White Hot Holidays 2: Wish List

by Sylvia Day

  Damn it, she didn’t need this right now! A relationship was completely out of the question on a good day, but to fall for a guy who had “temporary” written all over him was just plain stupid. Hadn’t she learned anything at all from her years with Tom?

  Apparently not.

  When dinner was done, she was going home. They’d both gotten what they wanted.

  It was time to minimize the damage.

  * * * * *

  “That was wonderful.”

  Steph smiled at Nick as she set her fork down, not the least bit concerned that she’d cleaned her plate. They’d eaten together many times over the last year and after the first time he’d praised her hearty appetite, she’d ceased being concerned about appearances.

  “You’re either too generous or you were really hungry.” He stood and picked up her plate from the small oak dining table. Featuring a pine centerpiece lit by three red tapers, it was both inviting and unexpected. There was so much about him she didn’t know. But she wanted to learn. Nick wasn’t good relationship material, but he was a fascinating guy, a great lawyer and a good friend from what she’d heard.

  She watched him walk into the kitchen, his fine ass flexing as he took each step. Occasional glimpses of his cock and balls kept her hot, and she grabbed her napkin to dab at the fine sheen of sweat that misted her forehead. He was also a fantastic and generous lover, but then she’d always suspected that and heard innuendo to the same.

  The urge to bolt she’d felt in the bathroom earlier was now suddenly overwhelming.

  It was time to go.

  Standing, she reached for her duffle. It was rude to leave without offering to clean, but maybe a little animosity between them would be a good thing.

  “What are you doing?” he asked behind her, the volume of his voice telling her that he was still some distance away.

  “I’m going to head out,” she said with forced casualness, even as her heart raced. “Thanks for a great evening.”

  Suddenly, she was crowded into the table from behind by a very hard body. “Talk to me, Steph.” His palms flattened on the surface, caging her in place.

  “We’ve been talking all through dinner.”

  “About everything except us.”

  “There is no ‘us’.”

  One of his hands reached into the pocket of her skirt.

  “How many condoms did you bring? Feels like you’ve got half a dozen in here.” He tossed one onto the tabletop. “You were planning for a busy night. Now, all of a sudden, you’re done?”

  “Yeah, well.” She took a deep breath. “I didn’t expect you to be so good. You took care of things the first go-round.”

  “Bullshit. You’re as hot for it now as you were when you jumped me.” Wrapping a hand around her throat, he tilted her head back. He nipped her ear with his teeth and she shivered. “What’s got you running scared?”

  She stiffened. “I’m not scared. I just think we both got what we wanted and it’s best to end the night before it gets complicated.”

  “Guess what?” Nick bent his knees and rubbed the hard length of his cock between the cheeks of her ass. Somewhere between the kitchen and the dining room he’d lost the apron. With only the thin layer of her gauze skirt between them, she felt every millimeter of his arousal. “I’m not finished getting what I wanted and it’s already complicated.”

  “Nick…” Her eyes closed on a whimper as he cupped the weight of one breast. Heat flared across her skin. She was suddenly more than hot, she was burning up, melting. He smelled like heaven and felt even better. She’d had a ton of daydreams about him, but they’d always been raw. Carnal. Fucking on her desk or his. Buttons flying everywhere. Rough hands and bruising lips. Never had there been this gentleness, this concern for her feelings and pleasure.

  “You had a wish list, Steph. Fantasies about me. Tell me why you don’t want to live them out anymore.” The pads of his fingers brushed across her nipple and it peaked into a hard, aching tip.

  “Fantasies aren’t meant to come true.”

  “Mine did. Yours too.”

  “That’s the problem,” she muttered.

  His hand left her breast and lifted her skirt, bunching it in his fists. She should stop him, wiggle away. He wouldn’t keep her against her will, despite the forearm that crossed between her breasts and the grip that held her neck. But the energy she needed to escape just wasn’t there. It had been so long since she’d been held with such tender lust, she didn’t have the heart to reject it.

  “Did I become too real?” he breathed in her ear. “Do you like me, Steph? Just a little?”

  A little too much.

  Cool air hit her buttocks the moment before he stepped closer. His cock was so hard, so hot against her skin.

  His open mouth nuzzled against her throat. “Stay with me.” Reaching beneath her skirt, he parted her and stroked her clit. A soft fluttering touch, circling then pressing. Rubbing. “Be with me.”

  “Nick.” Her eyes drifted closed on a soft moan. She was wet, nearly soaked, and she ached for him. She was starving for the affection he gave so freely. It scared her how needy she was. Until tonight, she hadn’t realized how lonely her life had become.

  “Open the packet,” he urged, his voice like rough silk.

  She reached blindly for the condom, steeling the reserve she’d had when she arrived. Enjoy him, her heart said, and she would. One last time.

  “We’re so good together, Steph.” Nudging her legs apart, he slipped two fingers inside her, moving in and out in a deep glide. “In every way that matters.” The hand at her throat lowered to cup her breast again. It was heavier, full with desire for him. Expert fingers stroked over her nipple, pinched it, fondled it through her thin shirt and satin bra. That teasing touch radiated outward and left her gasping.

  “Here.” She thrust her arm back with the open packet in her hand.

  Nick reached for the condom with shaking fingers. Steph had been ready to leave. More than ready. She’d been nearly out the door. And he knew in his gut if he couldn’t get through to her before she left, he never would.

  “Bend over,” he said gruffly.

  When his fingers left her soaked pussy, she made a soft sound of protest. “Hush,” he soothed, pushing gently until she bent across the table. “Let me give you my cock instead.”

  He stared at the erotic view as he sheathed himself in latex. All the times he’d watched her at work and thought lewdly, he’d never quite pictured the view correctly. Her lips were flushed, swollen, glistening. He wanted to lick her again and did, a quick swipe of his tongue that had her writhing. Taking himself in hand, he used the tip of his cock to tease her clit, to make her cream, to see her squirm for him.

  And then he caught her hips and slid deep into her.

  “Oh my God!” she breathed, her fingers scratching at his table.

  Her cunt was burning hot and tight as a fist. “Fuck, yeah,” he groaned, his balls drawn up tight and aching. He withdrew and watched his thick shaft slide out of her, slick with her arousal, and then groaned as he pressed back in. Holding her hips, he stared at the place where they joined, arrested by the sight of him fucking her as he’d wanted to for so long.

  “Nick.”

  The sound of his name spoken so morosely tugged at his heart. Hunching forward, he laced his fingers with hers and began thrusting in short shallow digs, his stomach rippling against her lower back. Her pleading gasps goaded him, incited him to bend his knees so he could stroke her pussy high and hard with the broad head of his cock.

  With his cheek at her shoulder, he asked, “How can you give this up, Steph?”

  She answered with a whimper and then hitched her hips up higher so he could pump deeper. Widening his legs, he gave her the long deep plunges that made her moan helplessly and drove him crazy. He released her hands, moving one of his to cup her breast and the other to pin her hips in place so he could swivel his pelvis and screw his cock through her grasping ripples.


  “Give me a chance,” he gasped, shuddering with the need to come, with the need to keep her close until he could change her mind.

  “You don’t…know…”

  Reaching beneath her, he pinched her clit and thrust balls deep. With a cry she came, clutching his cock in her depths, milking him in a sensual massage. “Give me a chance, damn you.”

  Her “yes” was a whisper, but he heard it. His release was silent, his teeth gritted, his cock jerking as it pumped his cum into her.

  He should have felt relief. He should have felt some sense of security.

  But he didn’t.

  Chapter Four

  It was the sounds of shuffling paper that woke her. Stretching on the black leather sofa, Steph opened her eyes and turned her head to find Nick wrapping gifts. Or trying to.

  “You’re mangling that wrap job,” she murmured, vaguely remembering being lifted in the dining room and carried to the couch. The fire still crackled merrily, music still played softly. Despite the fact she was in a strange place, it felt like home.

  Dressed in worn gray sweatpants, Nick sat within touching distance. He twisted at the waist and tossed his arm over her legs. “I’m trying not to, but the more effort I put into it, the worse I seem to do.”

  “Need some help?”

  He nodded and gave her a boyish smile. With evening stubble along his jaw and finger-mussed hair, he was almost too gorgeous. Angled toward her like he was, the beautifully defined muscles of his chest and arms stood out in stark relief. She hesitated and then gave in to the urge to touch his hair. It was thick and silky, making her shiver with renewed desire. Then he turned his head to kiss her wrist and her stomach did a little flip.

  It was going to take her a long time to get over him.

  Blowing out a resigned breath, she sat up and maneuvered herself into position straddling his back. He leaned into her and yawned. Shooting a glance at the clock on the mantle, she saw it was two in the morning.

  “Being tired might be the reason you’re not wrapping well,” she said dryly. “Why don’t you go to sleep and we’ll go over how to wrap in the morning?”

  He linked his arms around her calves and looked at her upside down. “If I go to sleep, will you still be here in the morning?”

  “Oh, Nick.” Steph leaned her cheek against the top of his head. “Don’t be silly.”

  “You’re talking to a guy who cooked dinner naked.”

  Nuzzling her mouth into his hair, she changed the subject. “Do you have double-sided tape?”

  “Huh? That sounds kinky.”

  She laughed and fell a little in love. “For your presents.”

  “Oh… Bummer. No. Just the regular clear stuff.”

  “Okay, sex maniac.” She looked over his shoulder. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  He turned his head and kissed her cheek.

  Her heart clenched, and she had to clear her throat before she spoke. “You have too much paper on the ends. That’s why it’s hard for you to fold them without bunching it up.”

  Nick took up the scissors and cut. “Like that? Is that enough?”

  “Yeah.” She slipped her arms beneath his and demonstrated how to tuck the corners. “Now put some tape right there.”

  “Here?” His voice had deepened. With her breasts pressed to his back and her nose by his throat, their position was unbearably intimate.

  “That’s perfect,” she breathed, releasing the gift and drawing back. He caught her hands before they left his lap.

  Cupping her hands over his pecs, Nick whispered, “Touch me.”

  She swallowed hard as his skin heated under her hands. The tips of her fingers found the flat points of his nipples and rubbed gently. Groaning, his arms fell to his sides.

  He leaned his head back into her lap and the sight of his face lost in pleasure was too much for her. Steph looked away, taking in the glass-topped coffee table, the flat-screen TV and the bare Christmas tree by the sliding glass door.

  “Don’t you have any ornaments?” she asked.

  “No.” His voice was a low whisper of sound. “I bought the tree for you and forgot the damn ornaments.”

  Her hands stilled. “For me?” Oh my God, I’m going to cry.

  “Yeah, I knew from that notepad of yours and the little tree on your desk that you must really like Christmas. I do too, but since I’m going to my sister’s for holiday dinner, I hadn’t bought one for myself. For you, though, I figured it wouldn’t be much of a Christmas wish if it didn’t feel like Christmas around here.”

  Wiggling around, she switched from straddling his back to straddling his hips. Face to face, they stared at each other.

  “I’m sorry I forgot the ornaments,” he said.

  And then he cupped the back of her neck and kissed her.

  Unlike the deep possessive kiss he’d given her in her office, this kiss was coaxing, his lips brushing, his tongue flicking softly. Steph wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back with everything she had. In gratitude. In lust. In love.

  She pulled away and gasped, “What do you want for Christmas?”

  “This. You. Making love with you.” He rocked his hips and she felt how aroused he was.

  A gift that required no wrapping. No words. She lifted her skirt, he tugged down his sweats. She sheathed him. First in latex, then with her body. He groaned, she cried out. They moved together, without the haste that had marked their previous encounters. Her hands on his bare shoulders, she took him deep, rising and falling in tempo with the sounds he made. Clenching her muscles to stroke his thick length. Pulling off her shirt and bra to press her bare skin to his.

  “I’ve wanted you,” he said hoarsely, guiding her hips with shaking hands. “So badly… God, you feel amazing.”

  Steph made it last, in no hurry for their time together to end. But it did, of course.

  Dawn came too swiftly. As the pink light of the early rising sun came into the room through the sliding glass door, she tucked a blanket around Nick and picked up her duffle.

  “Merry Christmas,” she whispered, pausing on the threshold a moment before shutting out the view of Nick asleep on the couch.

  The clicking of the latch said the goodbye she couldn’t.

  * * * * *

  “Well, this is a surprise,” Amanda said as she pulled the door wide. “It’s been over a year since you last darkened my doorstep, Nicholas James. And you looked a hell of a lot better then than you do now.”

  He gave a curt nod before dropping a kiss on her forehead. “I need a favor, Mandy, and I hope to God it doesn’t make me an asshole for asking. Do you know where Stephanie lives?”

  The petite blonde blinked up at him. “Wow. Okay, hang on a sec. That hurt a little.” She blew out her breath and stepped out of the way. “Come in.”

  Nick stepped inside but hovered by the doorway. Three damn days had passed since he last touched Steph and if he didn’t get to her soon, he was pretty sure he’d go insane.

  Mandy stared at him a moment and then walked to the kitchen counter where her purse waited. “I’m over you, I swear I am.” She pulled out her BlackBerry and a pen. While writing she said, “I still have to ask why Steph’s the one that got to you.”

  “Hell. What kind of question is that?” He ran his hand through his hair.

  “I don’t know. I guess I’m just wondering if what they say about The Rules is true. Is playing hard-to-get the way to land the great guys?” She came toward him and held out a business card with an address on the back.

  Relief flooded him. He tucked the precious card in his pocket. “Maybe in the beginning the chase is fun. Now it just sucks. Thanks for this, Mandy. Really.”

  “Hey, Nick.”

  He paused on the threshold, his impatience nearly overwhelming. “What?”

  “You’re not heading over there now, are you? Steph and Kevin were—”

  “Who the fuck is Kevin?” Every muscle tensed at the sound of Stephanie’s name linked
with another guy’s.

  Amanda’s eyes widened. “Oh shit… You don’t know.”

  “Obviously not.” He strode back into the living room. “But you’re going to tell me.”

  She sighed. “You better take a seat.”

  * * * * *

  Nick watched out the window of his car as Stephanie exited her Grand Cherokee and started up the icy walkway from her driveway toward her front door. The house where she lived was quaint and cozy, with soft touches that were clearly Steph’s that made the residence a home. She looked sad and he knew why. He’d watched her leave with Kevin Martin just an hour ago. Now she was alone.

  Steph had a family.

  He was the outsider.

  Steeling himself inwardly, he stepped out into the chilly afternoon air and shut his door with enough force to catch her attention. She looked over her shoulder and came to an abrupt halt. He walked toward her with a purposeful stride, part angry and part really fucking hurt.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice low and slightly panicked.

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled his hands out his coat pockets and pulled her close, his mouth finding hers. The moment her lips met his, he groaned. When her momentary hesitation melted into desperate ardor, he knew he had a chance.

  She still wanted him.

  Lifting her feet from the ground, he carried her to the door. “Open it.”

  “Nick—”

  “I suggest you hurry up if you don’t want to shock your neighbors.”

  Fumbling nervously, Steph shoved the key in the lock and when the knob turned, he crowded in behind her, kicking the door shut with his booted foot. She turned and he pushed her against the foyer wall.

  “I’ve missed you,” he said hoarsely, his hands wandering restlessly in an attempt to feel her through the bulky jacket she wore. “Every goddamned minute since you left me, I’ve missed you.”

  “Don’t do this, Nick.” She leaned her head back and then gasped when his teeth scraped her neck. “We had a deal. The wish list and then we’d be done.”

  “But we’re not done,” he argued. “We’re nowhere near done. And if I have anything to say about it, we’ll never be done.”