Winter Fire: A Red Hot Winter Story Read Free Page A

couch. The giant, wooden sleigh bed, covered with snow-white linens, overlooked a wall of windows. The sunset outside cast a pinkish-orange glow over the trees and mountains.
    The chalet was identical to hers, only a mirror image.
    “You have a choice,” he said as he kicked the door closed behind them. “I can spread a blanket on the floor beside the fire, and we can do this the slow romantic way.” His eyes gleamed with desire, with a fire hotter than the one across the room.
    Her heart picked up speed. “Or?”
    He kicked off his shoes. “Or I can toss you on the bed and fuck you until we both pass out.”
    She slung her jacket over the couch. As if there was a choice. Sensual, dreamy and romantic, or hot, hard and ruthless. “Option two.” Dreamy and romantic were stored away for Jackson.
    His lips twitched. “I had you picked for the heated-kisses option.”
    “And I had you picked as a model. Apparently we were both wrong. Now you gonna keep talking, or you gonna fuck me until we both pass out?” Oh, yeah, when she met Jackson tomorrow, the last thing on her mind would be jumping him. She intended to fully satisfy herself on the delicious man before her.
    His T-shirt was off before she finished the question. “Option two.” His smile scorched her all the way through to her bones.
    She stared at him, dumbstruck. With his shirt on he was beautiful. Without it, he was panty-wetting, tongue-drooling gorgeous. Sex on legs.
    Her hands shook as she unbuttoned her cardigan and let it drop to the floor.
    “Bed?” he rumbled.
    “Lead the way,” she concurred and pulled her shirt over her shoulders.
    Garreth fiddled with his button and seconds later his jeans gaped open. Rachel forgot to breathe.
    He tugged at her thermal silk undershirt. “Any more layers I should know about?”
    “Just two.”
    He shook his head. “No blizzards in Australia.”
    “I told you, I hate the cold.” She lifted her arms and let him dispose of the silk.
    His thumbs grazed over her covered nipples, making her tremble. They beaded instantly.
    “Too many clothes,” he grumbled, and the cami she wore disappeared.
    He gazed hungrily at her bra-clad breasts. “God, you’re beautiful.”
    “Look closer,” she urged, and reached back to dispose of the black satin-and-lace bra. Her breasts sprung free, feeling heavier than usual under the close scrutiny of those emerald green eyes.
    “Jesus, fuck,” he swore hoarsely, and then she was in his arms, pressed against the glorious wall of his muscular chest.
    His full, lush lips took hers in a blistering kiss. A kiss so wicked it shook her very foundations. It burned off the cold, replacing it with a fierce heat that seared her from her mouth right through to her feminine core.
    He tasted of scotch and man and sex—every bit as scrumptious as she’d anticipated.
    Better.
    She tunneled her fingers through his hair, holding his head close, molding her lips to his, pushing her body against his.
    Ah, that erection. It felt good against her belly. A solid mass pressing into her softer flesh. She wanted it in her hand. In her mouth. Fuck, who was she kidding? She wanted it buried in her pussy. And in her ass. Hell, she just wanted it inside her.
    She slipped her hand inside his open jeans and cupped it over his cock.
    He moaned into her mouth, rocking against her hand.
    Or maybe that was her moaning. He was thicker than she expected. And harder. She struggled to find breath. If he felt so good in her palm, covered by his boxers, how would he feel driving into her pussy?
    Garreth broke the kiss to kick off his jeans and boxers. Toned, muscular legs were revealed inch by endless inch. His freed cock jumped up, slapping against his stomach.
    “Yours too,” he said as his boxers hit the floor. “Take ’em off.”
    She shook her head. “Can’t. Sorry. My hands are full.”
    “Yeah? Of what?”
    “You.” She wrapped one hand around his shaft, closing it around the silken steel of his