A Naughty Little Christmas (Cowboys, Cops, and Kilts: 8 Seasonally Seductive Romances from Bestselling Authors)

by Randi Alexander

  Noelle straightened from her bent position. Before she could move away, male hands closed on her waist. Her breath shortened and the muscles low in her belly clenched.

  “You didn’t kiss it better.”

  After a split second of indecision, her hands settled midway between his shoulders and his neck. His skin was very warm, very supple beneath her palms.

  “That’s not where you want me to put my lips,” she said softly.

  Something flared in the dark eyes staring at her. The hands at her waist tightened, fingers digging into her flesh, yanking her into him even as her hands slid up his neck, into his hair, and she lowered her head and kissed him.

  Heat exploded and engulfed her. His mouth ate at hers as if he wanted to devour her. There were lips, teeth and tongues involved. His teeth closed on her lip, testing its plumpness, and when she gasped his tongue invaded her mouth, capturing the sound, exploring her deeply, enticing her to do the same to him.

  His hands swept all over her back, pressing as much of her against him as he could. Unable to control herself, Noelle pressed and rotated her lower body against his fully erect cock. She wanted to feel him inside her, wanted to feel that rock-hard length rubbing her inner flesh, wanted it very, very desperately. But there were still barriers. Frustration whipped through her and she broke the kiss, letting her head fall back. She could hear herself panting above the heavy pounding of her heart.

  Not content himself, Rome trailed his open mouth down the soft underside of her jaw, her throat, her chest, licking and nipping any part of her skin he could find. He met cloth, but that didn’t deter him. He opened his mouth over her breast and sucked her flesh through the material. Noelle cried out and fisted her hands in his hair. Needing to be closer to him, she raised her right leg and planted her knee on the bed beside his hip.

  Rome moved to her other breast, but this time he yanked the straps of her nightgown down. Noelle released her hold on his hair to let him free her arms and bare her breasts, one already wet with his saliva. He made a rough, incoherent sound and bit down on the other nipple hard enough to make her whimper, then he soothed it with his tongue before pulling as much of her flesh as he could into his mouth.

  With one hand, Noelle dug her fingers into a broad shoulder. With the other, she gathered a handful of the nightgown and dragged it up. His hands grabbed her ass, squeezing the globes through her panties. Then apparently deciding he didn’t have the patience to properly remove the final barrier, he broke the thin straps on the sides and tossed the damaged undergarment away. She heard the crinkling of a foil wrapper she hadn’t even seen him grab.

  Noelle closed her eyes and murmured, “Oh God,” lifting the other knee onto the bed. Rome’s mouth never broke contact with her breast. She grasped his cock and gasped. Even through the thin latex, it was burning hot and hard and she couldn’t encircle it with one hand. With his hands on her buttocks lifting her, guiding her, she rose up, moved his cock to the entrance of her sex and held him steady for her descent.

  Rome’s hands on her hips pulled her down onto him even as he thrust his hips up, burying himself in wet heat.

  Noelle cried out, her sounds mingling with his. He felt impossibly hard, impossibly big, impossibly good inside her. Later, she wanted to taste him on her tongue, feel him moving inside her mouth, swallow his come down her throat. But not yet. Not now. With his hands guiding her, she began to grind on his lap, her eyes shut tight, giving herself over to the delicious friction of him stroking her inner walls. Rome lifted his mouth off her breast, made a strangled sound and buried his face in her neck. Hands clutching his shoulders, she began to increase the pace, using her knees to lift herself up and down.

  It wasn’t long before sweat coated her body and panting noises escaped her throat. She was moving energetically, her body quivering with each downward thrust, her sensitive breasts scraping his chest. She tossed back her head, the ends of her hair trailing down to the middle of her back, and didn’t even try to stifle her moans.

  Tension and excitement coiled tighter and tighter inside her as she moved up and down, harder and faster, impaling herself again and again. Then she released a cry of fulfillment as rapture tore through her, making her inner muscles convulse. The sensation of her coming around his cock was too much for Rome and within moments he came, seizing her tightly to him, sealing her body to his, spurting his hot seed inside the condom.

  After seemingly an eternity, Noelle’s body slowly relaxed, her fingers easing on his shoulders to slide down his back. She let her head drift to his damp shoulder, lazily flicked out her tongue for a taste of salt and sighed his name.

  He went rigid beneath her. “Who’s Rome?”

  Chapter Three

  She lifted her head from his shoulder, her hair partially obscuring her face, and opened one eye. “You. You’re Rome.”

  “I’m Sergio.”

  The other eye popped open, and wariness was in both. “Your driver’s license is a fake?”

  Sergio fought back the jealousy that had reared its ugly head when he’d first thought she’d called him by another man’s name. With the few functioning brain cells he had remaining, he tried to think of an explanation. Had his brain not been turned to mush because of a mind-blowing orgasm, he would’ve remembered his cover name. Then he could’ve walked away without making her more suspicious than she must be already.

  Some sane part of him told him he could still walk away right now. She couldn’t stop him. She wouldn’t stop him. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to leave just yet. His hand followed the curve of her back, loving the soft smoothness of her warm, damp skin. He wanted to stay with her. He wanted to let her help him forget.

  And that’s when he knew he had to leave.

  As if she’d read his mind, she said, “Don’t go.”

  Sergio gently brushed her hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ears. “You don’t know anything about me.”

  “I don’t think I care,” she admitted softly.

  “You should.” His body stiffened and his voice turned harsh. “Or do you sleep with complete strangers on a regular basis?”

  His blatant jealousy seemed to amuse her because she was smiling as she leaned down and brushed her lips over his. Then she pulled back, her hands cupping his face. “When you saw me being attacked in the alley, why did you stop and get involved?”

  What the hell? Sergio scowled. Had he been undercover for so long that people were now questioning his basic human decency? “It was the right thing to do. What kind of man would I be if I ignored the situation?”

  “You’d be one of the general public. You saved me tonight when most people would’ve walked on by, pretending not to see what was happening in that alley.”

  His lips thinned. “So was this payback?”

  She tensed, then sighed and made to move away from him. He perversely didn’t let her go. She shot him an exasperated look.

  “Was it?” he pressed.

  “No,” she replied and slapped at his arms, wanting him to release her. He ignored her unspoken demand. Her eyes narrowed. “Let go.”

  “No.” One hand slid to the small of her back and the other pushed her head back down onto his shoulder. She resisted for maybe a second before giving in. His fingers sifted through her hair, letting the strands fall across his bare skin. “I like you where you are.”

  Sergio stroked her soft, smooth back until the tension left her body.

  “So do I have to steal your wallet to get a name?”

  “You already have two names,” she replied wryly. “You don’t need a third.”

  He squeezed her waist in warning. She wriggled. His body responded instantly.

  “Noelle,” she gasped, wriggling some more, this time on purpose, trying to position his growing sex at the apex of her legs. He cupped her bottom and pressed her lower body tightly to his. Her breath hitched. One hand trailed down between her cheeks and found her pussy. She was still soaking wet. H
e slid two fingers inside her. Her body clamped around him and she moaned softly, her lips moving against his skin.

  He pulled out, thrust back in then repeated the motions. Noelle opened her mouth over his shoulder. Her tongue swept over his skin before she sucked at him. He added a third finger. He felt her teeth and welcomed that small pain. Her fingers clutched at his upper arms and shoulders. Then she stiffened above him even as her vaginal muscles spasmed around his buried fingers, new wetness gushing from her. Savage satisfaction ripped through him even as his body demanded the same release he had just given the woman now draped limply over him.

  His cock thrust up between her thighs. Before he could put himself inside her, her hands found his chest and pushed. “Let go,” she breathed, and this time he did. She gave him another push and he lay back on the bed. She moved down the length of him, crouched between his thighs. She stripped him of the used condom, tossing it in the trash can beside the bed, then retrieved another from the box she’d perversely bought while shopping. She placed the condom on the nightstand before settling between his thighs once more, and Sergio’s breath stopped in his throat at the first warm gust of her breath on the pulsing head of his cock. He tangled his fingers in her hair after the first long swipe of her tongue traveled from his base to his head. Sergio groaned and fisted his hands. He wanted inside her mouth and told her so.

  “Not yet,” she murmured, her voice taking on a teasing lilt. Then she enclosed the sac that was drawn tight against his body into her mouth and sucked. She played with him, rolling him with her tongue, letting him feel the edges of her teeth, then she suckled him some more.

  Sergio ground his head back into the bedding and released a string of curses as fire spread beneath his skin. He tugged on her hair and she released his balls with a wet sound, shifted up a bit and sealed her lips around the heavy knob of his erection. Another string of curses escaped him. Her mouth was fucking amazing. Hot and wet and soft. Her tongue found the slit in the center then swirled over the entire head. She moved down, taking more of him, and more, until he hit the back of her throat. A hot hand found the length of him that she couldn’t enclose and squeezed. Then she began working her mouth up and down his cock, sexy little murmurs escaping her as she bathed him with her saliva.

  Fresh sweat dampened his forehead and his lungs worked like a bellows, but he fought against his release. He wanted to prolong the sensation of being inside her mouth. He loved having a woman go down on him. There was nothing quite like it. And Noelle was sucking him like a woman who enjoyed giving head. She was sure and passionate and lost in the act. He thrust his hips up, pushing his cock deeper into her mouth and imagined spurting his come down her throat, imagined her swallowing it…

  And he came. He groaned as his semen shot out of him. And Noelle swallowed all of it, just as he’d fantasized.

  Not finished with him, Noelle continued to leisurely work him with her mouth, now able to take more of his shaft in his softened state. He groaned and tightened his fingers in her hair as the wet sounds of her fellating him filled the room. His cock was usually too sensitive after an orgasm to withstand anything more than a light sheet or a tentative caress, but the slick, heated cavern of her mouth was heaven.

  For long, endless minutes, she alternated her attention between his cock and his balls, drawing out the act as if they had all the time in the world. When he was fully erect again, she drew back despite his silent protests and, planting her hands on his hips, trailed her lips up to his navel.

  With her hands and tongue, she counted the ridges of muscle on his abdomen, then his ribs. When she reached his nipple, she gave it a broad stroke of her tongue before catching it between her teeth and biting down oh so gently. He shuddered and groaned her name.

  Fisting the fingers tangled in her hair, Sergio forcibly pulled her mouth up to his and buried his tongue inside it. Kissing her as if he wanted to take her inside himself, he explored it thoroughly. The ultra soft insides of her cheeks, the ridged roof, the slick surfaces of her teeth. He enticed her tongue to follow his, sucked it into his mouth, and her fingers dug into his shoulders.

  She broke away, gasping for air.

  “Now,” he urged, his voice as rough as gravel as his hands found her hips. His own arched up, his swollen cock seeking the entrance to her body.

  Noelle braced her hands on his chest, pushed herself up to straddle him and leaned over to grab the condom, quickly sheathing him. With a broken moan, she sank down on his cock, taking it in fully.

  She was absolutely still for several heartbeats too long and Sergio was ready to flip her onto her back and take control. Then, with her eyes closed and her lips parted, she moved. Slowly, though, nothing more than little teasing movements of her hips back and forth on top of him. Back and forth. Back and forth.

  It was torture. He wanted faster—he wanted harder. He wanted more and the little witch wouldn’t give it to him. His hands clamped on her hips, intending to make her move to the rhythm he needed.

  Her eyes flew open and met his as her fingers went to his wrists, dug in. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I want…”

  She’d stopped completely, making his muscles coil with frustration. The tease was going to kill him. The sound he made could only be a growl. “Not…enough.”

  She just shook her head, those silky curls curtaining her face and brushing his skin, and pushed at his hands until they released her and twisted in the sheets. As if rewarding him, she tightened her inner muscles.

  Oh, fuck. He’d make her pay later.

  Then he lost all thought as she began to ride him, her thighs tensing and flexing as her body rose and fell above his. The friction was good but not enough, making him feel as if his skin was too tight for his body. Her pace was slow, but gradually increased until her breasts bounced with each thrust. Unable to resist, he reached for the globes of flesh and squeezed. She threw her head back, arching her neck, and moaned darkly.

  Faster and harder, she rode him, and he could sense her climax was near. Her body, flushed with blood and gleaming with sweat, was both taut and soft. Helpless, breathless sounds escaped her throat. In his hands, her breasts seemed to heat and swell, and Sergio pulled her down to him so he could feel the sensation against his lips, his tongue.

  With a cry, she came, her body shaking uncontrollably. Buried deep inside her, Sergio could feel the spasms of her inner muscles on his cock and it was too much. He convulsed and peaked, his shout of rapture muffled against her skin.

  December 24

  Jack Manetti’s cell phone rang, yanking him out of an uneven sleep induced by too much red wine followed by too much bourbon. Rubbing his left temple and cursing the African tribal band that had taken up residence inside his skull, he grabbed the little electronic device, peered at the caller ID display on the front then flipped it open.

  “Yeah.”

  “I got what you asked for,” said a male voice on the other line.

  Jack woke up, his head clearing of everything but the tribal drums. “One sec.” He swung his feet to the floor and sat up on the sofa. He found a pen and a discarded envelope on the coffee table. “Shoot.”

  As Jack jotted down the name and address, the other man said, “Don’t call me at the number you used earlier.”

  “You didn’t answer the disposable.”

  “I don’t fucking care,” he said, his voice rising. “I don’t want your calls on record to a phone registered in my name!”

  Very quietly, very evenly, Jack said, “I don’t like the tone of your voice, Taggert. You came to us. Your information services in exchange for wiping out your debt.” He paused then allowed amusement to color his tone. “Of course, I’d be more than happy to reconsider our deal.”

  Patient, Jack waited with the sound of quick, raspy breathing in his ear.

  “Ramirez covers my de—”

  “Half your debt,” interjected Jack.

  “Bu—”

  Jack disconnected, rose from t
he sofa and crossed to the slumped form of his brother, who’d fallen asleep in the recliner. He kicked his brother’s legs. With a startled sound, Donnie jerked awake.

  “Taggert came through,” said Jack.

  Donnie blinked at him owlishly.

  Jack gritted his teeth in annoyance. His baby brother was one of those slow wakers. One of these days it was going to get him killed.

  Fighting the urge to smack Donnie upside the head, he snapped, “Get up and get your gun and your jacket! We’re leaving.”

  “For where?” Donnie asked through a yawn.

  “Queens. We got a name and address to go with the plate number I got off that taxi.”

  * * * * *

  Sergio and Noelle dozed then awoke while it was still dark and snowing heavily outside. They lay on the bed, the sheets twisted around their bodies, the comforter kicked to the floor, taking pleasure in the lassitude. Sergio closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of her under his hands. He knew he should be doing his job right now, knew he should be trying to figure out who’d sold him out. He should be—

  A stomach growled, followed by a soft, embarrassed feminine chuckle. “Sorry, I don’t think I’ve eaten anything in the last twenty-four hours.”

  Sergio reached for the lamp and turned it on. “We should remedy that. You’re going to need your strength.”

  Noelle cleared her throat then untangled her limbs from his and sat up. Her nude body was softly golden in the lamplight. She tugged at the sheet but it was trapped under him and he refused to move. He laced his fingers behind his head, propping it up a bit, and smiled at her, ignoring the pain that pulled at his side. Anything was worth watching her move around without a stitch covering that slender body. She shot him a frown and scooted off the bed. She bent down and scooped up something small and black off the floor. It was her nightgown.

  “You don’t need that.”

  “Yes I do,” she countered, pulling it on. “Someone has to answer the door for room service.”