A Savannah Christmas Wish. Nan Dixon

He dropped her in the middle and followed her down. His only goal was getting inside her hot body.

      “Unzip me.” She rolled to her side. “Please.”

      Daniel found the tab and dragged it down, kissing every inch of the lemony skin he uncovered. By the time he’d tugged the zip free, Bess squirmed under his lips.

      He backed away. She wiggled out of the dress and the slip of yellow between her legs.

      The last time they’d been together, he’d been drunk. Not drunk enough to keep him from performing—poorly—but enough to forget most of the details. No way would he forget tonight.

      She hopped on the bed. “Get your clothes off. You’re behind.”

      She pushed his shirt off his chest, imprisoning his arms.

      “I can’t get my pants off like this,” he complained.

      “Let me.” She tugged on his belt buckle, flipped the fly button open and ran the zipper over his straining erection. Her fingers reached in, wrapping around him like a vise.

      His groan echoed in the dark room. He needed to take control or this would be over too soon. There was a rip and his shirt loosened enough to get one hand out.

      He kissed her, rolling her underneath him. He was in charge now.

      “Hey.”

      He pushed off his wet pants and underwear, everything tangling on his soggy shoes. He scrambled off the bed, sliding to the floor in a tangled heap. “Find a condom,” he called up, separating his pants from his wet shoes.

      A drawer screeched. Foil crinkled.

      He vaulted back onto the bed, snatched the condom from her fingers and sheathed himself.

      She cradled him between her legs.

      Their lips came together in a deep, penetrating kiss. His hands wrapped around her hips, tugging her up. She guided him inside and he slid home.

      Sparks flashed behind his closed eyelids. His breath bellowed. He heard her small moans. Their bodies fit together like a dovetail joint. Perfect.

      “You feel...amazing.” Too amazing. He couldn’t slow down, sliding faster and faster in and out of her incredible body. Panic built as his control slipped. Each thrust drove him to the edge of madness.

      “Ooh.” Bess tilted her hips, wrapping a leg around him. “I’m so close.”

      He slid deeper, unable to stop. Before he lost his last shred of control, he had to give her a release. Gritting his teeth, he reached between them and touched her.

      She drove against him, her green eyes locked on his. Her fingers clawed his back and she came apart.

      Her scream took him over the edge. He closed his eyes, slamming home once more, and the bed bounced against the wall. His arms shook as her body squeezed around him.

      He collapsed. Their chests rose and fell together in air-sucking gasps.

      It had never been like this. Only one other time had he been so out of control...and so satisfied. It had been with Bess. That time, he hadn’t waited for her orgasm.

      He rolled off her, embarrassed by the memory.

      “Oh, my.” She curled into his side. “That was worth waiting ten years.”

       Shit.

      He covered his eyes with his arm, gathering the strength to take care of the condom. Rolling out of bed, he staggered to the bathroom.

      Bloodshot eyes stared at him from the mirror. He never drank more than two drinks. He’d had, what—three whiskeys, wine with dinner and an unknown quantity of champagne?

      This was what happened when he was around Bess. He acted stupid—lost control.

      He moved back into the bedroom and gathered his clothes.

      She opened her eyes, looking rumpled and gorgeous. “It’s late. Don’t go.”

      He sat on the end of the bed. Numb.

      She patted the mattress. “Stay with me.”

      This was all wrong. He should go. But his body refused. “Sure.”

      After folding his clothes, he set them on an armchair. Sliding into bed, he lay down. His muscles were as tight as a running sail.

      She rolled and pillowed her head on his chest.

      He shouldn’t be here.

      “Good night,” she whispered.

      He wrapped an arm around her, and she snuggled deeper. He’d straighten out this mess—tomorrow.

      * * *

      BESS GRABBED HER HEAD. Pain hammered behind her eyes. Samuel had warned her to take aspirin last night, hadn’t he? The night was a blur. She rolled and the sheet slid across her naked body. Naked?

      Her leg brushed a hairy leg. No.

      Blond hair sparkled in the dappled sunlight. Daniel. Her heart pounded a little harder. Stubble covered his jaw, a darker shade of blond than his hair. Luckily, he was still asleep.

      She closed her eyes. Not again.

      The night flooded back to her. Walking with Daniel. The fountain. Daniel carrying her home. All those glorious muscles. No key. Daniel. Sex. Hot, mind-blowing sex. Life-changing sex. Why did this all have to be with Daniel?

      She held her aching head. Lord, she wasn’t seventeen and foolish anymore. Last night was the worst thing she could have done.

      She’d slept with the man who’d tossed her aside as if she were a dying plant. Her breath came out in ragged gasps. Ten years ago, she’d pleaded with him to give her a chance. He’d said he could never be with someone like her. Could never stand worrying about what she would do next.

      Yet last night, she’d begged him to touch her. Begged him to stay.

      Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

      She wiggled away from him, trying to escape.

      A heavy hand dropped on her hip and pulled her flush with his aroused body. “G’morning.”

      She shoved his arm away.

      He blinked and shifted. So did the covers. “Oh, shit.”

      She grabbed the sheet, tucking it under her arms.

      Daniel flopped onto his back. “This shouldn’t have happened.”

      His words were like a thorn, catching her by surprise. She slithered to a sitting position. “Good morning to you.”

      The air crackled with enough tension to set off a lightning storm.

      He shook his head. “We shouldn’t have slept together.”

      “But we did.” She couldn’t remember anyone turning her on as much as Daniel had. Why did it have to be him? Forbidden fruit, much?

      Daniel levered his toned body up and braced his back against her headboard. His fingers dug into his hair. “We were drunk.”

      The thorn burrowed deeper. She hadn’t expected an undying vow of love—not from Daniel. But he could at least acknowledge the sparks between them.

      “So...” She couldn’t stand the silence. “We hooked up at a wedding.” She tried to keep it airy. Tried to push away the hurt. “Big deal. We responded to...” She waved her hand between them.

      “I don’t hook up with people I’ve known all my life.” His eyelids shuttered his brown eyes. His cold, emotionless voice lashed out at her. “I never hook up.”

      “You think I do?” she choked out.

      “No.” He reached out to her.

      She slapped his