All I Want for Christmas...: Christmas KissesBaring It AllA Hot December Night

by Lori Wilde

  Noah’s touch immediately stirred something inside. They made their way up the sidewalk, past a lighted toy train, faux packages, and a red-nosed reindeer. They passed under the candy-cane archway leading to her front porch. Santa waved from the roof as blue icicle lights blinked off and on.

  Okay, maybe she did tend to go overboard at Christmas, but she loved this time of year.

  They stopped at her door.

  Noah dropped her hand.

  She should have mumbled good-night, darted inside, but instead...oh dammit...instead of doing that, she met his gaze.

  His eyes were the color of obsidian, dark and unfathomable, his jaw beard-stubbled. His shaggy hair was mussed. He needed a haircut. But even so, he looked devilishly sexy. She couldn’t help comparing this strong, rugged man to pretty boy Gunter. There was no comparison. She’d take broody and tortured over perfect any day. Noah had depth and breadth that Gunter could never have. For better or worse, his hard life had formed him, shellacked a hard shell over a tender heart.

  And, damn her, she wanted nothing more than to hammer through that shell, expose the vulnerable man beneath the gruff exterior.

  Noah propped one arm against the doorframe just above her head and for a second, they just stood there, silhouetted by the lights of the buoyant Christmas ornaments. His gaze hung on her mouth.

  Alana’s heart throbbed.

  Noah made a rough sound low in his throat and lowered his head, angular lips parting as his arms went around her. Helplessly, Alana dropped her purse and lifted her arms, wrapping them around Noah’s neck.

  His mouth burned hers with a sensual heat. His erection pressed against her thigh, hard and urgent. Alana’s body responded, softening in all the right places. He ran a palm over her hair, murmured her name in a raspy bass that sent quivers of desire straight through her.

  Her knees could scarcely hold her up. She’d wanted him for months. Dreamed of finishing what they’d started that night in the back seat of his SUV.

  “Noah,” she gasped, her mind reeling. She thought of all the reasons this was a very bad idea, but her body didn’t care. Need burned inside her, hot and insistent.

  “Alana.” He breathed.

  She fumbled for her purse, scooped it up. Searched inside for her house key. Her fingers trembled as she struggled to stab the key into the lock. She could feel Noah standing behind her, wondered what he was thinking.

  The door swung inward. She stepped over the threshold. Turned back to him.

  He swayed on her step, looking uncertain.

  Then Alana reached out, slapped her hand on his chest, wadded his shirt in her fist and pulled him into the house with her.

  6

  AT THIS POINT, Noah wasn’t even thinking. He was pure reaction. He kicked the door closed behind him. Locked it. Bending, he scooped Alana off her feet. She was a feather in his arms.

  “Ooo!” she exclaimed.

  “Where’s your bedroom?” he growled.

  “End of the hall,” she said, her voice high and breathless.

  His shoes echoed against her hardwood floors. His heart thumped. His blood pumped. The door to her bedroom was slightly ajar. He nudged it wider with his knee. Inside a Santa Claus nightlight lit the way.

  He carefully lowered her to her feet.

  “Alana,” he spoke her name again, unable to wrap his head around the fact that he was here in her bedroom at last. He’d been dreaming of this for months.

  “Stop talking,” she said, “and kiss me.”

  How could a man argue with that? He’d spent so many years keeping his emotions on a chain that they just boiled over, refusing to be contained one second longer.

  He kissed her like he’d never kissed anyone. Long and hard and with all the feelings he’d been denying. Letting his actions say what words could not. I want you. I need you. I’ve got to have you, no matter what the consequences. His hands moved to her breasts, too abrupt, yes, but he itched to touch the soft mounds beneath the silky black dress.

  Her delicate hands slipped underneath his jacket, slid up across his back, burning hot trails of sensation through his cotton shirt, searing his skin.

  He paused to wrench off his jacket, toss it aside. The room smelled of Christmas cookies, fresh baked and delicious. He pulled her close again, kneed her legs apart. Her dress rose up as she straddled his thigh, the fabric of his slacks rubbing against her bare legs. A sweet gasp of pleasure escaped her lips.

  She worked the buttons of his shirt and Noah surrendered any last shred of resistance—letting go of his need to control, yielding to temptation, allowing his libido full rein.

  They tore at each other’s clothing as if frantically unwrapping Christmas presents, desperate to see what lay inside the pretty packages. She yanked at his shirt. Buttons popped. His fingers found the zipper of her dress and whisked it down. In a flurry of activity, they stripped each other naked.

  Panting, they stood looking at each other in the glow of the Santa Claus nightlight, their chests heaving in simultaneous breaths. Looking at her, left Noah both shaky and bold, pushing him over the edge into dangerous territory.

  In that moment, he could have backed out. Should have backed out, but she didn’t give him a chance to reconsider. Her hands were all over him—her mouth, too. Noah was lost in a sea of kisses, heat and giving feminine flesh.

  She clung to his shoulders, her fingernails sinking into his skin. He kissed her lips, her chin and the hollow of her throat. She tasted of salt and woman. She arched her back, pressed urgently against him. Igniting a blaze deep inside Noah.

  His reaction throbbed, begging for release. He’d better slow things down or he wouldn’t last five minutes. He untangled her arms from his neck, rolled her over on her back and settled her into the down comforter. He gazed down at her, stunned by her beauty. Her glorious auburn hair spread out across plump pillows.

  Lowering his head, Noah pressed his lips to her bare belly and then kissed his way back up to her nipples. She quivered beneath his lips. “Do you like that?”

  “Mmm,” she said in a sultry whisper and laced her fingers through his hair.

  He flicked his tongue over one straining nipple and gently nibbled. Her exquisite sound of enjoyment sent reedy blades of pleasure slicing through his solar plexus. When she reached up to strum the pads of her thumbs over his nipples, she had him doing a little moaning of his own.

  “Do you like that?” she whispered.

  “No,” he said.

  “What?” She paused, looking alarmed.

  “I love it.”

  She grinned and went back to what she was doing with her mouth, tongue and fingers. After a long, leisurely exploration that left him hauling in shallow gasps of air, she left his nipples and her hand traveled downward. She stroked his abs, traced her fingertips over his taut muscles. The tickling sensation produced crazy, erotic ripples in his belly that undulated all the way down to his groin.

  When her fingers grazed his straining erection, she stopped just short of touching his throbbing tip. Her breath was hot against his flesh, inflaming him. Completely undone, Noah groaned.

  He stroked and caressed and kissed her until he’d worked them both into a fevered pitch. He couldn’t stand one more second not being joined with her.

  Alana arched her hips upward, issuing an invitation he could not deny.

  “Hang on, sweetheart,” he said, leaping off the bed for his pants and grabbing the condom in his wallet. Spurred by pure male instinct, he rushed back to the bed, ripping open the wrapper with his teeth.

  “Let me help.” She took the condom from him. Rolled it on his rock-hard shaft. Then she dropped open her legs, welcoming him to her.

  Noah sank into her delicious heat, stunned by how good she felt. How good they felt linked together. They moved as one, knocking pillows to the floor, thumping the headboard against the wall, squeaking the bedsprings with energetic force.

  He struggled to hold onto his release, determined she wou
ld go first and when she cried out his name and shuddered in his arms, his need crested, crashed. He followed right behind her, his breathing ragged and rough.

  They collapsed against the pillows. Alana held her arm against her waist, her chest rising and falling in jagged jerks. Noah’s entire body tingled. He reached over, pulled her to him, held her tight.

  He had so many things to say to her. So many things, in fact, that his mind clogged and words evaded him. Nothing he could say seemed adequate to match what he was feeling. He loved being with her. This was great. Better than great. No regrets. No guilt. But damn, he hadn’t meant for this to happen.

  What did it mean? Where did they go from here?

  Ah, hell. He gulped, cradled her against his chest and then slowly told her about his childhood. About the night his mother had died saving him from the house fire. About his life in foster homes.

  She never said a word, just let him talk. She hugged him tight and he held her until her eyelids drooped and closed, and her breathing slowed to a steady rhythm. Her head was just below his nose and he could smell the sweet fragrance of her perfume. He kept holding her long after she went to sleep.

  Tomorrow there would be expectations. He’d have to deal with the consequences of tonight. But for now, he was in no rush for morning.

  He lay there long into the night, enjoying the pressure of her head on his chest, knowing it felt too good to be true. It would be so easy to close his eyes and fall asleep in her bed.

  Too damn easy. Spending the night would a send a message that he wasn’t sure he wanted to send. What was he supposed to do?

  Finally, Noah eased out from under her. He stood there a moment, with the gray pre-dawn light oozing through the sheer curtains, watching her sleep. He wanted to crawl back in bed beside her and hold her for a hundred years, but something wouldn’t let him.

  Instead, he gently tucked the covers around her and kissed her temple. “I’m sorry, Alana,” he whispered. “But it’s better this way. You deserve much more than I have to give.”

  Feeling like he’d just torn his own heart from his chest, Noah quickly got dressed and quietly slipped away.

  * * *

  ALANA TRIED TO tell herself that she wasn’t disappointed when she woke at eight-thirty to find cold sheets on Noah’s side of the bed. He was long gone.

  Had she really expected more from him? He’d told her about his childhood. He was probably very rattled about laying himself bare and wanted to put as much distance between them as possible.

  No, she had not expected even that much from him. What she had expected was more from herself. She’d known what she was getting into. This knot of disappointment should not be lying heavily in her stomach. Noah was who he was, and she couldn’t change him.

  She wasn’t sorry she’d slept with him, but she did feel a bit deflated. She’d started to have hopes of something she had no business hoping. Not with Noah. He’d never lied to her about who he was or what he wanted. The unrealistic expectations were totally hers.

  It’s okay. It’s all right. Nothing wrong with a casual fling. Except she’d wanted so much more.

  There. That was the problem. She and Noah wanted different things. Alana wanted a relationship and he...

  Well, she had no idea what Noah wanted.

  She got up, moving stiffly because of the sweet ache between her legs and took a shower. She got dressed, padded into the kitchen. She made breakfast and sat at the table, looking out over her backyard. Loneliness seeped into her bones. Resolutely, she pushed the feeling aside.

  Her doorbell rang and her heart leapt. Noah! He’d come back.

  She scurried to the door, opened it to find a man in a mechanic’s shirt holding a tablet computer and her car keys.

  “Alana O’Hara?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve brought your car back to you. If you could just sign here.” He held out the computer for an electronic signature.

  She put a hand to her throat. “I don’t understand.”

  “Noah Briscoe called me before dawn,” he said. “Asked me to get out of bed, go to the police station and retrieve your vehicle. Said it was a rush job. Paid extra for me to get to work right away. It’s parked in your driveway.”

  “Noah paid to have my car fixed?”

  “Yes, ma’am. He thinks you’re something special.”

  “He does?”

  “I’ve been his mechanic for six years and I’ve never seen him like this.”

  “Like what?” Alana took the tablet he extended. Signed her name. Handed it back.

  The mechanic smiled. “Head over heels.”

  “He’s not head over heels for me,” she corrected.

  “He might not say it. Noah’s tight-lipped.” The man nodded. “But he shows it. Whenever he says your name his face lights up like a kid on Christmas.”

  A car horn tooted from the curb.

  “Gotta go,” the mechanic said. “That’s my ride back to the shop.”

  “Thanks,” Alana said and absentmindedly closed her door. Was it true? Could Noah really be head of over heels for her? Fresh hope rose up inside her, but she didn’t want to deceive herself about their chances.

  When she got to work, Dwight Jacoby met her in the lobby.

  “They’ve officially arrested Teague Price for arson. Apparently new evidence has come to light and it’s pretty damning. C’mon. Let’s head over to the jail,” he said, taking her by the elbow.

  The second she saw Noah again, her stomach hitched. Their eyes met across the interrogation room table and she didn’t hear a single word anyone said as she struggled to get a read on Noah.

  He was totally closed off, body stiff, jaw set, shoulders squared. He gave no indication of what they’d shared the night before. He kept his expression neutral, everything focused on the interview. Of course, he was a professional. This was a job situation. He would not let on how he felt.

  Still, his impervious stare sent an icy breeze over her.

  Talk about mixed messages. On the one hand, he’d gotten up early and paid to have her car repaired. His actions—and what his mechanic told her—seemed to indicate that she was special to him. But his standoffish body language said something else entirely.

  It wasn’t until Dwight’s hand touched her shoulder that Alana realized the interview was over and Teague Price was being led to a cell.

  “You’re a million miles away,” Dwight said when as they left the interrogation room together. Alana had to force herself not to give Noah a parting glance over her shoulder. “Is something eating at you?”

  Yes! Noah Briscoe. “He’s guilty, isn’t he?” She nodded in the direction the jailer had propelled Teague Price.

  “Probably,” Dwight said. “But our job is to mount the best defense.”

  “Even when we know for certain our clients are guilty?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you ever feel wrong about that? Helping guilty people get off?”

  “Everyone is entitled to a fair defense. It’s the prosecution’s job to prove their case. If I’m better at my job than they are...” Dwight shrugged, held out his palms. “I win.”

  “Even though a criminal is free to roam the streets?’

  Dwight paused, gave her a hard look. “You thinking about switching sides, Alana?”

  She raised her chin. “I believe maybe I am.”

  “Why the attack of conscience?”

  “My thinking has started shifting lately.”

  “Since you’ve been keeping company with a certain police officer?” Dwight raised his eyebrows. “Are you going to let a cop lure you to the dark side?”

  She thought about the evening in the diner when Dwight had taken the Clausen case away from her so he could grandstand for the media. Her conversation that night with Noah was when her ideology had started to shift. She wanted to be on Noah’s side. To help put the bad guys behind bars, not set them free.

  “Yes,” she said simply. “I am.”
>
  “It’s just a phase you’re going through,” Dwight said. “Give it some time before you make a big decision like that. Don’t base your career on a romantic fantasy.”

  “Alana,” Noah called to her just as she and Dwight reached the exit. “Could I have a word with you?”

  Heart pounding, she halted.

  “I’ll see you back at the office,” Dwight said. “Remember, this is your future. Don’t let your heart lead your head astray.” He went out the door, leaving her alone in the corridor with Noah.

  Her gut twisted when she saw he was frowning. “Hello,” she said breathlessly, stupidly, as if they just hadn’t spent the last twenty minutes together in interrogation.

  “Did you get your car back okay?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Thank you for arranging the repairs for me. I’ll pay you back.”

  He waved a hand, but did not meet her gaze directly. “The car repairs are an apology.”

  “What—”

  “Last night, I was completely out of line.”

  Was he apologizing for slipping out on her this morning? It was okay. She understood. Forgave him.

  “We should never have... I should never have...” He paused. “Taken advantage of you the way I did.”

  He was withdrawing, backpedalling. He hadn’t had her car fixed because she was special to him, but because he felt guilty. Stricken, Alana caught her breath. She was a good enough lawyer not to let her true feelings show. Couldn’t let him see how he was wounding her. Besides, she’d known that Noah had issues. Making him feel badly about the situation was not the solution.

  Determined to appear casual, she laughed. “Oh, Noah, don’t beat yourself up. Last night was lots of fun, but I’ve got no expectations of anything more from you.”

  He splayed a palm to the nape of his neck. “You don’t?”

  “No.” She shook her head, even though her heart was breaking. “I do like spending time with you, but it doesn’t have to mean anything.”

  “It doesn’t?” He looked confused.

  “Listen, I’ll give you some time to think about whether you’d like to have a full-fledged fling or if one night together was enough. The Firemen’s Ball is Christmas Eve. If you show up, we can spend the evening together. If not...” She shrugged. “No hard feelings.”