Red-Hot Santa. Tori Carrington

before he changed his mind again.

      Then, finally, he was sheathed and sliding into her to the hilt.

      Max’s back came up off the bed and her lungs seized, refusing air, a dark, throbbing heat diving deep, taking hold of her, making her tremble. She didn’t think she’d ever known such a complete, utter connection with another human being. Until now. He filled her not only physically, but she felt inextricably joined with him in ways that transcended description.

      He moved and a moan ripped from her throat from an untouched place she didn’t recognize. It might have scared her if it were anyone else but Jax. But it was Jax. And he was all she’d ever need.

      JACKSON HADN’T FELT the need to come so fast since he was a teen groping one of the Pearson twins in the cab of Gram’s old Chevy truck.

      No, not even then …

      He took in the intoxicating expression of the woman under him thinking there was no way this could be his Max. Surely by now she should have batted him about the ears. Pushed him away and told him she was just joking.

      But it was Max, and he was about to lose it totally …

      Quick, what were the delay tactics he used to employ? Mentally disassembling his M-16 used to do the trick, but when he thought about his gun, all he could see was his thick shaft sinking into Max’s sweet flesh inch by inch.

      He grit his back teeth together and froze, his arms threatening to give out from under him where he held himself above her. Please don’t let her move, please don’t let her …

      She moved.

      Damn molten lava, he was going to lose it …

      He did.

      And there was absolutely no way he could disguise the fact that he did. The requisite groan, giveaway stiffness and telltale jerking filled out the picture, putting him solidly back in that truck cab.

      Only it wasn’t a Pearson twin he was with, it was Max.

      He collapsed against her, his face buried in the bedding over her shoulder, in a state of shock. Hell, she had to think him either a complete dork with no experience, or selfish beyond compare.

      He felt her hands on his back, then heard her quiet giggle in his ear.

      Jackson raised his brows as he slowly tested his arms and lifted himself back above her. Giggling? Max didn’t giggle.

      “Sorry,” he mumbled.

      Her smile was undeniable. “Don’t be. I’m flattered.”

      She rubbed her ankles against the back of his calves, causing her slick muscles to contract as she did so. “Now if you were drunk, it would be another story altogether.”

      Damn, but she was beautiful. The Max he knew, as well as the one he was coming—quiet literally—to know. Her sense of humor disarmed his horror at his quick draw … and her subtle shifting worked wonders on other areas of his anatomy.

      Testing himself, he slowly withdrew. But when she might have rolled out from under him, he replaced the condom and thrust back in to the hilt, satisfied at her gasp and the way she arched her back.

      He waited a moment for her to open her eyes. When she did, his grin was what greeted her.

      “What?” he asked, leaning in to kiss her. “You didn’t think that was all there was?”

      Her breasts trembled as he leaned in to take one of her pouty nipples into his mouth, then the other, swirling his tongue around the stiff nubs and then suckling them deeply, the control he was used to slipping gratefully back into place.

      Oh, yeah. Now he was back on track. He kissed Max breathless and then stroked her both inside and out. This time he fully planned to be thorough about bringing her to orgasm, again and again and again …