The Mistletoe Kisser: Blue Moon #8

by Score, Lucy

  “I mean seriously. What the hell is wrong with you, Sam?”

  “A whole lot of things apparently.” Leading with the fact that she’d let a stack of papers intimidate her into backing down. Her attempt to avoid rejection meant she’d set back any hopes of getting the sanctuary on its feet by at least another year.

  He reached out and took her hand. “Whatever you think you’re proving by being the first in line to volunteer or the one to never say no isn’t worth never getting what you want. Sometimes you have to say no to everyone else so you can say yes to what’s important to you.”

  She blew out a breath. “Wow. You’re good at this. I feel ashamed yet motivated to do something about it.”

  He squeezed her hand. “They don’t call me the client whisperer for nothing.”

  He’d just chastised her, but one hand-hold and visions of booty calls danced in her head again.

  “It’s after eleven. Way past your bedtime,” he said. He tossed his finished wreath onto the floor like a Frisbee. Willis the duck waddled over and climbed into it like a nest.

  “So what do I do?”

  Ryan stood. “You’re going to go to bed and get some sleep.”

  The booty call gods were cruel.

  Disappointed, dejected, and downtrodden, she followed him to the door. She clutched a roll of black velvet ribbon as an anchor. He shrugged into his coat and whistled for Stan. The sheep lazily trotted over, a cat on his heels. Ryan turned to face her. She stared down at their feet, not wanting to say goodbye to him yet again. Not wanting to be left alone to face the mess she’d created.

  Then he was nudging her chin up. “Look at me, Sam.” His voice had a rough edge to it that made her blood turn to liquid gold. He hissed in a breath when she did as he asked. “Don’t look so sad. I don’t like it.”

  She forced a hideous fake smile, and he laughed softly, still holding her chin in his hand. “I’ll be back in the morning, early,” he said.

  She blinked. “Why?”

  “Because you’re going to call in reinforcements for the wreaths, and you and I are going to fill out those grant applications.”

  She grabbed him by the arms. “Are you serious? It’s a lot of paperwork,” she warned.

  “Yes. We’ll get it figured out. And we’ll get it all done.”

  “What about Carson’s thing? And your secret feud with Rainbow?”

  “That’s for me to worry about. Not you. Have the coffee going.”

  Without thinking, she threw her arms around him and held on tight. He went still against her and then slowly slid his arms around her. She pressed her face to his chest. His solid, comforting chest. There, wrapped in his arms, she felt safe and warm and not alone.

  She peered up at him. “You’re great at your job. Your firm is incredibly stupid not to see that.”

  “Thank you, Sam,” he said gruffly. He tucked her hair behind her ear, letting his fingers linger on her neck. Her skin heated at each point of contact.

  She couldn’t look away from his eyes. They’d gone silver on her.

  Don’t think about kissing him.

  Crap. Too late.

  “Sam?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I know I just told you to start saying no to everyone, but…”

  “But?” she prompted him, feeling lightheaded.

  “But I need you to have one more ‘yes’ in you.”

  She couldn’t catch her breath. Her senses were full of Ryan.

  Stan the sheep got bored and wandered back to his place in front of the fire.

  “What’s the question?” she whispered. If he asked her to pick up his dry cleaning or sheepsit, she would die on the spot. Then she’d come back to life just to throw him and his sheep out of her house.

  “Can I kiss you goodnight?”

  23

  She nodded slowly. The answer he needed to his question.

  “How do you like to be kissed, Sammy?” Ryan’s voice was quiet, but the words felt like gravel in his throat.

  The black ribbon slipped from her fingers, hitting the floor and unraveling as it rolled toward the wall.

  She sighed into the space between their mouths. “I-I don’t know. I liked how you kissed me before.”

  He slid his hands down her arms to her wrists, tugging her forward. When her toes brushed his shoes, she still wasn’t close enough to his liking. So he lifted her to stand on top of his feet.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Research.” And then his mouth was dipping to hers. Her lips, soft and full, yielded to his immediately. The seam between them widened as he traced the tip of his tongue over it. And then she was opening for him, surrendering to him.

  He groaned as her tongue met his. The kiss was sweeter, headier than he could have imagined. He intended to pace himself. To sample, not devour. But she tasted like so many forbidden things, and he couldn’t get enough. The stroke of his tongue against hers was possessive, aggressive. She let out another breathy sigh that did strange things to his pulse.

  He was playing with fire. And though he thought he’d assessed the risk, the second she breathed his name, he knew he’d miscalculated.

  Ryan’s New List

  1. Find out how this woman says his name when he’s inside her.

  Leaning down, he slid his hands under her and lifted. She wrapped those candy cane socks around his waist as he spun them around. The table was the closest available flat surface. He shoved crafting paraphernalia out of the way, sending some of it tumbling to the floor.

  McClane the cat stalked off the table in a huff.

  And then Ryan was placing her on the white oak and sliding his hands under her ancient sweatshirt.

  “Yes?” he whispered against her mouth, fingers stroking the taut skin of her stomach.

  “God, yes,” she breathed. Her fingers dove into his hair and tugged hard.

  He found the edge of a cropped tank top just under her breasts. And just as he was ready to glide his hands under the cotton and over the softest, smoothest skin he’d ever encountered, Sammy pulled back.

  “Wait. You don’t do one-night stands,” she reminded him.

  “I seem to be doing a lot of things I don’t do.” His palms inched higher as he kissed her again.

  She moaned, and his hard-on began to pulse painfully behind his zipper.

  “Wait,” she said again, breaking away from his mouth. “I don’t want to force you into anything.”

  “Stop being honorable and take advantage of me, Sparkle,” he growled.

  “Well, if you insist.” With one hand on the back of his neck, she reached for the fly of his jeans.

  She managed to pop the button before he kissed her again. As his tongue swept into her mouth, she lowered his zipper. The kiss was hard and desperate. He slid his hands up the last inch to cup her breasts.

  “Finally,” he breathed, as those soft curves welcomed his touch.

  Sammy’s head fell back, and the hand that had been poised to dive into the front of his jeans went limp as he brushed his palms over both pebbled peaks. Touching wasn’t enough. He had to see her. To taste her.

  He pressed her back down on the table and dragged the sweatshirt over her head. The little white tank top obscured nothing from his hungry gaze. She arched her back, putting those beautiful round breasts on display for him.

  That trusting acquiescence made him feel things he hadn’t known he was capable of feeling.

  She was willing to give him this part of her after having known him only a few days. That was a gift. A miracle. She’d seen him on his worst day and still wanted him.

  He brushed his lips over her cheek, the curve of her jaw. She smelled like sugar cookies and cinnamon. He was a goner.

  “More.” Her voice trembled, and it made him feel like the luckiest son of a bitch in town. Possibly the state.

  “I need you to know I didn’t come here with the intent to do this,” he whispered as he kissed and licked his way down her n
eck to her shoulder.

  “’K,” she said. Her hand returned to his jeans. Only this time, it didn’t stop at the waistband.

  He lost his breath and his damn mind when she closed her fingers around his swollen shaft.

  “I love that you don’t wear underwear,” she said on a low moan.

  Right now, he was pretty happy with that wardrobe choice too. “This is probably a mistake,” he admitted on a rasp. A misstep that nothing in the world could stop him from making. “I want to make that mistake with you.”

  There were too many layers between them.

  “Definitely,” she agreed. Her fingers tightened on his erection and then began to move, driving him out of his mind and into his body.

  On a groan, he lowered himself and sucked a nipple into his mouth through the thin cotton. She bucked her hips against him and tightened her delicious grip on his shaft.

  He didn’t know how much longer he could stand not being inside her. To distract himself, he shoved up her tank and worshipped her breasts with his mouth.

  Sammy’s leg spasmed in response, catching the box of jingle bells and sending it flying to the floor.

  Bells rang. Cats hissed. Stan the sheep eyed them curiously.

  “Shit,” she breathed. “Sorry.”

  He picked her up off the table.

  “Ryan, if you come to your senses right now, I will implode,” she vowed.

  “You’ve destroyed my senses, Sam. We’re going to your bedroom.”

  “Yay! Condom?”

  “Wallet. Bedroom?”

  The fireplace was closer and cozy. Maybe even romantic? But Ryan didn’t want to have to perform for the first time with a petting zoo for an audience.

  “Upstairs and to the left,” she said, shivering against him. She rained kisses over his jaw and neck. And when she sank her teeth into his ear lobe, he almost tripped.

  Recovering quickly, he bounded up the staircase. Until she shoved a hand between them and gripped him in her fist. His dick jerked, and his foot nearly missed the next step.

  “Don’t move a fucking muscle until I get us up these stairs,” he commanded.

  “Hurry!”

  They both survived the last few steps and Ryan kicked open the first door on the left, zeroing in on the bed. He couldn’t have described the room or the bed if his life depended on it because he was too busy dragging those Naughty or Nice shorts down her thighs. Underneath, she wore white underwear with snowflakes, and he couldn’t stop staring at the tantalizing wet spot on them.

  “Help,” she whispered, and he realized she was doing her best to shove his jeans to the floor. He held off on touching her for as long as he could. Which was only about 1.5 seconds. Just long enough to get his shirt off and his jeans down.

  With his jeans trapped around his ankles and one shoe on, it was good enough, he thought as he dove for her. Covering her warm, soft body with his own. As his mouth took hers in an aggressive assault, he brushed his fingers gently over the hypnotic wet spot on her underwear.

  She shivered.

  He was afraid to touch her too much. The want welling up inside him threatened to take over everything. He felt alive. Out of control. Scared shitless.

  As if sensing that, Sammy brought his hand to her breast and closed his fingers over it. And then he couldn’t have stopped if he wanted to.

  She was soft and smooth and small. He couldn’t understand how she was here, available to him. How he was the lucky guy who got to taste her and touch her tonight.

  He replaced his hand with his mouth and teased her pink nipple until it stiffened against his tongue.

  “I need you, Ryan,” she whimpered, bucking against him. “Please.”

  He shoved his hand into her festive underwear and finally found her.

  She needed him. Her words repeated in his head, echoed in his chest where knots he hadn’t known he had untied themselves.

  “Say it again,” he demanded, spearing two fingers into her tight, wet channel.

  Sammy’s moan was music to his fucking ears.

  “I need you.” It was a gasp. A plea. And it was more than enough for him. Slowly, he pulled his fingers out of her, then thrust them back in. Rhythmically. Tauntingly. She was so fucking wet. So fucking ready for him. And had he followed the rules, stuck to the plan, he would have missed out on this.

  The thought of that had him diving into another kiss, harder than he’d intended. Her fingers dug into his neck and shoulders.

  “Open your legs for me, Sam,” he growled, slowly withdrawing his fingers one last time.

  She obeyed, dropping her knees open as he fumbled for the condom and rolled it on.

  Finally, he settled himself between her legs.

  His heart was racing. Her breath was coming in short pants. “If that sheriff shows up right now, I’m not going to be able to stop,” Ryan warned her.

  Her laugh was soft and breathy. Until the head of his cock pushed insistently, desperately at her entrance. “Please. I need you now.” She bucked against him.

  It was everything he needed. Right here in this ridiculous town. In this room. In this incredible, infuriating, inexplicable woman.

  His name escaped her throat as he gripped her hips and drove home in one swift, sweet thrust.

  It was otherworldly. Being buried inside her as her muscles clenched then slowly relaxed around his cock to accommodate his size only to tighten again. Joined. Melded. Partners in this adventure.

  “I know we just started,” she whispered in a rush. “But I’m definitely going to die from this.”

  “Not before you come,” he growled. She was so damn tight he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to hang on.

  “What about you?” she breathed.

  His cock flexed inside her in response and she moaned. “I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem,” he promised.

  He eased out of her, loving the decadent drag of her walls against him, before pushing back in. “Fuck.”

  It was too much and still not enough. Her broken cry said the same.

  “You drive me insane,” he murmured, dipping his head to lap at her nipple.

  She gripped his hair and bucked her hips to meet his thrust. “Back at ya.”

  He couldn’t help himself. He pulled out and drove back in harder, faster. Finesse be damned. Meticulous quest to discover exactly what she needed forgotten.

  Again. And again he entered her. Her walls opened for him just wide enough to force him up against the edge. Faster. Harder. She was clinging to him, those perfect breasts trembling with every animalistic thrust.

  She deserved sweet, romantic. But he couldn’t slow it down. Couldn’t take his time. He was pumping into her like a piston. Every thrust pushing her a little further across the mattress. His knees and toes dug into the bed for leverage as he drove them both up.

  “Dammit, Sammy,” he murmured as he felt her start to flutter around him. Her release was going to be the end of him, and he knew it. Bringing his mouth to hers, he continued to hammer into her. His body was desperate for the relief that only her release could bring.

  Her nails dug into his skin and dragged across his back. Her breasts were flattened between them, and he wished he had the time to worship them with his mouth, but right now, the only thing that mattered was Sammy coming apart on his cock. He yanked her knees up higher.

  “Ryan!” she cried out, and he felt her clamp down on him in the single most erotic experience of his life. Her arms and legs locking around his body while she exploded around him, working his cock in one of biology’s perfect miracles.

  His own release was right there. Ready to destroy him. One glorious squeeze, one sob from her mouth, and the heat of it seared his balls, blazed up his shaft, and then he was coming—hard, so hard—into the depths of her body.

  She throbbed and writhed around him, wringing him out, making him feel like a fucking hero until they were both trembling.

  He was spent. Hollowed out. The icy dread of the unk
nown, all the “now whats” that had circled endlessly in his brain were quiet. Vanished as if they’d never existed. The only thing that existed, that mattered, was the woman in his arms.

  “I like your bed,” he murmured sleepily against her hair. It could have been ten minutes later or an hour. He had no concept of time as he floated in post-orgasmic bliss.

  “Mmph. Thanks,” she said, rolling her face out of the pillow. He could hear the smug smile in her voice. “I like having sex with you in my bed.”

  He would have grinned, but still hadn’t regained fine motor control. “I like that thing you did with your mouth and then that other thing you did with your legs. Actually, I liked all the things you did. You were right.”

  “Right about what?” she asked.

  “You’re really good at this.”

  She snickered lazily. “You’re no slouch yourself. High five?”

  Blindly, he reached out and—after accidentally high-fiving her breast and then her forehead—he found her hand.

  “Good in bed. Bad at high-fiving,” Sammy mused, snuggling deeper under the covers.

  “I’ll update my resume,” he joked.

  She rolled over to face him and folded her hands under that angel face. “What are you going to do? Or is that too heavy to talk to after…”

  “After all those orgasms?” He reached out and traced a finger down the slope of her nose, over the fullness of her lips swollen from his own mouth. “I don’t know. I’d thought about applying at a competitor after my non-compete contract expires. Now I’m not so sure. Maybe I don’t have to stay in Seattle? Most of my family is in Pennsylvania and New Jersey. Maybe it would be nice to be closer? To be more involved? Or maybe it’s time to do something different. Something on a smaller scale?”

  Maybe he could stay in Blue Moon? Or near Blue Moon.

  Maybe he could see where things went with the tomboy veterinarian who didn’t realize how appealing she was?

  Maybe the derailing of his life’s plan was just the beginning of a new adventure, not the end of a dream.

  “That’s a lot of maybes,” she said.