Santa Wore Spurs

by Various

  Everything with Bree had been sharper, better, more arousing and exciting. Even watching her shop for clothes, or squeal with delight at the sight of the deer on his property. Or the fact that even as she submitted to him, she’d challenged him. Was that what he’d been looking for—the essential ingredient that had always been missing?

  By the time he drove up to his house and pulled into the garage he was mentally exhausted. He needed a stiff drink and a cold shower, and a good night’s sleep to put everything behind him. Oh, and he’d better change the sheets, too, so he didn’t act like some besotted idiot, hugging the pillows to inhale the last traces of her scent.

  Shit, Morales. You’ve got it bad.

  What the hell could he do about it?

  Maybe instead of keeping himself in a perpetual state of arousal with the erotic fantasies he let run wild through his head, he could refocus his brain and see if he could find an answer to his dilemma.

  * * * *

  Bree thought for sure when the plane finally landed in Chicago, she would have put Texas behind her. She’d deliberately packed her clothes from the weekend and had worn simple slacks and a sweater, her usual casual attire in the city. Even her boots went into the suitcase, but she had no place to put the damn hat. Deliberately ignoring the stares of almost everyone she passed, she pretended she wore it all the time and no one dared to comment.

  But its very presence on her head reminded her of Rafe, a memory she needed to scrub from her brain if she intended to get on with her life, which she certainly had every intention of doing. She’d taken a little detour, that was all. And enjoyed it far more than she would have expected. But being with a Dom on a regular basis? How would she suppress her own need for control? To be the one in charge?

  Her head ached with all the questions to which she had no answers. Even two cocktails on the flight did nothing to ease the tight knot she’d tied herself into. She embraced the familiarity of Midway Airport, the crowds and the bustle, even the rude people who pushed and shoved to get close to the baggage carousel and then fought with each other for taxis.

  Finally in her condo, she wheeled her luggage into her bedroom to unpack, tossed her jacket onto the bed and automatically reached up to run her fingers through her hair, a nervous habit that only came out when she tried to solve a problem.

  And encountered the hat, still sitting firmly on her head.

  Bet that gave the folks in the airport a chuckle.

  She lifted it off and placed it on the dresser. How had he talked her into buying it? A ridiculous, frivolous, unnecessary luxury. When would she ever wear it again? It would just sit there as a reminder of a wild, erotic weekend she’d spent with a man who aroused her by merely touching her.

  Unpacking always bored her, so she disposed of it as quickly as possible, tossing the dirty laundry into the hamper, other items into the basket for the cleaners. When she got to the soft blue boots she held them to her chest for a moment, remembering Rafe’s disdain for what he’d finally called her urban dweller boots and the smile on his face when he saw these on her feet for the first time.

  Rafe.

  God. How would she ever get him out of her mind? His larger than life presence remained constant, even when he lived several states away. When his image shimmered in her head, she couldn’t even remember what any of her subs looked like. How pathetic.

  She stood a long time under the shower, hoping the hot water would wash away not only the vestiges of Rafe’s touch, but also the memories of the weekend. Pulling on her nightshirt, she spent time brushing her hair, something that usually soothed her and eased any strain from a day. No such luck tonight. Her brain whirled with thoughts best forgotten. In the bedroom she turned on her iPad and brought up a new book she’d bought, but hadn’t started yet. Maybe a good story would settle her, but after ten minutes she realized she’d moved no further than the first page.

  She couldn’t seem to move past the deep internal ache for a man meant to be nothing more than a diversion. Being controlled by something other than pure reason had been so seductive, she’d forgotten to hold herself back, to discipline her reactions. Rafe had stripped all that away, and she’d loved every minute of it.

  But now what? Where did she go from here, now that he’d turned her desires and every image she had of herself upside down?

  Finally, aware she’d need more than good intentions to get a decent night’s sleep, she poured herself a double shot of Jack Daniel’s Black, tossed it down and pulled the covers over her head.

  Go away, Rafe. I need to get back to my life.

  During the night snow had fallen, covering the drifts already lining the sidewalks as a result of the plows clearing the streets. In its virgin appearance, it looked clean and sparkling, covering the inevitable dirt from the city embedded one layer below the surface. Bree inhaled, taking in a lungful of sharp, cold Illinois air. It startled her that it didn’t stimulate her the way it always did. As a city girl, born and bred, she’d thrived on every bit of it, even the dirt from the particles in the air that settled on everything.

  Why did she suddenly long for the scent of mountain cedar, honeysuckle and horseflesh?

  Enough. Focus on something else.

  But as she waited for a free taxi to pull to the curb, she realized the other key element of the atmosphere--the sickening abundance of Christmas decorations. Artificial boughs of greenery wound around streetlights, decorated with red bows. The Salvation Army, with its members dressed in their signature Santa suits, rang bells and cried "Merry Christmas."

  Merry Christmas, shit. Bah humbug was more like it.

  As she climbed into the cab to head for her office, she made a major effort to blank it all from her thoughts.

  During the two days she’d spent with Rafe, she kept her cell phone on vibrate, surreptitiously checking it now and then for anything urgent she needed to attend to. But she’d already had a lengthy discussion with Jesse after the client meetings, letting him know the contracts had been signed, the project had a thumbs up from all parties concerned, and she’d put a schedule together once she arrived in town. All the rest of the voice mails and text messages she’d just deleted, in no mood to listen to people tell her how sorry they were about what happened with Chad. Or ask her how in hell it had happened at all. And what did she intend to do about it?

  Gossip traveled fast in her circle of friends from Persuasion, and if that wouldn’t be bad enough, she knew people who didn’t even understand it, were still gossiping about the scene when she’d confronted Chad at work the next day. At least it hadn’t invaded her own workplace, then Jesse would have asked her about it. He never minced words about anything.

  The cab ride took longer than usual, the streets crowded with traffic as the holiday approached, visitors to the city jaywalking and making it even worse. And even inside the cab she could hear the sound of that damn Christmas music. Maybe she could get a set of earplugs?

  She squeezed into a jammed elevator car and rode it up to the tenth floor of her office building. Inside Cascade Designs, people scurried everywhere, and cell phones seemed to be chiming from every corner. She’d grown used to the bustle of the place. With twelve architects and ten draftsmen, not to mention all the support staff, Cascade stayed busy, 24/7. But this seemed to outdo everything.

  She stopped at the reception desk to pick up her messages. Naomi, who had been with the firm since Jesse moved it to Chicago, passed her a thick stack of pink slips.

  "Welcome back. I know what you’ll be doing today."

  Bree took the slips and grimaced. "No kidding." Then she did a double take as she looked at the headband Naomi wore, fluorescent red with blinking lights. "What is that thing on your head and why are you wearing it?"

  "Isn’t it neat?" Naomi grinned. "Mr. Grier said we should decorate everything for Christmas this year, even ourselves."

  Bree looked around, startled to realize that the usually sedate tree found in a corner of the reception area, had b
een replaced by one that reached the ceiling. Ornaments loaded the branches, hiding any greenery. Wreaths hung on the wall of the spacious area and wait, more of the damn Christmas music played from somewhere. Shit. Had the world lost its collective mind?

  "Why this year?" she asked, curious. "I mean, Christmas is Christmas, right?"

  "Well, sure. But he sent around an email that we’d had a banner year. The partners were over the moon about the projects, and the client list and—" She leaned forward, trying to get closer to Bree. "There’s a rumor that the associates like you might be getting big bonuses. But you didn’t hear it from me." She clamped her fingers over her mouth and shook her head. "Not one word."

  Even that didn’t seem to change Bree’s feelings.

  "Oh. Yeah. Great." She frowned. "Merry Christmas and all that."

  "Come on, Bree," Naomi dimpled. "Get with the spirit of the holidays."

  But Bree just waved the hand holding the slips at her and made her way down the hall to her office. Breathing a sigh of relief, she firmly closed the door, set her briefcase beside her desk and her portfolio on her drafting table. She glanced around, stuck her purse in her drawer, hung up her coat, and tried to decide if she dared ask someone to get her coffee so she didn’t have to brave the break room, certain it too, had been overrun with disgusting holiday decorations.

  Dropping into her chair she tried to figure out how she’d get through the next few weeks without losing it and cussing people out at the annual office party. Or any of the other events she might be scheduled to attend. She wondered if she could get out of some of them. Many of them. Most of them.

  An image of Rafe popped into her head, lying naked beneath a Christmas tree with a jingle bell tied to his cock. Instantly her panties dampened and her nipples tightened.

  Damn!

  He wouldn’t be under her tree and she didn’t want to imagine him under anyone else’s.

  She wondered if Emilio would be hosting a Christmas munch, and if there would be a special performance again.

  No, no, no. She leaned her elbows on her desk and rubbed her temples. She had to stop torturing herself this way. As she debated the evils of going for coffee, a knock sounded on her door. Before she could answer, the door opened and Jesse Grier stepped into her office.

  At fifty-five he had reached the top of his game as an architect. The walls of the conference room were lined with awards for both himself and the agency. A little thicker through the middle than he’d been, a little more gray peppering his hair, a few more lines carved into his face, but still in damn good shape. Acknowledged as outstanding in the industry, he was also the kind of boss that the people who worked for him, raved about. Jesse knew all about people, a trait that along with his talent, helped build their impressive client list.

  "Hi!" She gestured toward one of the chairs opposite the desk. "You didn’t have to come here yourself. You could have had me buzzed. I was coming to your office in a few anyway."

  "You know me." He winked. "I never stand on ceremony. And I’m not into summoning people unless I have bad news to give them." He sat down opposite her. "So. We can mark the trip to Austin as a huge success."

  "That’s a big fat yes. Although we’ve already touched base on that, I planned to ask for some time with you later today to discuss the schedule for getting the designs completed. Also find out what else you think might be involved as we move forward."

  "The client called me personally to thank me for sending you to them. He’s beyond delighted that you knew exactly what he wanted. That you’d researched what would be needed for the designs and were as excited about the project as he and his partners are."

  "They’re very nice to work with, Jesse. But you know me. I approach all my projects that way."

  He dipped his head in acknowledgement. "I do. You always go the extra mile. Anyway, I think we’re going to be getting a lot more work coming our way from them. He said he’s referring several of his friends to us."

  Bree cocked an eyebrow. "Don’t they have enough architects in Texas?"

  "Sure, but apparently none of those people ever connected with them the way they did with you. And they are especially impressed with how hard you work to understand what the client’s vision is and deliver it. So." He studied her face. "Think you might enjoy traveling to Texas on a regular basis?"

  Her heart did a little somersault. Go to Texas again? Often?

  Rafe!

  No, no, no. By the time she got there again he’d no doubt be involved with someone new. This had been as much a lark for him as it had been for her. No way would he be available. Or even willing for a return engagement.

  "Something wrong?" A look of concern washed over Jesse’s face. "I thought that would appeal to you. In fact, that you’d be thrilled. When we spoke after the client meetings, you were excited about the job and the area."

  "I am. I am." She assured him. "No, no problem at all." She swallowed. "And I am definitely thrilled." She found a smile from somewhere. "And Jesse? I want to thank you so much for this terrific opportunity. I really appreciate it."

  "You earned it, kiddo. You’re one of my best." He pushed himself out of his chair. "Call my secretary and have her schedule some time with me this afternoon. I’m anxious to see what you’re putting together." At the doorway he paused. "And don’t forget the office Christmas party is this Saturday."

  Damn!

  He always scheduled it early in the month so the architects working for him had time for their client parties later on. She just wasn’t ready to be full of good cheer right now."

  However.

  "I’ll be there," she assured him."

  "Same place as last year. Everyone seemed to like it."

  Then he walked away.

  Bree dropped her head into her palms. If only a fairy godmother would show up and whisk her away until January 2nd.

  Somehow she made it through the week, although it took every ounce of discipline and control she could muster. She worked on the Texas project, ruthlessly wiping Rafe from her mind. Her phone calls with friends were brief. She pleaded work, and they seemed to understand, although she could tell some of them were dying to share gossip with her.

  She even managed to push the disaster with Chad to the back of her mind, until fate stepped in and threw her a curve. Jesse asked her to sit in on a meeting for a colleague out with the flu. Normally she didn’t mind. Was happy to. But this one happened to be in the office building where Chad worked. She had no good reason to refuse so she crossed her fingers and prayed that in a building that big, and with all the people who worked there, they wouldn’t run into each other.

  She actually made it in and out unscathed. No Chad. No one giving her a hard time. Then, before hailing a cab to get back to her office, she stopped at a Starbucks a few doors down. As she paid the barista, a hand settled on her shoulder. She jerked, startled, and turned to find Chad staring at her with his skate-gray eyes.

  "Hello, Bree."

  His low voice shot arrows through her, pain stabbing at her everywhere. If she’d been holding her latte she would have dumped it all over him. Instead she drew in a breath and dipped her head in a nod.

  "Chad."

  She tried to move past him but he took her elbow in a firm grip and guided her to a place at the end of the coffee bar.

  "I really don’t have a minute to spare," she told him, hoping her coffee would show up in the ready section immediately. "I’m on a tight schedule."

  "I saw you in our building and I waited in the lobby, hoping to catch you. But this is better. We can sit in the corner over there and talk privately."

  She stared at him. "Privately? Chad, I don’t have a damn thing to say to you, private or otherwise." She tried to push past him but he stood immovable."

  "I made a bad mistake, Bree. A really bad one." He raked his fingers through his perfectly razor cut hair. "I wanted to call you a hundred times but I kept losing my courage."

  She glared at him. "You had p
lenty of courage when it came to humiliating me at Perfection and in your office. We’re done. Get out of my way."

  "Please." The pleading look she was so familiar with came into his eyes. "Five minutes. That’s all I ask."

  "Not five seconds. You said you made a mistake? Damn straight you did. Now live with it. I don’t want anything to do with you ever again." She realized, with startling clarity, that she meant exactly that. She felt no attraction for the man any longer. One of the baristas set the cup with her name on it atop the counter and she reached for it. "Now if you’ll excuse me I have to catch a cab."

  Somehow she forced her way past him, but he followed her out to the sidewalk.

  "Bree," he began again.

  At her signal a cab pulled into the curb. With the door open she turned to Chad. "Here’s a hint for the future. Don’t betray people. The reputation clings to you like stink on a skunk. Even if I wanted to start up again, I could never trust you. And in our lifestyle, when trust is gone, there’s nothing left."

  She climbed into the back seat, slammed the door and gave the driver the address of her building. As she sipped her latte, she realized again how good she felt. She’d imagined the scene so many times in her mind. It stunned her to realize that the last vestiges of rage were gone. The last feeling of betrayal. Seeing Chad and realizing she felt absolutely nothing for him any more gave her a sense of freedom.

  Smiling to herself, she sat back and took another swallow of her drink.

  If only I could find the answers to the situation with Rafe as easily.

  * * * *

  Saturday night arrived, and it brought with it, all the enjoyment of a plague. The last thing Bree wanted to do was dress up, mingle with people and pretend to be joyous and merry. She didn’t know if she’d ever get the Christmas spirit back but it certainly wouldn’t be this year. As a work obligation, she’d honor it.