A Naughty Little Christmas (Cowboys, Cops, and Kilts: 8 Seasonally Seductive Romances from Bestselling Authors)

by Randi Alexander

  “Damn it all,” she swore and ended the call.

  Going for an innocent look, he smiled at her. “Did he clear it all up?”

  Her fingers tightened around both shoe and phone. “He says you have an open invite to stay here.” Throwing the cordless behind her onto the bed, she stomped around him and out the door to the room which doubled as spare room and office.

  Well, that explains why I didn’t see her things around when I arrived. She isn’t using Balt’s room. Without thought, he followed her and leaned in the doorway, watching her. “What are you doing?” he asked as she pulled out a suitcase and began putting a few items in it.

  “Leaving. Obviously, there is no need for me to housesit if you’re here.” She wouldn’t look at him.

  “JoJo,” he began, only to stop when her head snapped up and she leveled a glare of death at him. Hands out in an appeasing gesture, he breathed deeply. “Well, you didn’t see fit to tell me your name.”

  “Kassia,” she bit off. “Kassia Green.”

  Much better than JoJo. Pushing away from the door, he prowled toward her. “Kassia,” he drew out on a long breath. “Don’t go.” Her surprise and suspicion was apparent.

  “Why?” she asked, standing upright before shoving her hands into her back pockets.

  Heath licked his lips and imagined how she’d taste. Envisioned her on her back, legs spread as he knelt between them, thrusting home into her wet heat. The throbbing from his cock told him it agreed with him whole-heartedly. Shoving his own hands into his pockets so he didn’t grab her, Heath stopped before her.

  “You made plans to be here so why not stay? I promise I’m not nearly as disagreeable as I was when we first met.” He flashed a smile, determinedly ignoring the pain coursing through every inch of him. “Besides, Balt would kick my ass if you felt you had to leave just because I was here.”

  The tip of her tongue snuck out to lick her lips, and he felt the jolt straight through to his groin. He could see her shudder and immediately remembered the lone shoe and snowflakes in her hair.

  “You’re freezing. Go take a shower and warm up.” Her mouth gaped like a fish before she recovered, and he knew that wasn’t what she’d expected him to say. He winked and added, “Unless you need some help…undressing.” The flush that tinged her cheeks made him long, all over again, to kiss her. Learn what she tasted like, everywhere. Discover if she was a loud lover or a woman who tried to keep her moans contained. Naw, he’d bet anything she was a screamer.

  “Out,” she demanded, pointing at the door.

  He shrugged with more nonchalance than he felt and turned easily to leave. At the door, he faced her again and said teasingly, “You know, I’m pretty good at washing backs. Let me know if you need any assistance.”

  Heath grinned and walked out. The grin faded the moment he no longer faced her. His leg was killing him. By the time he made it to his bag and got out his pills, the room was spinning. Popping three in his mouth, he chewed them up and lay down on the bed wearing only his boxers, awaiting sleep to overtake him.

  “Contact rear! Contact rear!” Captain Reese hollered. Seconds later, the unmistakable sound of automatic gunfire rent the air.

  Rebel swung around, bringing his weapon up even as his finger squeezed the trigger on his M16A2 rifle as he fired upon the insurgents, who rushed over the hill. They reminded him of rats escaping a sinking ship. Except these rats carried RPG’s, grenades and automatic weapons. A flow of endless bodies to fire upon, and he did. Firing constantly as he went.

  Instinct took over, and he ducked to slam home a new magazine before running towards the approaching swarm of men who wanted him dead. Not just him but the men they’d come to rescue as well. Sweat ran down his face, and he blinked it away, refusing to let it ruin his sight and chance to make it back alive. Staring down into the face of one he’d just killed, he swallowed back the bile. Christ, it was just a kid. These fuckers had no qualms about using their young to do their dirty work.

  He loved his rifle. Rigged as fully auto, it spat out 5.56 mm rounds in bursts of three. In his periphery, he saw his teammates moving beside him in perfect sync. As they always did. They worked together like a well-oiled machine. High and low, they shot through the line approaching them. This wasn’t about taking prisoners. This was nothing more than a fire fight. Ugly, brutal and all too common here. Unfortunately, it seemed there were two more for every one they killed. Where they all came from he hadn’t a clue. But this was what they did. They had an intricate tunnel system underground and could move freely. This was their land.

  Explosions went off right and left. Pain ricocheted through him, and he sank to the ground as one leg gave out beneath him. A few bullets had torn through, and it was unable to hold his weight anymore. Curses streamed from his mouth as he continued to shoot at the approaching enemy. Doing his best not to become a helpless target.

  “Rebel!”

  “I’m fine,” he called back. Not really, but they had enough to worry about without him also needing to be saved. He could hold his ground here for a while yet, then they could help him.

  “Can you move?”

  “Ready to retreat?” he countered as he fired at a few more, ejected the magazine and jammed another home. Thankfully, he could carry twice the ammunition with his weapon taking the 5.56mm rounds as opposed to the 7.62mm round and the weight remained the same. He was going to need a lot with the number of men running down upon them.

  “Shit!”

  It wasn’t that the man cussed, for the Irishman did that quite frequently. It was the sorrow and resignation which he heard that grabbed his attention. Rebel turned his head in the nick of time to see his best friend, Seamus “Blarney” O’Leary get blown apart into little pieces as a grenade ended his life. The concussing wave threw Rebel back as well, knocking the rifle from his hands as the world around him became blurry. Blackness faded in and out, and when he looked up at the sky, which filtered with dirt, smoke, and the metallic stench of blood, he couldn’t make sense of anything. Where was he? What had happened? Why couldn’t he hear anything? Where was Seamus?

  A man stood over him, staring at him with evil eyes and a sneer on his face which didn’t bode well for Rebel. The male shouted something in a language which didn’t make any sense to Rebel, not that it mattered. He no longer had the capacity to stay awake. Darkness surrounded him, removing him from the pain radiating throughout his body. The last thing he remembered before succumbing to the blackness waiting for him was the recollection of his best friend dying right beside him.

  Seamus.

  Chapter Two

  Kassia stood under the pounding shower spray and let the heat battle back the cold that had invaded her body. As she ran the sudsy loofah over her body, her thoughts took a turn towards Heath “Rebel” Dixon. Not that she’d really gotten away from thinking about him. It had been a long time since she’d seen a man that good looking who seemed to be interested in her in return. Despite how they’d met.

  “For all I know,” she muttered, “he was dreaming of his girlfriend, and that’s why he had the erection. Hell, maybe it was a boyfriend.”

  The lather from the soap ran down her breasts, and she closed her eyes and allowed herself to imagine it was Heath holding the bath sponge, running it all over her body. His larger form would take up a good portion of the shower, ensuring they remained close to one another. His hard chest would be at her back as his hands moved slowly all along her skin.

  Her nipples hardened as she moved her hand across them. Crossways along her belly and down over her tightly clipped curls. Her legs shuddered as she passed over her clit, touching it lightly.

  Heath had large hands. She panted as she envisioned his fingers thrusting up inside her, getting her ready for his long, thick cock. She gasped aloud as her digits mimicked the action. Dropping the cleaning object, her other hand began to tease a peaked tip. Kassia turned into the pounding spray, moaning when the powerful streams hit her overly sensiti
ve breasts, sending more shivers of ecstasy through her. Her body burned with the need for release, and she obliged it, moving her wrist faster, bringing herself to euphoria. At the last second, Kassia bit back the scream that roared up from her belly. She came hard and leaned against the wall of the shower to regain her breath. It took a while for she was lightheaded.

  “Jesus, I’m pathetic. A man I barely know has me frigging myself off in the shower after spending less than fifteen minutes with him. I really, really need to get laid.” Quickly, she finished her shower, turned off the water, and paused for a second with her hand on the frosted glass door of the shower. “Okay, Kassia, get a grip.”

  She slid it back and reached for the fluffy blue towel hanging from a silver bar. Wrapping it around her body, she tucked in the extra length between her breasts and walked to the large mirror over the sink. She smeared a hand over the glass and stared at her reflection, still flushed as if she had been pleasured very thoroughly and for a long time.

  Well, it hadn’t been for a long time but it sure as hell awakened what she wanted more of, and it wasn’t her own hand. Or toys, not that she’d brought any with her. But she wanted a man who knew what he was doing.

  Heath. Yeah, she had no doubt that there was a man who knew what to do with a woman he got into bed.

  Shuddering as his name floated through her mind, she dried off and got dressed in some of her favorite lounging clothes. As she tied the drawstring of her sweats, for a second, she wanted to wear something nicer. Would he notice her then? Smacking herself in the head, she stuck her tongue out at her image. When had she gone so insane just from meeting a man?

  Kassia paused at the door as Balt’s words echoed through her.

  “Heath is a great man, JoJo. I trust him with my life. Don’t worry; you’re safe with him there. I know he may be a bit rough around the edges compared to what you’re used to, but he hasn’t had much opportunity to be happy and carefree. He served his country and…well, it hasn’t all been an easy ride for him. Go easy on him, cuz, spend the holiday with him. You never know, it may be just what the both of you need.”

  “I doubt that, Balt,” she’d replied.

  Her cousin laughed at her. “He is a friend, JoJo, be nice to him. Try to, and I do mean try to, curb that tongue of yours and leave some skin on his back.”

  Since Heath had been in the room with her, she’d felt his gaze upon her, she hadn’t responded as she wished to. With a huff, she’d said her farewells and hung up. A military man—that information circled around in her head. Did she have to worry about him snapping and shooting her? If it had been a concern, surely Balt would have told her it wasn’t safe for her. Nothing like that had come from him. He’d given her his word that his friend was safe. He’d never lied to her so she trusted him.

  Her lips curved up into a smile as she fiddled with her necklace. A little bit of that man could just be what I need. Balt may be right-on about that. Nothing little about him, though, that’s for damn sure. Suddenly, the holiday wasn’t looking so bad. Kassia opened the door and stepped through, ready to face whatever fate deemed appropriate for her, namely one handsome man who went by the nickname Rebel.

  She didn’t see him anywhere even when she turned on some lights to combat the oncoming night. Worrying her lower lip, she stopped outside the bedroom door of the room Heath claimed for himself. The room was swathed in darkness. Knowing where the bed was, she inched in quietly. Her heart hammering in her chest, she wanted to run but she also wanted to know if he was in here. Not to mention okay, given the bruises which slathered his torso and the limp he’d tried unsuccessfully to hide.

  “Heath?” she questioned the blackness, suddenly wondering about the brilliance of coming in her unannounced. Balt said he had the potential to be a bit high strung at times, and again, she wondered if his being a solider had lowered her chances of leaving with all limbs intact.

  A low moan moved through the dark to her ears. The sound reverberated with pain and sorrow. Immediately, she reached for the bedside lamp, her fingers searching for the switch to bathe the room in a gentle golden glow. When the light arrived, she breathed a bit easier, for about two seconds.

  Her gaze fell to the bed, and she saw the bandage high on his left leg. Must have missed it before when my eyes landed on his cock. Not that she blamed herself; that impressive sight had been mightily distracting. Sweeping her intent gaze up his form, she noticed he at least wore boxers this time, but nothing else. All muscles all over. That hadn’t been a figment of her imagination either. She didn’t know many men built like him. Correction, she didn’t know any men who had physiques as Heath did. Damn!

  His moan came again, and she could read the agony on his face. It had sounded like he’d called someone’s name, but she wasn’t positive about that. She frowned, not wanting him to hurt. On the other hand, she could just sit here and stare at the magnificent specimen before her. Who was she to wake him? Chiding herself for her thoughts, Kassia leaned over and placed a hand on his slightly sweaty shoulder.

  “Heath…”

  Before she could finish, he’d hauled her close, draping her over him. One strong arm held her tightly to him. Against her belly, she could feel his erection swelling. She rubbed against him, even as she tried to free herself from his iron-clad grip.

  “Hey,” she demanded, fear lending its voice to her. “Wake up and let me go, would you?”

  “Are you absolutely sure that’s what you want?” His voice swirled around her as his warm breath caressed her ear. Instead of loosening, his arm tightened, and his hips arched slightly into her.

  No! It’s not what I want; hold me tighter. Strip off my clothes and make the fantasy I had in the shower come to fruition, at least once. More if you’re so inclined. “Yes,” she managed to mutter, having to swallow a few times before the word would even slip free of her lips. “I would appreciate it very much.”

  “This is a much better way to wake, sweets, than with you screeching to the heavens.” His nose brushed along the skin behind her ear, delivering spikes of pleasure through her. “Well, from fear anyway.”

  “Let me go,” she commanded.

  His chest vibrated as he chuckled, yet it didn’t sound totally humorous, even to her ears. “Already have, sweets. You’re laying on me totally by your own accord. Not that I mind. I like you pressed up against me like this. You’ve got a rockin’ body.”

  Her body flushed hotly, and she ground against him before she found her control and climbed off him as fast as she could. “You…you…you’re—”

  “I know what I am, Miss Green, no need to tell me again.” He fixated his stare off to the far corner.

  There was no teasing, no warmth left in his tone at all. Almost like a switch had been thrown. The heat which had swarmed her from his touch when she’d lain on him banished beneath the chill in the air. The look in his gaze mimicked his voice, hard and unforgiving. Again, from the back of her mind came this urge, this desire to make him feel better.

  What the hell is wrong with me? I barely know the man. What does it matter to me if he’s grumpy and snippy? I should just leave him alone and suffer through this time we have to share the house together. It’s not like she was going anywhere. She wanted to stay and try to figure out what mysterious hold this Heath Dixon had on her.

  Like she really needed a crisis of conscious now. The last guy she’d been with had been a whiner, but with him, she hadn’t given a crap, finding him to be a pussy and completely unmanly for his actions. Not Heath. The man didn’t whine but she could tell he hurt. And she wanted to take that away from him.

  Biting her lower lip, Kassia put her hands on her hips and stared down at him, pretending he wasn’t lying on the bed wearing a pair of boxers with an obvious ridge in them. Not an easy task but she was determined to do this. Her foot tapped as it was wont to do when she had a bad case of uncertainty. She could do this; she wasn’t scared of him or anything. And she wasn’t counting the fear that she’d
jump him because she couldn’t control her own sexual urges.

  “I came in here to see if you’d be going out for dinner or would like to share a meal with me.”

  He turned his head and looked at her. Kassia could see the shock in his expression before he erased it and she was back staring at a blank emotional slate. “You sure?”

  Nope. Not at all. Pasting a small smile on her face, she nodded. “Of course. If we’re going to be here together for a few days we may as well try to get along with one another.” She shrugged. “Your decision. I’ll be eating in about an hour. Sorry for disturbing you.”

  Licking her lips, Kassia allowed her gaze to run one more gamut of his prone form. Damn, damn, damn, this man is hella fine! Even with all the ugly bruising tattooed across his chest, he just had this thing about him which made her fingers itch to touch him, and her long to lick the smooth skin. Without meeting his gaze, she left the room and headed for the kitchen.

  Once there, she rested her hands against the ledge of the counter and blew out a long breath. What the hell was she doing? Playing with fire most likely. Heath Dixon was a man so far out of her league, she would be in way over her head. Shoving that away for a bit, she thought about what to make for dinner. Unsure of what it was he normally ate, she stuck with something a bit more basic.

  She’d just pulled skillet containing the sausage and peach stuffed pork chops from the oven when Heath walked into the kitchen. Her heart kicked up a few notches, but she remained focused on what she was doing and transferred the hot dish to the waiting trivet on the table. It was just the two of them; they could serve themselves from the pan. There wasn’t any need to dirty up more dishes. The twice-baked rosemary blue potato mash already sat on the table along with the fresh tossed salad.

  “Perfect timing,” she said, setting the hot pads back on the kitchen counter and going for drinks.