by J. S. Scott
Kate wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth back to hers. This time she led their tongue dance, caressing his, sucking it, giving him a preview of how she could bring him even more pleasure.
He moaned and shoved her back against the wall. Kate clung to him. He hauled her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, while continuing to stroke her clit. Warm from where their bodies touched, from the shelter of his coat that hung around her legs, and from a desire that was building within her, Kate didn’t care where they were or who he was.
He thrust a finger inside her, then another, all the while rapidly stroking her clit with his thumb. He seemed to sense when she was approaching a climax. He lowered her back to the ground and turned her around. She heard the sound of his zipper then a condom wrapper being torn open. She looked over her shoulder at him, but he roughly turned her toward the wall. He took both of her hands and placed them against the wall in front of her. Then he shoved a leg between hers and parted them. He leaned forward, his breath hot on the back of her neck. He wrapped one arm around her waist, lifted her to her tiptoes, and thrust his cock deeply into her.
Kate bit her lip to stop from screaming out in pleasure. He didn’t start slow. He didn’t plunge and withdraw. He pounded into her, deeper and deeper, with an animalist abandon that had Kate half sobbing as she left behind civilized sex and was taken to place where pleasure was found in submission.
She climaxed with an explosion of heat, clenching around his shaft as she came. He moaned but didn’t join her. Instead, he withdrew, turned her so she was facing him, and entered her again. She was weak from her first orgasm, but he was relentless and skilled. He sat her on the edge of a pile of empty wooden pallets and lifted one of her legs to his side, using the position to reach her in a new and just as satisfying way.
His mouth was on hers again, ravaging her lips as he claimed her. He unbuttoned her coat and caressed her breasts, finding and teasing her hardened nipples. She slid her hands beneath his coat and dug her fingers into his shoulders through his shirt. There was no him. No her. Only the growing wild need to come again. “Oh, Rob.” Rob paused and Kate feverishly writhed against him. “Don’t stop now. God, don’t stop.”
Rob raised his head. “Look at me.”
Kate struggled to focus on his face. “I’m so close.”
“You’re mine. Even in a game, no other man fucks you. Who am I?”
“Brock.”
Her reward was a mind-shattering series of thrusts. She called out his name again and again, uncaring that patrons in the parking lot might overhear her. He gripped both of her hips tightly as he drove himself into her. She spread herself wider for him, jutting her hips up to meet him each time. She came again and this time he joined her with one final, deep thrust.
He held her in his arms as they both came back to earth. After he had pulled out, cleaned himself off, and adjusted his clothing, he rebuttoned her coat then his own. “It’s fucking cold out here. Let’s go back inside, Kate.”
Kate rose to her tiptoes and kissed him gently. “Everyone will know what we were up to.”
He chuckled against her lips. “I’m sure they knew when I tipped the bartenders each a hundred dollars to let me stand behind the bar with them.”
Kate blushed. “Then we really can’t go back in.”
“No one knows us, Kate. That’s why we drove all the way out here. Come on, let’s get something to eat before we head home.”
When he looked at her that way, like a little boy asking for a cookie before dinner, Kate could refuse Brock nothing. “Are we staying at your place tonight or mine?”
Brock put his arm around Kate’s waist and guided her back to the entrance of the bar. “Either. I don’t care where we sleep as long as you’re with me. Although living out of luggage at each other’s place is getting old.”
Kate tensed. The past month with Brock had been amazing. He didn’t set boundaries in his life as her ex-husband had. Brock enjoyed being with her, and he didn’t hide it. He was good-looking, successful, and passionate in and out of the bedroom. Kate had never been as happy with anyone as she was with him. More than anything she wanted to agree to move in with Brock, but the idea of living with a man—even him—less than a month after her divorce was terrifying. “Soon.”
He pulled her in for a quick kiss before they stepped inside the bar again. “Hey, take all the time you need.”
Right there in front of a full bar, Kate kissed Brock with a combination of gratitude and the feelings she had for him. She knew how lucky she was to have met someone like him. He was everything she’d ever wanted in a man—attentive, sweet, playful, and nearing on a sexual addiction. Even after being with him for a month, things kept getting better and better. That night, for example, had been part her idea and part his. They had been swapping sexual fantasies, and she’d told him she’d always wondered what it would be like to have a one-night stand with a stranger. They’d hatched the idea of meeting at this bar and pretending not to know each other.
She and Brock were perfect together.
And that’s what scared Kate.
In her experience, perfect had an ugly way of not lasting.
Monday morning Brock stood next to Tyler Cage, his architect, and zoned out while Tyler pointed out tiny changes he’d made on their proposed plans for the next mill renovation site. “So, you’ll notice I am now suggesting leveling the building instead of renovating it.”
The sarcasm in his tone pulled Brock back from a pleasurably, detailed daydream based on the bar he’d taken Kate to the night before and the romp they’d had outside of it. He and Tyler had worked together on several contracts and had been friends for as long as Brock could remember. Throughout high school and college they had been each other’s “wingman.” Brock looked down at the plans spread across his desk. “Sorry, I’m distracted today.”
“Obviously.”
Brock grinned, but said nothing.
Tyler asked. “What do you think of what I did on the second floor? It’ll mean a few less units, but the area created could be three stories high. My suggestion is a multi-floor gym like we did in Barrington. I can enclose a lap pool off to the side on the first floor. We can also add a walking track on the perimeter of each floor.”
Falling naturally back into his business mode, Brock looked over the plan with a critical eye. He discussed each suggested change and estimated the cost to potential profit ratio for each. Some of Tyler’s creative additions stayed, some were cut after a heated debate, and some were put off, pending more information regarding the price of the materials needed. Brock was still smiling as they summed up how to move forward.
Shaking his head in disgust, Tyler said, “Would you please be miserable again? You’re already responsible for two of my relationships ending prematurely. They both wanted me to look as fucking happy as you do. I told the first one sex has to be phenomenal to make a man as lovesick as you are right now. That did not go over well. The second one kept trying to sleep over at my house. It got awkward. Especially in that snowstorm. She really wanted to stay, but she made it home fine.”
“So, it’s my fault you’re an asshole?”
“No, but stop making me look bad.”
“I can’t believe you sent a woman home in a snowstorm.”
“I can’t believe you let one practically move in with you.”
“Kate’s different.”
“Chris said that about Kim and look what happened there.”
“They got married.”
“Exactly. You’re my last single friend. Do you know the kind of intense pressure I’ll be under once you cave?”
“I didn’t say I was getting married; I said Kate isn’t like the women I’ve dated in the past. I’m different when I’m with her. She makes me happy.”
Tyler threw his hands up in the air. “Fuck. Can you hear yourself? I’ll have to find a whole new circle of friends, or every woman I date will be picking out a wedding dress.”
<
br /> Brock rolled up the blueprints and handed them back to Tyler. “Tell them your snowstorm story; that should ease their enthusiasm a bit.”
Tyler waved the rolled plans around for emphasis. “You’d think that, but they love to try to reform me. The more of an ass I am, the more they want me. Remember the twin I dated? Summer something. I don’t even remember why we broke up.”
Brock sat in his office chair, leaning back as he did. “Didn’t you tell her you wanted to screw her sister?”
Tyler rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “No, I said it was weird to be dating one when I found both equally attractive.”
“That’s not much better.”
“Well, anyway, the other one, Skylar, hooked up with me last night at Mick’s. At least I think it was Skylar. I was buzzed.”
“You’re an idiot. A talented architect, but an idiot.”
After shrugging, Tyler asked, “Will you be around for the game on Sunday?”
“I don’t think so. Kate and I rented a place on the ocean in Narragansett. It’ll be cold, but the house is beautiful with incredible fireplaces in every room. We have it for the whole weekend.”
Tyler put his winter coat back on. “You’ve got it really bad for this one, Brock. Maybe you should marry her. I’m picturing you if she dumps you, and it’s not pretty.”
“Bye, Tyler.”
Tyler paused at the door of the office trailer and said, “I’ll update the plans and send them over to you tomorrow.”
“Sounds good.”
“Hey, can you think of a smooth way to ask Skylar if she was the one I was with last night? Sometimes I’m too blunt.”
“I’m not getting involved in this one.”
Tyler frowned. “Don’t go getting all high and mighty just because you’ve finally dated a woman longer than a week. You may have her fooled, but I know you’ve done just as much stupid shit as I have.”
Brock neither agreed with nor denied that claim. Long after Tyler left, Brock was still thinking about what Tyler had said. I have done stupid shit. Before Kate and with Kate. I’m just lucky Kate doesn’t know it.
He opened the drawer to his office desk, took out the pre-paid phone he had told himself a least a hundred times to get rid of, and checked to see if there was a new message on it. As always, he was filled with relief when there were none. It meant Kate still didn’t regret her decision.
Looking at the phone again gave Brock the urge to confess everything. However, much like how there was no smooth way to ask a woman if you slept with her or her twin sister the night before, there was also no good way to tell Kate he had lied to her. Kate, you remember that letter you wrote Santa Claus requesting a good old-fashioned, up-against-the-wall, down-and-dirty fucking? Yes, that one. Well, I’m the one who found it. I was Mr. Elf.
No, things were going too well with Kate to fuck it up with the truth.
Realizing that he sounded more like Tyler than he wanted to admit, Brock threw the phone back into the drawer and locked it.
Regardless of how their relationship started, he and Kate were happy together. That’s what matters.
Note to my readers:
If you enjoyed 12 Days of Temptations, look for Be My Temptation and discover what happens when Kate finds Brock’s phone.
Payback is a bitch.
Order Be My Temptation, Book 2 of the Temptation Series now.
Other Books by Ruth Cardello
The Legacy Collection:
*Also available in audiobook format
Book 1: Maid for the Billionaire (available at all major eBook stores for FREE!)
Book 2: For Love or Legacy
Book 3: Bedding the Billionaire
Book 4: Saving the Sheikh
Book 5: Rise of the Billionaire
Book 6: Breaching the Billionaire
Recipe For Love, An Andrade Christmas Novella
Lone Star Burn Series:
Book 1: Taken, Not Spurred
Book 2: Tycoon Takedown (Pre-order now! Releases 03/10/15)
The Andrades
Book 1: Come Away With Me
Book 2: Home to Me
Book 3: Maximum Risk (Pre-order now! Coming 01/27/15!)
Book 4: Somewhere Along the Way (Coming 05/26/15!)
Temptation Series
Book 1: Twelve Days of Temptation
Book 2: Be My Temptation (Pre-order now! Releases 12/02/14)
Other works
Taken by a Trillionaire (Pre-order now! Releases 02/10/15)
About the Author
Ruth Cardello was born the youngest of 11 children in a small city in northern Rhode Island. She spent her young adult years moving as far away as she could from her large extended family. She lived in Boston, Paris, Orlando, New York—then came full circle and moved back to Rhode Island. She now happily lives one town over from the one she was born in. For her, family trumped the warmer weather and international scene.
She was an educator for 20 years, the last 11 as a kindergarten teacher. When her school district began cutting jobs, Ruth turned a serious eye toward her second love– writing and has never been happier. When she’s not writing, you can find her chasing her children around her small farm, riding her horses, or connecting with her readers online.
Contact Ruth:
Website: http://ruthcardello.com/
Email: [email protected]
FaceBook: Author Ruth Cardello
Twitter: @RuthieCardello
Secret Santa
A Bluegrass Series Novella
Kathleen Brooks
Copyright
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
An Original work of Kathleen Brooks
Cover art provided by Calista Taylor. http://www.calistataylor.com
Editing by Karen Lawson. http://www.theproofisinthereading.wordpress.com
Secret Santa, A Bluegrass Series Novella copyright © 2012 by Kathleen Brooks
Books by Kathleen Brooks
Bluegrass Series
Bluegrass State of Mind
Risky Shot
Dead Heat
Bluegrass Brothers Series
Bluegrass Undercover
Rising Storm
Secret Santa, A Bluegrass Series Novella
Acquiring Trouble
Relentless Pursuit
Secrets Collide
Final Vow
Bluegrass Singles
All Hung Up
Bluegrass Dawn
Women of Power Series
Chosen for Power
Built for Power
Fashioned for Power– coming Jan. 2015
Dedication
Happy Holidays to my readers!
Secret Santa is dedicated to you,
the most wonderful readers an author could ever have!
Chapter One
McKenna Mason Ashton pulled over to the side of the road and looked at the town that had been her home for almost two years. She smiled as she remembered the first time she pulled over at this same spot.
She had been driving her cherry red BMW M6 and thought the tree-lined streets of Keeneston resembled Mayberry. Her opinion of Keeneston had changed from the time she arrived though. For one thing her M6 sat in the garage. She closed the door to the pickup truck her husband had bought her and looked out at the trees, now bare of leaves, covered in colorful Christmas lights. Big red bows were tied to the lampposts, which were covered in a dusting of snow that had fallen during the night.
The small town that had seemed so foreign to her after living in New York City was now her hom
e. The people and customs she couldn't understand before were now part of her daily life. She now knew that going to "the sales" meant going to the thoroughbred sales and not to Bloomingdale’s. And that gossip was really just a way for the town to stay connected. Plus, she'd made enough on some of the bets placed at the Blossom Café to buy her ten-month-old daughter Sienna a new winter wardrobe on her latest shopping trip to New York City.
After fleeing from New York, Kenna never thought she'd find such pleasure in working as a small-town district attorney. She didn't miss the 80-hour workweeks she had put in at her old law firm or the dance clubs she visited on occasion with some of her co-workers. They couldn't compare to the joy and love she felt coming home to her husband, Will, and their daughter, Sienna.
Kenna slid back into her truck and drove up Main Street toward her office. She passed the cute stores selling antiques and Christmas decorations. She waved to Daisy Mae Rose as she swept the snow off the sidewalk in front of the Blossom Café with a broom. Miss Daisy's slender, elderly form was covered with a thick knee-length purple down coat. A poof of her white hair was tied back into a bun this morning and accessorized with purple earmuffs. Miss Daisy waved back as Kenna made her way toward her office. She waved at John Wolfe who was making his way to the café and Martha, the D.A.'s cranky assistant, as she crossed the courthouse parking lot.
She had found all this waving and honking so strange before, but now she knew all these people. They were her friends and colleagues and it was just natural to smile and wave. Today was December 23rd, the last day at the office before the long Christmas weekend. She couldn't wait to experience Sienna's first Christmas. She had never been so excited before, or felt so blessed.
