by Snow, Nicole
Christmas music still pipes softly through the car. The man’s a fiend for holiday music, and I know he won’t give it up until late January.
Jordan jumps out ahead of us. I step out and hold the door open for Sabrina.
She makes no effort to move, looking at me with a raised eyebrow. “Shouldn’t I head home? I really have to work tomorrow.”
I hold my hand out for her.
Her fingers tangle up in mine so easily.
“Only if you want to,” I say.
She smiles at me and lets me help her out of the car.
As soon as we’re inside, Jordan goes to the guest room and comes out fifteen minutes later in pajama pants with fluorescent balls painted across them. “About tomorrow...Seth’s mom—he’s my friend that got the milkshake dumped on him for being dumb—usually takes me to school, but I don’t know if she’ll want to drive downtown to pick me up before we go back to Winnetka.”
His face is so serious. I wait for the next line.
Will he suggest he can’t go to school tomorrow? Or does he doubt I’ll get him there in one piece? With winter break over, it’s time for him to return, just like Marissa would’ve wanted.
“And?” I say, bracing for a rumble.
“I can’t miss tomorrow. I have a chemistry test,” he says.
I relax, putting my hand on his shoulder.
He doesn’t flinch or jerk away. Maybe, just maybe, his disdain for me is fading.
“I’ll take you to school tomorrow.”
“You?” He raises an eyebrow. “It’s almost an hour away and could be a lot longer in traffic.”
I laugh. “I know. I went to school there, remember?”
“But I thought time was money?” he asks.
“I’ve got plenty of both. I’m not really working while you’re here and we’re waiting on your mom to wake up,” I say.
Jordan looks at Brina skeptically.
“He’s making me do his job,” she says with a sassy face. “Big shoes to fill, but I’ll do it with heels.”
“That’s crazy. Whatever, then, if Mag doesn’t mind, I don’t either. Good night, guys.” Jordan says, flashing one last look over his shoulder before he retreats back to the guest room.
I chuckle once he’s out of the room, relieved there wasn’t another dustup.
“He thought I wouldn’t take him to school.”
“See how right I was?” Amusement dances in her gorgeous brown eyes. “I told you, once he got to know you, he’d warm up. You bonded over baseballs and robo-moles. Congrats.”
“What would I do without you?” Even though I roll my eyes at her, it’s too real a question. “Want a glass of wine? That’s the one thing missing with our pizza.”
“Sure.” She goes into the living room and lets out a dramatic sigh as she falls back on the couch.
“What was that about?” I ask.
“Just tired,” she whispers, yawning again.
I hit the kitchen to pour a glass of wine and something harder for myself—a scotch, maybe.
“Drink your wine,” I tell her once I’ve returned with our drinks. “It’s a nice sendoff to pleasant dreams.”
Her fingers curl around the stem of her glass.
“Thank you,” she says. “For everything this weekend, Mag.”
She pulls herself up, so she’s no longer reclining across the couch. Now she’s sitting up, sipping her wine, bringing back memories of that kiss I stole in Phoenix.
I drop to the couch beside her.
From the way her dark hair encases her ivory face to those big brown eyes, she’s beautiful.
Mind, body, and soul.
You’d have to gouge my eyes out to get them off her.
Brina’s eyes meet mine, too. Neither of us look away.
“What’s with the staring contest?” She laughs finally. “You’re freaking me out.”
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
“Funny, I don’t believe you.” She brings a hand to her face and pats her chin and both cheeks. “Do I have something in my teeth?”
“No, you’re just fucking ravishing.”
She melts on the spot, leaning forward and drawing in a deep breath. “Thank you. I’m not sure it’s true, but thanks, charmer.”
She finishes the wine, sets the glass on the table, and lays her head on my shoulder.
I move my scotch to the other hand and slip an arm around her.
No denying there’s something so cute and innocent about her tucked under my arm that my lips are drawn to her head. I plant a kiss in her hair, inhaling her scent, amazed at how sweet she still smells despite a long day at the hospital and that lively pizza shop.
She looks up slowly. Truffle-dark eyes gaze into mine.
Brina tilts her chin up like she’s waiting. Expecting. Needing.
“We shouldn’t be doing this.” I don’t break our shared gaze.
“Why?” Her brow furrows.
“We work together,” I say. “Whenever things get back to normal, we’ll have to explain—”
“Then don’t do it,” she whispers. She bites her bottom lip, reminding me how juicy it is.
“Tease.” I allow my lips to find hers.
The last thing I’m going to do tonight when I can savor her again is worry about office fucking code.
Her tongue traces my bottom lip, coaxing out my inner beast, and then it’s all liquid warmth in my mouth.
I swear to God, I could kiss her until the sun goes out.
I’m that addicted to Sabrina Bristol.
Cradling her face with one hand, I let my other hand catch in her hair, loving how different shades of soft brown flicker in the dim light.
Apparently, I’m not the only one getting a second wind.
She comes up on her knees and wraps her arms around my torso with such force, she pushes me backward. One knee swings over me.
Settling into my lap, her legs twine around my waist, fused to me. Her limbs are tied around me like fleshy ropes, and I can’t think of any damn place I’d rather be.
“Brina,” I growl, running my hand down her neck as she leans down for a kiss.
Her lips are on mine, the side of my face, running down my neck.
My dick shouldn’t even be functional after how hard we went at it the past two nights, but it’s back with a vengeance, stretching my trousers.
Every time the soft slick heat of her mouth runs over my skin, the ridge in my jeans she’s pressed against becomes harder, longer, more insistent.
God. I’ve wanted her the whole frigging day.
Why?
This isn’t the man who rarely comes back for seconds, much less tenths.
Fucking hell, I need her, and that smile digging into my lips tells me she knows it.
My arms close around her back, kneading my fingers into her.
She presses the core of her body over that ever-growing hardness, whimpering when she feels me.
“Oh,” she sighs.
I pull her closer. Her breath moves her body against mine. I lock her into place with my arms.
“Brina?” I whisper, letting out my own guttural sigh when she grinds into me again.
“Hmm?”
“You’re ready for the bedroom,” I say, digging my fingers into her angelic ass.
“Only if you promise to do evil things to me,” she whispers back, giving me another forceful peck.
This woman. I wonder which one of us will keel over first if this keeps going.
I move one arm away from her back, running a finger down her cheek.
“I don’t know about evil,” I growl. “What about slow? Tender? What if we let our souls do the fucking tonight?”
Slow? Tender? Who the hell have I turned into with these flowery words?
“Please take me to bed—I mean, your room,” she says.
My lips brush hers again, thick with sheer desire. Our tongues mingle, and I press her as tight to my chest as I can.
“What’s so
wrong with my bed?” I ask, giving her a wink.
“Nothing, I just didn’t want to say it. Your assistant, begging you to bed her...”
Leave it to my Brina to be completely blunt, and worried over nothing.
I laugh, kissing up her neck in a line that ends in a nip of teeth.
“Pretend I said it first because that’s where I want you. Badly.”
This time when she rocks into me, I arch up, grinding against her hot wetness through my pants.
“Oh,” she says. “Oh, God. Then let’s get moving. Fast.”
Placing both hands under her lush round ass, I stand with Brina still fused to me. Her legs lock around my waist, and she clings to me with her hands around my neck.
I carry her into my room and kick the door shut behind us. I lay her on the bed, planning to undress her like a late Christmas gift I want to savor.
Most years, Christmas is a flicker that’s quickly forgotten.
The one that just passed might have been the darkest yet, but there’s one present I know I’ll want to keep.
My plans are foiled when her hands frantically grab the bottom of my shirt, pull it over my head, and then drop to the button around my waist.
My slacks fall, and I shake them off my ankles, only to haul her up with a bristling hunger.
I need her fucking naked, right fucking now.
Her shirt flies across the room.
I’m about to lock my arms around her back and tear off her bra, but it’s too late. By the time I register the thought, she’s shed it, and it’s already airborne behind her.
I lock my lips over hers, claiming what’s mine, letting my hands roam the bare parts of her body. These fingers still want to memorize every inch, every ripple, every soft convulsion when they’re in her, feeling her come like a fever.
Sabrina pushes to her knees, works her panties off, drops them to the floor, and urges me on top of her.
“Not yet,” I whisper, holding back.
“Why?”
“You’re wearing too much.”
I slide my hands behind her back, unzip the skirt, yank it down, and toss it on the floor.
“Nothing between us. Not tonight.” I sound goddamned crazy, but then this whole thing breached sanity a long time ago.
I’ll plunder every last inch of her skin. I’ll worry about who I’ve turned into when it’s over, when Brina’s in my arms still trying to breathe, her sex-hair tickling my chest.
“How sweet,” she says, rolling her eyes playfully.
No. I’m anything but sweet right now.
Then again, I’m not going to argue about it when I could be slamming her into the mattress instead, making her shudder.
She wraps her legs around me, crawling them up my back.
Her warm, wet heat molds against the hard shaft, desperate to sink into her, to pump her full of me. She’s leaking on my cock and it’s driving me insane.
Still, I want something else first. I lower my lips to hers, caressing her tongue with mine.
She touches my face, runs a hand through my hair, and returns it to my face.
I match the long luxurious strokes of our tongues as I slide into her, a bestial rasp grinding out of me.
We go on like that forever, this standoff of desire.
Slow movements of our hips, intoxicating strokes of our tongues, until Brina pushes herself up into a bridge position and arches into my thrusts, engulfing every inch of me.
Fuck.
I match her pace, and then overtake it, reaching up to pull her hair. Her head snaps back for a proper conquest, and I sink my teeth into her bottom lip.
“Mag!” She hisses, the instant I let her go with an upward thrust of my cock.
There’s a glorious shock in her tone with volume I’m not sure I’ve heard before. But then, I’ve never had her sinking down on my cock, on top, nailing her silky walls from an angle bound to leave her undone.
“Hold on, sweetheart,” I whisper, pushing my forehead to hers, even fucking her eyes with my gaze. “We’re riding hard tonight.”
I’m a man of my word, clenching her ass, assisting her movements to sync perfectly with every frantic lunge of my dick. It doesn’t take long to shove her over the cliff, and I devour her lips when she comes, enjoying every wicked second.
Yes, we do slow and tender, but only with our lips.
Yes, I take her with the fury I swore, storming into her.
Yes, I do evil things.
I’m buried in my own madness watching her come the first time, and then the second a few minutes later, driving into her hard while I fist her hair and yank her head back. I hold her prone like she’s mine for life, making damn sure she tastes the man who’s making her come like July in January.
Shame that fucking Sabrina Bristol like tomorrow’s the apocalypse has its price.
I’m desperately close to the edge and trying to hang on, eager to steal a third bruising climax out of her.
Her body clenches around me, and she’s panting, scratching my neck and shoulders raw with her nails.
Keep it coming, kitten.
I’m not even that big a freak, but I’m so fucking gone for this woman, I don’t mind it one bit if she hurts me, if she scratches ribbons down my back as long as I’m exploding inside her so hard I see her eyes go white.
Thank fuck I’ve made my peace with it because I can’t hold back any longer.
Not when her hot cunt contracts a third time, wrapping around me like a puckered mouth, demanding every drop of heat and life and rage from my balls.
I explode inside her with a vicious grunt.
My spine turns into a fuse, and when the hellfire in my swollen dick hits my brain, I’m on a new high I never thought possible.
Of course, she’s right there with me.
Flinging herself up and down on me, over and over, stealing my heat, two warring storms of release like clashing lightning.
I can’t even remember what the hell I am by the time I shove her face into the nook of my neck, and we’re both gasping for dear life.
Once I catch my breath, I roll us onto our sides, flop down on the bed, and cradle her against me.
“One fine day, I’ll take you where I want to most,” I tell her.
“Oh? And where might that be?” Her curious little smile slays me.
“My desk. I might have to see if the insurance policy covers total loss by hurricane-force fuckery, but...”
She bursts out laughing, silencing my insanity with more sticky kisses.
We fall asleep together, drained and content.
I can’t remember the last time I slept with a woman in my arms.
Likely because it never happened.
A noise like a distant waterfall pulls me from a dead sleep. Brina steps out of my bathroom at four thirty sharp. She searches my floor for her clothes and starts getting dressed.
I stare at her perfect form.
“Go in later,” I say, still drugged with sleep. “And I’m getting you more clothes for here, dammit.”
“Can’t,” she says. “Airline pre-pitch meeting is this week, and I have to make you look good.”
I chuckle and swat at her cute little ass, missing in my groggy state.
“I admire your dedication, but you’ll be fine.”
“Maybe so, but what about Hugo and Dave from Sales?” She’s in her panties and bra, pulling her shirt on now. “Hey, you didn’t call Armstrong yet, did you? I think I want to Uber today.”
“No. I don’t like the idea of you in a car with a driver we don’t know,” I say. “It hasn’t been a week since Marissa was attacked.”
She pulls her skirt up.
“Marissa’s attack has nothing to do with me.” She bites her lip and sighs. “I’m—I don’t want Armstrong thinking I’m spending every night here.”
Her words hit me like cold water.
Shit. What will the others think when they catch wind of us? But I knew playing with fire only ends one way...
“Don’t worry. He won’t talk.”
She frowns at me. “I don’t think he would, but he’ll think I’m—”
“He doesn’t think shit, woman. He thinks you’re helping take care of Jordan because I told you to. And he’s right. Without you, the boy would still be starving on the couch.”
She smiles and walks over to the bed. She leans down and kisses me, this chaste peck that still makes me rock-hard.
I pull her back into bed with me and close my arms around her. “You’re waiting right here until Armstrong calls.”
“Joy. Lucky for you, there’s no place I’d rather be,” she says, smiling in the darkness.
I like the sound of that.
My throat tightens, and I wonder if she really is an angel disguised as my EA, and now something more.
I say nothing because I won’t have her thinking I’m a raving lunatic.
Instead, I just kiss her forehead, relishing every breath of this maddening woman I get.
* * *
Jordan hops out of the car, grabs his backpack—something he only has because Sabrina thought to tell Armstrong to fetch it from home—and scurries toward the academy’s column-flanked entrance.
I watch him disappear through the double doors.
“Take me to the office,” I say. “I can’t waste a whole day without making an appearance.”
“You’re the boss,” Armstrong says with a wink in the mirror. “I wondered when you were going back to the captain’s seat. Everything okay, Mr. Heron?”
“Yeah. But playing daddy—” I stop, frowning. I don’t like the sound of that. I’m thirty-one and no parent.
“Boss?” Armstrong glances back.
“Big brother, I mean—” I stop again. Big brothers don’t usually keep younger siblings indefinitely. I struggle to find the damn words. “Okay, playing brother’s keeper to a fourteen-year-old gets draining. I need normalcy, and showing up in person will keep the crew on their toes. I probably won’t stay the whole day. Someone has to be with Jordan after school, and we’re due at the hospital again this evening.”
“I can pick him up and drop him at your office, if you’d like?” Armstrong studies me in the mirror.
Do I really look so frayed?
“No, I’ll be along to pick him up, even if you’re doing the driving.” I’m not treating Jordan the way my old man treated me, like an annoying appendage of his life, tended to only by servants.
