either. I was starved, and so was he.

We devoured each other.

It was wild and thrilling. Everything I remembered, and more. Oh, so much more.

He was a man now, and he made love like a man. Hard and bold, gentle and sweet. He brought me to heaven twice with his body and words, once in the shower, and once after we’d dried off, in bed. And then, he held me, stroked me, slowly, endlessly as we waited for our bodies to recharge.

When I teased him that he’d apparently learned a lot in his travels, he vowed to show me more.