Bad Santa (Paranormal Christmas elves Romance) (Paranormal Protection Agency Book 13)

by Mina Carter

  Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, pinning hers to her body. With a snarl she pushed up and back, the pixie in her coming out as she tried to head-butt him. But he was too strong and, instead of the moves she might have expected, he dropped to the floor, pulling her down with him.

  She stiffened, expecting to hit the carpet hard, but he twisted and broke her fall with his solid, muscled form. Not that it gave her any advantage. Before she could process the change in positions, he flipped them both and she found herself pinned beneath him.

  Heat flared, consuming her body like wildfire, and instead of fighting back, all she wanted to do was rub herself, catlike, against him. Fuck. Why couldn’t her dad have been a lion shifter or something? Then she could have blamed that need on him.

  But she hadn’t a clue what he was and she definitely wasn’t a shifter, so she had to deal with the wash of heat and need eating her up from the inside out. Clamping her lips together, she kept the little moan of pleasure that wanted to escape firmly inside and fought back.

  Nick swore, forced to twist to the side to stop her knee slamming up into his groin and made a grab for her wrists. She tried to stop him, doing her best to squirm out from under him, but he was bigger, stronger and faster. Within a few seconds he had her wrists in strong hands and hauled them above her head to pin them there. Not done yet, she hissed and tried to buck him off. It was like trying to move a mountain, though, and each heave did nothing but make her realize that he was hard.

  All over.

  Freezing, she looked up at him with wide eyes.

  “Damn, and just as I was enjoying that.”

  “Bastard.”

  Her word was barely more than a whisper. This close, she saw the instant the expression in his eyes changed from determined to something far hotter and wilder.

  “No.” He leaned down to brush his lips against hers. Barely more than a tease, it drew a little gasp from the back of her throat. “I’m an asshole. Big difference, okay?”

  Then his mouth covered hers and she was lost. All the frustration and need that had been welling up in her since she met him, only made worse by their little interlude in the office, rolled through her. Parting her lips, she arched against him in offering.

  He groaned and drove within, his tongue invading her mouth to find and slide against hers. Her whimper was lost under his kiss as his taste, of cinnamon and coffee and unique to him, exploded on her tongue. His bigger body moved over hers and he slid a hard knee between hers, parting them easily. Settling in the cradle between her parted thighs, the hard length of his cock pressed right where she needed it.

  He rocked. She moaned under his lips.

  “God, I love that sound,” he broke away to murmur, kissing feverishly along her jaw until he reached her neck.

  Although she was pinned beneath him, she was anything but passive, kicking her heels off so she could slide her bare foot along the back of his leg. Her narrow skirt stopped her lifting it as high as she wanted and her soft cry of frustration got his attention. Letting go of her hands, he shoved the offending garment higher.

  A shiver hit her at the feel of his big hand smoothing up over her thigh again, her body aching for his touch. Clinging to his thick, muscled upper arm, she turned her head to bare her throat for more of his kisses. She needed more, needed his lips and hands everywhere. All over. Now.

  “You’re fucking gorgeous,” he muttered roughly, scraping a little bite against the line of her jaw as he moved back to her lips again. Before he kissed her, though, he lifted up to look her in the eyes.

  “No bullshit, Joy, and no pretense. Do you want this?” he demanded, his handsome face tight with arousal, his eyes blazing with heat. “Because if you don’t say no now, I’m going to fuck you. Right here, right now, on the floor. I’ll make you come so hard you’ll feel it for weeks.”

  Oh. My. God…

  She looked up at him, unable to speak past the rush of need that roared in her ears and closed her throat over. Heaven help her, despite all her assurances to herself that she was nothing like a normal pixie woman, she was just like them. A show of strength, a strong body, and a ruthless streak a mile wide and she was putty in his hands.

  More than that though. She felt safe in a way she never had before. Nick made her feel safe in his arms…and that feeling was more seductive than any pretty words or romantic gestures.

  “Joy? Answer?” His voice was tortured as he watched her carefully and she realized that, unlike most pixie men, he wouldn’t do anything without her consent. The realization cracked the last wall on her reserve and she nodded quickly.

  “Thank fuck.” The expletive was muttered a millimeter from her lips as he took them again. But this time there was no gentleness. Instead, he devoured, demanded and took all at once, giving nothing but pleasure in return.

  She moaned as he tore at his clothes, the jacket and shirt gone in a heartbeat to allow her to run her hands over the satin-steel carved body. His own shook as he explored the curve of her waist and then cupped her breast. The buttons down the front of her dress stood no chance. Hooking a hand in her neckline, he tore down them and they scattered to dance away across the carpet.

  At the sight of her breasts encased in black lace, he groaned, a bright banner of arousal burning across high cheekbones. Dropping his head, he kissed her nipples through the lace, licking and sucking them right through the barrier.

  His hand slid higher on her thigh. She rocked to the side to allow him better access, wrapping her legs around his lean hips at the same time. All the while he ground against her clit, the pressure and friction stealing her breath away. The abused bundle of sensation throbbed in anticipation of what was to come. She groaned as he reached the edge of her panties. The sound turned to a gasp as he tangled strong fingers in the lace and then yanked, tearing the scrap of satin and lace clean from her.

  Moving to put air between them, she whimpered as his hand moved inward. He found her pussy lips at the same moment he nipped at her tight nipple, her body bucking and rocking under the dual assault.

  “So hot and wet,” he whispered, his fingers gliding easily between her lower lips. Finding her clit, he rubbed and stroked it, licking and sucking at her nipples all the while.

  Her cognitive abilities shut down, the pleasure coursing through her reducing her to mere reaction. She clung to his broad shoulders. With every little moan, whimper and shiver, she begged him to carry on… take her further.

  “…can’t wait.” His words were little more than grunts between them as he reached down to tear at the fly on his pants. Her pussy clenched as the sound of a zipper filled the air and a second later, the thick, broad head of his cock pressed against her.

  She closed her eyes as he started to push. All her life, she’d only ever been with Andri, so she steeled herself for a painful shove before she might get some pleasure from the encounter.

  Nick though, didn’t thrust into her hard and fast. Instead, he pressed in, then paused and pulled back. Her eyes flew open and sought his in confusion. What was wrong? Didn’t he want to…

  He pressed again, sliding into her further. The little slip as his cock filled her another half inch made them both groan. Rocking his hips, he worked himself into her inch by delicious inch, never once too hard or fast, until he filled her to the hilt. Then he stopped.

  Their gazes locked as he pulsed within her, her pussy stretched tightly around him. Throbbing around his thick length. She swallowed, feeling naked as he looked down on her. He was bigger than Andri had been, much bigger.

  His sexy lips curved into a sinful little grin and he reached down to hook one of her legs over his hip. “Ready to scream, gorgeous?”

  She didn’t get time to answer because he started to move. On the first thrust, the overstuffed, tight feeling she’d had as she got used to his cock inside her disappeared as if it had never been. Each stroke brushed against nerve endings in her tight pussy and sent cascades of pleasure rocking through her.
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br />   She gasped, clinging to his shoulders as he moved over her. The need to hold onto him, to be wrapped in his arms as he took her, was overwhelming. Tension rose. Her blood simmered with arousal as it built to fever pitch, driven upward by each hard thrust as he built speed. The fact they were fucking on the floor in the middle of a brothel didn’t matter… all that mattered was the two of them and the feelings he aroused within her.

  “You feel so good,” he groaned, bending his head to bury his face into the side of her throat, his arm under her shoulders to brace his body over hers.

  She moaned, the sound dragged from the depths of her being as he looped her leg over his arm, hand braced against the floor to drive into her. Deeper and deeper, until she didn’t know where he ended and she began.

  The pleasure rolling through her body arrowed to her loins, forming a hard knot that built and built until it bordered on pain.

  “Just let go, gorgeous,” he breathed, teeth grazing her ear lobe and making her jerk and then whimper. “You’re safe with me. Let me hear your pleasure.”

  His words, the feeling of being protected in his arms, did it for her. With a cry she let go, allowing the orgasm to break over her like waves on a beach, and gave herself up to a pleasure she’d never known before.

  6

  He’d slept with his enemy’s daughter, with three bodies in the room… but fuck, it had been the best night of his life.

  Forearms resting against the barrier of the balcony outside Joy’s bedroom, Nick drew in a breath of the crisp winter air and stared out over the formal gardens. He didn’t see them. All his thoughts were taken up with Joy and the current situation.

  Like the fact he shouldn’t have slept with her. Hell, sleeping hadn’t entered into it. He doubted either of them had gotten more than ten or fifteen minutes rest all night. Perhaps not even that.

  It was like the first time, in the brothel, had opened the floodgates. After that, they hadn’t been able to get enough of each other. Again in the brothel, in the limo on the way back, almost on the stairs on the way up to Joy’s room… only the fact they’d been interrupted by a maid had stopped them… then all night long in her room.

  He’d glimpsed heaven right here on Earth in that cozy little bed with its cotton sheets and thick blankets that were nothing like he’d expect a pixie lady to choose. But Joy wasn’t anything like he’d expected. She was beautiful, sweet and courageous. Determined to right the wrongs her husband and his clan had inflicted.

  Guilt threaded its way through Nick’s veins, needling him. Shoving upright, he ran a shaking hand through his hair. She was all that, and he was using her to get to her father.

  Forget the PPA job. That was already sorted. Dolph would ensure the information on the memory stick got to the right people. No doubt the PPA had already swung into action and the Krasniqi empire was being quietly and ruthlessly dismantled. His part in that was already done.

  All he had to do was run interference and keep the warriors off balance, keep their attention on him, which he was doing quite nicely by occupying Joy’s bed. He knew pixies. Every one of them would be focused on his claim to power, but they had no leader to challenge him now that Joy had dealt with Jakov.

  He frowned as he mulled that over, rubbing a hand over the rough stubble forming on his jaw and cheeks. The guy had been frozen solid, a pixie-sized ice cube. For a moment, echoes of Eva’s death rose to haunt him but he shook the feeling off.

  Life had a habit of playing tricks, so he shouldn’t have been surprised that Joy had a spelled blade that froze people to death. Just a coincidence, he reassured himself. If she’d displayed any other unusual abilities, he might have been a little worried, but she hadn’t. She was nothing like her murderous father.

  Frost… Fucking hell, he’d expected the asshole to show up before now. If Joy had been enough to show up on the Seer’s radar when he searched for the guy, then she had to be important to him. Yet so far, Nick hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him, which really didn’t fit. What the fuck was wrong with the guy? If it had been his daughter…

  He almost grinned at that thought. Actually, if Nix had been the one in danger, he’d probably have had to step in to stop her killing whoever had threatened her. She was a chip off the old block and could very much look after herself.

  But Joy wasn’t Nix, or a Claus with all the power of Christmas behind her. She was nowhere near as capable of looking after herself.

  “Where are you, you cold-hearted bastard?” he muttered, looking out into the frozen garden. Ice and frost tinted the landscape, giving it the sort of white wash-over that featured on many Christmas cards. But he didn’t need a visual reminder that the holiday season was fast approaching.

  Christmas was almost here, so close he could almost taste it. He could feel it. Feel the compulsion grow within, a visceral need to pull the magic of Christmas around him and become the big man in the red suit again. It was stronger than it had been for years, his skin itching across his shoulders as though waiting for the weight of a sack full of presents.

  “Arrrggh!” he growled, rubbing at one of his tattooed forearms. He wasn’t going to put the red suit on. Never again. He was done with that life, so why did he hanker after it again? “Screw this.”

  Rooting in his pocket, he pulled his cell free and dialed a number from memory.

  “Hey, big man? Yeah, it’s Nick. Listen, I need a favor…”

  For such a big man, Nick sure could move quietly.

  Having been born and bred in a pixie barrow, Joy slept lightly. So as soon as Nick slid out of bed, she was aware of it. Realizing quickly there was no danger, she settled down again, but long minutes later was forced to admit that sleep had fled. No surprise there. She’d always been the same. As soon as she was awake, she was awake, and it didn’t take long before her back started to ache.

  Grumbling to herself, she slid out of bed and padded to the bathroom. It wasn’t until she was in the main room, fixing herself a coffee that it hit her. Her mug paused halfway to her lips as her eyes widened.

  Holy shit. She’d slept with Nick.

  No, it was worse than that. She was in love with Nick.

  “Fuck.” With a groan she put the mug down and raked a hand through her hair. Of all the cliché, goddamn stupid things to do, falling for your own bodyguard had to rank up there with the most idiotic.

  But, hell, the sex was awesome.

  For a moment she allowed herself to focus on that. Nick had been insatiable, wanting her every way and any way he could get her. Her cheeks flushed at the X-rated memories scrolling through her mind like her own private porno channel. Fuck, had she really let him do all that? Had she really done all that to him?

  She pressed her hands to her cheeks, using the always cool touch of her fingers to cool the heat of her blush. She had, she admitted to herself, feeling her body heat at the memories. She’d done all that and would do it again because there was just something about him. Something that fed into a deeper need she hadn’t realized she had. As though she’d been waiting for him all her life.

  But it wasn’t just the sex. As amazing as it was, it wasn’t the horizontal tango that had made her fall hard and fast. It was the fact Nick made her feel safe for the first time in years, perhaps even in her life. Since birth, she’d been at someone else’s mercy. Her grandfather, Andri…both had held her life in their hands… as would whoever managed to take her husband’s place as the Krasniqi lord, unless she could get the clan dismantled before that happened.

  But Nick didn’t make her feel that way. He was ruthless and brutal enough to protect her even in a pixie barrow, but he wasn’t overbearing. He didn’t make her feel like he owned her in exchange for that protection. Her lips curved into a small smile as she lifted her coffee to her lips again. Despite his protestations to the contrary, he wasn’t an asshole.

  In fact, it was ironic that the only non-pixie guy in the barrow would make the perfect warlord. She blew across the top of the steaming liqu
id in her mug. Perhaps they could make this arrangement permanent? After all this stuff with the clan was sorted, of course, but it was possible.

  She turned, heading for the door to the small balcony attached to her sitting room. Nick’s tall figure was visible through the gauze drapes and she smiled. Hope for the future filled her. For the first time in her life she could think about the future and make her own decisions. Good or bad, she didn’t care. They were hers.

  The door was slightly open. Raising her hand to push it further so she could slip through and out onto the balcony, she paused as she heard Nick’s deep voice.

  “Yeah, it has to look like a hit. Something from a rival. I need it to be convincing, bro. Real fucking convincing. It’s the only way to draw this bastard out into the open.”

  He was on the phone. Normally, she’d have walked out anyway, keeping quiet until he’d finished his call, but something in the tone of his voice stopped her. Keeping quiet, she remained hidden by the drapes of the door and listened.

  “Not a fucking clue. I’d expected him to show his face before now. Really… yeah, I know right? If it’d been Rudi in danger, you’d have been all over that shit like white on rice, wouldn’t you?”

  Joy’s brows snapped together. Who was he talking to? Who was this “he” he was referring to? And who the hell was Rudi?

  “You’re right. He could be watching. Who knows with that asshole. If he can let a defenseless woman suffer for hours and die in the cold, anything goes.”

  She moved closer to the door, eyes widening. Someone had died? An innocent. Her heart ached for the unknown woman. She didn’t feel the cold herself, never had, but she’d seen what it could do to others.

  Once, when she was being shuttled from place to place in her grandfather’s limo like the pampered pixie princess she’d been brought up as, she’d seen a homeless beggar as they came out of one of the expensive department stores downtown. At first she’d thought it was a mound of rubbish and rags, but a few steps closer and she’d see his face. Eyes open and sightless, his skin had been ice-white, the first traces of frost etching delicate patterns across the hardened skin. He’d frozen to death just yards from the warmth and opulence of a store that sold a purse for more than it took to feed a family for a year.