Christmas at the Tycoon's Command

by Jennifer Hayward

  Chloe kicked off her shoes in the foyer and walked into the open-concept living room with its jaw-dropping panorama of Manhattan. Oyster suede sofas and tan leather chairs were scattered around the space, gleaming birch floors a perfect foil for the dark architecture of the room. But she was too nervous to sit still, Mireille’s analysis of Nico burned into her brain.

  Nico isn’t a forever kind of guy. He’s a night-to-remember guy.

  Her stomach swooped, like a book dropping off a high shelf. Was she crazy to think she could handle this? What if she couldn’t? What if she was a disaster in bed with him—too nervous to enjoy any of it? She’d slept with only one man in her entire life, and that hadn’t been a momentous experience.

  She stood there, stomach crawling with nerves, until she heard the swish of the elevator arriving. The sound of Nico depositing his keys on the front table. She didn’t turn around when he walked into the living room because she was too apprehensive to. The thud of his jacket hitting the sofa made her jump. Sent goose bumps to every inch of her skin as the sound of jazzy, sexy music filled the room.

  Part of his practiced seduction routine? She almost jumped out of her skin when his hands settled around her waist and he pulled her back against him, his delicious dark, sensual scent wrapping itself around her.

  “Maybe we should have a drink,” she breathed. “I seem to be a bit jumpy.”

  “We don’t need a drink,” he said huskily. “I think we should dance instead. I didn’t get a chance to do that with you. Not the way I wanted to.”

  She sucked in badly needed air. Closed her eyes as he bit down ever so gently on her earlobe, the sensual caress ricocheting through her. “How would that be?” she managed to croak.

  He didn’t answer. Turned her around and took her in his arms instead. The fingers of one hand laced through hers, he splayed the other across her hip. Possessive, intimate, it made her pulse pound.

  His forehead resting against hers, they danced to the sultry tune. Their bodies in perfect sync, as if they’d been molded to fit together, it was, quite simply, the most heart-stoppingly romantic moment of her life.

  “Nico,” she murmured. And then his mouth was on hers, his thumb stroking her cheek, the slow, leisurely slide of their lips against each other like the magical prelude to a passionate symphony that would only build and grow.

  She stood on tiptoe. Curved her fingers around his neck. Moved deeper into the kiss until she wasn’t sure where she began and he ended. His fingers at her jaw, he angled her head to position her the way he wanted her. She opened her mouth to his command, was rewarded by the lazy, sensual slide of his tongue against hers. Deeper, hotter the kiss went until every limb in her body melted, utterly supine against his.

  He moved the hand he had at her hip down over her bottom. Cupped her in his palm and brought her closer until she felt the thick, hard evidence of his erection against her. Her knees went weak, threatened to give way, but his hand at her buttock held her easily. Kept her pressed against his impressive arousal, his physical strength vastly exciting to her.

  So this was the kind of dance he’d been talking about. Her blood thundered in her veins, her heart battered up against her ribs, every inch of her skin pulsed to life. It was like she’d spent her entire adult existence waiting for him to touch her like this. She wanted to memorize every second for future reference.

  “Tell me what you like,” he rasped in her ear. “How you like it. How you want it.”

  “Like that,” she gasped as he rotated his hips against her in a sultry movement that turned her insides to molten honey. “You feel so good, Nico.”

  He took her mouth in a hungry kiss that held no restraint. Raw, erotic, he made love to her mouth with the hot slide of his tongue until she whimpered and pressed closer. He angled her more intimately against him and let her feel every centimeter of the steely length that pressed against his trousers. Gave her more of that pleasure that had driven her crazy that night at the pool.

  “Don’t stop,” she whispered, on a broken plea. But he did, bending to slide his arm beneath her knees to pick her up and carry her to the bedroom. Setting her down beside the bed in the minimalistic airy room with a spectacular view as its only decor, he moved behind her, set his fingers to the zipper of her dress and drew it down. His hands settling around her hips, he pushed the dress up and over her head, cool air caressing her skin as he tossed it in a pool of silk on the floor.

  A wave of self-consciousness settled over her as he sat down on the bed and drew her to him. His fingers dealt with the clasp of her bra with an experience and dexterity that made her pulse pound. Off it went into the pile. And then she was naked in front of him except for the black lace panties that clung to her hips.

  Standing in front of him, his gaze level with her bare, aching breasts, she took in the hunger in his stormy gray eyes. “You are so gorgeous,” he said roughly. “So perfect. I need to have you, Chloe.”

  Her insides fell apart. He tugged her the last step forward. Cupped her breasts in his hands. Kneaded them, weighed them. Brushed his thumbs over the straining, tender tips until she moaned and pushed closer, his caresses melting her limbs.

  With a muttered imprecation, he dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands cupping her buttocks to bring her close. “Nico,” she murmured, heart racing as she read his intention. “You can’t do that.” No man had ever touched her like that.

  He looked up at her, eyes hot. “I’ve waited forever to have you like this. I want to kiss you. Touch you. Let me.”

  His words took her apart. Annihilated the last of her defenses, what she’d said to Lashaunta that day filling her head.

  When you let yourself be stripped down, naked, raw, because this was you and you couldn’t be anything else but who you are.

  It had always been like that with Nico. He had seen every part of her. This would be no different.

  She relaxed beneath his hands. Let him part her thighs. He pressed his lips to the trembling skin of her abdomen in a hot, openmouthed kiss. Her muscles tightened as he moved his mouth down to the band of her panties. Lower. And then he was caressing her through the damp lace with his mouth, his tongue, his hands at her bottom holding her in place for his delectation.

  She dug her fingers into his coarse dark hair. Whispered mindless words of pleasure, her knees jelly beneath her. Begged for more. He sank his fingers into her hips, turned her around and pushed her back on the bed. Sliding his fingers beneath her panties, he stripped them off.

  Her heart nearly burst through her chest as he pulled her to the edge of the bed and spread her thighs wide with his big palms. Drank her in. And then he parted her most delicate flesh with his fingers, his gaze reverential.

  “You’re beautiful here, too,” he murmured. “So pink. Wet. Perfect.”

  She closed her eyes. Curled her fingers in the bedspread. He set his mouth to her, hot and knowing, doing the same wicked things he’d done to her before, only this time there was nothing between her and the searing caress of his mouth, and it was so earth-shatteringly delicious she was lost.

  He fluttered his tongue over the tight bundle of nerves at the heart of her. Told her how good she tasted in raw, uncensored words that inflamed her. She begged for more. Holding her hips tighter, he laved her, flicked at her with his tongue, the powerful lash of his caress almost too much to bear.

  Her back arched off the bed. “Nico—please.”

  He slid a palm beneath her hips and lifted her up. Slid a thick, masculine finger inside her in a slow, controlled movement that made her crazy. Gently, insistently, he caressed her with firm, even strokes. It felt so good, so amazing, she bit down hard on the inside of her cheek to prevent the cry that rose in her throat.

  “You like that?” he murmured huskily, eyes on hers. “It makes you crazy, doesn’t it?”

  She nodded in helpless surrender. Moved into the sexy, sensual caresses he was administering with a tilt of her hips, because she knew how he could
make her come apart with those skillful, amazing hands of his.

  The pleasure built. She dug her nails into the bedding, gasping her pleasure, because she couldn’t hold it in anymore.

  “That’s it, sweetheart,” he said throatily. “Talk to me. That’s so damn sexy.”

  He filled her with two fingers. Worked them in and out until she was arched like a bow, sobbing for release. Then he pressed a palm to her abdomen, wrapped his lips around the peak of her sex and tugged at her until he sent her flying into a sweet, hot release that radiated from the heart of her outward, until every inch of her was in flames.

  * * *

  Nico felt like someone had drugged him as he pushed to his feet, eyes on Chloe as she lay sprawled across his bed. Exactly as he’d imagined her. But oh, so much more jaw dropping in the flesh.

  She was perfection with her taut, high breasts...the slim curve of her waist that flared out to hips that were deliciously feminine...the long legs, toned and magnificent, that he wanted wrapped around him while he took her long and slow and hard.

  He swiped a hand over his jaw, heart pounding. He could still taste her in his mouth, how sweet she was. Could still feel how perfect she’d felt beneath his hands—like silk. He craved her so much, his lust so thick in his throat, he wasn’t even sure how he wanted to take her. He only knew that now that he’d given in to the insanity, he was going to drown himself in it.

  She opened her eyes. Set her shimmering brown gaze on his. He started unbuttoning his shirt. Yanked it off, buttons flying, when it didn’t happen quickly enough. Her eyes darkened as he undid his pants, slid the zipper down and pushed them off his hips, his boxers following close behind. The heat of her gaze turned him hard as a rock.

  He lifted a brow. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “About?” Her voice was lazy. Sated.

  “How you want it?”

  That woke her up. She levered herself up on her elbows. Worried her lip with her teeth. “I don’t know.”

  “What?” he gibed. “There’s finally something you would like to defer to me on?”

  “Yes.” She sank her teeth deeper into the soft flesh he wanted to taste again. It tipped him over the edge.

  “You on top,” he said evenly. “Now.”

  Her eyes widened. He found a condom in the bedside table. Stretched himself out on the bed and beckoned to her. She crawled over to him, uncertainty and desire glittering in her beautiful eyes.

  “You took on the world tonight,” he murmured. “Surely you can handle me.”

  The uncertainty morphed into a look of pure challenge. She straddled him, her gorgeous body a feast for the eye. It was such a turn-on, this confident, spectacular creature she’d turned into, he was transfixed. High color streaking her cheeks, her hair a tumble of silk around her face, she bent to kiss him.

  “You were saying?” she murmured, lips parting sweetly against his. He reached up, cupped the back of her head and brought her closer, his mouth melding with warm, honeyed temptation. She tasted exquisite, the subtle stroke of her tongue against his as she kissed him deeply, intimately, offering him all of her in that way she had that made him completely lose his head.

  Her hands found his hard length pulsing against his thigh. She caressed him, her smooth, even strokes unpracticed and so much more hot because of it. He cursed as she pushed him close to the edge. “Baby,” he murmured, clamping a hand around hers. “Either you do this or I take control.”

  Her eyes flashed. She didn’t like that idea. He handed her the condom. Her hands stumbled over the task. He settled his fingers over hers and rolled it on, the intimate act thickening the air between them to unbearable levels.

  Blood pounded his temples as she positioned herself over top of him. Brought the thick crest of his arousal to her slick velvet heat. Cradled against her, he rubbed the length of her. Relished her low groan.

  “Nico.”

  It was his turn to groan as she took him just barely inside her. “Slowly,” he bit out. “Dio. You are so tight.”

  Her eyes locked on his as she took him deeper, the erotic connection between them so hot it fried his brain. He set his palm low on her belly. Found her center with the pad of his thumb and massaged her in slow, sensual circles. She closed her eyes, full mouth slackening. Her body softened, took him deeper inside, slowly, excruciatingly slowly, until finally she had sheathed him with her hot, silky flesh.

  She opened her eyes. Fixed them on his. “I didn’t know it could be like this,” she breathed. “You feel so good, Nico.”

  Blood roared in his head. He could have told her it wasn’t like this. Not usually. That sex could be good, but it wasn’t always this mind-blowing. But that would be admitting things he chose to ignore. That she had always touched a piece of him no one else ever had.

  He grasped her hips in his hands. Moved her against him in a slow circle. She was plush, tight, so damn good, he almost lost it right then and there. Gritting his teeth, he counted from ten back to one. Which proved ineffectual when, eyes trained on his, she picked up his rhythm. Drove him insane with the sexy, circular movements of her voluptuous hips.

  He curved a hand around her nape. Brought her mouth down to his. Mated his tongue with hers as he possessed her hot, sweet body with insistent, powerful thrusts that made her gasp with every drive. She begged, panted into his mouth. Hands at her hips, he positioned her so she came down at the right angle for him to hit that tender spot inside her.

  “Like that,” she gasped. “Oh, Nico. Like that.”

  “Let go,” he bit out, fighting a deep, primal need to take. To mark her as his as he’d always wanted to. Then lost the battle as her body contracted around his in a tight fist and she cried out, nails digging into his shoulders. His hands grasping her hips, he thrust up inside her, yanking her down to meet his punishing lunges.

  Harder and thicker he swelled inside her, taking his pleasure, until she splintered him apart in a deep, shuddering release and he came harder than he ever had in his life.

  The rasp of their breathing the only sound in the room, he held her, sprawled across his chest, stroking a hand over the silky, soft skin of her back until she fell into an exhausted sleep curled against him.

  An insidious tendril of unease wound its way through him alongside the powerful, more potent emotions swamping him in the aftermath of the intimacy they’d shared.

  It was just good sex, he told himself. Perhaps the best he’d ever had. He and Chloe shared an intense physical attraction—one he’d been fighting for far too long. What man wouldn’t react that way when a woman was so sweet and willing in his arms? So sexy and vulnerable all at the same time?

  Curving Chloe’s soft, warm body against his, he let sleep take him. They were going to need some rules. But tomorrow would be soon enough to have those awkward, line-reinforcing kinds of conversations they needed to have.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHLOE WOKE TO the first, soft yellow light of day making its way into the sky, shrouding the tall skyscrapers in an almost otherworldly glow. It was such a magnificent view, she simply drank it in for a moment.

  Her sensory perception expanded beyond the jaw-dropping panorama to the heavy, solid weight draped around her middle. The hot, hard male body pressed against the length of hers. The very naked hot, hard male body pressed against hers.

  She was in Nico’s bed. She’d spent the night with Nico. OMG.

  Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. She pressed a palm to the hard, staccato beat in an attempt to steady its racing rhythm, but nothing seemed to help. Everything felt utterly off-kilter—like it would never be the same again. Not after that.

  She sucked in a deep breath. Blew it out slowly. Last night had been indescribable. Romantic. Sensual. Soul consuming. Everything she’d dreamed about and more.

  She’d always known Nico would be an amazing lover. That unparalleled control of his, the intensity he wore like a glove, the sensuality that was so much a part of him. But noth
ing could have prepared her for the depth of intimacy they had shared. It made her toes curl to even think about it.

  It seemed impossible to imagine that what they had shared was an ordinary connection. It felt extraordinary. Nico had taken her apart, exposed every part of her. Made her feel so alive it was terrifying. And she could have sworn he’d felt it, too. That it could be the start of something amazing if he let down his walls.

  And maybe that was highly naive, unwise thinking. She had no experience with a man like Nico. With that kind of passion. Maybe what they’d shared was simply powerful chemistry. The only thing she was sure of was that she was completely and utterly out of her depth.

  She sank her teeth into her lip. Twisted to face him. His arm fell away to rest above his head, his severe features relaxed, long dark lashes shading his cheeks. He was so gorgeous it made her melt. But it wasn’t just the stunning outer packaging that drew her to him. It was the man inside the gorgeous facade. Who he was at the heart of him—impregnable in a storm, unyielding in his sense of honor, solid in a way she’d never encountered.

  Finding out he was the man she’d always believed him to be had only underscored the feelings she’d always had for him. Made them more inevitable. If she was smart, she knew, she’d guard her heart. Keep her head.

  She turned back to look at the bedside clock. Six thirty. Thank goodness. Some internal alarm must have woken her. She needed to be downtown at the Times Square store by 8:00 a.m. to prep for Lashaunta’s appearance. Given she had no clothes, only the dress she’d worn the night before, that was a problem she needed to rectify. Fast.

  She slid out of bed. Went searching for her underwear. Another wash of heat claimed her cheeks as she found it scattered around the room. Snatching up her bra and panties, she slid them and her dress on. Pursed her lips as she considered a sleeping Nico. Was she supposed to wake him up and say goodbye? What was the proper procedure?

  In the end, she let him sleep. Maybe it was the coward in her, because she wasn’t sure how to handle this right now. But it seemed the easier way.