“Sometimes when you smile, I look at you and lose track of what I’m doing,” I tell her and for once, I’m not feeding a girl a line. I’m being completely upfront with her.
Shock moves over her face and I can literally see it. Her eyes go round in surprise and she blushes.
“I was telling you that it feels like you don’t really like Christmas and I can’t understand why you asked me to help you, if you don’t.”
“I love Christmas,” I tell her—lying through my fucking teeth.
“You do?”
“And I can honestly tell you Joy that with you involved, I’m liking Christmas more and more.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. I was actually dreading this Christmas before I met you Joy. I owe you for helping me find the old Christmas spirit.”
“Now you’re just making things up.”
“Nope. I’m being completely truthful. Scout’s honor.”
“Were you ever a scout, Eb?” she asks with a smile.
“Once a very long time ago,” I tell her, even though the memory is not a good one, I don’t let her in on that sad truth.
“Well then, I’m going to make it my job to bring you all the Christmas joy I can.”
“I can hardly wait,” I say with a grin. “I’m dying for more of Christmas Joy.” I tell her, and even though I figure we’re talking about two very different things, I still feel like I just scored the winning touchdown.
Joy has no idea what’s in store for her.
Chapter 9
Joy
“Want to come back to my place? We could have a nightcap, watch a movie…” Eb asks, his full lips stretching into a smile that looks inviting, but also reminds me of a wolf getting ready to devour its prey.
My legs go weak and it feels like I have to push air through my lungs. He wraps a strand of my hair around his fingers, his dark gaze following the movement. I moisten my lips with my tongue, trying to find my voice. I really want to say yes, but I barely know Eb and I have a feeling if I took him up on his offer—I wouldn’t be leaving until morning.
“I better not, I have to work early in the morning,” I answer, my voice a mixture of breathless excitement and nerves. “If I don’t get to bed early, I’ll oversleep,” I add, clearly rattling.
“You could grab your pajamas and come stay with me. I’ll make sure you get in bed really early.”
“Uh—”
“I’ll even make sure you get up early too.”
“I’m not sure we know each other enough for me to take you up on that offer,” I answer, and I have to force the words out of my mouth. I really don’t want to tell him no, even if it is the wisest thing to do.
“If you come home with me, we’ll definitely get to know each other much better.”
“Are you trying to seduce me, Eb?” I ask, because I know he is. It’s just a shock that he’s coming on so strong after a fun and flirty day.
“Could I?”
“Probably…” I whisper, as his head drops closer to mine. “In time…”
“Kiss me, Joy,” he says right before his lips touch mine.
There’s something about the taste of a man’s lips, the elemental flavor when they invade your mouth that I’ve always liked. I’ve not kissed a lot of men, but each one has been different, unique. Some I have liked. Some I never wanted to repeat and one or two that I have held close in my memory. I’m thirty years old and I don’t think I’ve ever tasted a man’s kiss that made me want to moan from the beginning. And, it’s not just his taste. It’s the growl he emits as he devours me. The forcefulness of his hold on me and the way he takes charge. It’s all of that combined and more. In all of my thirty years, I’ve never been exposed to someone as masculine as Eb.
When we finally break apart, I have to lean on him until my legs can hold me up once again. His fingers are biting into my skin, but I like it. There will probably be bruises on my hips where he’s holding me and I find I don’t care at all.
“Last chance beautiful,” he says and it might be my imagination, but I think his voice is filled with hunger.
“I…” I war with myself. I want to say yes, but I’ve learned that snap decisions are not good—especially when it involves romance. I’ve been burned before and I’m not ready to go down that road again. “I better not,” I whisper instead and it’s surprising how much those words hurt.
He pulls away with a frown. He walks backwards a few steps, his gaze appraising me.
“You know where I am, Christmas Joy,” he responds and then turns around and leaves. I stand there looking at him, watching until he makes it to his house and closes the front door.
Sadness fills me, along with a feeling that I’ve made a mistake…
Chapter 10
Eb
I may have outplayed this little endeavor. I’m never had a problem getting a woman underneath me. Usually my fame, pocketbook, and the fact my books hit the New York Times Bestseller list on a regular basis do that for me. Joy is different. She didn’t ask one damn thing about my writing, not over dinner and not throughout the day. We talked about a million things, but none of them revolved around my work. I didn’t realize that until the night came to an end. I have no idea what it means.
I probably know more about Joy after our day together than I’ve known about any other woman in my life, which is fucking weird.
I know she owns her own bakery, loves Christmas, and decorates her trees in themes every year. I know that this year the theme is old fashioned snowmen and last year it was Santa. I know she loves to bake, but hates cooking. I know she will be alone this Christmas because her sister is out of town with her fiancé’s family, and they usually spend Christmas together. Hell, I even know that her favorite color is red and her favorite tree is a Holly tree.
This is all useless information that for some reason I took in today, because… I liked her. I even talked about myself, which is something I’ve never done much of. I don’t share myself with others easily—it’s different with Joy for some reason.
Still, I don’t need to tie myself up in knots over a girl and I don’t have time to invest in a long term thing. Today was good, but without a reward I don’t need to waste the effort. I have a damn deadline looming over my head.
I stare at my laptop. I could write, but I’m not feeling it tonight. I’ll take a shower, clear my head of all things Joy and start fresh tomorrow.
It sounds like an excellent plan, but when I get there even the hot water and steam fails to remove Joy from my mind. The feel of the water moving over my skin just makes me think more about her. Drying off, I imagine her drying me.
Christ. I need to get laid. I’ve been without a woman for far too long and for some reason Joy has started a fire in my blood. One that apparently she’s not willing to quench. Damn her.
I toss and turn for a few minutes and curse all things Christmas and blond women everywhere when I decide to quit fighting it. I flop to my back and grab my cock in my hand, closing my eyes and picturing Joy between my legs with those thick, lush, wet lips about to slide down on my cock and devour me.