by Annie Rains
“That’d be great.” He followed her to the kitchen and sat on a stool at the counter.
“So, you’re patrolling Seaside on foot?” she asked, grabbing a glass and pouring filtered ice water into it. “Kind of inefficient, isn’t it?”
“I need exercise, and actually, going slower means I won’t miss details that you might when driving fifteen miles an hour down the street. I have the Seaside PD on speed dial if I see suspicious activity.” He held up his phone, then reached for the ice water. “So, what’s the favor?”
She leaned against the opposite side of the counter, holding her own glass, and met his gaze. “Well”—she shrugged—“I know how much you want to help the kids at Mercy’s Place.”
He nodded. “We didn’t raise enough for the toys?” he asked.
“Oh, we did. Julie and I bought them tonight. All except one that I couldn’t find anywhere.”
“Great. So is that the favor? You need help finding a toy?”
“Not exactly. You see, the Santa that usually delivers the toys to Mercy’s Place fell and broke his leg. And a Santa with a broken leg just won’t work. I mean, how do you haul around a big heavy bag of toys with a bum leg?”
Troy shrugged. “Get the elves to do it.”
“Or…” She hesitated, and his gut sounded the alarms.
“Oh, no. No, I’m not playing Santa if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“Just for an hour. Wear the suit. Hear the kids’ wishes. Say ho, ho, ho, and you’re out.”
Troy frowned. He was skipping Christmas this year, damn it. Except he was attending a Christmas Eve party full of Allison’s family in a few days, he’d had dinner at a Chinese food place that was decorated with holiday cheer tonight, and now his pretend girlfriend (who had red Christmas hair and mistletoe green eyes) was volunteering him up to be Santa to a bunch of orphans. It really was true: What you resist persists.
His eyes narrowed and a grin kicked up on one side of his mouth. “One condition.”
Allison lifted her brows. “Condition?”
“You’re my Mrs. Claus.”
“There is no Mrs. Claus.”
“Then there is no Santa.” He lifted the water back to his mouth and drank, enjoying how completely flustered she got when the tables were turned.
She set her glass down and folded her arms under her chest, reminding him of what was under that silk pajama top she was wearing. Not that he’d forgotten. As if reading his thoughts, she hugged her body tighter. “I guess that’s fair.”
He chuckled softly. “Fine. I’ll do it.” He took another drink, then stood. “Time to jog back and look for bad guys.” He winked. He also needed to get out of here before a repeat of the other night happened.
Bad idea.
“Be careful out there,” she said, walking him to the door.
He turned when he reached it and leveled her with a stare. “I can take care of myself.”
Her hair spilled against her cheek as she looked at him. Reflexively, he lifted his hand and brushed it away. His fingers scraped softly against her skin and she shivered under his touch. So reactive. He trailed his hand down the curve of her neck and watched the muscles there constrict as she swallowed. Her chest rose as her breaths quickened. Damn. He needed a hell of a good reason to keep his feet moving forward right now.
“Troy?”
“Yeah?” His voice came out gravelly.
She lifted her eyes and looked above the door. “We’re standing under the mistletoe.”
Ah, hell. He lifted his gaze, too. “If I kiss you I might not be able to stop this time,” he warned.
Her eyes widened. She looked away shyly and he fully expected her to tell him to leave.
Looking back up, she surprised him with her response. “No arguing with tradition. Kiss me,” she said, stepping closer.
—
Troy groaned and laughed at the same time. Then his hands moved down to Allison’s hips and he pulled her in. His mouth brushed against hers, sweet at first, but the sweetness fell away to pure desire. He tightened his hold as she opened her mouth and invited him in.
There was no way he was going to be able to walk away now.
Her fingers slid through his hair, arousing every nerve ending in his body. “I’m serious, Allison,” he growled. “I want you. Bad.”
“Then take me.” Her body pressed against his. “I’m a grown woman and I’m consenting. I won’t have any regrets.”
Heat tore through his veins.
“Consenting to what?” He needed to hear her say it. He didn’t like the idea of things getting messy between them, which is exactly what sex did. He wasn’t sure he had the willpower to walk away from her again, though.
“You. Me. Naked. Everything.”
“Say it,” he urged.
“I’m consenting to sex.” She opened her eyes and pulled away to look at him. Her eyes were lit with undeniable desire. “I don’t get physical with guys that I’m not in a relationship with. But technically, kind of, we are in a relationship.” She chewed her lip. “Enough of one for me to find this completely acceptable. Because it’s been a long time.”
“How long?” he asked, so hard for her.
“Eighteen months. Two weeks. One day.”
He lifted his brow. “But who’s counting, right?”
She gave him a little shove toward the bedroom. “I am.”
—
Allison wanted Troy so much that she was shaking. She needed a man to meet her needs, electronics be damned. And not just any man. She needed Troy.
She fell on the bed beneath him and pulled him on top of her, hungry suddenly, starving, for his every touch. She kissed him, whimpering with need. That composure she worked so hard to maintain crumbled in the wake of his hands.
He sat up and took off his shirt, revealing a smooth, muscled chest. She ran her hands along the muscles. Then he pulled her to sit up and removed her shirt and bra, kissing her neck and collarbone as he laid her back again, and drank her in with his eyes.
She reached for the jogging pants he was wearing. “Take these off,” she said, surprising herself.
Troy stood momentarily and did as she asked. He stripped his clothing off until he was naked in front of her. She couldn’t help staring; his body was so beautiful, and big. She pushed out of her pajama pants, too, leaving nothing to separate them except her silk panties. She started to remove those, but he stopped her, climbing back on top. He traced a calloused finger along the lace border and then he tugged them down her thighs, past her calves, and tossed them to the floor below. Climbing back up her body, he paused at the apex of her legs, lowered himself, and dipped his tongue to her most sensitive places.
Allison arched. Her eyes closed and the sensation of Troy’s mouth on her consumed her. All that composure was gone, nowhere in sight, and it might never return. Not with Troy around, at least. His hands squeezed her thighs, pushing them up beyond her hips as he slid his tongue inside her. She was used to a repetitive, very predictable pulse of a man-made machine. Troy was anything but predictable, though, as he sucked her center into his mouth, leaving her breathless and panting, chanting his name over and over without any control of her words, thoughts, actions. And then she arched harder, deeper. His handle on her became firmer as she came in his arms. Pulling her hands to her chest, she willed her heart to slow down. Willed some of her composure to return.
She shuddered again as Troy slowly climbed back up her body, lingering at her breasts before sprinkling kisses over her jaw and up to her ear. “Is your answer still yes?” he asked.
“Mmmm.” She sighed, wrapping a leg around him and holding him prisoner. He wasn’t going anywhere. A thought crossed her mind and her desire stuttered. “Condom. Do you have—?”
“In my wallet.” He pulled away and retrieved a silver wrapper from the pocket of his jogging jacket. She wouldn’t find any wrapped item she liked better under her tree this Christmas.
“Thank God.” She
watched as he slipped it on and her body surged with new desire. This was going to happen and she wasn’t even the least bit sorry about it.
“Hey, baby,” he said, pulling her away from her thoughts. “Come back to me.”
She blinked. With a smile, she said, “I don’t mind when you call me baby in bed.”
He cocked his head. “We should spend more time together in bed then.”
She grinned. Then she melted under him as he kissed her again, pressing his erection between her legs until she was begging. “Now. Please now.”
“I want to hear you call me baby,” he said.
One eye cracked open. “You’re so bad.”
“Good thing I’m playing Santa this year. I decide who makes the list.” He pressed his erection against her again. “Say it.”
“Baby.” She laughed as the word left her lips.
“Again.” He laughed with her, teasing her.
“Baby.”
“That’s right.” Giving her what she wanted, he entered her, setting off a million sensations like fireworks inside her. Yeah. This was what she’d been missing for eighteen months, two weeks, and one day.
She curled her legs around his waist and pulled him deeper inside her. She wanted him to consume her, until she was free of thought, worry, fear. There was no room for any of that with Troy. In his arms she felt safe, wanted, desired.
“Oh, baby,” she moaned, not laughing this time. This time she meant it.
—
Troy felt a momentary pinch of panic. He was lying in Allison’s bed. Which was exactly where he’d wanted to be when his dick was in charge. Now that his brain was working again, he was worried. This wasn’t a real relationship that they were in. But sex complicated things. There might be feelings involved now. Expectations.
Allison rolled over and propped her head up with her elbow. Her red hair spilled around her face as she met his eyes. “That was amazing.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. It truly had been amazing. He wished he could just bask in that feeling rather than the guilt that was slowly infiltrating his brain.
“And I don’t regret a single moment.”
Troy raised his brows. “Better than the purple thing in that drawer?” he asked, teasingly.
“So much better.” She sat up, dragging the bedsheet with her to cover her body. Then she reached for her pajama top and pulled it overhead.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting dressed so I can drive you home. It’s late. You shouldn’t jog back tonight. Besides, you just had quite a workout.”
Troy blinked. If he didn’t know better, he’d think he was getting kicked out of Allison’s bed. He’d been inside her not five minutes ago. Most women would want him to hold them, to lie together while they basked in the aftermath of their orgasm.
He watched Allison yank on a pair of jeans, shimmying them over her hips.
“A silk pajama top and jeans?” One side of his mouth hooked upward.
“Midnight fashion,” she said, standing and disappearing into the bathroom.
He started to dress, too, trying to be glad about this turn of events. This meant that there were no strings attached to the sex they’d just had. No expectations. Good.
Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail when she returned and led him down the hallway toward the front door. She grabbed her keys and looked at him.
“What?” he asked.
“Do you mind turning? I don’t want you to see my code….”
He placed his hands on his hips. “Afraid I’ll abuse my code-holding privileges?”
She shrugged and gestured for him to turn. Then she set the alarm and they left. Five minutes post-sex and they were in her car. Troy wasn’t quite sure what to think about that.
“So,” he said, breaking the silence.
“We don’t need to talk about it.” She glanced over. “I know what it was. It was sex between two adults. That’s all.”
He nodded. Those words should’ve been music to his ears, except it felt like a kick to his nuts. The alpha male in him needed her to at least label that sex in the-best-sex-of-my-life, knocked-my-socks-off category.
“So about Saturday. We’ll attend Mercy’s Place in the afternoon. Then we can return home, freshen up, and go to my family’s party. We’ll probably stay there for a couple hours and then be done.” She turned down his road. “Which house is yours?”
“All the way down. Last one on the left.”
“You can pick me up at a quarter to three for the thing at Mercy’s Place. Thanks for doing that again.” She was talking a mile a minute, consuming the space between them.
He laid a hand on her forearm as she pulled into his driveway. “I enjoyed tonight,” he said, taking on a serious tone. “A lot. And I don’t have any regrets, either,” he said.
The muscles of her neck constricted as she swallowed.
“You knocked my socks off, baby.”
She opened her mouth, but her objection paused on her lips.
“I can only call you that in bed, I know.” He swept her hair behind her ear.
“And I doubt we’ll find ourselves in that situation again.”
He nodded—another kick to his nuts. “That’s too bad.”
“Because after Saturday we’ll be over,” she told him. Her chin lifted just slightly as his hand lingered on the wisps of hair framing her face.
“So you keep reminding me. But there are a whole lot of days between now and then.” Troy leaned forward, keeping his eyes on hers, wanting to kiss her again. He really wanted to carry her inside and discover her body again, in his bed this time. He couldn’t get enough of those little noises she made when he touched her. He leaned in and brushed his mouth over hers, keeping the kiss sweet.
“G’night.” He opened the car door and stepped out. Then she backed up her car and was gone. He felt oddly alone as he entered his house and locked the door behind him. Maybe he would’ve liked to have held her a little longer after sex. Maybe he would’ve liked to even watch her fall asleep on his arm. Not his usual MO.
He walked down the dark hall and laid down in his bed. Alone. This was his usual MO. It didn’t suit him tonight, however. Not one freaking bit.
—
Troy got to work at zero seven hundred the next morning, walked into his office, and stared at the newest little Christmas tree decorating his desk. This one was fiber optic, with colorful wires rotating colors.
Troy slid his gaze over to Griffin, who was working at his desk and pretending not to notice that Troy had entered the room. Instead of scooping up the tree and planting it in the trash can or on the opposite side of the room this time, Troy moved it to the corner of his work area and sat down. The tree could stay. He was feeling a little bit merrier this morning, thanks to one cheerful redhead.
Griffin turned and looked at him after a moment. “That’s a change.”
Troy shrugged one shoulder and pulled some overdue paperwork in front of him. “I’ve realized there’s no fighting Christmas. It’s too powerful.”
Griffin laughed. “Especially in Seaside. These are some Christmas-loving people around here.”
Troy nodded. “And, since I’m going to be playing Santa at Mercy’s Place on Saturday, I kind of have to adjust my attitude.”
Griffin leaned back in his seat and folded his arms over his chest as he laughed. “You? Santa?”
“The usual guy broke his leg.”
Griffin laughed some more. “And how in the world did you get reeled in to doing it…? Oh, wait. Allison reeled you in, right?” He nodded to himself, tapping his pointer finger on his chin thoughtfully. “And you couldn’t tell her no because you have a little thing for her.”
Troy kept his eyes on the paperwork.
“So it’s true. You like her.”
“She’s a nice woman,” Troy said, keeping his comments neutral.
“Pretty hot, too.”
Troy narrowed his gaze. “Don’t let Val hear you say s
o.”
Griffin pointed a finger. “Right there. You like Allison and you don’t want anyone looking at her. You’ve marked her.”
Troy choked on his own laugh. “Spending too much damn time with the dogs, buddy,” Troy said, standing. “I didn’t ‘mark’ Allison. She’s not my territory,” he said. And she’d made sure he knew that last night. Last night was just about sex and this weekend was just about satisfying her family. There was nothing else between them, even if it was true. He did like Allison. She was funny and smart, sexy, and just about the most perfect woman he’d ever met. “She doesn’t want a relationship,” he told Griffin. “And neither do I.”
Griffin grinned. “Gee, this sounds really familiar. Wasn’t I saying the same thing just a couple months ago? There’s no fighting Christmas and there’s no fighting love.”
“Who said anything about love?” Troy shook his head. “Tease me while you can because Allison and I are done after this weekend.”
“Sure you are.” Griffin returned to the work on his desk.
Troy held his tongue and headed toward the kitchen. He needed a cup of coffee to clear his head. As he walked he whistled “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” Christmas had won. Griffin was wrong, though. He wasn’t going to fall in love with Allison. He’d fight that tooth and nail. Especially since it was clear she wouldn’t be taking the fall with him.
Chapter 11
Just don’t get attached, Allison told herself, sitting behind her desk the next morning. It was the Wednesday before Christmas. A traditionally busy week, and she’d managed to check off a lot on her to-do list despite the memories of last night’s great, earth-shattering, toe-curling sex with Troy.
Getting attached meant having her heart broken, she reminded herself. Been there, done that, didn’t want to do it again. She focused on the wish list for the children at Mercy’s Place. There was only one item she’d yet to find. Little Lucy wanted a special baby doll named Feed Me Betty. Allison hadn’t been able to find it anywhere; not even in the catchall toy store in Seaside.
She shoved the list into her purse and decided that since it was almost lunchtime she’d head out of the Veterans’ Center for a little toy shopping and a quick bite to eat. As she walked out into the parking lot, she froze. A certain tall, sexy Marine she was determined not to get attached to was standing beside her car.
