The Knight Before Chris Read online

  "And you found me?"

  Winter nodded as she placed another piece of tape over the bandage.

  "How did you know I went after you?"

  Winter shook her head as she put the bandages and tape back into the first aid kit. “I didn't,” she said. “At least, not at first. I was just a few feet away from my car when a toboggan came out of nowhere and mowed me down."

  "Oh shit."

  Winter grimaced. “Yeah, that's what I thought."

  When Winter was about to walk away, Chris grabbed her wrist. She turned to look down at him. “Were you hurt?"

  She pried her wrist out of his grip. “Do I look hurt? I was startled more than anything."

  "Why did you come back?"

  Winter shrugged and walked to the arm chair. “Well,” she said when she sat down, “I didn't have much choice. I figured the toboggan couldn't have made it down the hill alone and there was a chance you were hurt. I couldn't leave you to freeze to death while I went back to the city. So I headed back up to look for you. I rolled you onto the toboggan and brought you back. End of story."

  "I set out to save your life and you ended up saving mine,” he said softly. The irony wasn't lost on him.

  "Well,” Winter said as she rose from the armchair, “Let that be a lesson to you. I don't need to be saved."

  Chris sighed. “All right,” he said. “But why did you leave in the first place?"

  Winter's eyes pierced his. “It's four in the morning,” she said as she turned and walked to the bedroom door. “Get some sleep."

  Chris was clearly too tired to press her any farther. He closed his eyes.

  Winter pressed her back to the closed bedroom door and gave way to the tears which had threatened to spill for the past two hours. Every muscle and bone in her body ached, but none more than her heart.

  When the toboggan slammed against her legs, the suitcase she'd been lugging flew in one direction while she went in the other. After she climbed out of the snowbank she'd been hurled into and retrieved her suitcase, she saw the toboggan lying against the mostly buried front grill of her car.

  She knew Chris had found the note soon after she'd left the cabin and set out after her. Her heart was in her throat when she found his crumpled form. Relief coursed through her when she pressed her finger to his throat and felt a strong pulse.

  It had been no easy task to get him back to the cabin. The toboggan often gave way to his weight and sank into the deep snow. Yet the only stop she made to rest was when she finally got to the cabin door. And even then, the rest was short-lived before she dragged him off the toboggan, into the house and hoisted him onto the couch.

  It wasn't until she was cleaning the gash over his right eye that a heartbreaking thought occurred to her. How had she found the strength to get him to safety? She'd heard of such heroics before—the man who'd lifted a car off his son; the woman who fought a mountain lion to save her daughter.

  And then it dawned on her. She loved him.

  She was in love with Chris Donnelly!

  Winter sank to the floor as tears flowed freely. How could she have allowed this to happen? How could she have been so damn stupid?

  * * * *

  "Wake up, sleepyhead."

  Winter groaned as she opened her eyes. She saw Chris standing over her. “Go away,” she mumbled as she pulled the blankets over her head.

  "Not gonna happen,” he said cheerfully. “It's Christmas Day."

  "Big deal,” she said. “Do you have any idea how little sleep I've had?” she said when he pulled the blankets off her face.

  God, she'd cried for what seemed like hours before she finally pulled her aching body off the floor and crawled into bed.

  "Besides, both of us came to the cabin to avoid the holidays,” she added as she attempted to pull the blankets back over her.

  Chris chuckled as he tossed the blankets to the foot of the bed, well out of her reach. “True enough,” he said. “But since we're stuck with each other, we might as well enjoy it."

  "I don't care what you say,” she grumbled as she rolled onto her stomach and buried her head under a pillow. “I'm not getting out of bed."

  "Who said you had to get out of bed?"

  Winter peeked from beneath the pillow. “You did."

  Chris smiled. “No, I didn't,” he said. “I just said you had to wake up."

  Winter regarded him warily. “What's your game, Donnellly?"

  Chris held a bottle of baby oil up for her to see. “I found this under the sink in the bathroom,” he said. “Merry Christmas."

  She frowned as she reached for the bottle. “Well, gee, thanks. No one's ever given me an old bottle of baby oil for Christmas before."

  Chris chuckled and held the bottle out of her reach. His eyes twinkled wickedly. God, she loved his eyes, so expressive, so mischievous. All he had to do was look at her and her body reacted with passionate need. “I'm giving you a full body massage for Christmas."

  She hated how the promise of his touch turned her to jelly. She hated how she could so quickly forget their problems the moment he smiled at her. She hated how much she needed him.

  Winter closed her eyes and tried to summon the voice of reason. You're the lawyer who helped his ex-wife screw him out of everything he ever worked for. The voice of unreason quickly stepped up to the plate. So what? You were doing your job. Reason spoke again. But you're not working now and you're keeping what you know from this man. He deserves to know the truth.

  Chris broke into her thoughts. “Take your clothes off, Winter. I want to run my hands all over you."

  The voice of unreason laughed victoriously as she quickly pulled her clothes off. I win this round. Reason quickly replied, That's all well and good. I'll still be here when you come up for air and you'll only feel worse about what you're doing.

  The voices in her head quickly disappeared when Chris’ oiled hands slid over her back. “Mmmm.” Her body hummed as his fingers curled over her shoulder blades.

  "I thought your muscles might be aching after what you went through last night,” Chris said, his voice soft and soothing.

  "They are,” Winter said, barely able to keep from sighing as his fingers worked the knotted muscles at her neck.

  "I still can't get my mind around the strength you found last night,” Chris said as his fingers slowly slid down her back. “I imagine your legs are feeling it, too."

  Winter moaned when his fingers slid over the back of her legs and gently pushed against her aching muscles. She groaned. “That feels wonderful."

  "Shut up and let me do my job,” he said as he continued to work the muscles in her calves.

  Winter was quite content to do just that as Chris’ deft fingers slowly worked the baby oil into her tight muscles. He covered every inch of her body, from gently rolling her toes in his fingers to slowly pressing against the aching muscles in her neck.

  "Roll over."

  Winter sighed and did as she was told. She kept her eyes closed as his fingers gently kneaded her shoulders and slid over her breasts to her abdomen, her hips and then moved down her legs, working every muscle until the pain eased away. His slick fingers gently moved back up her body and circled her breasts.

  Winter's body warmed as his fingers gently massaged her breasts.

  "Do you like that?” he asked softly.

  "Mmm, yes."

  "And what about this?” He pinched her erect nipples between his fingers and rolled them.

  "I like that, too,” she said.

  "I love your breasts,” he whispered. “Soft, yet firm. They fit in my hands perfectly."

  As one hand continued to massage her breasts, the other spread her thighs. “And I love your thighs. They feel like silk."

  He crawled onto the bed and sat on his knees between her legs. His hand slid over her stomach to the tuft of hair between her thighs. “But I love your pussy the most,” he said as his fingers slid over her and slipped over the slick warmth. “I love how tight it i
s, the way it holds my cock when I'm fucking you."

  Winter gasped and raised her hips off the bed to greet his fingers as they hovered over her moist chasm, silently begging him to follow through with the erotic promise his fingers made.

  Chris pressed his fingers against her, slowly circling the opening. “Do you want me to finger fuck you?"

  "Yes,” she cried as she bucked against his hand.

  Chris leaned over her and planted a lusty kiss on her lips. She opened her eyes to see him smiling down at her. “I will,” he said. “But I want to feast on your pussy first."

  Winter's breath caught in her throat when he moved down her body and positioned himself between her legs. His eyes darkened as he placed his hands on either side of her and pulled her pussy open with his fingers. She gasped when he dipped his head and stroked over her clitoris with his tongue. “Mmmm,” he said, his breath hot against her core. “The best Christmas breakfast I've ever tasted."

  The chuckle Winter felt bubble in her chest was quickly replaced with a moan when Chris returned to the task at hand. The bandage on his forehead pressed into her sensitive skin as his fingers pulled the lips of her pussy wider apart. She cried out when his tongue slid from her clitoris to her slit. He curled his tongue and pushed it into her.

  Winter's hands flew to his shoulders. Her fingers curled into the soft fabric of his shirt as he pressed his tongue inside her and slowly pulled it out. Her hips bucked against his face as every stroke brought her closer to an explosive orgasm.

  "Chris!” she wailed, her body convulsing in sweet ecstasy, barely able to keep herself from going over the brink of sanity.

  Chris moved upward and formed a seal over her clitoris with his lips. His tongue stroked as he sucked. He pressed two fingers inside her, pushing as far as his hand would allow, stroking her delicate folds as his mouth continued the assault on her clit.

  "Oh God!” Winter cried as she buried her fingers in his hair. She knew she couldn't handle much more, yet she felt powerless to stop him.

  Chris rose and gazed at her when he pushed a third finger inside her. His thumb pressed against her clit as he smiled at her. “Let it happen, babe,” he urged. “Don't fight it."

  Winter screamed as the world around her whirled and the orgasm wracked her body with torturous convulsions.

  As she lay panting on the bed, she pried her eyes open to find Chris still sitting on his knees between her legs, a bright smile on his face, his eyes twinkling in satisfaction. She raised her head slightly and attempted to return the smile.

  "Merry Christmas, Winter Knight,” Chris said.

  Winter attempted a gentle chuckle but her body was too depleted to respond. She let her head fall back onto the pillow as she continued to gasp for air.

  Chapter 8

  Chris whistled softly as he set the table for dinner. He'd had the generator running all day to cook the small turkey in the oven and prepare the rest of the Christmas feast.

  As Winter showered and dressed, Chris checked the vegetables steaming on the stove and whipped the potatoes.

  "Can I help?"

  Chris turned to see Winter just inside the kitchen door. She looked positively radiant. Her skin glowed in spite of the fact she was devoid of makeup. That's what good loving did for a woman, he thought as he smiled back at her. “There isn't much to do,” he said. “I think I've got everything under control."

  Winter walked toward the stove. She opened the oven door and inhaled. “Smells glorious,” she said.

  The turkey wasn't the only thing that smelled glorious. Winter's fragrant skin filled his senses and reminded him that he'd abandoned their bed without finding his own satisfaction earlier today. His cock ached to bury itself inside her, to take every bit she had to give him and demand more.

  The time would arrive soon. Just as soon as they had dinner, he fully intended to extract a very special Christmas gift from her, one that would leave both of them breathless.

  Winter closed the oven and peered into the pans on the stove. She uncovered the corn, then the mixed vegetables and stopped when she looked into the last pan. She looked at him in surprise as she replaced the lid. “You made gravy?"

  Chris grinned. He reached for an open can on the counter and held it up. “Yep,” he replied. “With a little help from,” he turned his gaze to the can to read the label, “Mrs. Green's Canning Company."

  Winter's sweet laugh wrapped around him as he grinned back at her. God, he loved the sound of her laugh. He loved her voice, too, and the way she moved ... and those incredible deep blue eyes and damn, her delectable body. In fact, he wasn't sure what he didn't love about her ... well, other than her fucking job, anyway.

  Love? Did he just attempt to find something he didn't love about Winter Knight?

  Chris felt as though someone had just sucker punched him. Whoa, boy, hold up! What the hell am I thinking? There's no way I can love Winter. After all, look at what she'd had a hand in doing to me!

  "Chris, are you okay?"

  Chris shook the thoughts from his head and realized Winter was standing in front of him, a hand on his chest as she peered up at him anxiously.

  Chris took a step back and shook his head. “Yeah, I'm fine,” he said.

  "Are you sure?” she pressed. “For a minute there, you looked like you were about to faint."

  Chris snorted.

  "Well okay, maybe not faint,” Winter conceded. “But you were as white as a ghost. Maybe it's a delayed reaction to your head injury."

  When Winter reached for the bandage on his brow, he quickly pushed her hand away. The last thing he wanted was for her to touch him. “I'm just hungry,” he said. “Help me get dinner on the table so we can eat."

  * * * *

  After dinner was put on the table, Chris shut the generator down, explaining they needed to conserve as much gas as possible. The light from the hearth coupled with the candles on the table lent a romantic glow to the evening.

  Yet Chris seemed distracted all through dinner. He chatted with her but was preoccupied, as though something was bothering him.

  "This is a wonderful meal,” she said as she speared the last of the gravy-soaked turkey on her plate.

  "I'm glad you like it,” he replied.

  Winter cast her gaze toward the window. “Looks like the snow has stopped."

  "Yeah,” Chris replied. “It stopped early this morning while you were still asleep."

  Winter placed her fork beside her plate and peered across the table at Chris. “If the storm is over, it won't be long before the roads are plowed."

  Chris sipped his wine. “I guess so."

  Winter's heart ached. Their time together was limited. Perhaps as soon as morning, they'd have no reason to stay here at the cabin any longer.

  Guilt weighed heavy on her soul. She knew she had to tell Chris the truth soon. He had the right to know and the sooner she got up the nerve to tell him, the better.

  As they cleared the table, Winter struggled to find the words. Nothing would come to her. After everything she'd put him through the past two years, how could she tell him she'd been wrong all along?

  When the table was cleared, Chris walked passed her and sat on the sofa. She peered at him. Hell, what good could come of telling him anyway? Wouldn't knowing the truth only add salt to his already festering wounds?

  And what about her? Little by little, inch by inch, Chris had gained respect for her. She knew they had no future together but did she want to ruin what time they had left by telling him the truth?

  Already her body longed for his touch. The idea of never feeling his skin against hers again made her ache for him.

  She did have to tell him the truth, if only for her own good. But there was no harm in delaying it for just a bit longer. She'd tell him the truth tomorrow. Tonight, she wanted him ... needed him like she never had anyone before.

  Winter took a deep breath and walked to the hearth. She turned and gazed down at Chris as he sat on the sofa. His trou
bled glance connected with hers.

  "I know there's something bothering you. There are things bothering me too,” she said softly as her fingers gripped the hem of her sweater. “But this is Christmas. Reality will come crashing down on us soon enough. So for tonight, no problems exist.” She whisked the sweater over her head and tossed it aside. Her eyes darkened as she unzipped her jeans. Her fingers snagged her silk underwear as she pushed the jeans over her hips and kicked them aside. “Tonight,” she continued, “there's just you and me,” her hands cupped her breasts as his gaze smoldered over her, “and all kinds of possibilities."

  "Possiblities?” Chris asked. “Do tell,” he said as he watched her sachet toward him.

  Winter stopped in front of him and leaned down. Her fingers curled under the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. “I'm more than happy to share what possibilities there are,” she said as she cast his sweater aside. “But,” she said as she sank to her knees, “I'd much rather show you."

  When Winter unzipped his jeans, he raised his hips to allow her to pull them, and his briefs, off his body. She tossed them aside blindly as her gaze focused on his hardened need.

  Breath hissed from his lungs as her fingers curled around his penis. “I love your cock,” she said as she leaned down, nuzzling it with her cheek. “It's so hard and demanding but the skin is so soft.” Her fingers slid over him to the base. “And I love how you fill my hands when I hold you."

  His eyes twinkled lightly as she gazed up at him. “So size really does matter, huh?"

  Winter grinned but didn't reply. There were some things a woman didn't divulge, no matter how turned on she was. Size was one of them. This was probably their last night together, so she didn't want to cast doubts or shatter any of his illusions.

  Instead, she dipped her mouth over his girth. Her lips slipped over the throbbing head of his penis and slowly slid over the shaft.

  Chris moaned softly as Winter's teeth grazed the soft flesh of his firm cock. “God, that's so good,” he said as he allowed her full access to him.

  Winter's fingers wrapped around the base of his cock and slowly pumped as her tongue laved and sucked him. She pulled away and gazed up at him. “Is that good?” she asked innocently, knowing his answer before he replied.