Christmas Presence

She leaned back in the water and wearily closed her eyes, letting the steam curl up over her shoulders and caress her flushed cheeks. A long, heavy sigh escaped her – hope, fear, and longing all rolled together in a drawn-out, shaky breath. Her fingers trembled, and rapidly melting cubes clinked merrily together in her half-empty tumbler. She frowned and set the drink down on the redwood shelf behind her. She'd made the offer, now she had to wait and see what he chose to do.

The waiting, she knew, was the hardest part.

Turning slightly on the smooth bench, she curled an arm under her head, sliding down so the heat and steam lapped at her neck, tickled her ear. She looked out over the city lights, willing herself to relax, letting the muted bustle of holiday traffic drift over her.

She liked this time of year…or had, once upon a time. In a land that seemed far, far away, things had been merry and bright – she had been merry and bright. He had done that for her – found the smile she'd lost, the laughter she'd given up on…reminded her of the joy to be had in life, in living.

Like well-worn photographs, she sifted through the memories, a soft smile tilting her lips. She heard his voice as he simplified the intricacies of roux, felt his touch as he twirled her through a two-step. She felt wallboard beneath her palm as he fulfilled her fantasy…and shivered in the remembered breeze of an open window, as she curled around him in a straight-backed chair. Image after image swept over her, leaving her flushed and yearning, aching for the past, even while she prayed for the future.

Dipping a fingertip into the water, she trailed lazy patterns through the misty heat. She'd hoped he'd be here by now. Had hoped he'd meet her in the lobby, or even called from the airport. But she'd heard nothing, been greeted by no one. It had been sheer hope that had kept her feet moving up the stairs and across the dimly-lit roof, stubborn pride that had made her slip one long leg, then the other, into the steamy hot water, when all she wanted to do was run away to some dark, hidden corner and cry her eyes out. And it was utter desperation that had forced her, after a mind-numbing hour of being alone, to slink into the bar and order a Jim Beam and Pepsi, hissing at that first raw sting, drowning in the memories of a different place and time, and the man who'd given her the world.

Reaching over her shoulder, she picked up the glass and finished off the watery remains, slipping an ice cube onto her tongue and rolling the cool glass over the hot flush of her cheek. She held her breath as the clock tower chimed, the distant bells etching misery into her heart. Her two-hour time limit was up, and she was alone. He'd made his choice.

Dropping her head into the crook of her elbow, she let the pain rip through her, blast after blast of agonizing grief crashing through her until finally she surged to her feet, eyes closed and teeth clenched as she physically forced the rage, the hurt, the misery into a manageable knot that she could set aside.

Lifting her face to the night sky, she gasped as a breath of cold kissed across her skin, sliding over her cheek and down her neck. Another followed, and another, Lady Winter's frozen tears mingling with the heat of her own. First snowfall…he'd always called it a new beginning. But this time, it was a beginning she refused to accept, the end of a dream she couldn't bear to relinquish.

"Oh sugar…don' cha know your tears are the one thing that can destroy me?"

At the rough whisper, she trembled, afraid to open her eyes, afraid of what she might – or might not – see.

She felt his finger brush against the curve of her cheek, petal-soft in the steamy fog of the rooftop hot tub. She shuddered.

"Darlin'…please don't cry" Pain shimmered in his voice as his hand cupped her cheek, thumb tracing the soft line of her swollen, quivering lips.

She bit her lip against a sob, turning her face into that familiar hand, pressing against him, daring to hope.

Cradling her head between his hands, he brushed his lips over her lashes, kissing away her tears, murmuring soft words, holding her as if she were made of fine-spun glass.

Warmth and concern glittered in his brown eyes.

At the doubt so obvious on her face, he smiled. "Yeah, baby…I'm here." He shrugged, playing off the frustration that he'd felt for the past six hours. "Last minute work to finish up, delayed flight…but I'm here."

A smile spread slowly across her face as she realized he really was there, holding her, not just the figment of her imagination that he'd been so many times before. She lifted her fingers and sifted them through the softness of his hair, watched him shiver as her nails gently stroked along his scalp. Turning her head she pressed her lips to his wrist, thrilling at the feel of his rough, ragged pulse. Wonder flushed through her at the thought that maybe he was running on nerves and anticipation as well.

Grinning, he threaded his fingers through the wet curls lying damply against her neck, softly massaging the slick skin. "Got enough room in there for me?"

Slowly she stepped back, caressing her palm along his neck, over his shoulders, until her fingers tangled with his. Tugging gently, she grinned at him. "Sure. We can spare…oh, five minutes before they come around to kick me out."

He lifted her hands, brushing a soft, nibbling kiss along her knuckles, smiling to himself at the gasp she couldn't quite hold back. "No worries, 'tit chat… I stopped at the desk on the way up." He nipped the end of a finger between his teeth. "We've got 'til closing."

She struggled to breathe as her bones turned liquid. "So what're you waiting for," she gasped.

His dark eyes drilled through her. "You. Seems like I've waited my whole life for you."

The water splashed as she slid, boneless, to the bench rimming the tub. The knot of hair piled on her head slipped loose, soft, wet strands curling over softer, wetter skin. Her eyes were rounded, her lips parted. He tugged on her fingers, pulling her toward him.

He slid one hand through the tangled curls at the nape of her neck, tipping her head up to his as he slid an arm around her back to hold her tight. He leaned forward to kiss her, grinning as one hand tried to push him away while the other pulled him closer.

"You're getting wet," she murmured, wanting to keep him dry even as she ached to get closer.

He growled deep in his throat, the heat in his eyes scorching her. "I plan on getting a whole lot wetter."

She actually felt her brain short-circuit. "Oh my," she whimpered. Taking a deep breath, she slid her hands to his shoulders and around his neck. "C'mere."

She took her time, letting the ache build. Barely touching her lips to his, she closed her eyes and simply breathed. She could feel his own ragged exhalations, and when he swallowed hard, she flushed with pleasure. She let the tip of her tongue explore him – lips, mouth, teeth, tongue. She quivered with pleasure, with longing, with need.

She ran a finger inside the collar of his shirt. Eyes smoldering, she backed away the barest inch, letting her finger lay quiet against the dip of his collarbone. Gently she tugged on his shirt. "Might wanna get outta this," she smiled.

"Mmm hmm… and you might wanna get back in the water where it's warm," he shot back, nodding at the visible signs of her chill through the sleek, wet suit she wore.

She watched, enthralled, as he skimmed off his shirt, slipped out of his jeans, toed off his sneakers. In less than a heartbeat, he was sliding into the water beside her, pulling her back into his arms and just holding her, relaxing in the heat of the steam and the warmth of her touch.

At her muffled sniffle, he tipped her chin and saw the sparkle of tears. "Sugar?" His voice was rough with concern.

Her small laugh quavered on the thick air. "Sorry," she said, flapping a hand and averting her eyes. "I just… I thought you weren't going to come," she explained in a mumbled rush, heat flushing her cheeks, "and now you're here, and it's…." She trailed off, at a loss for words.

"I know, chere… I know." He tucked her head into his shoulder, leaning his cheek against her temple, closing his eyes and just holding her. "I was afraid you'd leave before I could get here," he admitted.

She sniffled. "Years ago I told you I'd wait for you." Her hand traveled the length of his back, reacquainting herself with the length of his spine, the breadth of his shoulders.

She gave a watery laugh. "Besides, don't you know the best things are worth waiting for?"

With a low moan, he tipped her head and devoured her. His tongue tangled around hers as his hands swept along her wet length, pressing her to him so that not even the melting snow could slip between them. He spanned her ribs, caressed her waist, stroked the flare of her hip. Her whimpers and gasps made him hotter, hungrier. He slid a hand into the water, following the curve of her hip, slicking over the length of her leg, tugging her knee up to rest on his hip, curling her even closer around him.

She moaned deep in his mouth, arching her back to press tightly against him, water and cloth doing little to hide their attraction. She felt him rock against her, and saw starbursts behind her eyelids. His name was a gasp of her breath that he swallowed with a secret smile.

Water sloshed as she pushed him back onto the bench, straddling his thighs, wisps of steam rising off her heated skin as beads of water begged his tongue to lick them dry. Bending his head, he complied, growling at her cries of pleasure, the uncontrollable shift of her hips as his touch made her burn bright and hot.

Taking a deep breath, she slipped a finger under the narrow strap of her suit. Gathering her courage, she ran her finger along the strap, looking anywhere but at him. When he stilled, she flushed. "It's been a while," she whispered. "I don't look the same." Heat painted her cheeks crimson.

He placed his hand over hers, stilling the nervous motion of that restless finger. "Neither do I." He squeezed her fingers, willing her to see that he saw.

"It was so easy on the phone… on the computer," she mumbled. "All the emotion, none of the disappointment," she said, gesturing along her length.

With a lethal grin, he curled his fingers around hers, tugging the strap off her shoulder, along her arm, feeling the resistance as it caught on the curve of her breast, the seam riding the crest of her nipple. Her obviously stiff, swollen nipple. He admired the view for several long heartbeats, before catching his breath and staring into her eyes.

"What's out here," he said, rubbing the backs of his fingers over that aching nipple, making her back arch even as her breath shuddered out of her in a ragged moan, "is nice. Very nice," he amended with a grin. "But it's what's in here that captured me, then and now," he said as his fingers pressed against her heart, feeling its rapid, heavy beat.

She looked deep into his eyes, reading him. Trusting him. Wobbly, she stepped back, took a deep breath, and peeled the wet suit down, watching him as he watched her, gaining courage at his pleasure.

Slowly bending forward, she slipped the suit completely off, dropping it over the edge with a wet splat before slipping back onto his lap, hoping he liked the impromptu display as much as she enjoyed giving it.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face in the curve of her neck and just holding her, letting her feel his reaction rather than trying to reassure her with words.

The feel of her thighs quivering against his legs nearly drove him insane. Grasping low on her hips, he pulled her tight against him, her heat making the steamy water seem cool in comparison. He throbbed in anticipation, remembering, as he had for years, how she felt wrapped around him.

Shifting on the bench, he leaned forward, tipping her out over the water. Bracing her on his arms, he slowly dropped her back, until her hair floated on the steam-laden water and gentle waves lapped at the sides of her breasts.

"Look up, baby," he whispered, smiling at the wonder on her face as she watched the falling snow swirl and dance on the steam. Slowly he bent forward, laving the underside of her breasts with his tongue, feeling her tremble even as her nipples cried for his attention.

She gasped, lacing her fingers through his hair, holding him to her, spreading her legs wider as she rubbed along his length. Moaning, she tried to guide his mouth around her aching breasts. He continued to tease and torment her, until with a frustrated cry she sat upright, catching his hands in the tangle of wet hair streaming down her back.

Feeling him tug on the tangles, she tipped her head back, baring her neck, daring him to sample the creamy soft skin. His teeth nipped her, and she felt her breath hitch, her mind go numb. Fire flooded through her, and need – sharp, hot need, making her writhe and ache and hiss.

Impatient, achy, she reached between them, cupping him, caressing him, swallowing his moan as she tugged gently. As his own eyes crossed, she enveloped him in her heat, slowly taking him in, inch by torturous inch. By the time he was completely surrounded in her tight, wet sheath, they were both gasping, hot, open-mouthed struggles for air punctuated by long, noisy kisses.

She couldn't stop touching him. Feeling him, so tight and deep inside her, she felt as though every nerve was on fire, and the only way to cool the burn was to touch him, press her skin against his. She leaned, rocked, twisted, wriggled, writhed, stroked. She caressed, kissed, nibbled, licked, sucked, and, when her legs felt up to it, she ever-so-gently bounced. Gasping, moaning, his name a chant in her mind, on her lips, she lifted, shifted, slid back down…and drove both of them completely insane, until he grabbed her hips and held her still, shaking with restraint.

She whined softly.

"Oh, sugar." His laugh was rough and wry. He rested his forehead on her shoulder and fought not to lose himself in the steam, the heat, the pulse and pull and vibration that was her. But her fingertips caressed, her scent pulled, her whispered beckoned, and he was lost. His arms clamped around her waist, his face buried in her neck, he surged deep, shuddering, her name a soft moan.

Feeling his release brought on her own orgasm, and as he pulsed, she clenched, drawing him deeper, holding him tighter. She sighed his name as stars exploded inside her, seeking and finding his lips, offering her soul for his taking.

"Mon dieu." His ragged oath made her giggle, a soft, sated whisper of sound that stroked his ego even as the vibration stroked his softening length.

He settled back against the rim of the tub, leaning his head on the shelf, pulling her down to cuddle against his side. Draping his arm over her shoulder, he absently stroked the curve of her ear, the curls at her temple. Tilting his head, he shot her a wicked grin. "I almost wish I smoked."

Snorting with laughter, she lay her hand against his chest, feeling how the ragged rhythm of his heartbeat so closely matched her own. "Mmmm. I daresay parts of me are smoking." Sliding her hand around his waist, she hugged him, burrowing into his shoulder, closing her eyes, excited and content all at once, and happier than she could remember being in a long time.

Feeling her purr of pleasure, his grin faded as he wondered yet again how she could do this. How she fit him so well, knew him so well. He thought of the where they'd both been, and wondered what might yet come.

"We'll figure it out." Her soft whisper startled him, even as her hand slid from his chest to his neck, a soft caress teemed with emotion rather than lust.

"How do you do that?" he marveled, stroking a fingertip along the rise of her cheek.

Her smile was small, and guarded. She merely shrugged, and he watched her teeth bite into her lower lip as she started to turn away.

"Sugar...?" His gentle touch stilled her, his dark brown eyes staring into hers, watching as emotions she couldn't hide swirled through their blue depths. She licked her lips, swallowed hard, then shook her head, looking away.

He drew her back with a steady, firm fingertip under her chin. Reading what was clear in her eyes, he smiled. Cupping her cheek in his hand, he brushed his lips over her forehead, across her eyes, settling on her lips. Sharp longing stabbed through him, even as he kept the kiss gentle, soft, sweet.

When her lips parted under his, her head angling for better contact, he moaned. His fingers slid into her hair, cupping the back of her head, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss. Her soft, gasping sighs echoed on the steam-laden air. Her hand, coursing along his body, encountered proof of his arousal. She pulled back, her eyes dazed, her smile wide.

"Definitely not old," she teased. "I told you that a thousand times. Believe me now?" She fluttered her lashes at him, even as her hand made him quiver.

"You do that to me," he grinned, cheeks flushed. "I'd get off work, could hear my bones creaking on the way home. We'd talk, and I'd swear I could do cartwheels across the living room."

Her grin softened. "Oh sugar. You have no idea what you do to me, either." She glanced away, then back, her own cheeks flushed. "I could be in the worst mood, and after hearing your voice, or seeing you pop up on the computer, nothing could take away my smile."

He tucked a stray curl behind her ear, hiding a gentle smile against the top of her head. Turning, he pressed his lips to her hair in the briefest of caresses. "Well," he murmured, "why don't we see what we can do about bringing that smile out…and making it stay a while."

In a move so quick it made her squeal, he spun around to kneel between her legs. Stroking the length of her thigh, he pressed closer, gazing into her eyes, grinning in pure male pleasure when his relentless advance made her eyes go hazy. Her soft, ragged moans shot straight through him, the surge of pleasure making him throb against her, smooth steel pressing into molten lava.

"So you like my voice," he whispered with a grin. His lips brushed her ear. "Now would that be for the sound, or the wicked things I talk about doing to you?" She shivered, his answering chuckle making her bite her lip against a moan.

Nuzzling her ear, he whispered thoughts, ideas, suggestions, in that crooning Cajun patois that lay so easy on her ear. Her thighs quivered under his hands, making his voice a little rougher, his eyes a little hotter. His fingers spread wide, digging into her soft skin, making her back arch. Her breasts, flattened against him, peaked in response to the rapid rise and fall of his chest against her pebbled tips. Her head dropped back on a suddenly boneless neck, and she whimpered in frustrated pleasure. Taking advantage of the exposed curve of skin right under his lips, he leaned forward, brushing the barest of kisses over her erratic pulse.

She lifted a hand to hold his head to her, but he captured her wrist, pinning it to the other behind her back. Again she arched, rubbing against him. Her breath caught, then released on a shaky whimper. His sexy laugh rolled over her as he bent his head, stroked the curve of her creamy breasts with his tongue, tested the rosy crests with his teeth. She rocked her hips, wordlessly pleading for him to take her, fill her.

When his free hand slipped down beneath the water to stroke her steamy center, she cried out, her head whipping back, hips arching forward. His fingers slid easily inside of her, feeling her heat, their combined wetness. He curled slightly upward, and she exploded. His arm surrendered her wrists to wrap around her waist, holding her to him even as he forced her higher, beckoned her to soar, coaxed her to trust.