Sweet Life

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Sweet Life Page 18

by Nina Lane


  God. Her blood pulsed in rhythm with his. He brought his hands up to either side of her head, bringing her lips down to his. He slid his tongue into her mouth, bit down gently on her lower lip. Heat bloomed inside her, spreading tendrils through her veins.

  “Move.” His voice was guttural with need.

  Deciding to ignore the fact that he’d technically given her an order, Julia lifted her body and brought it down again. Pleasure shot through her. Warren’s hot breath rasped against her neck, his hands sliding down to clutch her ass. She rode him harder, straining to find a rhythm, tension spinning and coiling through her blood. His thighs tightened beneath her.

  “Fuck, I can’t wait much longer.” His fingers dug into her ass. He thrust upward as she sank down, creating an explosive heat that made her blood burn.

  Julia moved her hand to the slippery button of her clit. One touch was all it took. She cried out, her body convulsing around his shaft as bliss rolled and pitched throughout her entire body. She shuddered, still feeling him pulsing inside her. With a muffled grunt, he drove upward, thrusting deep before filling her with his release.

  Julia gasped, draping her arms around his neck as she went slack against him.

  “You are the GOAT,” she murmured.

  He pulled back to look at her. “Did you just say I was a goat?”

  “Greatest Of All Time.” Julia kissed his nose. “You wouldn’t understand millennial slang like I do.”

  “I guess not.” He straightened as she eased off him. “But I definitely 143.”

  Julia arched an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

  He smirked. “Look it up, dime-piece.”

  Julia stood behind her desk, studying the sketches her assistant Anisa had placed in front of her. She crossed her arms and frowned, tapping her fingernails on her sleeves.

  “So this is what you’ve come up with now?” she asked crisply.

  Anisa nodded. “Um, I was going for trendy and… stuff.”

  Julia gave her a sharp glare. “You just about put me to sleep with that description.”

  Anxiety flashed in the younger woman’s eyes. “But do you like the designs?”

  “Not if that’s how you’re going to describe them.”

  Anisa shifted her weight from one stiletto heel to the other and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. She stared at the sketches she’d put on Julia’s desk.

  Julia snapped her fingers. The sharp crack jerked Anisa to attention.

  “Look at me,” Julia ordered. “If you want to succeed in fashion, you must know how to interact, no matter how intimidating a person is—and believe me when I tell you this industry is filled with people who will kiss you one minute and stab you in the back the next. Now stand up straight, look me in the eye, and tell me what the fuck your vision is for these designs.”

  Anisa put her shoulders back and took a deep breath. Though her hands trembled, her voice was steady as she said, “I want these designs to appeal to creative people. Artists, writers, photographers. So they have to be comfortable, with fabrics that move and breathe, and styles that are a bit edgy and innovative.”

  “Now distill that into a few words.”

  Anisa bit her lip, then said, “Creative… comfortable, and… uh, compelling? No, captivating?”

  “Are you asking me or telling me?”

  “Creative. Comfortable. Captivating.”

  Julia studied the designs again, then gave a short nod of approval.

  “Well done,” she said. “Bring me the prototypes when you’ve finished them.”

  Anisa stared at her in shock. “Are you serious?”

  “Am I ever not serious?” Julia sat back down behind her desk and waved for Anisa to take the sketches away. “Now go away before I do something silly like tell you you have talent.”

  Anisa scrambled to gather the sketches, clutching them to her chest as she hurried to the door.

  “Anisa,” Julia called sharply.

  The younger woman stopped and turned, her eyes still wide with disbelief.

  “You do, you know,” Julia said. “Have talent. A great deal, from what I’ve seen so far.”

  A radiant smile bloomed over Anisa’s face, transforming her from a pretty girl into one of great beauty.

  “Thank you, Julia.” She backed away, still holding her sketches close. “I mean… really, thank you so much. You don’t know what this means to me… thank you.”

  Julia flicked her hand to the door. “Go.”

  Still smiling, Anisa turned and hurried away.

  Julia focused on her emails. If she were the type of person who enjoyed making other people feel good about their talents, she’d have been smiling too.

  She glanced at her reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall. Oh, look at that. She was smiling.

  Her intercom buzzed.

  “Gird your loins,” Marco advised. “Vincent Peck of Evermore Associates, line one.”

  Her insides went cold.

  “Should I hang up on him?” Marco asked.

  “No, I’ll take it.” She closed her eyes, took a breath, and switched the line.

  “Hello, Vincent,” she said coolly.

  “Julia. I know I’m on your shit list,” he said. “But I just heard some interesting things about you through the grapevine.”

  “What did you hear?”

  “That you might be tapping into an underserved and unique demographic,” Vincent said. “Maybe I can give you more advice.”

  “You didn’t give me advice. You insulted me.”

  “Potato, potahtoe. I’d like to take a look at your new portfolio.”

  “I’m sure you would,” Julia said dryly. “But I’m afraid my portfolio will be too mature for you.”

  “Come on, Julia, business is business, right? Don’t hold a grudge. Appear didn’t work out for us, but that doesn’t mean this won’t.”

  “If you’re interested, you’ll have to do some groveling to get back on my good side.”

  “If I like what I see, I’ll wear a hair shirt to win you over.”

  Julia agreed to give him access to her online portfolio and hung up the phone. She opened her sketchbook and drew a quick caricature of Vincent Peck wearing a hair shirt. She added it to the portfolio and emailed him the link.

  Never let it be said she wasn’t a professional.

  Chapter

  FOURTEEN

  Start packing.

  The email came at nine in the morning, a group message from Alpine Climbs verifying that the climb was green-lighted. The post-Christmas weather conditions looked favorable, and since the slopes wouldn’t be crowded owing to the time of year, their expedition was a go.

  “Woo hoo!” The speaker phone on Warren’s desk burst with cheers from Rick and Dave. “You ready, boss?”

  “I was ready before you were born, kid.”

  They laughed, the air filling with cheer and excited anticipation.

  About damn time, too. They’d waited a long time for this, trained incredibly hard. Standing on the summit of the mountain would be the culmination of everything they’d worked for. Theo would be proud.

  Warren stood from his desk, smothering a rush of emotion. He pulled on his coat and headed out to his car. Now he could finally tell the boys, Hailey, and Julia that the start of his retirement didn’t mean he intended to sit in his office working on a model airplane. He’d start with the biggest physical challenge of his life.

  He’d talk to them all privately after the Sugar Rush party tomorrow night. His retirement announcement would be official, and they’d all be together. The timing was perfect.

  He drove downtown, which was jam-packed with cars and holiday crowds. He found a parking spot and walked to Ocean Avenue. Holiday lights twinkled from the lampposts lining the sidewalk, and the massive town Christmas tree presided at the end of the street. Storefronts displayed stuffed Santas, and the smells of roasted chestnuts and hot chocolate drifted from the vendors lined up along the street.<
br />
  He didn’t remember a Christmas he hadn’t spent at the Indigo Bay Holiday Festival. It was a tradition almost as old as the town itself, and Sugar Rush had always been one of the main sponsors. In the few days before Christmas, families could shop late, visit the gingerbread houses and the arts and crafts fair, get pictures taken with Santa, and enjoy the Kid Zone.

  He checked his texts, but found no response from Julia to his query about where they should meet.

  Since Deck the Halls was in two days, this was also supposed to be Julia’s “free” night when she could enjoy the festivities with the rest of the family. More than likely, she’d gotten caught up in one crisis or another.

  He’d just have to find her and insist that she delegate whatever she was doing. He stopped at the Wild Child Bakery, which bustled with customers. Luke, Polly, and Mia were all working behind the counter, packaging pastries, coffee, and towering croquambouches for Christmas dessert.

  “Hi, Warren.” Polly waved, pushing a lock of hair away from her forehead. “We’ll have all the desserts for the Sugar Rush party at the villa by six tomorrow night.”

  “Great, thanks.” Warren took a Declair Luke passed to him. “Have you seen Julia?”

  “No. Did you text her?”

  Warren frowned. “She’s not answering.”

  “Check Santa’s Sleigh,” Mia called from the other end of the counter. “She said something about needing to be there tonight.”

  Warren thanked her and headed out, polishing off the cream-filled Declair as he walked. He made his way to the towering Christmas tree and past the line of children snaking in front of it on their way to visit Santa. The elaborate sleigh, pulled by eight life-sized stuffed reindeer, was situated in a wonderland of miniature lighted trees, snowmen, and a huge gingerbread Santa’s workshop. The man himself sat in the sleigh alongside a bag of toys, as children clambered onto his lap or the bench to express their wishes and get their pictures taken. Half-a-dozen elves corralled the children, manned the camera and tripod, and distributed photo packages.

  Warren walked to the back of the sleigh near the city hall steps. He stopped, his heart jolting.

  No way in…

  Dressed in red-and-white striped tights, a green miniskirt dress with big peppermint-colored buttons, shiny black boots, green gloves, and a red-and-green elf hat was… fashion stylist Julia Bennett.

  Warren’s heart did a crazy somersault. He stopped at the fence and stared at her. She latched her hand around a little girl’s and guided her toward the steps leading up to the sleigh. Though Julia was smiling, Warren could see the irritated tension simmering just beneath her surface.

  He bit back a laugh of both amusement and affection. This was exactly the kind of task she hated, and yet… here she was. He waited until she’d guided the girl up to Santa’s platform.

  “Jules.”

  She startled, turning toward him on her way back to the camera. “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for you.”

  She frowned. “So you found me.”

  “Indeed I did. Well worth the search, I might add.” His gaze slid admiringly over her form-fitting dress and shapely legs.

  Her frown deepened, even as amusement flashed in her eyes. “One of the elves called in sick, so guess who had to take over?”

  “Looks like you’re doing a great job,” he remarked. “When do you get off?”

  “Not for another two hours, if not longer.” She waved him away and turned back to the camera. “Go on without me. I promised all the children would get a chance to talk to Santa, which means this could take a while.”

  Warren stepped away from the fence. He’d spent the past thirteen years at the Holiday Festival with Julia. Tonight would be no different. He made a couple of phone calls, then met Tyler and Kate two blocks away at the Indigo Bay Theater. After the costume director hooked them both up with elf costumes—which made his son oddly happy—they returned to Santa’s Sleigh.

  “Julia, your relief crew has arrived.” Warren opened the gate in the fence and ushered Tyler and Kate through.

  Julia straightened from the computer, her hat askew and her skin flushed. “What?”

  “We’re here to take over.” Tyler went around to where she stood, pausing to admire himself in the mirror.

  “Warren said you haven’t had a chance to do anything yet,” Kate explained. “So we’ll take over your final shift.”

  Julia opened her mouth—to protest, Warren knew. He maneuvered past his son and grabbed Julia’s hand. “No arguing. We’re going.”

  “But I should explain the procedure for…”

  “Julia, we got this.” Kate took her place behind the camera. “Have fun.”

  Warren managed to get Julia out of the fenced area, taking her coat from the stash piled behind the sleigh. He slipped it over her shoulders, belatedly regretting the fact that it covered her so thoroughly. Because Julia Bennett in an elf costume was about the hottest thing he’d seen in ages. He led her away from the crowds of children and parents.

  “Warren, I really have to make sure the—”

  “You listen to me.” He grabbed the lapels of her coat and hauled her closer, lowering his head to look her in the eye. “You’ve done more than enough for this town. You’ve worked your ass off to organize Deck the Halls, and you’ve succeeded tenfold. This is your last free night of the festival, and it’s time for you to enjoy it. We are going to eat roasted chestnuts, sing Christmas carols, ride the Jingle Bus, do last-minute shopping, and, if you’re good, I’ll let you sit on my lap at the end of the night. Understand?”

  She opened her mouth, her eyes darkening with unmistakable heat. “Er… yes, sir.”

  “Good. Because you’re so fucking hot in that little costume that I doubt I’ll last beyond midnight.”

  “Hmm.” A pink flush colored her cheeks, her eyelashes fluttering. “So what are you waiting for?”

  Warren didn’t think. He pulled her around the side of the city hall, past a row of art galleries and boutiques, and into one of the many isolated little courtyards tucked around town. Without preamble, he pushed her up against a stone wall and crushed his mouth down on hers. His head filled with the taste of candy canes and gingerbread, the sweet-spicy combination going straight to his blood.

  He lifted his head for an instant, his eyes burning into hers. “Sugar? You?”

  “Elves eat candy canes and gingerbread.” She parted her lips, her breath puffing hotly against his mouth. “I was doing some method acting.”

  Whatever she was doing, he liked the result. A rumble of appreciation rolled through his chest as he slanted his mouth over hers again. She moaned, curling her fingers into the front of his coat, her head falling back against the wall. She fueled his lust hotter with each second, flames licking at his skin. He slid his hand around her nape, tilted her head to just the right angle so he could devour her.

  Only when the noise of conversation drifted past on the sidewalk did he force himself to break away from her. Julia groaned, her hand still fisted in his coat and her eyes dark.

  “I’m already wet,” she whispered.

  Warren clenched his jaw in a supreme effort not to hike up her little elf skirt and find out for himself just how wet she was.

  “You can show me later,” he said.

  “I can show you n…”

  Before he could give in to the temptation—much as he wanted Julia, he wasn’t a hormone-driven teenager who couldn’t see the repercussions of getting caught fucking in a public courtyard. Even worse if you were the president of Sugar Rush.

  “Come on.” He straightened his coat and took her hand. “I told you what we’re going to do, and I intend to do it.”

  Though suppressed lust continued to heat his blood, he guided her back to the festival. They rejoined the crowds milling around Ocean Avenue and the Christmas tree. Warren bought bags of roasted chestnuts, which they ate while looking at all the window displays. They paused to watch kids pl
aying in the Kid Zone, toured the Victorian open house, admired the light displays in the park, shopped at the crafts fair.

  Through it all, they exchanged glances simmering with both heat and affection, and Warren realized the emotion filling him was happiness. Personal happiness, not just happiness related to his children or his work. He was happy for himself, being with the woman he loved, knowing he’d live the rest of his life without regrets.

  Once they’d had their fill of Christmas cheer, they returned to Julia’s house. She started to pass him, unfastening her little elf vest. He grabbed her arm to stop her. She met his gaze, her eyes widening at his expression.

  “Leave it on,” Warren ordered gruffly.

  Julia laughed. Less than a minute later, they were in the bedroom and she was working the buckle on his belt. His dick, already primed after their courtyard kiss, sprang out of his trousers and into her warm hand.

  “Jesus, Warren,” she breathed, her eyes glazing over as she stared down at his cock. “Do you just walk around with a hard-on all the time?”

  “When I think about you, yes. Why do you think I spend so much time behind a desk?”

  He pushed off his trousers and boxers, then tumbled her onto the bed, his mouth on hers, his head filling with the taste and scent of her. Flames licked at his blood. He fumbled to get her tight stockings off and skimmed his hand up her smooth thigh. His fingers encountered the dampness of her pussy. Pleasure bolted through him. He slipped a finger into her, loving the way she writhed and twisted underneath him, the way she arched her hips as if begging him to penetrate her deeper.

  He shifted them around so he was lying on his back. He fisted his cock, his nerves firing with heat.

  “Ride me,” he ordered.

  Julia shot him a grin and tugged her miniskirt up to her hips. Still fully clad in her costume, minus the hat, she straddled his thighs and positioned herself over his shaft. Warren guided his cock into her slit, the heat in his blood rising to a boil as her tight pussy enclosed his shaft. She gasped, leaning forward to brace her hands on his chest, her cleavage spilling out of the scooped neckline of her blouse.

 

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