by Taryn Quinn
He laughed, and her tension seeped away. Well, most of it. “I like your house.” He kissed her collarbone with little serpentine flicks of his tongue. “We still have a tree to put up, you know, and Chinese to eat. I also might’ve gotten you a gift.”
“I don’t have anything for you,” she protested.
Grinning, he caressed her still sensitive pussy. “Oh yes, you do. Santa says thank you.”
She forced herself to grin. To be lighthearted, jolly and sexy. “I have a feeling Santa will be even more pleased with me by the end of the night.”
When he rolled away from her and reached for his clothes, she made her peace with her revelation. Whatever happened after tonight, she would be fine. She felt lighter and heavier, all at once. If she hated him just a little for his honor in not even bothering to pretend to love her, she’d get over it eventually.
Getting over stuff was one of her new skills. Along with her speedy typing and her skillful cock sucking, she was on her way to becoming a damn dynamo.
They decorated her tree and scarfed down the Chinese while they watched an all-night Christmas movie fest. He caught her eyeing his gift and plopped it in her lap, making her open it despite her complaints.
“You shouldn’t have done this.” She pulled on the ribbon and gave into her urge to shake the box. It barely rattled. “How about I buy you lunch next week—” She thumbed up the lid, biting her lip. “Oh.”
“I know you said you didn’t like music boxes, but I wanted to try to change your mind. Or at least maybe improve your opinion.” He popped the lid of the carved crystal box, unveiling a small skater on a pond who did figure eights in front of a charmingly decorated house to “I’ll Be Home For Christmas”.
God, she was getting misty again. What the heck was going on with her hormones?
She blinked rapidly and smiled. “It doesn’t sound tinny.”
“No. Took some doing to find one that didn’t in a shop that was still open on Christmas Eve. I got lucky.” He touched her cheek and made her look at him. “You don’t like it.”
“You’re right, I don’t like it—I love it.” She grinned and kissed his scruffy jaw. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Maybe it was the way his eyes twinkled or the lateness of the hour, but an explanation tumbled forth before she thought to stop it. “My dad used to buy them for me. He gave me one every Christmas.”
“I didn’t see them in your room.”
She glanced down at the skater, still moving in methodical circles. “They’re in boxes, packed away. I haven’t been able to stand looking at them for so long.”
“If this is too painful for you—”
“No. No,” she repeated, rising. “In fact, I want to show you one of the others he gave me. I think you’d like it.”
He accepted the hand she extended and stood beside her. “Show me.”
They ended up looking at all ten of her music boxes. He didn’t seem bored by the accompanying stories and even helped her dust each one off and clear a bookshelf to display them. It was awfully crowded, but at least they weren’t in boxes anymore.
No matter what happened between them, she had him to thank for that.
Just before three, they crawled into her bed and took their sweet time tearing up the sheets she’d neatly remade. With her body warm from his, she dropped deeply into sleep, smiling at the weight of his arm on her belly.
The sound of knocking jerked Wendy up on her elbows. Another knock, louder this time. Blearily, she swung her head around to search for the source.
Shit. Fuck. Damn. Someone was out in the hall.
She snatched the sheet and held it over her bare breasts as she shot a glance at Des, who was happily sawing them off.
“Hang on,” she called out, scrambling up so fast that she caught her foot in the comforter on her way to the cold hardwood floor. “One more minute.”
Too late. The door was already opening.
Just as she glimpsed her mom and aunt’s shocked expressions, she realized that her graceless tumble off the bed had bared her lover’s impressive morning wood for all to see.
“Merry Christmas,” she muttered.
Chapter 8
To her mom’s credit, she didn’t freak out at finding a strange man in her supposedly single daughter’s bed. Aunt Gert was a harder sell, wailing about violating the sanctity of marriage and such, but her mom got her settled down and out of the house before she shattered any windows with her screeching protests.
Then it was just Mrs. Stanton, Wendy, and Des—who’d yet to stop grinning despite being ogled by two senior citizens before breakfast.
And his secretary. His secretary had definitely done her share of ogling too.
Since her mom was feeling good, she made them a breakfast of whole wheat waffles and turkey sausage. Discovering Des was a vegan made her mom’s eyes glint. The one thing she’d disliked about Wendy’s dad was his refusal to give up hunting. Des’s love of animals definitely erased any lingering effects from finding him naked in Wendy’s bed, though once she’d learned who he was she hadn’t been too upset. She knew how Wendy felt about him.
Hell, from the way she was glowing that morning, the mailman could’ve figured it out.
“Wendy never stops talking about you,” Mrs. Stanton said, ignoring Wendy’s plaintive groan. “You’re every bit as handsome as she said.”
Des continued sipping his coffee. He didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed by that morning’s events. “Your daughter’s too kind.”
“Not too kind. Wendy’s just grateful as all get out for everything you’ve done for us. She’s downright effusive about you. You’ve changed our lives for the better, son. Sweet Mary, you even brought us a beautiful little tree.” She shocked the hell out of Wendy by getting up to kiss Des flush on the mouth. “Thank you so much.”
Though Des smiled and returned her embrace, his jaw had gone hard and tight. “Wendy’s a wonderful secretary and an even better person. You raised a terrific daughter, Mrs. Stanton.”
“Call me Noreen.” With that, she shuffled away from the table with her cup of tea. She probably had no clue about the stink bomb she’d just set off in the center of the kitchen.
From Des’s expression, he was already choking on the stench.
“Look, I can explain—” Wendy began the moment they were alone.
“Don’t.” He tossed his napkin on the table and stalked to the window. It was snowing outside and looked as pretty as a damn postcard. Inside all she could feel was the arctic chill.
She traced her finger over the wet spot on the table from her glass of orange juice. “You knew I feel grateful to you. You can’t be that surprised.”
He didn’t speak for what felt like an eternity. “No. I’m not.”
“Then?”
The hunch of his shoulders might’ve convinced her he was cold if the apartment hadn’t been as hot as the surface of Venus. “I thought as much, but to have your mom say it is different.”
“What are you talking about?”
He turned to face her, his eyes more turbulent than she’d ever seen them. “You’re not really in love with me. You just think you are because I helped you out.”
Clearly, she was going to have to stand up for this conversation. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“I did, but you’re talking nonsense.” She walked over to him and skewered her nail into his chest. He didn’t even wince. His pain receptors had likely gone into hibernation from all her scratching last night. “Am I grateful for all you’ve done for me and my mama? Hell yeah. You didn’t have to be so sweet to us. To me.”
His stubborn nod made her want to kick him. “Gratitude and love are easy to mix up.”
“Don’t make me kick you in the nuts on Christmas morning, Des. So help me, if you don’t let me finish, I will.”
He didn’t smile, but he did gesture for her to continue.
“None of that made me fall in love wi
th you. I didn’t fall for my accountant who got me those extra deductions that saved me a grand last year. I didn’t fall for my garbageman when he said he’d take our old dresser even though the guidelines said it was too big. I freaking fell in love with you because you make me laugh without ever making me cry.” She swallowed over the rising lump in her throat. “At least not yet.”
He stroked her trembling lower lip. She couldn’t stand how emotional he made her, but that was probably part of the whole love thing. “What about Cole?”
“What about him?”
“Are you grateful to him too?” he asked quietly.
“Of course,” she snapped. “But I don’t love him. I only love you, you dolt.”
Again he didn’t speak. But he smiled, so slow and wide that it teased out her own smile in response. “I believe you.”
“As you should.”
“I do.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “And I love you too.”
Before she had a chance to whoop and holler her joy, he drew back and gripped her upper arms. His face was even more serious than before. “Will you start ripping off the days of my calendar again?”
“You noticed I stopped?”
“Of course I did. I had no clue which day was which anymore.”
Laughing, she wrapped her arms around his waist. He was so warm and sturdy and God, he made her feel safe. And happy. So very happy. “I didn’t want the days to pass so I stopped tearing the pages off. Every one that went by I knew we were closer to being finished.”
“We won’t ever be finished.” He ran his hand down the length of her hair. “In fact, I think we should take this upstairs.”
“With my mom in the living room?”
He only grinned. “The TV’s on loud. Besides, she’s already seen my equipment. Why not hear it at work making you moan too?”
“Ugh! Your sense of humor is seriously disgusting.” She laughed as he dragged her toward the doorway.
At the foot of the stairs, she stopped him with an impish smile. “Wait. I have one more question.”
“What’s that?”
She leaned close to his ear and spoke in a whisper. “What did Cole name my…pussy?” There, she’d said it. And she hadn’t even burst into hysterical giggles.
But Des didn’t notice her inner triumph, because he was too busy laughing. “Sorry. He never told me.” With a wink, he chucked her chin. “Guess you’ll have to ask him first thing on Monday when he gets back.”
“Maybe I’ll just name your penises instead. Secret names that I’ll only share with Van.” As soon as she mentioned her friend’s name, she frowned. “What are we going to tell her?”
“The truth. We’re a couple and that won’t change anything at work.” His expression softened and her knees literally went weak. “No more hiding, baby.”
She fought not to do a booty dance but it was pretty much a lost cause. She added in one of her improvised carols as she jumped from stair to stair.
When he made a grab for her, she squealed and ran faster with him hot on her heels. They had a ton of celebrating left to do.
This year, Christmas frigging rocked.
Epilogue
“You need to tell me what to do.”
Wendy sighed and toyed with the strand of leaves strung up around the front of her desk. “How am I supposed to tell you what to do about your love life? You do whatever you want, we both know that.”
“Yeah, but your freaking love life makes me sick.”
Wendy grinned at Van. Hers was pretty awesome, she couldn’t deny that. “That’s not a very nice thing to say when you’re asking me for advice.”
“It’s a total compliment, I swear.” Van eased a hip on the edge of Wendy’s desk and blinked entreatingly. “You’re basically a romance expert now. So I’m coming to you to beg for assistance.”
“You’re not asking for romance assistance. You want me to tell you how to bag Cole. And I can’t.”
“Why not?” Van pouted and twisted the chunky sapphire ring on her thumb. “You don’t want me to be happy?”
“Of course I do. But you just got out of a relationship and he’s…well, he’s Cole. Impossible to pin down.”
Vanessa leaned forward and gave her a bright smile. “Not if you help me. We can ambush him.”
Wendy raised a brow and reclined in her chair. It was the Friday before Labor Day weekend, and she’d just finished decorating the office for fall. Little light-up acorns and pumpkins adorned the front windows and fake leaves hung from every surface.
Good thing her boyfriend of almost nine months—nine months!—was so patient about her need to plaster everything with frou-frou plastic embellishments or else she’d likely be single and out of a job.
“Define ambush.”
“Well, see, here’s the thing. You and Des are so committed to each other that basically nothing can break you two up. And Cole’s up for anything and so am I. Put all those ingredients together and you have a recipe for—”
“Wait a frigging second.” Wendy’s eyes went wide to match her surely gaping mouth. “You’re not suggesting we have a foursome, are you?” Who suggested that kind of thing? At work no less, in the middle of a Friday afternoon?
This was what she got for working in an office with non-traditional, incredibly sexy bosses. Apparently the rarefied air in the place had even infected Van.
Van shrugged, her innocent act not fooling Wendy one bit. “C’mon, don’t act like such a prude. You told me what you did with the two of them. What’s adding one more person?”
Wendy cast a quick glance left then right. “We did that before Des and I hooked up for good.” Why had she confessed that dirty secret anyway? Other than wanting to brag a little, because, seriously, Des and Cole were too hot to believe, especially as a duo. “We haven’t gone near Cole since before Christmas.”
“But don’t you miss it?” Van waggled her perfectly groomed blonde brows. “It’s hard to tuck the freaky back down once you’ve let it out. Trust me, sista, I know.”
Wendy fanned her face and not because she was considering this absolutely insane idea. She wasn’t a freak. Hadn’t she made that bargain with herself to enjoy her few wild weeks with Cole and Des and then move on? That she’d ended up with Des permanently had just been gooey, delicious frosting on the cake.
“Des wouldn’t be into that,” she said quickly, happy to use her boyfriend as an out.
The man in question breezed down the hall, a stack of mail gripped in his broad hand. “Des wouldn’t be into what?” he asked, leaning down to kiss Wendy full on the mouth.
Van groaned. “More PDAs? Jesus.”
“With what you just suggested, you’re mad that he kissed me? Whoa, hello hypocrite,” Wendy muttered as Des shifted back and dumped the mail in her outbox tray. “I’ll drop that off on the way out tonight, honey,” she added to him.
“PDAs and endearments.” Van shook her head, her eyes gleaming. “I may gag.”
“Deal with it,” Des advised, sitting on the other corner of Wendy’s desk and breaking off one of her plastic leaves in the process. He picked it up off the floor with an apologetic wince. “Sorry.”
“No problem.” Wendy tugged out her top drawer and nodded toward the contents with a grin. Another strand of leaves were coiled up inside. She was saving those for Des’s office. “I always have extra leaves to go around.”
“What about penises?”
When Des and Wendy turned equally shocked expressions toward Van, she merely shrugged. “Des, your girlfriend is turning into a prude. You may want to do something about that before the condition becomes irreversible.”
Des grinned and reached out to stroke Wendy’s hair. She tried not to arch into the touch but it was damned hard. “I assure you that’s not true.”
“Whatever.” Van shook her head and stood. “You guys have a nice weekend. I need to go bolster myself for another ladies’ night at the bar since my supposed friend isn’t willing to share
the wealth.” With a flounce of her blonde curls, Van sashayed over to her cubicle.
Wendy’s shoulders sank with relief. Bullet dodged.
Des rubbed the back of Wendy’s hand and caught her attention. “What is she talking about? Dare I even ask?”
“No.” Wendy closed her eyes. “Really, it’s better if you don’t.”
“It’s about Cole, isn’t it? Those two have been circling each other so long I’m surprised they haven’t done it in the bathroom yet.”
“That may come.”
“I sure hope not.” He tipped up her chin and she opened her eyes, smiling as he lowered his mouth to hers. “The bathroom holds fond memories for you and me.”
They kissed for a couple minutes in that light, playful, non-sexual way that Wendy had discovered she absolutely adored. Some parts of being a couple were downright amazing.
Others, such as complete honesty, sometimes sucked.
“It does.” Sighing, she slid back and decided to just get it over with. “Van wants us to have a foursome to, I think, break the ice with her and Cole. Crazy, huh?”
He gazed at her for so long that her previously steady heartbeat edged up into the cardiac zone. Then he rubbed the corner of her mouth with his thumb. “That depends on you.”
“You’re not serious?”
“Have you forgotten how we got together, baby?”
“No. But that’s us. That’s not Van, Cole and us. Plus she’s…female.”
His mouth quirked. “So if she was another he, you’d consider it?”
Heat blasted up her neck and into her cheeks. “No,” she said primly. “I am in a committed relationship. Therefore, I have no need for threesomes, foursomes or moresomes. You are all I want.”
“Glad to hear it and ditto.” He pushed back her hair and she smiled, rubbing her cheek over his palm. Thank God this conversation was over.
“But, you know, that doesn’t mean we can’t ever experiment. Just as an one-off thing.” His nonchalant tone didn’t fool her for a minute.
She looked up at him, unable to hide her shock. “You really want to do this? You want to see me and Cole…again? And you want to…with Van? Maybe even me and Van—” She couldn’t even speak around the embarrassment clenching her throat. As far as they’d come in the past year, she still had her shy moments. This qualified. “I’m not a lesbian.”