Charming Co-Worker: Holiday RomCom Standalone

by Lauren Runow

  He looks up with gentle eyes. “She beat it, but it came back about four years ago. She’s in remission now. My father never misses an appointment and has been by her side every step of the way. It was the same when he had a heart attack ten years ago. She nursed him back to health and changed our entire family’s eating habits because of it. Coconut shrimp on Christmas Eve excluded.”

  I laugh at his joke and relax against the counter next to him.

  “Melissa and I are always on pins and needles, waiting for the next call that something’s happened to them. But not them,” he continues. “They spend each day carefree, living in the moment and making plans for tomorrow. For each other. I don’t know if their kind of love is unique, but seeing it firsthand just gives me a clear sense of what I want for my life.”

  I can feel my brows deepen as I take in his comment. “I thought you didn’t believe in love and romance?” I ask.

  “Not the way you do,” he says seriously, his eyes finding mine and holding my gaze. “What you want is a fairy tale. What I believe in is a nurturing kind of love. A selfless love. It doesn’t mean loving the other person more than you love yourself. It means loving that person enough that their happiness brings you happiness. Their joy brings you joy. And when you love, they love you back in equal measure.”

  His words make my heart swell, and then it shrinks just as fast. I know what love is. I’ve just never felt that way about another person.

  “Searching for that kind of love is like looking for a needle in a haystack in New York City,” I breathe.

  When he turns to me with that meaningful gaze, my breath is taken away. “Sometimes, you don’t have to look that hard.”

  I was wrong. Hunter is a romantic.

  He’s not a conventional romantic, in the hearts and flowers kind of way. Not in the carriage rides in the park or cheesy, overpriced dinners.

  He’s romantic when I least expect it.

  It’s in the way he makes me feel like the most important person in the room. Now, I know it’s not just a feeling. He really does look at me like that.

  It’s in the way he took me out for a drink that first night instead of going home with Janice from Accounting—or someone else for that matter. Instead, he came to my rescue when I was about to drown my sorrows.

  It’s in the way he showed up like a white knight at the shelter. He went above and beyond for those men, not wanting an ounce of thanks.

  It’s in the snow globe gift, so perfect and full of understanding.

  It’s in the ridiculous pair of socks that I am lucky enough to take home, which cherishes my worst quality.

  It’s in the way he looks my way to make sure I’m okay.

  It’s in his smile, his eyes, his deep breaths.

  My mouth parts, and my chest rises as Hunter lays a hand on my waist and pulls me in for a kiss. My hands find his arms, tugging him in as our tongues caress and lips grab hold of each other. The dizzying feeling taking over my body, straight down to my toes, shouldn’t surprise me.

  He leans back, inhaling a shaky breath as he moves my hair out of my face, asking, “Are you ready to call it a night? I’ll walk you to your bedroom.”

  I lean into his touch. “I thought I’d come to the pool house with you for a while.”

  So much is implied in my statement. Even more is said by the way his body tenses and his breath hitches, and then a sexy grin builds across his beautiful lips.

  Without another word, he takes my hand as we walk out the back door and down the lit path toward the pool house. The few steps we have to take from the house to where he slept last night are brief but freezing. Hunter and I move with rapid steps through the chill.

  When we enter the pool house, he flicks the lights on, and I see it’s much more than a house for changing into a bathing suit. There’s a game room with a pool table, indoor shower, and even a mini kitchen. What surprises me the most is the huge stone fireplace that sits at the far end of the room with a television above it.

  Hunter hits a button on the wall, and the blinds lower. He motions for me to take a seat on the large sectional in front of the fireplace.

  I kick off my boots and sit on the couch, watching as he kneels by the hearth.

  “You like your fires,” I say.

  “I like a girl who likes fires.” He grins, and my heart melts.

  Sitting in front of a fire is how I’ve spent the past two days with his family, and yet this is the first time I actually feel nervous. I’m not nervous because I’m afraid he’ll reject me or that things between us won’t go right. I’m nervous because I have a feeling it’s going to be sensational.

  I’ve never had sensational.

  As the log slowly catches fire, Hunter leans back and closes the screen. He turns to me, and my core clenches in anxious anticipation as he runs a hand along his tousled hair.

  He takes a thick fur blanket from the back of the couch and lays it down in front of the fire. There are several throw pillows on the sofa, which he lays down as well before reaching his hand out to me, asking me to join him.

  I rise from the couch and stand in front of him. The lights are dim, and the fire crackles next to us, casting a soft orange glow over his face. We stand next to each other. Me staring up into his darkened eyes and him with his head tilted down. His long, deft finger glides down the side of my neck, skimming across my décolletage and stopping at the base of my throat. It sends a shiver through my spine.

  His lips part as he lets out a breath, and I don’t miss how shaky it is.

  “Kiss me, Hunter,” I say with bated breath.

  He takes direction well. With his hand placed firmly on my hip, he pulls me in and lets his tongue sweep across my upper lip. His lips meet mine with the delicacy of an artist painting the first stroke of a masterpiece. I kiss him back, a willing muse, ready for my portrait to be complete.

  I moan into his touch, and he grips me harder, bringing my body closer to his. His arms are now holding me tightly as I raise mine to his shoulders, molding my breasts against his chest and feeling his growing erection against my core.

  The fire is burning beside us, but the one growing inside me is hotter, brighter. His kiss has a taste of adventure as he dives deep into my soul, making me free-fall into him. The zing in my chest rides the high, begging for more, needing him to explore me with his fervent mouth and wily hands.

  His embrace is like no other because he doesn’t just hold me physically. With every groan and murmur, I also feel his passion ooze through his mind and heart.

  Hunter’s hands strongly glide down the sides of my sweater dress, dancing at the hemline. I break our kiss, our foreheads pressed against each other’s, and I nod, throwing away my inhibitions and granting him permission to undress me. He takes it, lifting my dress up and over my head.

  He falls to his knees and hooks his fingers into my tights, slowly dragging them down my legs. I step out of them while looking at him. His eyes are trained on mine as he leans forward and presses the softest of kisses on my belly, just above the lace of my panties and the tiny bow.

  I quiver as he kisses me again, lower this time, placing the lightest of pressure just above my most sensitive spot.

  My teeth are pressing hard on my lip as he rises. My brows furrow at the sheer want I have for him to get back on those knees and kiss me there some more.

  He rises, looking dominant as he gazes at me like I’m his. Those caramel eyes melt as he stares at me while I stand here in lace, exposed yet not as naked as I wish to be.

  I step forward and undo the buttons of his dress shirt, pushing it over his shoulders, showing off his defined chest with a sprinkling of hair over the muscle. His skin is a deep golden color with cut muscles running down his stomach.

  When my hands are flat on his chest, a sharp breath escapes his mouth. I run my fingers over his pectorals, feeling every hardened plane and the light smattering of hair. He’s a real man. Not the princely type. No, this man is a king. A roguish k
ing.

  I continue my exploration of his body. The tattoo on his arm is larger than I imagined. An arrow shooting through a compass that’s facing north. It’s intricate and beautiful. Just like the man before me.

  He notices me ogling his body, and it must ignite the desire inside him because he wraps his hands around the nape of my neck, pulling me close and kissing me with wild abandon.

  The fire before us roars as I make quick work of removing his pants and bringing my body back against his. He’s only wearing boxer briefs, but from the feel of the steel against my core, I’d swear he was naked.

  I whimper when he runs a hand over my core. I dig my nails into his biceps, clinging to him for support. He nuzzles my neck as he continues moving his hand over the lace, making me desperate and needy. My heart is beating a million miles a minute. He brings his forehead to mine, moves the fabric of my panties over, and slides a finger deep inside me.

  “Fuck, that feels good,” I cry out, arching my back and letting my head fall.

  His devilish lips curl into a smile against my neck. “I want to bury myself inside you.”

  Hunter leads me to the floor, and I go willingly. My back is against the soft fur, but my front is covered in all man.

  His hand continues to touch me in the most wicked way as he places kisses on my chest, sucking on each breast through the fabric and then working his way further down, worshipping every inch of my skin.

  With each touch, I want him more.

  With each kiss, my body ignites.

  With each breath, I feel like I’m going to explode.

  “I need you inside me.”

  His hand halts. Those caramel eyes are carnal while the lines around them crease softly. He sits up and stares at me, his eyes raking up and down my body, making me feel gorgeous.

  “There are so many things I want to do to you. Suck that wet pussy of yours, is one. Have you ride my cock while we bathe in the light of the flames, is another.” That needy voice is gravelly as he speaks, “I’ve waited so long to touch you, and now that I am, I need it all. But first, I need to know that you’re ready.”

  I rise to my knees, push back my shoulders, and lift my chin, meeting him eye to eye. “I might have a wistful streak in me, but I know what it means to be a woman who wants a man. I want you, Hunter. I want every spontaneous, undisciplined, and impulsive inch of you. I want to taste the whiskey on your tongue and feel those mischievous hands on every inch of my skin.”

  His throat bobs with a hard swallow before his lips crash into mine with a fierceness of need that I’ve never felt from anyone.

  His fingers unhook my bra with well-trained precision. Our underwear is removed in an instant.

  His mouth is on my breast, sucking and biting my nipple, sending me into a frenzied excitement. My back is guided down to the blanket as his mouth continues its appraisal of every curve.

  As he takes in my naked body, I feel so alive. The emotions that cover his face when he looks up through hooded eyes give me so much courage to sit here, showing him all of me, knowing I’m his only desire.

  His mouth finds my core, and I lift my back off the blanket. My hands are in his hair, pulling at the thick ends as his tongue swirls around my clit. The heat of the fire burns my skin in the most delicious way. I’m bare naked and burning with lust.

  I’m loud as I cry out his name, covering my face with a pillow to hush my screams. He removes it and tosses the pillow across the room.

  “Be as loud as you need to, baby.” His words are quick before he’s back, licking and sucking, sending me into a swirl of eroticism as my body explodes.

  He moves up my body and kisses me swiftly. I can taste my arousal on his lips, and it makes me thirsty for more of him. I wrap my leg around his body, and his cock jolts against my opening. He rolls over and grabs a condom from his wallet, ripping it open and then sliding it on his thick length. He leans back down, kissing me until I’m completely breathless.

  When he nudges my legs open as he crawls between them, I gladly do as he asks, resting a foot against his backside.

  He pushes in, and my body doesn’t welcome him easily, as it’s been a long time since I’ve been with a man.

  “So tight,” he breathes as he gently rocks and coaxes his way inside.

  When he’s fully seated, he lets out a groan. My breath hitches, and my head falls back, but he keeps me in place, holding my head in his hand, making sure he can see me as he fills me again with one slow thrust.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss my lips as he matches the movement with his body.

  I wrap both legs around him as he entangles his hands with mine, bringing them above my head as he slides in and out.

  I moan into his mouth, and he uses it as more fuel to bring my core to a fire, burning so bright.

  I can’t catch my breath as he brings up his movements, sliding in and out with a rhythm that makes my knees weak and my eyes roll back in ecstasy.

  When he changes his movements down to an almost stop, moving in and out with such a slow pace that my body begins to beg for more, I almost can’t take it. I dig my heels into him, grinding against him more, searching for the relief my body is begging for.

  He growls into my ear before lifting to meet my lips, kissing me while he brings me to the absolute edge, pausing briefly before slamming into me one more time, pushing me off the wall of absolute bliss.

  “Hunter,” I scream out as I clench around his body in waves of convulsion.

  He moves, and I grip him tighter, feeling his release inside me as he grunts out his pleasure and drops his head to my shoulder.

  Our breathing labors as he slides in and out. My limbs go numb, and I drop back, not able to—or wanting to—move in any way. If I could, I’d bottle this feeling, sell it on every shelf in the world, and make millions.

  I never knew what it felt like to truly make love or what the difference would be between sex and love. Now, I know, and I never want to go back to anything else.

  Hunter rolls off of me but doesn’t lose his grip around me as he pulls me into his side, kissing my neck. “I don’t want you to leave,” he whispers.

  I entangle my fingers with his. “Good thing, because right here is exactly where I want to be.”

  Chapter Twelve

  We take our time in packing up, neither of us in a rush to get back to the city—and reality. Christmas at the Johnstones’ was pretty amazing. I’m even leaving with an arsenal of inappropriate jokes to use next year.

  Hunter’s hand is on my thigh as we head on I-95 toward the city. It hasn’t left its spot since he returned it after raising the volume on the radio forty minutes ago.

  My phone dings again in my purse, and I’ve been trying to ignore it, knowing whoever it is can wait until I’m home.

  “Someone’s popular today,” Hunter says, glancing at the floorboard of the car.

  “I was hoping it would stop if I ignored it.”

  “It could be your family.”

  “I spoke to them yesterday.”

  “That would sound like enough if you weren’t sitting with a man who talks to his mother every single day.”

  “Really?” I ask surprisingly. Although, now that I’ve met Nancy and seen their bond, I shouldn’t be surprised. “Fine …”

  He laughs as I finally give in and sit up to reach for my purse. I have two texts from Branson.

  Morning, love! I have a surprise for you!

  The New Year’s Eve gala. Call me to discuss.

  I place a hand on my tummy and wait for the usual reaction. Funny how, a week ago, when I saw Branson’s name on my screen, it gave me butterflies, but now, nothing.

  “Who was it?” Hunter asks.

  “Branson,” I say as I look out the window at the skyline of Manhattan that has now come into view.

  “Texting the day after Christmas? Technically, it’s still your day off.” His tone is clipped.

  I turn back to him and shr
ug. “He has some event that’s happening on New Year’s Eve. He’s just asking questions about it.”

  His brows rise to his forehead. “What event?”

  “It’s at the Rainbow Room, I think. I don’t remember all the details; that’s why I’m not texting back yet. I’ll look through my emails when I get home.”

  Hunter removes his hand from my thigh and rubs his jaw. “How come he’s asking you?”

  I tilt my head at him with a wry smile. “I’m his executive assistant, remember? I know his schedule better than he does.”

  There’s suddenly a thickness in the air as Hunter’s mood changes drastically. He grips the steering wheel as he picks up speed to get around a car in front of us. He seems impatient with the other drivers as he moves around them with a clenched jaw and focused eyes, even giving a few a honk to get out of the way.

  “Did that upset you?” I finally ask, putting it out there to clear the air. “I mean, does Branson texting me bother you?”

  He sits back a little, acting nonchalant. “He’s your boss. Whatever.”

  I try to decode his whatever comment. When I say it, that usually stands for hell yes, it pissed me off. Hunter, however, isn’t the beat around the bush kinda guy.

  When we get to my building, Hunter helps me get my bag out of the trunk. He’s acting like he’s fine, but there are no words coming out of his mouth, so I don’t know for sure.

  I’m not good at this part. When Hunter and I left his parents’ house, I was sure that we were a couple. Now, I’m not too sure, and damn me for not having the lady balls to just come out and ask.

  Yes, I’m that girl.

  Sue me.

  I grab my bag from him, holding it with both hands in front of me so I don’t feel so weird. “Thank you again for inviting me,” I say shyly.

  He takes a step closer, places his hand on my cheek, and says, “I’m glad you came.”

  When his lips meet mine, I breathe in the normalcy I felt when we were in Connecticut and fall into his touch once again.

  My mouth is pursed, ready for more of his kiss, but he pulls away.