Chasing Christmas Eve

by Jill Shalvis

  Spence walked Colbie to her apartment, telling himself that if she gave any sign of hesitation, he’d walk away. He’d go upstairs and bury himself in his office.

  And not inside her body.

  But as she dipped her head to her purse, rummaging for her key, their bodies brushed together and she stilled, closing her eyes for a beat, like she was trying to remember the feel of him for later.

  He’d known the first time he’d ever laid eyes on her, drenched in the fountain, that he was going to have to hold back with her. That he couldn’t let her in. That she deserved so much more from him than he could give. Just as he’d known that if he ever managed to step away from her, it’d be nearly impossible, letting go of the only thing that had ever made him happy.

  And if that wasn’t an epiphany all in itself.

  Colbie managed to get ahold of her keys, letting out a moan as he slipped an arm around her from behind. When she got her door open, she stepped inside and grabbed his hand, dragging him in with her before kicking her door closed. Then she pushed him up against it, making him smile because she was mirroring the move he’d pulled on her the last time they’d been in this very spot.

  And God, when she looked at him like that, he was a goner. She’d offered him her friendship. Her body.

  And he’d taken both.

  He wanted to keep them both. And he also wanted more, so much more. He wanted her damn heart, like she had his.

  “About your plan,” she whispered against his lips. She was on tiptoe, her hands gliding up his shoulders and into his hair.

  “What about it?” His hands were just as busy, burrowing beneath the sexy sweater that had been driving him crazy all morning.

  “Were you all talk?” she murmured, “or are you going to back it up with some action?”

  Going with show instead of tell, he hoisted her up into his arms and, with her wrapped around him, walked to her bed. “Better move, cat,” he said to the black cat sleeping on a pillow.

  The cat sniffed in disdain but did indeed hop down. “Good kitty,” he said and tossed Colbie down on the mattress.

  Before she’d so much as bounced, he had her jeans off and was on her, scooping her in close. It felt good, holding her like this. Folded together so intimately in the quiet haven of her apartment, where no one else existed.

  “Meow.”

  Except the cat. “Go prowling,” Spence told her. “We’re going to need some privacy.”

  “True story,” Colbie said and then reared up to nibble on Spence’s neck.

  He inhaled sharply and Colbie stilled. “Did that hurt?”

  “Not you, the cat—”

  Who’d climbed back onto the bed and was sitting on his ass, kneading it like she was making muffins.

  “Claws,” he ground out, twisting to pick the cat up and set her back onto the floor.

  Colbie laughed, her hands going to his ass to knead—without claws.

  “Better?” she asked.

  “Much.” He kissed her then and they rolled over the bed jockeying for position. He fell to his back, liking the way she looked straddling him, her hair pouring over the both of them like spun silk. He brushed a kiss to her jaw, her chin, fisting his hand in her hair to bring her mouth back to his.

  Colbie writhed on his lap trying to get closer and then closer still, flicking her tongue across his lip, galvanizing him into action. Rearing up, he pulled her sweater over her head and nudged her straps off her shoulders, watching as the cups slipped, teasing him with a peekaboo hint of rosy nipple that he had to get his mouth on.

  With a moan, she dropped her head back and she rocked the softest, wettest part of her over the hardest, most desperate part of him, and though he’d intended to go slow and love her body until she couldn’t take any more, it’d have to wait until round two.

  With an arm low around her hips, he yanked her beneath him, tugged the sexy little scrap of silk masquerading as panties off. He freed himself, thankful for the condom he had in his pants from the day before. Colbie reached for him, cradling his body with hers like it was where he was meant to be as he sank into her.

  “Spence,” she whispered, her gasp of pleasure comingling with his. She arched up into him, sinking five nails into his back and five more into his ass, giving the cat a run for its money when it came to impatience.

  He gave her slow, deep thrusts that had her panting his name along with some wordless, frenzied pleas that spurred him on, leaving his best intentions about taking his time in the dust. Incredibly aware of her every movement, the way she coiled herself around him like he was the anchor that kept her from floating away, he heard the exact second her breathing changed, felt her muscles tightening around him. Nudging her lips with his, he kissed her, swallowing her cry as she burst, and just like that, he was done for as well.

  They stayed locked together for long moments, trying to catch their breath, Spence fully aware that he’d just let himself fall a little bit harder, certainly harder than he’d intended or wanted. Not that it seemed to matter to his brain what he wanted. His heart had taken over, and for a guy who prided himself on his brains, it was a humbling admittance of defeat.

  Colbie was more content than she could remember feeling and hoped she never had to move again.

  “Sleepy?” Spence whispered in her ear, making her smile at the sex-roughened low timbre.

  “Exhausted,” she admitted. “But it’s a fairly regular state for me. I’m writing like the wind here but I’m still a terrible insomniac. You?”

  “No. I usually sleep like a baby.”

  She sighed. “I hate people who can go to sleep as soon as they shut their eyes. It takes me three hours, a minimum of five hundred position changes, and a sacrifice to the gods.”

  He laughed but it faded when his phone vibrated from the vicinity of his pants, still on the floor.

  “Hey,” she teased. “At least you know it can’t be a sibling asking for money.”

  “True.”

  His phone buzzed again. And again he didn’t move.

  “It might be work,” she said.

  “Yes, but I’m the boss, so . . .”

  She laughed. “You don’t need to at least look?”

  “I don’t want to adult today,” he said, nuzzling in closer. “I don’t even want to human today. Today I want to dog. I want to lie on the floor in the sun. Just pet me and bring me snacks.”

  She laughed and he ran a finger across her breast, giving out a quiet hum of pleasure when her nipple puckered up tighter for him. He leaned over her, pressing her back against the pillows as he licked her like a lollipop.

  “Spence,” she gasped. Her insatiable need for him no longer shocked her but she was still getting used to it, to days being in this heightened state of awareness and need for him. Sinking her fingers into his hair, she tugged until he looked at her. “I don’t want to be that girl,” she said.

  “Which girl?”

  “The one that keeps you from your work or your promises.”

  “Not your problem.” He kissed the tip of her breast and sat up. “And if it helps to know, being with you like this is very . . . motivating.” He flashed a smile.

  One she was helpless to not return. “So . . . me being here isn’t a complete hindrance?”

  He pulled her onto his lap and rubbed an impressive erection at her core. “Depends on your definition of hindrance . . .”

  She smiled, as she knew he’d expected her to.

  “I can multitask,” he assured her. “I’ll get back to things in a minute.”

  “Well, you are the master at the one-minute thing.”

  “Ouch,” he said mildly. “Not exactly what a guy wants to hear—his name and one minute spoken in the same sentence.”

  She smiled. “The only time I think of you and one minute together, it’s in reference to how fast you can get me off with that thing you do with your tongue.”

  He smiled a badass smile. “I’ve got a few other tricks as well,”
he murmured and pulled her down to him, rolling her beneath him, making himself at home between her legs. “Allow me to demonstrate.”

  Oh boy . . .

  Chapter 24

  #OhMylanta

  Colbie awoke at the touch of Spence’s hand on her hip. It was late afternoon—she wasn’t sure what time, but they’d spent the rest of the day in her bed. She was warm and comfortable in his arms, their legs tangled together, her back to him. The fading light slanted through the window, casting a glow through the room.

  But that wasn’t what made her smile. It was feeling Spence’s lips on her shoulder, softly exploring. She could feel the heat of his body against her bare back, the hair on his chest slightly scratchy against her skin as he moved. She lay there for a moment, luxuriating in it all.

  How in the world could she lose herself so completely, without a single inhibition, with a man she hardly knew? It boggled her brain.

  “I smell something burning,” he murmured huskily.

  “Just thinking. Why is it I feel like I’ve known you forever?”

  “Because we like each other,” he said, “and because we don’t need anything from each other either.” He rolled her over to face him, his hands sliding down her back to cup her ass, his eyes dark and hungry.

  “Not . . . anything?” she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck, making room for him between her legs.

  “Well, maybe one thing,” he said against her mouth and then went about recharging her batteries again.

  And then again, because Spence was nothing if not thorough.

  Elle slipped into Spence’s office at the ass crack of dawn the next day. But since she was carrying coffee, he forgave her the interruption. Until she spoke.

  “So who was the expensive suit with Colbie yesterday?”

  He sipped his coffee and went noncommittal.

  “Everyone’s taking guesses on what’s going on, you know. Willa and Pru think maybe Colbie’s a corporate spy trying to find out how far you’ve come with your drone project.”

  Spence raised a brow.

  “Kylie thinks maybe one of her brothers works at some news conglomerate and is pimping her out to try to catch you with your defenses down.”

  Spence shook his head and drank some more coffee.

  “Trudy and Luis think she’s after your money.”

  Spence leaned back in his chair. “And you?” he asked. “What do you think?”

  She sat on the corner of his desk, her business suit a siren kickass red today, her heels high and shiny black. “I think that . . . I don’t know what to think.”

  He laughed. “Well, there’s a first time for everything.”

  She laughed a little. “I know, right?” She shook her head. “It could still be a con, you know. It’s not like you’re being careful.”

  “And you know this how?”

  “Because you were sighted nearly getting in a fight protecting her yesterday.”

  He wasn’t surprised. The building could’ve doubled for downtown Mayberry with all the gossip and secret spilling that went on, and that included the outlying streets as well. “Maybe there’s no conspiracy,” he said. “Maybe she just really likes me.”

  Elle sighed.

  “Is it really so hard to believe that a smart, attractive woman with a sense of humor could be into me?” he asked.

  Elle straightened, bristling. “Okay, that’s not fair. There’s a lot about you to like. A lot, Spence. But face it, you’ve got a horrible track record.”

  “We all have horrible track records,” he said. “It’s what leads up to the real thing. It’s what allows you to recognize it when it shows up. As you should well know.”

  She stared at him for a beat and then acknowledged the truth of that with a sigh. “Okay, but I’m going to need you to tell me you’re not in love with her after only two-plus weeks.”

  He paused. He didn’t want to lie to her but this wasn’t a conversation he was going to have with Elle before he had it with Colbie. “Probably more lust than love.”

  Elle sighed again, this one pure relief. “Okay,” she said. “Lust is fine.”

  “Thanks for the permission.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You pay me a lot of money to keep you protected.”

  “From the press,” he said. “From the needs of this building. From the demands on my time for things you can handle. Not my love life, Elle.”

  “There’s that l-word again,” she said. “So, you know how Colbie takes notes all the time?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Tina got a peek at her laptop screen the other day at the coffee shop. Colbie had a page up about how deep you have to dig a hole to keep a dead body buried and safe from the elements.”

  He shook his head, keeping his smile to himself.

  “I know,” she said. “Kind of insane, right?” Her eyes narrowed, catching on to his amusement. “What the hell is so funny? Mrs. Winslow overheard her on the phone planning some sort of big heist. Even Finn and Sean are worried about you and you’re laughing about it.”

  “Have you talked to Archer or Joe about this?” he asked.

  “No. Archer told me to mind my own business, which obviously, I’m never going to do. I’ve been trying to get to Joe, but he’s been avoiding me like the plague, although . . . Shit,” she said, looking at her phone. “I did miss a call from him.”

  “Call him back,” Spence suggested.

  “Now?”

  “Yeah.”

  Elle pulled out her phone and hit a number. “Hey,” she said. “I—” She paused, listening. “Huh. And Archer knows this . . .?” Another pause. “Okay, thanks.” She disconnected, opened her e-mail, and thumbed through something. Two minutes later, she looked up and met Spence’s gaze. “You know.”

  “Yes. But only since the other night, if that helps.”

  Elle sank to a chair. “And Archer knows.”

  “He’s Joe’s boss, so of course he knows. He knows everything. When you sicced Joe on Colbie, what did you think would happen?”

  She shook her head. “Not this. But I guess I’m not all that surprised.” She didn’t look particularly appeased either.

  “How about sorry,” he said. “Are you sorry?”

  “Hey, it could’ve been any of a million reasons why Colbie was acting shady. I couldn’t have guessed this reason. It’s a good one though,” she admitted grudgingly. “Impressive.”

  “Hugely so.” He had to laugh. “You can’t even admit when you’re wrong, can you.”

  “I can admit when you’re wrong.” She sighed. “Dammit. You should’ve told me who she was. I’d have been . . .”

  “Nicer?” Spence asked mildly.

  She sighed. “Okay, yes. And I am sorry, but—”

  “Sorrys don’t usually have a ‘but’ after them.”

  “Fine. I was wrong,” Elle said. “And I’m sorry.”

  “Wow.” Spence smiled. “Did that hurt?”

  She ignored that. “But . . . something I wasn’t wrong about?” she asked. “Is that I can see you’re falling for her. Like really falling, Spence.”

  “I don’t fall.”

  Her expression softened. “Listen, I actually think she’s falling too.”

  “I’m not as optimistic as you.”

  That got a laugh out of her. Elle was a lot of things, but optimistic wasn’t one of them.