Bad Boy Holiday (Bad Boy Inc. Book 6)

by Eve Langlais

  She stepped outside, and before she could think, she stalked close for a harangue. “You idiot. What were you thinking going after them like that?”

  “I was thinking I’d do a citizen’s arrest. Alas, they lost me in the maze-like streets of this city.” He grimaced. “I hate one-ways.”

  “Teach you to steal a bike and go haring off,” she grumbled.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She didn’t tell him she’d whacked a guy with an umbrella stand. He might not understand.

  He glanced around. “I don’t see any cops.”

  “No point. We interrupted the intruders before they could steal anything,” she lied smoothly.

  “What about drugging your guard?”

  “Turns out Kayla’s on some serious meds for a back condition. She says she fell asleep on her own.” She wondered if he bought it.

  “What about the second burglar?”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, clasping her hands lest he see the trembling. She hated lying.

  “Don’t play stupid, Blake. Two bikes. Two perps.”

  “I guess they ran off while I was dealing with Kayla.” Would he buy her tiny little fib?

  His lips flattened. “Get on.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Get your ass on the bike, Blake.”

  She eyed the sliver of seat left. “I don’t think so.”

  “Either you get on the back and hold on tight or I’ll toss you in my lap and you can watch the pavement up close. Either way you’re coming with me.”

  “I don’t like threats.”

  “Too bad. I can tell you’re shaken.”

  “And how is getting on the bike supposed to help?”

  “Because I’m going to take you home.”

  “Oh.”

  “Would it help if I said I’ll go slow? As slow as you need,” he drawled.

  She shivered, but she also got on that bike. It proved to be more torture than she could have imagined, having her body wrapped tight around him, her cheek leaning on his back, arms around his torso, her thighs snuggling him.

  She gave him her address. It seemed stupid not to.

  Just like it seemed dumb to not say, “Want to come upstairs for a drink?”

  She knew exactly where a drink would lead.

  And so did he, yet he said, “Can’t tonight. I’ve got some work stuff to handle. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Chapter Nine

  Winters the Iceman knew he had to stay away, so he tried to work, and had a good jerk, but he didn’t even last the day.

  Leaving her killed him. He stayed away that night. Then the next day. Made it just past dinner before he found himself knocking at her apartment. She opened her door but said nothing.

  “Sorry I left you in the lurch last night.”

  “It’s fine.” Her words were stiff like her posture, which seemed at odds with the happy sloth riding a candy cane on her shirt.

  “No, it’s not.” He rubbed a hand through his hair. “You weren’t a complication I counted on.”

  “Sorry,” she replied sardonically.

  “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I can’t focus. And apparently, I can’t stay away. Blake, I—”

  Whatever he might have said next was halted by the sudden press of her lips. One moment she was staring at him, and the next, she was in his arms, kissing him. Dragging him inside. And he was kicking that door shut.

  “Why did you leave?” she asked as she tugged at his shirt.

  “Because I’m not good for you.”

  “So why come back?”

  “Because I missed you.” The stupid, honest truth.

  “You barely know me.”

  “Trust me, I’m aware of how crazy that sounds.” Aware that this woman did something to him. Made his cold heart feel again.

  He stripped her bare that he might finally see her in all her naked glory. They kissed, mouths open and breath mingling. Somehow, even with their bodies pressed tight, he divested her of her clothing. He couldn’t see her, but he could feel her. He let his hands travel over her smooth skin, enjoying her cries of pleasure and the way her whole body vibrated at his touch.

  She tugged at his clothes, frenzied in her need, even popping a button, which was fucking sexy as hell. Once she’d stripped his shirt, she clung to him, her nude upper body rubbing against his. Making him throb something fierce.

  He wanted nothing more than to sink his cock into her. To ride her as she clawed his back.

  But first, he wanted to taste. Explore. He traced his way down her body with his mouth and hands, nibbling the soft skin of her neck before moving to the valley between her heavy breasts. She cried out when he took her nipple into his mouth. Uttered a strangled moan when he bit her soft flesh.

  As he sucked, his cock throbbed in time, aching with need. He moved them to a couch, sat her on it that he could better play. He kneaded her breasts, pushing them together that he might play with both erect tips. When that wasn’t enough, he pushed her down on the couch, and she parted her thighs, showing him the treasure he’d pleasured before.

  A hand over her mound showed how hot and wet she was for him. He slid a finger into the tight heat and groaned when her hips pushed against his hand.

  If he wasn’t careful, he’d lose control. He fumbled for the condom in his back pocket, a clumsy idiot that ruined the mood as he tried to roll the damned thing over his thick cock.

  She slid off the couch and took over, her hands smoothing the rubber over his flesh. It was more erotic than it had a right to be, especially since she didn’t let go but kept stroking him. Rubbing him. Pushing him onto his back and then straddling his waist, her damp sex brushing against him. Teasing.

  “I’m not going to last if you keep doing that,” he admitted through gritted teeth.

  “And? Technically I’m ahead of the game.” She winked then grabbed hold of him and stroked, shifting enough she could place her mouth over him.

  Holy fuck.

  His hips bucked. He almost came and barely held on. Managed only a hoarse, “Give me that pussy.”

  She didn’t obey, so he took back control, manhandling her so that her sweet sex was positioned over his mouth, and he finally tasted her.

  Her slick lips parted for his tongue, and she moaned as he explored her, moaned around the cock in her mouth, which meant he groaned against her quivering sex. He discovered her sensitive clit and flicked it again and again, loving how she shuddered each time. She paid him back, gripping tight, bobbing her head up and down the length of his cock. He worked her swollen nub faster, sucking and nipping, and she reacted by sucking hard. Hard enough he wished there was no condom in the way.

  He could feel his body tightening. He was going to come if she kept it up.

  And she didn’t seem keen on stopping. He thrust two fingers into her tight sex. She quivered at his penetration and sucked him faster. He pumped her while his tongue flicked against her clit.

  With a scream that vibrated around his cock still in her mouth, she came hard, clamping down on his fingers. Pushing him over the edge.

  He came. And came again an hour later, this time buried inside her. He then did something he never did.

  He spent the night and woke to the sense of someone watching.

  A cat. Who perched on his chest and looked less than impressed he was in Blake’s bed. Until he scratched it. Then the kitty purred and rolled. It disturbed Blake, who groaned, “Too early.”

  He laughed. “I think your cat likes me.

  “Traitor,” was her grumbled reply.

  “I’m going to make a coffee. Want one?”

  “Mhhm,” was the sleepy reply.

  He found her small kitchen and made breakfast. Of a sort. No avocado. Nothing whole wheat. If he was going to spend more time here, he’d need to do a grocery run. The cat was delighted to have a new human filling her bowl with something that smelled strongly of fish.

  He’d never owned a pet be
fore. Never saw the point but had to admit the feline was cute and friendly. She chose to ignore her food to rub against the hand that fed her. The fur silky soft. He trailed his digits along it, and the cat abruptly flung herself onto her back, exposing her belly.

  The fur proved even softer underneath, and as he rubbed, the feline began to purr, a little machine that rumbled and stretched.

  Until she suddenly grabbed him with all four paws and teeth!

  Lightly, though. Not enough to truly prick the skin, still purring. Was it playing? Or just psychotic? Either way, it was entertaining. Maybe he should think of getting one when he slowed down with work.

  Slow down? Now there was something he didn’t think of often, mostly because during his down time he quickly got bored. What else was there to do other than plan the next job? His attention strayed in the direction of where he’d left Blake. He could think of things he’d enjoy doing if he had the right person.

  On the way back to the bedroom with coffee, he noticed the lack of holiday décor. No tree or lights. Just a porcelain snowman, who looked old, sitting on the table by her door. Odd for a woman with so many Christmas sweaters.

  As he entered the bedroom, he murmured, “Rise and shine.”

  She rolled and stretched, blinking at him through heavy eyelids. “Do I have to?” Her voice emerged husky.

  Sexy.

  Distracting.

  He thrust a coffee at her. “Made you something.”

  She eyed the blackness and then him. “Please tell me it at least has sugar.”

  “Let me guess, you want cream too?”

  She nodded. By the time he returned with the syrupy mess, she was sitting in her bed, sheet pooled around her waist. A goddess that made him want to forget his job and spend the day here, with her.

  “Despite your many sweaters, you seem to be lacking a Christmas tree.”

  “I skipped one this year. Not much point in having one just for myself.” She said it as if it were okay, yet he got the sense it wasn’t.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever had one.”

  “Even as a kid?”

  “I didn’t have a great childhood.” He frowned. That was more than he usually admitted.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Why?”

  “Because some of my best memories are around the Christmases I spent with my family.”

  “I don’t need presents.”

  “It’s about more than gifts,” she stated, leaning back with her mug held in two hands. “It’s that warm and fuzzy feeling you get from spending time with people you love.”

  “Are you sure that’s not the spiked eggnog?”

  She snickered. “Only when we used to let Aunt Jean make it.”

  He wanted to know more about this Aunt Jean and all the things that made Blake who she was.

  Instead he leaned in for a kiss and muttered, “I’ve got to hit my hotel for a change of clothes. I have business to attend to this morning.”

  “Okay.” She sipped her coffee.

  Just okay? His pathetic ass then said, “Meet me for lunch?”

  “I’d love that,” she said with a beaming smile.

  They had lunch. Then sex at his hotel. Then went to see a house she thought he might like. Had sex again.

  He was beginning to wonder if he’d ever tire of her. Each time was as intense as the last.

  Then it happened, the thing he’d been working toward.

  She asked him after dessert while they were sprawled naked on the couch, their limbs entwined. “Are you busy tomorrow night?”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “I don’t suppose you want to be my date for the office Christmas party?”

  He only felt a slight twinge of guilt as he said, “I’d love to.”

  Chapter Ten

  There’s no place like home for the holidays; unless it’s in bed with my lover.

  Why had she invited him? She hadn’t meant to, but it slipped out. Now she was nervous. Stupid, yet she couldn’t help it. She’d only rarely introduced men she dated to her father and friends. In this case, the term boyfriend didn’t even apply to Matt. The blunt truth? I’m bringing my lover to a work function. Never thought she’d have the opportunity to say that. Women with lovers were glamorous or rich, not full-hipped with baggage—and an overprotective dad.

  That Matt had chosen her still felt a touch surreal, even if she had the beard rub marks on her breasts to prove it. It chafed, but in a good way. However, the pinkness made her glad her outfit for the night lacked a plunging neckline.

  Matt had left a few hours ago, after giving her a long kiss, to get ready at his hotel. A good thing since she needed time to prep herself.

  She did a full shave. And she meant full. She would probably regret that in a few days, but this was a special occasion. Her last night perhaps before he left. Because she assumed he’d leave before Christmas, and the Eve would hit shortly.

  Pathetic to hope he’d stay a few more days? More like sad to realize the amazing whirlwind tryst might soon come to an end. Better make each moment count.

  She dressed with extra care, glad she’d splurged on the matching undergarments and the stay-up stockings. As for her party dress?

  When Matt arrived to pick her up, his eyeballs almost fell out. “You can’t be seriously thinking of going out wearing that?”

  “Do you like?” she asked, twirling for him. The navy blue knit sweater dress hugged her curves. She’d bought it before putting on those ten extra pounds. It fit more snuggly than she usually preferred; however, his eyes weren’t on her hips or tits but the image painstakingly sewn over the course of weeks. The main parts were done in felt then decorated with a few buttons, some fringe, a bit of glitter. The twigs she’d picked during a walk

  “It’s definitely original?” was his hesitant reply.

  She glanced down at her dress, decorated with a giant snowman wearing a top hat, actual buttons for its eyes, a pompon for its nose, and a scarf that fluttered. She’d matched it with a belt that had twinkling lights.

  “I made it myself,” she said, still grinning. “Check this out.” She pressed a rhinestone button, and a tinny version of “Jingle Bells” began to play while LED lights, woven back and forth across her masterpiece, blinked in rhythm.

  “That is unbelievable.” Disbelief tugged his features.

  She couldn’t hold in her laughter. “Isn’t it just hideous?”

  “You know it’s ugly?” he asked tentatively.

  “On purpose. Ugly sweaters, and outfits, are actually a tradition in my family. We were doing it before it became fashionable. My mom started it.”

  “Your mother has an odd sense of humor.”

  “My mother’s dead.”

  “Oh fuck.”

  She shook her head. “It happened a long time ago. Home invasion.” She shrugged and then quickly continued to speak before he could say something that would ruin her makeup. “After she died, my dad thought we should keep doing it as an homage to her. We’re sure she’s watching us from heaven, laughing, wearing her own hideous creation.” Her smile must have held some sadness in it, because he moved close for a hug.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

  And she’d done it. Ruined their happy moment. “How could you know?” she said lightly, suddenly reminded that for all they’d been intimate, in many respects, they didn’t know each other. “It’s not something I advertise. And since the whole ugly-sweater thing became popular, most people don’t think anything of it.”

  “I don’t care if it’s the latest trend. That dress is a travesty to snowmen everywhere.” His lips twisted, and his tone was wry.

  “Would it help if I said I wore snowman undies and matching bra?”

  That got him to laugh. “Now I want to undress you even more.”

  The man was always in the mood to strip her. Bare her. Love every inch of her body until she screamed. He wasn’t selfish one bit in bed. On the contrary, he liked to make her
come first with his mouth or fingers and then a second time when he was inside her.

  “There’s only one more thing left to complete my outfit,” she declared. “Can you guess what it is?”

  “I’m afraid to find out,” he said with a twitch of his lips.

  “I have a matching tie.” At the time she’d made the dress, she’d been dating someone. It didn’t last. Hence the ten pounds.

  “A tie?” he repeated as if it made little sense to him.

  She grabbed it from the chair she’d draped it over. It had a googly-eyed snowman on it, wrapped in a garland of light—rhinestones that glittered if the light caught them.

  “You want me to wear that?” Incredulous didn’t even describe it.

  “It was all I could manage on short notice.” A pity they’d not met sooner. She’d seen an epic red Christmas suit, the jacket sewn with red sequins that shimmered green when ruffled. “Will you wear it?”

  “I can’t believe I’m going to agree.” He removed his dark and somber neckwear, and for a moment, she was tempted to start undoing all those buttons and kissing the flesh she uncovered.

  But then that would lead to her messing up her hair, plus them being late. It wouldn’t set a good note with her father, who had actually called her that afternoon, asking why she’d not been in the office. Then he casually asked about their latest client.

  “Have you sold that Arbuckle a house yet?” he’d asked. “You’ve been out of the office meeting with him rather often.”

  “We’re still looking.” She didn’t mention the fact they spent much of that time naked in her apartment.

  “Hopefully you’ll find something for him soon. When does he leave?”

  “I’m not sure. He hasn’t said.”

  “You should bring him to the party. It’s about time I meet him.”