Abby's Christmas Spirit by Erin McCarthy Read Free Book Online Page A

there is cinnamon and honey in the bowls. I’m inviting love into my life.”
    For love. That should have scared him, sent him running. Instead, he found himself with a growing erection and the desperate wish that he had furnished this house. With a big, soft bed. “And the wine?”
    She gave a soft, husky laugh. “That’s just for drinking. The bottle’s on the kitchen counter if you’d like some.”
    “As a matter of fact, I’d love some.”
    Abby nodded and went towards the kitchen. He followed her, enjoying the sway of her hips. She was wearing a floral skirt that came to her knees, with tights and ankle boots. It gave him an incredible view of her slim legs and an idea of how easy it would be to shift his hand under that material and stroke her. His mind was going in all sorts of inappropriate directions.
    Or maybe they weren’t so inappropriate.
    Pulling the cork off the bottle, Abby held it up. “I only have one glass. I wasn’t prepared for a party of two.” She took a long swallow directly from the bottle, the red droplets clinging to her lips afterwards. Her tongue trailed slowly along the soft skin, retrieving the remnants of wine in a flirtatious tease. “Do you mind sharing?”
    “No.” Not considering he was going to be sharing a whole lot more with her soon if he had anything to say about it. He took the bottle from her and tipped it back. It was sweeter than he was expecting, the richness awakening his taste buds. Darius watched her watching him.
    When he lowered the bottle, he asked her, “What else can you tell me about my dreams?”
    She took the bottle back from him, but she didn’t drink from it. If she was there, somehow, aware of what he was dreaming about, he wanted to hear her say it. That she knew what they did to each other.
    She didn’t back down from the challenge. Her gaze was steady. “They always end in us having sex. Every single one. Sometimes its in bed, sometimes it’s against a wall, and once it was even on the stairs.”
    His erection throbbed at her words. She knew what they’d done in whatever altered reality sleep was. She knew and she was willing to do it now, here. He could read it in her hooded, lust-filled eyes. “And do you like being in my dreams?”
    There was no hesitation. She just nodded.
    “Does it feel as real to you as it does to me?” He would swear he already knew her body. The feel of her skin, the taste of her sweet secret spots.
    “Oh, yes.”
    Darius moved closer to her, the only thing between them the bottle of wine in her hands. “So you wake up like I do, soaked in sweat, touching yourself, craving that satisfaction we give to each other?”
    Her breath hitched when he cupped her cheek and dragged his thumb across the plumpness of her bottom lip. “Do you?” he asked again, leaning in so that his mouth hovered above hers, their sweet breath mingling, her light delicate perfume filling his nostrils. He waited, giving her an opportunity to move away, to say no, yet he didn’t think she would.
    “Yes. I do.”
    Darius studied her eyes. They were green with amber rings and they drew him in, held him, mesmerized him. He wanted to kiss her, but he didn’t want to break eye contact so he held there, anticipation pulsing in the air around them.
    Until she mouthed silently the words fuck me .
    For a second Darius didn’t react, couldn’t react, the desire so hot and so fast that couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. Then he buried his hands in her hair, so aroused that he had to have her, here, now, in the kitchen against the aging Formica countertop. “My absolute pleasure,” he murmured before he kissed her.
    She tasted the way he knew she would—sweet and complex, like berries drizzled in honey, the wine mingling with her own taste. It was the same, yet better than he could have imagined. It was the dream, but it was real. They pressed their bodies together tightly, the wine bottle hard between them, her leg snaking out to move