by Jax Hart
“He’s nice.”
“Fuck nice. You’re a girl who needs naughty.” With one last, nip at her earlobe, I back off and wipe my spilled coffee before Sally notices and kicks me in the pants.
“Good morning!”
“You slept in.”
“I was up with the birds in my office. I’m short some supplies and need to go into town before the storm hits. You two are on your own for lunch.”
“I already know what I’m craving.” The heat in my gaze could melt ice caps as I take in the bloom of color spreading across Shiloh’s face.
She turns, pours herself more coffee and makes some excuse to hightail it back upstairs.
“Be good.” Sally watches me closely.
“I’m always good.”
“Bullshit.” She pretends to sneeze.
“You want me to drive you?”
“I’m old not incapable.” She huffs, fixing coffee in a to-go mug.
“Never said you weren’t.”
“Watch out for her. She’s had a rough go of it.” Sally points to the ceiling.
I move to the window, frowning as I lift my mug. Shiloh’s becoming a puzzle. But just what is she running from?
My hands grip the ax tight as I raise it, bringing it down hard. The log splits, one half of it rolling into the snow.
I know she hears me, splitting logs outside her window. The curtain might’ve moved a few times. But she’s still hiding. From this. From us. From the promise she made to me.
The clouds hang low and the sky is nothing but gray. Sally was right a huge snowstorm is forecasted. We’ll need enough wood to keep warm especially if the power goes out. I already gathered rock salt and shovels. Flashlights and batteries. Being stuck alone here at the inn with her…is an unexpected gift. I’m going to find out all her secret thoughts…her secret fantasies… and how she feels when she comes. I’m going to drown in her until the new year. Hell, if things go well…maybe we’ll make it an annual thing.
Satisfied I’ve chopped enough. I stack the logs against the back of the house and cover them with tarp.
Swiping the sweat from my brow with the bottom of my shirt, I unlace my boots and enter the quiet hotel. A nagging suspicion flits through my mind: How is it that Shiloh and I are the only guests checked in? And where in the fuck is the staff?
My socks are silent as I stride through the downstairs to the small office tucked in the back.
It’s locked.
But that won’t stop me. I take out my small switch blade and jimmy it in the doorjamb, popping back the mechanism.
I’m in.
But cracking the code on Sally’s computer...might be harder. Sighing, I carefully sit behind her desk and think of what it could be.
Sugar cookie?
No.
Creed?
Strike two.
Smirking I try again.
Silver Fox.
Bam. I’m in. I knew she had a crush on Rog despite loving Devon like a daughter.
Her outlook pings that she has new messages. Using the mouse, I click on them reading in stunned disbelief. She was booked. Fully booked and she wrote to each guest; cancelling—citing a leaky roof. That the weight of the snow tore the gutters off. What a crock of shit. She gave them all full refunds though. But her meddling didn’t end there, she emailed all staff officially closing the hotel except for spa services until January third. The day I’m leaving. Oh well, Roque’s accountants will have to figure out how to cook the books when they show nothing, but profit come tax time.
X-ing out. I adjust the chair just how Sally left it. I gave fur baby enough time to pout and lick her wounds. Whistling, Santa Baby, I make my way up the back stairs to the long hall of guest suites. I raise my fist, knocking lightly on her door. “You done hibernating?”
“GO AWAY!”
“Tsk. Tsk. I expect you to be sweet. Obedient.” I roll my own eyes, not even believing the shit coming out of my own mouth. I’ll do or say anything to rile her up.
I jiggle the door handle.
It’s locked.
“Come on baby. Do you think locking this will keep me out? Sally left me the master set of keys.”
“Bullshit! Because she left them with me.”
I hang my head, resting my forehead on her door. “Baby. Let me in.”
“NEVER!”
“Why are you so pissed off anyway?” My lips quirk because I already know why. She wants me. Hardcore. And admitting that is killing her.
“I’ll be in my shower if you want to join…”
Silence.
I glance at my watch. “Five more hours and that ass is mine,” I growl.
Nada.
“Babe? Are you climbing out the window? You know, I’m teasing…?”
“No. You’re not.” The door opens a crack.
“Babe.”
She has some foul-smelling mask on her face, funky gloves and her spa robe. “Got anything on under that?” I finger the sash tied at her waist.
“You wanna find out?”
I my hands start untying.
I’m pushed back and the door slams shut.
“Nice try. But a little beauty session isn’t enough to scare me off. I do appreciate you getting all sexy for me. Did you wax, too?”
“I’m flipping you the bird right now.”
“I’d expect nothing less,” I chuckle, then leave for my own room at the opposite end of the hall. I guess Sally didn’t want to be too obvious by placing me right next door.
The wind howls, throwing snow against the panes of the window next to my far corner room. It’s going to be one hell of a storm tonight. And I don’t mean the one brewing outside.
18
Shiloh
THE MAN THROWS ME OFF MY AXIS.
Sure, I was still half-drunk, but I knew exactly what I was agreeing to. But the slow buzz made me feel bold. In the stark light of morning, waking with gritty eyes, yesterday’s clothes and the smell of him still clinging to my sheets—I kind of freaked out.
I’ve never had casual sex.
Or enjoyed a hot one-night stand. I was always the girl who waited to for a steady boyfriend. But where has that left me? Maybe, a good, hot hookup is just what I need. I mean, it’s not like I’ll fall for him. Every time he opens his smirking mouth, I want to slap it—kiss it…bite it.
When Federico showed up to drop off Sally’s present under the tree, he admitted over a cup of coffee that his ex just got engaged. It was all over her Instagram. He was feeling venerable and blue…something I feel every Christmas. When he asked me to be his date, I knew it was just as friends. He wanted to keep his mind off his past. But when Dare went all alpha, caveman… it pissed me off, but it turned me on even more when he said and did those things to me. I enjoyed watching him make Federico horny. I felt powerful feeling two pairs of lust-filled eyes on my body.
I needed to be alone to process. I never thought a jealous jerk would be so hot. But damn it was. I decided the best defense is a good offense. I showed up to my full day of spa treatments and damn him…I did wax. A Brazilian. It hurt like a bitch and the technician informed me no sex for two days. I’d be to swollen and sore. I brush my hair and apply a coat of clear gloss, smirking to myself in the mirror. It looks like Dare’s about to get a pair of blue balls just in time for Christmas.
“…and that’s a triple word score.” He sits back smugly, deftly placing the wooden letters on the board.
“Son of a bitch,” I mutter under my breath. “Qat? No. No way is that a word.”
“Look it up, sweetheart and be prepared to weep.”
I give him some serious side eye as I swipe the Scrabble Dictionary off the table by the board.
Mother F. He’s right. It is a word. I never knew I had such a competitive streak until we started playing. I can’t lose to him. I just can’t. He’s throwing me off tonight. When the sun went down, I half expected him to barge in and order me to undress. Instead, I found him barefoot in the ki
tchen wearing a worn pair of jeans and a soft knit shirt stirring a pout of homemade marinara sauce.
He did order me to eat and grunted as I swirled the perfectly cooked pasta on my fork and savored every bite.
“Where did you learn to cook?”
His brows draw together as his fingers inch the velvet bag reaching for new letters. “Rog. He kinda raised me.”
“Oh?”
“I’m a member of Creed. In case you haven’t guessed yet.”
“No. No way,” I snort. “You wear thousand-dollar threads and groom yourself too perfectly to even allow any ink to stain your skin.”
He grins. “They do give good facials here. But you don’t have a damn clue, sugar about the kind of man I am.”
“I know. That’s a problem for me. I-I know what I agreed to last night…but I’m not a slut. I usually know my partner’s story before…,” I pause feeling flustered under his intense stare.
“If you want out, just say it baby. I’d never hold you to it. But I’d be lying if I said I don’t want you. It’s been a long time since I wanted someone as much as I want you.”
“Really? You can’t stand me.”
“What can I say? You’re growing on me.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Well in that case…triple letter score and double word. Boom!” I lay down my pieces watching him sweat. We wagered on this game. If I win… I get to tie his ass up to my bed posts and if he wins…I have to sleep in his bed naked. My plan was to win, tie him up and let him sleep alone. Or tease him with my body and leave him needing release. Cruel I know. But I need to get the upper hand somehow.
“Kapus?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m calling B.S.”
“Fine.” I shrug handing over the dictionary.
“Motherfucker,” he curses as I add up my score and grin.
“Told ya.” Just as I gloat the lights flicker before going out.
“Are you afraid of the dark?”
“No. Of course not.”
“Good. But if the power doesn’t come on… we’ll need to sleep by the fire.
“Phew. In that case…I just might let you win.”
“But I’ll still need you to cuddle with me.”
“Why? For body heat? The fire will be warm enough.”
“No. Because maybe I’m scared of the dark.”
“You?” I snort, “not likely.”
He turns, pokes the fire with an iron rod and throws two more logs on the flame. “…I had a rough beginning. My mother was practically a kid herself. Got herself knocked up in high school. Hell, she didn’t even know who my father was.”
I cringe, as he continues.
“She had bad habits and tastes. One man…,” he stops swallowing hard. “He…beat the shit out of me one Christmas. It was the best and the worst Christmas Day I’ve ever had.”
“Why is that?” Moving from my place on the other side of the coffee table, I kneel by his side on the floor, place my palm on his forearm as he stares into the fire, telling me more.
“Because…my best Christmas was the one where I met Roger. It was also the worst because later that night my mother’s boyfriend beat me so bad, I ended up in the hospital and social services took me away for good. I never saw my mother alive again. She overdosed over New Year’s.”
“I don’t even know what to say.”
“Then don’t say anything.” He turns, with glowing fire in his sheen-filled eyes. I move my hands to cup his face and place my lips tenderly on his. But tender doesn’t last. The attraction between us is too visceral. He growls, taking control. His hands move to my fac, holding me still as his kiss consumes me. Our tongues dance. Our hearts race. Mine stumbles more than once but I’m determined not to let it fall.
He moves back, grabs a blanket off the couch and spreads. “Lay down.”
“Yes, master.” I joke but his eyes widen and his nostrils flare. He’s not thinking about the ghosts of Christmases past anymore. He’s here. In the present with me. I do as he commanded and lay down, staring up at the alpha towering over me.
“Take off your sweater.”
My hands move, fulfilling his wish.
“Bra next.”
He hisses as my naked breasts are bathed in fire light.
“Touch yourself. Circle them. Look at me. Tell me with your eyes how it make you feel.”
Holy shit. He’s good. I bite my lip as I toy with myself. Circling, palming, getting wet and ready for a night that can’t happen. Not yet anyway. He stands, leaning an elbow on the mantel and holds a glass of scotch in one hand as he watches me with hooded eyes.
“Roll your nipples with two fingers hard enough to hurt.”
Sweat drips from my brow. I cry out as I do his bidding.
“Good girl.”
My hips move up. I squirm, seeking relief but I can’t bring myself to lower my hands and do what I need in front of him.
He slowly moves forward. Stands over me and tips his glass. Drops of amber liquid fall on my heated skin. His hands grip my knees, spreads them apart to make room for his massive body as he kneels between them. His tongue follows the path of the liquid between my breasts. He stops to lick the splatters from my nipples, rolling his tongue over the aching buds.
“Oops. I think some went down here,” he rasps against my tummy, moving my leggings down. I clench my thighs trying to dissuade him from going further.
“I can’t.”
Puzzled, he questions me with his eyes.
“I-I just can’t tonight.”
“Your period?”
Blushing I shake my head. “My Brazilian.”
“Well hot damn, that will be my Christmas treat. But you deserve to get rewarded, sugar for making Big Daddy happy.”
“Big Daddy?”
“Just go with it. I like to talk dirty.” He’s not embarrassed as his half smile lights up the whole room.
“You should smile more often. You’re handsome as hell.”
“The stay half naked. Your tits make me happy.”
“Dork.” I hit his arm playfully, laughing as he growls like a wild animal as he lowers the rest of my pants.
“Me hungry. Craving this…” He inhales me. Then gently rolls his tongue over my swollen, angry pussy whose pissed at me for locking him out. “Does it hurt?” He lifts his eyes.
“Like hell.”
“So pretty though. I could eat this pretty, pink pussy for days.”
“Promise?”
He winks. Lowers himself and gets to work. His mouth hovers between my legs blowing, sucking, licking… teasing. My hips move, wanting to fuck his mouth. “More. I need more.”
“I know you do. But you’re gonna have to wait for my big cock to take care of that.”
“I know.”
“Don’t pout. I’ll still make you come, real good.”
He lifts my butt using one palm. My pussy is his main course as the fingers on his other hand enter me.
“Yes. More. Please.” I moan, as his digits pump in and out and his mouth clamps down hard on my clit. Sucking. Nipping. Licking. He’s a master. My master… I think dumbly as my world explodes and my hips fuck his mouth harder.
“Darren!” I cry, coming and crying at once.
“Fall, baby. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
And I do. But this time my heart trips and I keep moving. Leaving it vulnerable and hoping by his feet. When it’s over. He finds another throw blanket and pulls it over us. Laying his head across my naked breasts, he pressed an ear to my pounding heartbeat. When I can move, my fingers lazily move through the back of his thick hair. “Who knew we’d be doing this? I really despised you on sight.”
“I hated you more.”
“Why?”
“You reminded me of my ex. She was…a lot of work.”
Jealousy wakes up and instantly is on alert. “How recent an ex?”
“Ten days or so?”
“What?!
” I try to sit but his thick forearm holds me down.
“It was over for months before that. I just didn’t care enough to say it.”
“You just strung her along? You are a jerk.”
“It’s not like I ever loved her. And I hadn’t touched her in weeks. She just didn’t drive me crazy the way you do.”
“I’m so flattered.”
“You should be.”
Rolling my eyes, I roll to my side. Face to face…I trace a finger over his cheek, through the beard he’s been growing since I first saw him almost a week ago.
“Have you ever been in love?”
“No. You?”
“I’ve tried. Several times. But I always choose the wrong men.” We lay in silence for a bit before I raise my eyes to his. “Where do you live?”
“Chicago.”
I wince. That’s far from California. But I can’t think like that. Neither of us promised anything beyond tomorrow.
“How does a schoolteacher afford the new Luis Vuitton luggage?”
Sighing, my hands still. “My mother left me a hefty inheritance.”
His eyebrows raise.
“But don’t let that fool you. I was often forgotten. Neglected in the sense she just didn’t care. She had more important things to do like chase fame. My mother…she was Lexi Whitmore.”
“No shit? I think Rog had her posters up all over the old clubhouse.”
I cringe. “Great. I use her maiden name. It was too much being her daughter sometimes. I used to get teased…asked if I gave head as good as she did when I was in high school. My mother slept with a lot of producers. I went to school with their sons.”
“So, do you?” He teases, rolls to his side, supporting his head by his elbow.
“Shut up.”
“I’m hard as fuck for you. Have been for days.”
“And here I thought we were sharing childhood traumas.”
“We were. But that’s the past. The present is much more promising.” He takes unzips his fly, taking himself out. A pearly white drop glistens on his thick tip.
“It is looking much more promising…” I scoot down, take him in my hands, wanting to make him feel powerless to me. He watches holding his breath, anticipating the feel of my mouth when it finally lands on him. I know what it feels like to wait. To wonder.
