Christmas Treats - A Collection of Holiday Rom-coms

by Piper Rayne

  I turn to face him, my cheeks aflame, waiting for him to break the silence.

  Declan clears his throat. “I’m sorry.” He’s looking pretty much anywhere but at me. “You smell like a patisserie, and I lost focus for a second.”

  “Oh!” I perk up, happy to have a safe topic to veer toward. “That’s because I’ve been making jelly donuts every evening for weeks. I’ve been experimenting with new fillings. You want to try the flavor of the day?”

  “You bake?” He looks at me with surprise evident in his eyes.

  “Yes, well, fry in this particular instance,” I answer, trying to keep my cool and steer the atmosphere back to friendly professionalism. “Which is probably why the scent is so strong.”

  “What’s the flavor of the day?”

  “Coconut dark chocolate.” I circle my desk to pull the airtight container out of the bottom drawer, ignoring Declan clearing his throat again when I bend over. “I’ve been working on a special holiday version.”

  “Do tell.” Declan smiles as he approaches me and picks a powdered donut out of the container.

  “You’ll have to wait for the office Christmas party like everyone else for that one,” I declare, and Declan chuckles before taking a bite out of the puffy pastry in his hand.

  “Oh, my God.” His brown eyes grow wide, and a groan leaves his lips with every bite. I have to hold back a moan every time that sound of unadulterated pleasure is released into the world while trying not to imagine how much more profound and sweeter it would be if he were feasting on me.

  “Want another?” I offer, slightly out of breath. Declan looks down at the box in my hand in thought, licking powdered sugar from his lips.

  Panties ruined.

  His eyes shoot up to my face, eyebrows arched high as he stares at me in shock.

  “I just said that out loud, didn’t I?” Declan slowly nods, and my face is on fire, rapidly getting hotter by the second.

  “Maybe we should call it a night,” he suggests to my great relief.

  “Yes,” I agree, a bit too eagerly. “We’re overworked, and things got a bit weird…”

  I let the sentence fade and busy myself closing the container and placing it back in the drawer. When I turn around, I’m met with a crisp white shirt stretched over solid pecks.

  Looking up, I gasp at the intensity in Declan’s eyes, his jaw locked in the way I’ve come to recognize means he’s grappling with a difficult decision.

  “What happens if I kiss you, Eloise?” he finally asks.

  “I’d probably kiss you back.”

  “Good.” He tucks an escaped curl behind my ear before leaning down, his lips brushing over mine.

  It takes my brain a second to unfreeze and start sending commands to the rest of my body, but when it does… Oh boy.

  My arms circle his neck, my body presses firmly against him, and my mouth moves over his with hunger.

  Declan takes a moment to register the shift in my attitude, but quickly adjusts to my assertiveness, palms on my ass lifting me off the floor and onto the desk as his tongue prods my lips open.

  The sweetness of powdered sugar mixed with the bitterness of dark chocolate ganache attacks my taste buds as he ravishes me, impatient hands ripping my blouse open to explore the bare skin of my stomach. My fingers find his zipper, but when I start to lower it, Declan suddenly pulls back, eyes wide as he tugs it back up.

  “Dec—” I begin to protest only to be cut off.

  “You weren’t kidding about kissing me back.” He tries to joke, his eyes glued to me in a mix of desire and dread as he steps away from between my knees.

  “You seemed to like it,” I observe, while a surge of disappointment mixed with frustration rises in my chest, knocking my ego down a good few notches.

  “Too much. I was at the point of not being able to stop,” he admits.

  “I didn’t want you to stop.” I don’t miss how his eyes drift over my body on their own accord, stopping at the exposed skin of my upper thigh.

  “Fuck.” He runs his fingers through his tousled hair. “I’m your boss. Your direct supervisor, Elle. We can’t do this.”

  “Right.” I recognize how real his distress is and pull at the torn fabric of my blouse to cover myself, my ego still not entirely recovered, and my frustration still full-fledged. But at least I know it isn’t personal. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong,” he tries to assure me as I jump off the desk, realizing I’ve lost my right shoe.

  “Could you help me find my shoe?” I ask when looking around doesn’t yield any results.

  “Sure.” Declan smiles at me with relief evident in his voice, walking around the room and checking nooks and corners, until he finally finds the missing ochre suede Collette behind one of the armchairs.

  “How’d it get all the way over there?” I wonder, and Declan shrugs.

  “It must have flung off when I lifted you.”

  Our eyes lock when I reach out to take my shoe, my breath becoming short as we stare at each other, nothing but a shoe between us, waiting for the other to decide where it will drop.

  6

  Declan

  Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck

  The word is jumping around my head like a maniac squirrel on speed. Swearing or wishful thinking? A little of both, I reckon.

  We’re just standing there, holding that damn shoe from both ends staring at each other. Elle’s hand, the one holding her torn blouse closed, drops to her side with a shaky breath. I don’t think she even noticed it happening, but it comes close to demolishing whatever self-restraint I still have, that simple white bra with a touch of lace covering her soft sun-kissed skin.

  “Fuck,” I mutter and let go of the shoe, turning my back to her. “I’m sorry, Elle.”

  “Yeah, me too,” she answers from behind me, and I hear her hurry out.

  “Damn it.” I sigh and run my palm over my face before pulling out my phone. “Linc, I need to get wasted and laid.”

  My jaw clenches at his over the top snort. “We aren’t twenty Dec. It isn’t cool to drink till you don’t remember she even went home with you.”

  “I almost had sex with Eloise on her desk.”

  “Eloise as in your hot employee?” Lincoln sounds almost bored. “Shocker.”

  “Yeah, you sound positively rattled.”

  “Only about how long it took,” he clarifies dryly.

  “And since when do we think Eloise is hot?” I ask with an irate tone.

  “Since you first told me about her before I even saw her.” Linc laughs. “Are you seriously unaware of how into her you’ve been since she started working for the firm?”

  “I don’t piss where I swim, Lincoln, and I definitely don’t fuck my direct subordinates.”

  “Only almost fuck them.”

  “Fuck you, asshole,” I snap at him and hang up, only to receive a message three seconds later.

  Linc: Meet you at the bar in 15?

  Dec: Yes.

  Dec: Asshole.

  Some hours later, I find myself staggering through a hallway with terrible wallpaper to a brown door with an adorable star charm tied to a blue string decorating it.

  I chuckle to myself as I play with the star for a few seconds before remembering why I’m even there and rapping on the door.

  After a couple of minutes of insistent knocking, the door opens. Elle stands there in mint-green shorts and a long-sleeved gray T, her hair in a messy bun, blinking at me through a sleepy haze.

  “Fuck, you’re sexy,” I declare, and her eyebrows shoot up.

  “What are you doing here, Declan?”

  “I went out with Linc. He’s my best friend from the police academy. He’s a really good guy, you’ll love him. He thinks you’re hot. He’s smart.” I grin, but Elle just seems irritated. “Anyway, we went to a bar, and I tried to find someone to take home and fuck you out of my brain, but it seems you’re lodged in there pretty strong, so here I am!”
I flash my most charming grin, which only causes Elle’s frown to deepen, so I deliver the winning line. “I am only hard for you, sweets.”

  “Gross.” Elle shoves me back when I try to take a step forward.

  “Come on, Elle. You can’t honestly say you haven’t been thinking about that kiss all night.”

  “You’re drunk, Dec. Go home, sleep it off,” she orders with anger. “With any luck, you won’t remember any of this in the morning.”

  “Kiss goodnight?” I lean forward with my eyes closed and lips puckered just as she slams the door in my face, and a blinding pain splits my forehead before everything goes black.

  7

  Declan

  Holy crap on a cracker.

  That’s the only thought that manages to penetrate the splitting headache pounding my brain into total submission, no lube included.

  It takes a few more minutes, but eventually, the fog clears enough for my eyes to take in my surroundings. Nothing about the soft purples and a beige bed setting or the cream walls with modern art on canvas hanging on them looks familiar.

  “Where the fuck…?” I mutter, forcing myself to stand, startling when a wet towel plops at my feet.

  Touching my forehead, I realize it’s wet, and when I pull my fingers back, I see the water has a reddish hue to it.

  “The hell?” I look around again, trying to get my bearings and figure out whose bedroom I'm in when I hear someone talking from outside the room. Following the sound, I start walking down a short, brightly lit corridor.

  The smell hits me before recognition of the voices does. I would have known where I am even without identifying two of the three people talking.

  “Linc? Elle?” I groan at the bright lights of what turns out to be the kitchen. “What’s going on?”

  “What’s going on is that you’re an asshole,” the third speaker snarls at me. He’s a tall man with skin the color of chocolate and eyes to match, dark curls framing his masculine features. It takes me only a second before I recognize him from the photos Elle showed Carmine. It’s the sculptor, Connor.

  “I don’t…” I start, justifying that I have no idea what he’s talking about, only to frown when fuzzy memories start surfacing. One such hazy occurrence is the line of epically dickish proportions I dropped on Elle. “Shit. Eloise, I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m sorry I slammed the door on your face,” Elle answers in a croaky voice, and I notice her eyes are puffy and red as well, tears welling in them as she speaks.

  “Are you kidding? I’m surprised you didn’t leave me lying in the corridor, or call the police,” I hurry to try and assure her.

  “I am the police, you creatine,” Lincoln snaps, his ice-blond strands shaking about with the motion of his head. “I’m sorry, Elle, this is my fault. I should have made sure the dumbass actually got into the house.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself, detective.” Connor places a hand on Lincoln’s muscular arm as he fawns over him. “We will, however, understand if you’re in the market for new friends.”

  “Stop hitting on him, Connor. He isn’t gay.” Elle rolls her eyes fondly. “I caught those baby-blues staring my ass at least three times.”

  “Don’t stop, Con.” Lincoln winks with a chuckle. “I’m not gay, that much is true, but I’m confident enough in my sexuality to take a compliment for what it is, especially from a good-looking man like yourself.”

  “Oh my.” Connor fans himself excessively. “Elle, I’m in love.”

  “And I’m still here,” I remind them, starting to get pissed off about this conversation, the part about Linc checking out Elle’s ass being the most significant irritation factor thus far. He’s a good-looking guy and has that naughty boy vibe that comes complete with a signature up-to-no-good grin. The last thing I want is Linc throwing his irresistible charms Elle’s direction.

  “I’d like to have a word with Elle, privately,” I announce.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Declan,” Elle whispers, wringing the end of her sleeves. “We need to keep working together, and I don’t want to risk making things worse by dwelling on a stupid drunken mistake.”

  “Okay,” I concede, because, frankly, I’m not sure what I want to say to her. “I, uh...” I sigh and rub a hand over my jaw. “Sorry seems a bit of a cop-out.”

  Lincoln seems to feel sorry for me, his brows drawn together as he looks me over. “Come on, Dec. I’ll take you home.” He turns back to Eloise and Connor. “It was a pleasure meeting both of you, I hope we can do this again under better circumstances.”

  “Thank you for coming over at such an hour, Linc.” Elle circles the table and throws her arms around Linc’s neck in a tight hug.

  “Anytime, gorgeous.” Lincoln winks with a wide grin, the one that tends to scramble a girl’s brain. Though the only one in the room who seems to be affected is Connor.

  “Detective, you tuck those pearly whites away, or you will have death by overdose of charm on your hands.”

  “I like him,” Linc directs at Elle, who is laughing uncontrollably and shaking her head, the sound relieving some of the tension in the air.

  “I’ll see you in the office?” I ask Elle, and she nods with a small smile.

  Once we’re in the car, Lincoln turns to me with a mix of anger and bewilderment. “Holy fuck, Dec. What in the world possessed you to knock on that poor girl’s door at 11 PM on a Tuesday?”

  “About five fingers of bourbon.”

  “Elle called me from your phone, which means she has your password, and we are totally going to talk about that once I’m done chewing you out.” Linc gives me a pointed look and starts the engine. “She was sobbing like crazy; I thought you were dead. Thank God Connor was there. I’m not equipped to handle this crap, you asshole, so you better get your shit together, or next time I’m going to arrest you.”

  “Noted,” I clip, rubbing my aching forehead.

  “What did you say to her that made her crack your skull open, anyway?”

  “The details are a bit fuzzy, and I’d rather not repeat what I do remember.”

  Linc drives in silence until we stop at a red light, then turns to look at me. “You have it bad, Dec. And Elle really likes you, too, God knows why. I’d give a kidney for something like that, and all you’re risking is a stupid job.”

  “My job isn’t stupid,” I grumble. “And it’s Elle’s job too.”

  “You understand what I’m saying, asshole,” Linc huffs in frustration. “And get your damn jealousy under control, Dec.”

  Jealousy. So that’s what the weird annoyance toward everyone who dared look at Elle was.

  “I’ll fix it,” I promise, more to myself than to anyone else. “Whatever it takes.”

  8

  Eloise

  There’s something eerie about being in the office alone at 8 PM. But I don’t have a choice. Our deadline is fast approaching, and since I’ve been leaving earlier than usual to avoid being alone with Declan, I’m totally backlogged.

  “Elle?” Declan’s voice from the door of my office makes me jump with a shriek. “Sorry, I’m sorry!” he hurries to apologize.

  “What are you doing here?” My heart is still racing like crazy as I attempt to calm my breathing. “I thought you took off early for a doctor’s appointment.”

  “I did. I forgot my laptop,” he explains, showing me the computer in his hand. “I saw the lights on in your office, and I thought you’d forgotten to turn them off.”

  “No. Just catching up on my workload for the Bleeker account.”

  “A workload created because of me?” Declan asks ruefully, and I respond by pursing my lips and looking away. “I’ve been trying to give you your space, at least until I figure out how to fix this.”

  “I know, right?” I huff in annoyance. “We worked so well together before… It’s so stupid to toss that away because of one stupid drunken mistake.”

  “Work?” He frowns. “Screw work, Eloise. I’m talking about fix
ing us.”

  “What us, Declan?” I start losing my cool, my voice raising an octave, and I throw my hands up in exasperation. “There is no us. We kissed. Once. That’s it.”

  “Yes, Elle, that was it,” Declan agrees, taking a step toward me with blazing eyes and tossing his computer on one of the armchairs. “That was the biggest it moment I have ever had because despite the crooked way I chose to say it, everything I said that night was true. You’ve been plaguing my thoughts since I met you. I’ve been wanting to kiss you that way all year, Elle. Christ, can’t you see how head over heels I am for you?”

  “You are?” I look long and hard at Declan, his face flushed, his chest heaving, and his eyes desperate.

  “I gave you the password to my phone.”

  “I thought that was for work.”

  Declan barks out a laugh, then sighs and rubs his eyes. “That kiss, that fucking epic kiss, Elle…” He looks up at me, pleading. “How was I supposed to push it all back into a locked box after that kiss?”

  “You can’t.”

  “And I don’t want to.” And with those words, he takes two long strides and pulls me flush against his body, hand in my hair tilting my head back to look into his deep brown eyes. “Tell me you still want me.”

  “I still want you.”

  His mouth descends over mine. The contact of his demanding lips causes heat to burst through my body, and when his tongue slides past my parted lips, I let out a soft whimper of need.

  “Elle…” he growls out a warning, to which I respond by sliding my hand down his front and over his prominent manhood. Dec catches my wrist and brings my palm to his lips, planting a soft kiss in it.

  “Is this the part where you tell me that can never happen again?”

  “No. This is the part where I ask your place or mine,” Dec replies with a slow, sexy grin. “I have to draw a line somewhere, like having sex in the office. But no more copping out, Elle.”