And she’d been damn good at her job.
What surprised her was that so far she wasn’t missing her work with the CIA. The long hours, isolation and cloak-and-dagger existence had been starting to wear on her. And she hadn’t even realized it until she wasn’t part of it anymore.
She’d left the lodge certain it could never be home. But the moment she’d walked back inside it had felt...right. Where had those misfit feelings fled to?
And then what had happened this afternoon with the car?
Noelle wasn’t entirely certain what to make of that. Had it really just been her? Part of her wanted Dash to have given her a little boost, but looking into his deep, honest eyes, she hadn’t been able to believe he was lying to her.
But what did that really mean?
She had no idea.
Thinking about that burst of heat that had spread through her like she’d mainlined hot cocoa brought her full circle to the man who’d been holding her. The spread of his hand low across her belly. The way his fingers had rested right beneath the curve of her breast. His fingers entwined with hers. The unavoidable buzz of need.
God, even now she wanted him. Her body was begging her to open that door, forget everything that was between them and give in to the need.
Her hand rested on the knob, indecision freezing her muscles.
No. She couldn’t do this. This man had destroyed her. Broken her heart and let her walk out of his life without even a single word asking her to stay.
Her hand dropped uselessly to her side. But before she could turn away, the door jerked open. Dash was framed there, blinking at her like she was a mirage he was trying to clear away from his brain.
“Elle?” he asked, his voice low and fluid.
His hand wrapped around her arm, holding her in place when everything inside her urged her to run.
“What are you doing up?”
She could have told him she was just checking in with her team. Or that she hadn’t been able to sleep and was wandering. But she didn’t. She didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. Her throat refused to work. All she could do was stare up into his eyes, the hum in her body steadily increasing as if someone was ruthlessly turning up the volume on her desire.
His skin glowed with heat. Several damp strands of hair clung to his forehead. He needed a haircut, but what else was new? His dark hair was always just this side of too long. It had been a running joke. Slowly, she reached up to push the mess away from his face. She wanted to see him.
The moment she touched him she knew it was over. All the struggle to pretend she didn’t still want him. Dash Evergreen had always been her weakness.
“Elle?” His fingers tightened around her arm, biting into her.
She knew what he was asking, but she didn’t really have an answer. Shaking her head, she swiped her tongue across her suddenly parched lips.
The groan that rocketed up from his chest made her tingle in the strangest places. Before she could blink, they were both back inside his shop. The door slammed shut behind them and her back hit the hard surface.
Caught between the thick slab of wood and the towering height of Dash’s body, she couldn’t think. Didn’t want to.
His mouth devoured her, touching everywhere. The hard press of his lips trailed across her exposed collarbone. For the first time she questioned the intelligence of prowling the halls in the tiny shorts and tank top she liked to sleep in. Until the tip of his tongue slipped beneath the low edge of her shirt to find the tight tip of her breast.
“Oh, God,” she breathed, her fingers clenching his hair to hold him close.
Her body was on fire, as surely as the banked furnace pumping heat into the room.
She didn’t protest when he grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled it straight over her head. She played tit for tat and made his own damp shirt disappear.
God, the man had a body. He was rock-solid, hard muscles beneath her questing fingers. Bulging biceps from all the glass work. Abs that made her want to lick him everywhere.
Her own mouth grasped for any patch of skin she could reach, greedy for the taste of him after so long. His skin was salty-sweet. She’d always loved him best when he’d come straight from the shop. It had taken her a long time to convince him she didn’t want him to shower after he’d been down here.
The familiar smoky scent of the fire clung to his skin. She breathed it in, filling her lungs and holding him close.
Grasping her hips, Dash boosted her into the air. Her legs wrapped around his waist, bunching tight as she clung to him. She reveled in the feel of him sliding against her.
The hard ridge of his erection settled exactly where she wanted. Her own hips ground against him, pulling a ragged sound from between his lips. The brush of heated breath whispered across her skin.
Throwing her head back, she delighted in the feel of him.
“Jesus, Elle,” he groaned against her belly, her own muscles tightening beneath the caress.
But his mouth moved away, and suddenly there was nothing but cool air touching her skin. His hands bracketed her face, scraping hair off her forehead. He stared up at her, the intense glitter of his green eyes nearly her undoing.
“Do you have any idea how much I want you? I can’t get you out of my head. Haven’t been able to since the moment I caught you sneaking out of your bedroom window when we were eighteen. The tempting swell of your ass in that tight little skirt as you shimmied down the drainpipe. Your tart mouth when I came out of the shadows to order you back inside.”
Strangled laughter burst from her chest. “The way you tailed me to the Gingerbread party and interfered with every guy I tried to hook up with.”
“None of them were good enough for you.”
“Oh, and you were?”
The words were out before she thought about the consequences. With regret, she watched the manic heat fade slowly from his eyes.
“Hell no.”
He tried to set her down, but Noelle just shook her head and tightened her thighs. “Oh, no you don’t, Dash Evergreen. You are not going to light my body up like the Fourth of July and then send me back to my room unsatisfied. I’ve been fighting this since the moment I walked back into Evergreen Industries, and I’m tired. I don’t want to do it anymore. I want you.”
To prove her point, she arched her back, letting the door take all of her weight as her body went off center. His hands scrambled to hold her, but she wasn’t worried. Dash would never hurt her, at least not physically. She trusted him with her body and always had. It was her heart he’d screwed with. But as long as she could keep that piece of herself out of this...
Her legs flexed, driving her body higher, before she relaxed and brought them even tighter together. The soft cotton of her shorts rubbed perfectly against his denim-encased length. The combination of rough and soft nearly made her whimper.
It had been so long. She was close enough that if she rubbed in the right place she might just go off. But that wasn’t what she wanted. If she’d wanted quick and easy she could have done that for herself.
Noelle wanted Dash deep inside her, filling her up and rubbing in all the right places.
“I tried to do the right thing, Elle,” he ground out. “But no matter what, I just can’t seem to succeed. Not where you’re concerned. You trump every one of my good intentions.”
“I don’t remember asking you for good intentions, Dash.”
With a snarling growl of surrender, Dash wrapped his arms around her back and spun. Swiping his arm across one of the metal tables in the middle of the room, she heard the clatter as tools hit the floor.
She hissed when her naked back hit the cold steel. He didn’t wait, but followed her down, keeping their bodies locked tight together.
He ripped her shorts from her body, lite
rally tearing them straight down the seam. Some small part of her wanted to protest, but she didn’t. How could she when the gloriously naked heat of him descended on her?
He played with her, teasing fingers slipping through the evidence of her desire. A strangled cry erupted from her lips when he finally plunged inside. Her entire body bowed off the table, searching for more and delighting in the pleasure.
He drove her to the brink, leaving her gasping and whimpering, but he wouldn’t let her go over. The moment she got close he’d back off, pressing featherlight kisses across her belly, down her thighs and over her eyelids.
Good thing she didn’t need to see to feel him. He wasn’t the only one who could dish out a little torture. Her fist wrapped around his hard length, remembering just what would drive him insane. She dragged several gasps and guttural groans from him.
They were both delirious, completely consumed with each other. If he’d asked her to walk across hot coals at that moment she would have done it. Done anything. If he’d just give her what she wanted.
“Please, Dash. Please. I need you. Now.”
He panted, his ribs expanding and contracting erratically beneath her hands. “I know. God, baby, I know.”
Grasping his hips, Noelle widened the cradle of her thighs and settled him right at the entrance to her body. A snarling sound of relief slipped through his parted lips just as he flexed and thrust deep.
The sound that ripped from her throat was part ecstasy and part torture. They fit together perfectly, just as she’d remembered.
It was overwhelming—more than she’d expected. Her chest tightened even as her body began to completely unravel. Both of them were too close to the edge to be gentle or deliberate. Instead, they came together in a flashing pump of hips, the glorious friction of bodies and brutal slice of long-denied passion finally finding a delicious outlet.
Her throat constricted just as her body spasmed. The dark spiral of release tried to suck her into oblivion, but she wasn’t ready to let it have her. She waited for him, holding out so that she could feel the swell and pulse of his release deep inside her. And when she had it, she finally gave in. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. It was too much. It wasn’t enough.
Dash sank down beside her, their arms and legs tangled in a knot she didn’t have the energy yet to unravel.
Noelle lay there—the cold press of metal at her back and the heat of him draped over her like the warmest blanket on the harshest winter night. Her chest heaved, and every cell in her body seemed to quiver, energized and newly alive.
She didn’t realize she was crying until Dash lifted himself onto an elbow. The smile of satisfaction that stretched his face faded.
Swiping a thumb across her cheek, he said, “Hey, hey. What’s this?” and held up a single glistening tear.
Chapter 4
Dash hated to see her cry.
Hated to be the reason for Noelle’s tears.
And he’d been responsible for quite a few of them in their relationship.
Gathering her in his arms, he rolled around until his back was against the table and Elle was pressed tight to his chest.
She tried to bury her face in his shoulder, but he wasn’t having any of that. Part of the reason they’d crashed and burned was because they hadn’t taken the time to communicate. He wasn’t making that mistake again.
Because now that she was back in his arms, he wasn’t sure he could let her go. It had nearly crushed him the first time.
Tipping her chin up, he forced her to look at him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, trying to make the words as gentle as possible.
“Nothing.”
Her tears might have stopped, but he could still see the tracks where they’d been. Swiping his thumb through the ghost of them, his mouth tightened. “That isn’t nothing, Elle. Talk to me. What did I do?”
Her gloriously blue eyes went wide with surprise. “Nothing, Dash. You didn’t do anything. Well, at least nothing wrong. It’s just been...a long time since I’ve felt that...connected to another person.” She pulled against his hold, trying to duck and cover her face. “I was a little overwhelmed.”
The tight ache centered in his chest began to ease.
“That was pretty intense.”
She laughed, the sound of it rolling across him. Her body relaxed, going pliant. Folding her arms across his chest, she cradled her chin on her hands and looked at him through the cover of her lashes.
“It was always intense. You and I. The bedroom was never our problem.”
A low chuckle curled up from his belly. “No. Definitely not. Maybe I should have handcuffed you to the bed. Kept you there, naked and waiting for me.”
She frowned, but he still saw the brief flash of interest before she extinguished it.
“Oh, absolutely. Because forcing me to do what you wanted would have solved all our issues. Why not handcuff me to the bed? You wanted me to give up all my dreams for yours anyway.”
“What?” he asked, his voice incredulous. “I never asked you to give up your dreams, Noelle.”
“Please. You wanted me to be the perfect Winter wife. Bake cookies, serve cocoa, never complain and wait patiently for you to decide to come home.”
His fingers tightened around the curve of her hip. She winced, telling him he was holding on too tight, but he couldn’t make his hands uncurl.
“What do you mean wait for me to come home? You make it sound like I was screwing around on you.”
How could she possibly think that? Hell, even at twenty he’d barely had the energy to keep up with her. Not when he was struggling to handle the responsibilities and pressures of his new position with the clan as well as a new wife.
“No. I actually think I would have preferred it if you were. Do you know how much it hurt to wake up alone in an empty bed and know you’d rather be here instead of with me?”
He’d had no idea. Stunned, his mouth opened and closed without anything coming out.
“You shut me out, Dash.”
The shock was quickly devoured by long-repressed outrage. “And your solution was to leave? I was working all the time, Elle, trying not to drown beneath my stressful and exhausting job. My wife, a woman I loved desperately, seemed more and more unhappy the longer we were together. I couldn’t figure out how it had all gone to shit so quickly. Or how to fix it.”
His jaw flexed. He could feel the tension whipping through every muscle in his body but couldn’t force himself to relax. The tears were back in her eyes, glistening across the bright blue surface. He should let it go, but he couldn’t make himself shut up.
“You didn’t even say goodbye. I came back to the lodge and you were just...gone. Not even a note, just an empty closet and a missing suitcase. It was weeks before I realized you weren’t taking a break. You were never coming back.”
Unable to stay this close to her while the memory of that pain ripped through him all over again, he wrapped his hands around her hips and lifted her off.
Grabbing his jeans, he slipped the worn denim over his hips. Turning to search for his shirt, he was in the middle of buttoning the fly when he caught a glimpse of her from the corner of his eye.
His hands stilled. She stood there, completely naked and utterly vulnerable. A contradictory mixture of the girl he’d fallen in love with and the woman she’d become. She might not have on the suits she liked to use as armor, but her body was still perfectly straight. Her shoulders were tight and her chin was tipped upward in a challenging show of confidence. But deep inside her eyes he could see the shadow of her insecurity and doubt. And something else—the slice of pain that he recognized because he wore the same damn scar.
“I heard you,” she whispered, so low he almost didn’t pick up the words.
Taking a single
step closer, he said, “What?”
“I heard you. That night. Talking with Cole about our handfasting. You were the one to insist on the ancient practice, wanting to honor the custom of our ancestors. But the year and a day was coming up, and you weren’t talking about making the union permanent. You were going to leave me.”
“What?” he asked again, his heart suddenly lurching painfully inside his chest. A scathing protest was hot on his lips, but the words died before he could speak them. The look of utter devastation crumpling her face was difficult to argue with.
She truly believed what she was saying.
“I barely saw you. When you weren’t working you were here.” She flung her hands around his workroom. The bitterness in her voice cut straight through him.
He wanted to protest that he hadn’t been hiding away inside his shop, but he knew the words would be lies. He had come here to avoid the fact that his marriage was crumbling and he had had no clue how to stop it. At the time he’d convinced himself he was giving her space.
But the reality was he’d had no idea how to handle what was going on between them, and he’d used the hot shop to pretend everything was okay when it clearly wasn’t.
“When you did actually come home we inevitably ended up fighting.”
Or channeling that pent-up frustration and passion into ripping each other’s clothes off, but he didn’t mention that. He didn’t think that reminder would be helpful just now.
“I was so afraid I was losing you. I couldn’t be what you wanted. I didn’t fit in with the other women. I burned every batch of cookies I tried. I even managed to screw up cocoa.” She threw her hands up into the air, letting them fall back around her in frustration. “It takes a whole lot of talent to screw up hot cocoa, Dash. It’s milk, chocolate and a tiny bit of power. But I couldn’t even manage that.
“You didn’t want to spend time with me, and frankly, I didn’t blame you. I hated myself. The harder I tried, the more I just managed to screw up and push you away.
Jingle Spells Page 17
