Christmas at Eden Manor Read online

  After a few minutes, his body began to tense beneath her more palpably, and she felt his erection growing against her, matching her own deepening arousal. He tore his mouth away and grabbed the fabric of her gown so he could pull it over her head. She was wearing nothing underneath.

  She was both thrilled and self-conscious at the heat and possessiveness in his eyes as he stared at her naked body. Before she could think of anything witty or ironic to say to break the tension, he lifted her up by the waist until he could take one of her breasts in his mouth.

  She moaned as he teased her into hotter, wetter arousal. His mouth and tongue were skillful, and Brie already felt overly sensitized to every one of his touches. When his fondling became delicious torture, she pulled away and yanked down his pajama pants.

  His erection freed, she took him in both hands, loving the feel of him, this evidence of his wanting her so much. She stroked him with her thumbs—then rubbed her palm in small circles over the head of his shaft. He jerked at her first touch and then made the sexiest, guttural sound she’d ever heard.

  After a minute, he pulled her hands away by the wrist and reached over to the nightstand to grab a condom, where she’d put the extras from her bag last night. When he’d rolled it on, he silently positioned her above him, and she exhaled with pleasure as she sank down to sheathe him with her body.

  He reached out to gather her into another deep kiss as she began to rock slowly. The rhythm of their kiss soon matched the rhythm of their bodies, and Brie was shocked that something so simple, a motion so gentle, could bring her to orgasm so quickly.

  But after only a few minutes, her muscles started to tense, and she grew very tight around his penetration. She dropped her head back, breaking off the kiss at last. She panted out with silly huffs of effort and pleasure as she rode Cyrus more urgently.

  She felt his eyes on her—still hot and possessive—as she bounced on his lap until the tension at her center finally unleashed. She bit off her cry of release as the spasms of sensation pulsed through her, and then she slumped forward toward his chest.

  His hands slid up from her bare hips to wrap around her back. He kissed her again, hungry and almost clumsy as his steady rocking beneath her shifted to faster, harder bucks of his hips. Her intimate muscles were exquisitely tight, exquisitely sensitive after her climax. And she could feel him moving inside her, could hear the shameless, wet sounds from the connection of their flesh.

  Panting against his mouth, Brie squeezed a hand down between their bodies until she could rub her clit. She whimpered at the resulting sensations, and Cyrus groaned into the kiss as her muscles contracted even more around him.

  She rubbed herself hard and followed Cyrus’s rhythm as he bucked up into her from below. He soon fell out of rhythm, and his body clenched like a fist. Then he came in a series of jerks and long, thick grunts. Brie massaged her clit as frantically as she could, pushing herself into climax again at the very last moment.

  They’d lost the kiss when they came, although their mouths were still so close they bumped against each other as their bodies convulsed. Brie bit her lower lip to stifle the scream her body demanded, so the sound of her release came out as a childish mew.

  She collapsed on Cyrus, who was still propped up on the pillows. Sated and exhausted, she panted against his neck and tried not to think about the fact that she’d never see him again after tomorrow.

  Cyrus held her for a few moments, but then he nudged at her gently so he could pull out and take care of the condom.

  She stifled her groan of reluctance as she rolled off him. They hadn’t spoken since their first kiss.

  He disposed of the condom and then came back to bed, giving her a pleased, warm look. “I wasn’t expecting that this morning.”

  A burst of laughter broke out of her. “Honestly, I wasn’t either.”

  He took her into his arms so she was leaning against him. “What do you want to do today?”

  She smiled against his chest. “I don’t know.”

  “I need to have tea with my sister this afternoon. She’ll be expecting me.”

  “That’s fine. I’m sure I can amuse myself for a couple of hours.”

  “I don’t actually like spending those hours away from you. We have so little time as it is.” He pressed a light kiss into her hair.

  She kept herself relaxed, despite the sudden clench in her gut.

  She hated the thought of the end of the week.

  “It will just be a couple of hours,” she finally murmured. “I don’t want you to neglect your sister.”

  He tilted her head up toward him, searching her face for a few moments. Then he kissed her on the mouth and got out of bed. “I’m going to take a shower. You can think about how you’d like to spend the day while I’m gone.”

  She smiled at him. “Good plan.”

  Cyrus got up and went into the bathroom. She heard the shower turn on, and she stretched out under the covers, enjoying the aftermath of her orgasms and the lazy thrill of lying in bed in the morning without having any particular reason to get up.

  She wasn’t—wasn’t—going to think about the end of their week together, coming up very soon now.

  When the shower turned off, though, she managed to pull her gown over her head again and then heave herself out of the bed. She kind of had to pee, and a shower would be nice.

  She padded over to the mirror above the dresser and actually gave a little shriek at what she saw.

  Cyrus stuck his head out of the bathroom. “What’s the matter?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me my hair looked this bad?” she demanded, horrified by the image in the mirror. Her cheeks were bright red, and she had a sheen of perspiration on her skin. Her breasts looked a little too jiggly without the support of a bra. But all that wasn’t too bad, just the natural result of sex and being undressed.

  But her hair. Her hair.

  She’d gone to bed with it still damp, always a bad idea. It had snarled and kinked during the night so it stuck out all over in unattractive flips, waves, and tangles. She was mortified to think she’d just had sex with Cyrus looking like this.

  “What?” he said, his lips twitching in a familiar way. “I thought it looked nice.”

  She tried to huff, but it came out as more of a squeak. She’d felt so sexy earlier. And the way he’d been looking at her had made her feel almost beautiful. But she’d actually looked like this. “That’s what you were laughing at when you first saw me this morning!”

  “Certainly not.”

  “Liar!” She whimpered a little and tried to smooth her tangles down. Her hands did absolutely no good. “I knew you were laughing at me. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Cyrus laughed and came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He slid an arm around her from behind and leaned over to nuzzle her hair. “Sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Why would I laugh at that?”

  She didn’t believe him, but she felt a little bit better.

  ***

  The following day, late in the afternoon, Brie sat with Cyrus on a bench on Tybee Island, looking out into the ocean.

  The past two days had been wonderful. The day before, they’d explored Savannah, discovering a couple of small, historic churches that neither of them had seen before. Then today they’d driven out to Tybee Island and had a lovely time walking around and eating seafood. They’d had sex again last night in Cyrus’s bed—slow and tender and gentle, lasting longer than Brie had even known lovemaking could last. They hadn’t this morning, but the time they’d spent together had meant a lot more to her than a weekend of non-stop sex ever could have.

  But they were nearing the end of Sunday afternoon. And Cyrus was leaving town tomorrow.

  The week was just about over.

  Despite her constant reminders that this time was only temporary, she still wanted to cry at the thought.

  Cyrus hadn’t said a word for twenty minutes, and she wondered if he felt the way she did—sad
and kind of heavy in the belly. She’d been leaning against him, her cheek resting on the side of his chest, but she lifted her head to check his expression.

  He looked quiet and grave. When he met her eyes, she saw a matching emotion.

  He didn’t want the week to end either.

  Just then, they were both distracted by a voice approaching them. A hassled woman had a little boy tightly by the hand and was half dragging him toward the bench beside them. “Since you can’t seem to behave,” the woman said in an exasperated voice, “and you don’t want to be nice to your sisters, you can sit on a bench by yourself and sulk.”

  The boy’s face was mulish as he sat down hard. Brie saw what must be his family sitting on a blanket nearby, happily looking at maps and brochures.

  “Poor little fellow,” Brie whispered. “He probably thinks Savannah is a terrible place to spend his vacation.”

  Cyrus’s eyes had been resting on the boy—who looked lonely and miserable. But at her words, he murmured, “Yes. I’m not sure a boy his age would know how to appreciate it.”

  “Not like we do.” Her words returned them to their previous, slightly poignant mood. She gave Cyrus an ironic half smile. “It’s already Sunday.”

  “I know.” His arm around her shoulders tightened a little, and he stared blankly out at the ocean.

  They’d only had a week. They’d both known that going into this. Brie was not going to complain or feel sorry for herself. She doubted Cyrus would have let her get as close to him as he had if there had been any possibility of a future.

  Then Cyrus blurted out, “Maybe we should change our terms.”

  She gasped, a flicker of hope she’d never allowed coming alive in her heart.

  Maybe he felt the way she did. Maybe he was starting to think that there was too much potential between them to let it end after just a week.

  Maybe he wanted a real relationship—the way she had to admit she did.

  Maybe it wasn’t as impossible as she’d believed.

  “What terms?” she asked breathlessly, straightening up so she could look at him.

  He looked momentarily uncomfortable, as if he couldn’t believe he’d just said what he’d said. But then he explained, “Christmas isn’t for another week. I don’t actually have to leave Savannah quite yet.” He cleared his throat. “What if I stay in town a few more days? Would you… would you be amenable to that idea?”

  Her racing heart dropped painfully.

  He didn’t want a relationship. He just wanted to make the week a little bit longer.

  Had he suggested such a thing even that morning, she would have said yes without hesitation. She would love to have a few more days with him.

  But her reaction just now really scared her. If she was so far gone right now—so desperately wanting more from him, despite her attempts not to—then how would she feel a few days from now when they still would have to say good-bye.

  Cyrus must have read her expression and her hesitation. “You don’t want me to stay,” he murmured.

  Her eyes shot up to his face, and she saw disappointment and something like pain there. She’d hurt him. She hated the idea of it.

  But this was getting more and more dangerous for her.

  “I do want you to stay,” she said, her tone slightly wobbly from the confusion of her feelings. “I would love to spend a few more days with you. I’m just… I’m just wondering if it’s wise.”

  She used his words from the day last week when they’d discussed their original terms since they were the only ones she could come up with.

  He let out a breath and looked out toward the ocean. “It’s not wise. Of course it’s not.”

  “I’m not saying no,” she said, leaning against him again. “I just… don’t know.”

  “Think about it,” Cyrus said mildly after a long moment. “You can tell me this evening.”

  Brie’s eyes darted over to his face, and she knew she’d hurt his feelings by not responding to his offer with enthusiasm. She felt guilty and confused and tempted and torn and absolutely terrified. “Okay,” she managed to say. “I’ll think about it.”

  Then, when she couldn’t stand the awkwardness, she added, “I’m going over to that tourist shop behind us and buy some trinkets for Christmas gifts. I’ll be back in ten or fifteen minutes.”

  Cyrus nodded. “I’ll be here.” He didn’t offer to join her. He obviously knew she was trying to get away for a little while.

  She hurried toward the shop, which was in the strip of stores farther up toward the street. She glanced back at Cyrus before she entered and could only see him from behind. But even his shoulders and the back of his head looked stiff and tense.

  With a twisting of her gut, she made herself turn away. She went into the store and stood staring at T-shirts and mugs. But after two minutes, she let out a thick sigh and started back to Cyrus.

  She shouldn’t have run away. She still didn’t know what to do, but leaving him wasn’t the way to find out answers.

  Brie had expected to find him stewing over her desertion, so she halted in surprise when she saw he was talking to the boy on the bench next to his.

  He hadn’t seen her since she was behind him. Intrigued, Brie approached quietly so she could hear what they were discussing.

  “It’s dumb,” the little boy said. “I’m sick of boring nature and stupid old buildings. We can’t even really go to the beach and get in the water because my mom says it too cold.”

  “There are a lot of old buildings around here, aren’t there?” Cyrus said, his voice mild and casual. “Can’t blame you for getting tired of them.”

  “I wanted to go to Disney World,” the boy said, glaring over at the rest of his family.

  “What did you want to do there?”

  Brie felt oddly touched at hearing this conversation between sophisticated, guarded Cyrus and a sulky little boy. Still shamelessly eavesdropping, she waited to hear what they would say next.

  “I wanted to go on a new ride that has sword fighting and everything.” The boy swung his arm back and forth as if he were trying to fence with an invisible sword. “Greg, my friend, said it was so cool. He got to go during the summer.”

  “And you came here instead,” Cyrus said, a sympathetic note in his voice. “There was a lot of fighting here too,” he added almost indifferently. “A long time ago.”

  The boy gave him a suspicious look. “What do you mean fighting?”

  “When the Union armies came through and laid siege to Fort Pulaski, over that way. Then later they burned down a lot of the old buildings.”

  The boy blinked at this blunt statement, but his lips parted slightly with interest. “They burned down the stupid old buildings?”

  Cyrus nodded sagely. “That’s what armies do.”

  “What kind of armies?”

  Cyrus started to tell the boy about the siege of Fort Pulaski and Savannah. He had an impressive knowledge of the history, and he informed the boy of numbers, weapons, and a number of rather gruesome incidents that made even Brie raise her eyebrows.

  The boy’s eyes grew wider and wider with growing interest, and he finally said, “Wow.”

  “When you leave here, be sure to look for Fort Pulaski.”

  Brie looked at the boy’s face. It was no longer remotely sulky. Then she looked back at Cyrus’s profile. His expression was bland and matter-of-fact, but she had the ridiculous urge to cover his face with kisses.

  She put her hand on her breastbone, on a little clench there that had started to ache. And she understood something. Despite her fear, despite the inevitable risk to her heart, she was going to agree to his new terms.

  Because there was no way she’d be able to let Cyrus leave tomorrow morning.

  ***

  When they got back to the house, Brie had to go to the bathroom.

  The trip back had been quiet. Not awkward exactly but quiet and almost tired. Brie hadn’t known exactly how to tell Cyrus she wanted to extend t
heir time a few more days, and he’d made a point of changing the subject when she rejoined him on the bench. So when they returned from their trip to Tybee Island, Cyrus still didn’t know she’d made up her mind.

  She went to find him after she finished in the bathroom, realizing it was silly not to let him know her decision—merely because she was a little embarrassed at having come to the conclusion so quickly, so surely, as she’d watched him talk to the boy.

  Hearing voices down the hall, she followed them to Cyrus’s office.

  “Do I need to arrange for the car tomorrow morning?” Gordon was asking.

  There was a pause from the office, where Cyrus stood beyond the range of her vision. “I don’t know.”

  “You haven’t yet offered her an alternative?”

  Brie almost smiled at the mild disapproval in Gordon’s voice—as if he was discreetly chiding his employer for not stepping up the way he was expected to.

  The knowledge that Cyrus had stepped up, that he’d blurted out the idea of his staying longer so sincerely, pushed Brie into action.

  Seeing her approach, Gordon stepped out of the way so Brie could enter the office. “No need for the car tomorrow morning,” she said softly. She saw Cyrus’s expression change as she approached him. “I’d like you to stay a little longer if you still want to.”

  A little spark alit in Cyrus’s eyes, although his face remained composed. “You’re sure?”

  Brie nodded. “I’ve got nothing to do until Christmas anyway.”

  “Very good,” Gordon murmured. He appeared to be hiding a smile. “I will arrange for dinner tonight. Around seven?”

  “Yes. Thank you.” Cyrus’s eyes hadn’t left Brie’s.

  When Gordon had left the room, Cyrus pulled her closer to him, draping his arms around her waist. “How long do you want me to stay?”

  She assumed he’d be rather flabbergasted if she told him the truth—that she wanted him to never leave. So she just smiled and said, “As long as you can.”