Page 53 of Christmas Wish
“Thirty-six,” she groaned.
One corner of his mouth hitched up in a cocky smile. “I never had the hots for an older woman before.”
Savannah lightly kicked him.
He laughed and squeezed her foot. “I like it though.”
“Like I believe that. Why would you want me when you could have younger, prettier women falling at your feet? Brandi’s at least ten or twelve years younger than me.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re gorgeous and sexy in a way that drives men wild.”
Bret didn’t think so.
Ryder shook his head. “I’m not interested in young girls, and before you roll those beautiful blue eyes at me, I already explained about Brandi.” He knocked her feet off the couch and moved toward her. “Give me your sweet lips, darlin’.” Heat rippled off him.
Shivers zinged through Savannah’s body, her pulse beat rapidly, and her stomach did somersaults as she leaned forward and fell into his arms. She touched his perfectly carved lips, and in an impatient gesture, he clutched the back of her neck and crushed his mouth against hers. He tasted of whiskey and peppermint from the candy cane he’d chomped on during the ride back, and she loved it.
Savannah pressed herself firmly against him, her muscles straining to get as close as she could. Aching to touch his heated skin, she pulled at his T-shirt until it lifted up from the waistband of his jeans, then she glided her fingers underneath the hem, pressing them against the corded muscles of his back. He groaned into her mouth, and the sound shuddered through her.
Ryder’s mouth moved past hers and down to her jawline, where he planted soft kisses. Each brush of his trailing lips ignited flames along her skin.
“I want you so fucking bad. Now. I know you want me too,” he rasped between kisses.
His words and touch sent carnal tingles down her spine. “I do want you. I ache for you, but—” The muscles in his back stiffened under her fingers as he broke away, his eyes meeting hers.
“But what?” Lines spanned across his forehead as he scowled.
“I want to be with you, but”—her gaze dragged away from his as she glanced at the hallway—“Timmy may come out. I don’t want that to happen. As it is, everything that’s been going on these days is confusing enough for him.”
Ryder didn’t respond right away, and Savannah expected him to pull away from her and tell her to go to hell before stalking out of the room. Instead, he swept his tongue across her lips then held her close.
“I understand, darlin’. Timmy’s still thinking about his dad.” His warm breath slipped over her skin and the place between her legs twinged with a dull throb.
“Tomorrow night we’ll be alone,” she whispered. “Timmy’s going to a sleepover, remember?”
“That’s right. Fuck baby, right now, tomorrow feels like it’ll never get here.” He bit her neck and she yelped. “I could just eat you all up.”
“I’m going to have a mark there,” she said, pulling away as she moved her hand to cover her neck.
“The next ones will be where no one but you and I can see them.” Ryder winked at her and sat back.
The idea of her pale skin being the canvass for Ryder’s love bites turned her on more than she cared to admit … especially to him. “We’ll see about that.” She pushed off the couch. “Do you want another drink?” When he nodded, she scooped up his glass and walked into the kitchen to pour them each another.
Savannah sagged against the counter, staring out at the shards of moonlight highlighting patches of snow outside. The thought of them making love the following night threw her nerves into overdrive. She wanted it badly—it’d been so long since a man had desired her, but she worried it would change things between them.Maybe he doesn’t really want to … I mean I’m the one who suggested tomorrow night. Could I have sounded more desperate? He didn’t bring up the sleepover … I did.
“You need some help with those drinks?” Ryder asked.
Savannah hurriedly filled their glasses and handed a tumbler to him before sinking down on the other end of the couch; she didn’t trust herself to be too close to Ryder.
Ryder took a large drink, placed his glass down and stared at her with those intense dark eyes that made her fluttery and intimidated at the same time. A few minutes passed before he shifted in his seat and faced her.
“Does Timmy ask a lot about his dad?” he said.
Savannah let out an audible sigh. “Not really. Bret didn’t spend a lot of time with him.”
“Even so, it must be hard on the boy and even harder on his dad.”
Irritation pricked her skin. “I don’t think so. Timmy’s dad would never win a Father-of-the-Year award, and Timmy’s used to not seeing very much of him.” She took a sip of her drink. “Don’t judge or presume things you don’t know anything about.”
