Santa's Cookies (Mistletoe Montana Book 1)
Page 3
I blink.
And blink again.
Then, I tell my head to swivel, turn slightly, just a little twitch to assure myself I’m not completely gone, but nope.
Nothing.
My stubborn gaze is glued to him like a fake sprig of holly hot-glued to a Christmas wreath and just won’t budge.
“I have a room,” I say, the words falling from my tongue like a dripping icicle before I can even think them to myself.
“A room?”
“Someone canceled this morning. Because of the storm.” I reply. “It’s not the best suite in the house, but it’s warm and clean.”
He pauses, raking his gaze over me one more time before nodding slightly. “Very well. I’ll take it.”
I nod and set into business mode, a comfortable setting for me that allows me the ability to finally break away from his hypnotizing eyes.
“I’ll show you to your room, Mr. Holt,” I say, using my best professional voice, as I turn away and begin heading up the stairs.
“Thank you, Krissy. Please, call me Maddox,” he says. I hear his footsteps falling on the hardwood floor as he follows me. “What’s the name of this place anyway?”
“Kringle’s Bed and Breakfast.”
“Kringle’s? Like Kris—.” He stops and I turn back to him as another smile lights up his face and he bursts out laughing. “Krissy Kringle?”
“That’s me,” I say, with a wry, practiced smile. “My mother had a twisted sense of humor.”
I’m used to people making fun of my name, but for some reason it feels different when he does it. While I grew out of being embarrassed long ago, I feel a twinge of it now, and it bugs me. Why do I care what he thinks?
“What a name! I like it,” he replies, laughing as I turn to continue up the stairs, my embarrassment quickly turning to a piercing pride at his approval, which only irritates me more.
Sure, he’s sexy but I shouldn’t care what he thinks. My body on the other hand, is responding to him without consulting me, apparently, because with each step toward his room, I feel it flushing hotter and hotter.
“Right at the end of the hallway,” I say as we reach the top of the stairs. I move to the side to let him go ahead of me and he moves past, his arm brushing against my breast and I stifle a gasp. To my horror, my nipples harden. I glance down and wrap my arms around my chest to hide them as I follow him, biting my lip as I realize just how much trouble I’m in.
MADDOX
CONTROL IS my drug of choice.
While I may enjoy an occasional drink, alcohol is something I can take or leave.
My one, true addiction is being in charge of my surroundings to an extreme level. From the temperature of the room, to the lighting, to my own mood, and the attitudes of everyone I let into my orbit, I make sure the atmosphere I swim in is of my own choosing — and nobody else’s.
Having no choice in the situation I’ve found myself in here at the Kringle Bed and Breakfast is extremely frustrating, to put it mildly. If Krissy is to be believed, I’m pretty screwed. I’m not used to being unable to buy whatever I need. So, to be honest, I don’t believe her.
But when she offers up a room, I decide it’s just what I need—a space to regroup, get out of these wet clothes and make some phone calls. My first order of business is to find someone to bribe so I can get out of here. The advantage to this plan is that it will give me a chance to get to know Krissy a little better.
I find myself curious about her. She’s quiet, despite the fact that I’ve careened into her greenhouse. She’s been calm and collected this whole time, and that’s unusual. I can’t say I would have remained so pleasant myself.
I’m not the most even-tempered person, even I can admit that. So, when I encounter someone like Krissy—it’s like looking into another universe.
I’m a passionate guy, what can I say?
To be successful in business, one must be assertive. It’s an asset to have strong opinions and not be afraid to express them. That trait has taken me far in life. The weak and meek get left behind.
But that doesn’t seem to be the case with Krissy. She doesn’t come off as weak, or even timid. She’s quiet but self-assured, and her eyes are filled with a silent resilience that seems to pulse through her.
She’s downright peaceful. Serenity seems to shine from within her, lighting up her shimmering green eyes in the most attractive way.
And all of that, coupled with her freaking amazing body and legs that go on for miles, makes her drop-dead gorgeous. I have the sudden urge to pull her into my arms, but I know that’s absurd. A woman like her wouldn’t stand for being manhandled by a stranger.
That doesn’t mean every cell in my body isn’t yearning to do it anyway.
She guides me to a room at the end of the hallway and pushes open the door, revealing a cozy room decorated with way too many Christmas decorations. Over the door is a sprig of Mistletoe that I ignore. By the window is a small dresser with a lit-up Christmas village sitting on top of it. In the corner, there’s even a tree, decorated with tiny flashing lights.
I suppress a groan and walk in after her. The bed looms large in the center of the room, dressed in a green and red checkered comforter and a fat white cat is stretched out on her back in the middle of it.
“Snowball, get down!” Krissy says, attempting to shoo the cat away. It doesn’t work, and the cat just keeps rolling around, stretching out its furry paws and ignoring her completely. She looks over at me apologetically. “Sorry about her.”
“That’s okay,” I say, reaching down to pet the cat’s belly.
“No, don’t —.” Krissy says, just as the cat clamps all four of its sharp claws around my wrist and digs in painfully.
I roar out in pain, ripping my arm away, which sends the cat flying off the bed and onto the floor with a loud yelp. Pain stings my flesh, the scratches leaving bloody wounds along my hand and wrist.
“Dammit!” I shout, taking a step back from the bed, and stomping my foot squarely down on Snowball’s tail, causing the cat to let out an ear-piercing shriek that makes me almost jump out of my skin. Losing my balance, I leap towards Krissy, my arms wrapping around her as I try to brace myself from falling, the force of which sends us both tumbling onto the bed together.
My arms surround her, and my eyes crash into hers, wide with surprise as I try to catch my breath.
“If you wanted to get me into bed, all you had to do was say so,” she quips, with a nervous laugh. I can tell she’s trying to make a joke, but her words have an entirely different effect.
With the force of gale winds, the attraction I felt towards her moments ago is electrified now that she’s in my arms, and I stare down at her, a wave of desire washing over me. Her words take me by surprise, and I find myself speechless.
She stares up at me, unmoving, her eyes searching mine.
Throwing caution to the wind, I bend my head and lower my lips to hers. When she doesn’t resist, I open my mouth and kiss her harder, my tongue darting forth to find hers and tangling with it. I could get drunk from her kiss alone…
Heat rises inside of me, a fiery inferno of hunger that threatens to overtake all rational thought as I kiss her.
I pull away, looking down at her, our lips parted in mutual surprise. I bend my head to kiss her again just as Snowball jumps on my back, her claws digging sharply into my back.
“Good grief!” I shout, pulling away and jumping back to my feet, the cat scrambling to the floor and jetting out of the room, leaving us alone with a heavy sense of awkwardness hanging in the air.
KRISSY
“ARE YOU OKAY?” I ask, my heart racing as I stand up. Maddox is bleeding again, his wounds growing by the minute and I’m pretty sure Snowball is somewhere nursing a broken tail.
“I am so sorry,” he says, holding up his hands. “I don’t know what came over me.”
My lips are still tingling from his kiss. As unexpected as it was, I thoroughly enjoyed it. My heart felt
like it was going to pound out of my chest.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, my fingers brushing against my lips as I smile at him. “I liked it. I’m so sorry about Snowball.” I bite my lip, staring up at him and resisting the urge to wrap myself around him. “I’ll get those bandages…”
“I’m okay,” he shakes his head, staring at me curiously.
I smile and nod, my breath catching as I try to move past him. He moves to stand in front of me, peering deep into my eyes, sending waves of warmth through my center.
“You liked it?” he asks. Slowly, I nod, my eyes darting down to his lips and then back up to his eyes. He is absolutely delicious. I suddenly don’t care that he’s a stranger. I’ve successfully compartmentalized my disappointment about my plants and all I can see now is him.
“I liked it, too,” he says, his voice a low growl. I inhale sharply as he closes the small distance between us and gathers me in his arms, his head bending as he brushes his lips against mine again.
His kiss is harder this time, hotter, wetter, deeper.
He doesn’t hold back, his tongue delving into my mouth searchingly. I welcome him, opening my lips and letting him in, tasting him and melting into the kiss as I wrap my arms around his neck and press my body close to his.
My stomach quivers at the suddenness of all of this, leaving me overwhelmed with how quickly he’s moving, but making me hope like hell he keeps going, at the same time.
But he doesn’t.
He lingers for a long moment, exploring my mouth sensuously, before pulling back and staring down at me with hungry eyes.
Breathlessly, I take a step back, trying to compose myself.
It’s been less than an hour since he barreled into my life like a wrecking ball and I’m kissing him? Frenching, even?
Who am I?
MADDOX
AS I STARE up at the ceiling, it occurs to me that I can still taste Krissy’s lips on mine.
My skin stings from the cat scratches, and the cut on my head from the wreck is a little deeper than I thought it would be, but they are all properly bandaged and dressed with antibiotic ointment that Krissy insisted I apply.
She seemed perfectly at ease tending to my wounds, and from the looks of this overly decorated, but extremely cozy home, I can tell she’s the nurturing, domestic, homey type.
Only she is something more…dangerous.
She’s boldly sexy and it’s taking every ounce of restraint that I possess to keep from finding her, throwing her down on this bed and ripping her clothes off. I have the distinct urge to see what she looks like lying naked against the checkered comforter that covers the bed.
I look around the room and cringe at the excessive amount of Christmas stuff. It’s way too cherry. Too colorful for my tastes, but it’s hell of a lot warmer and safer than that death machine I traveled here in.
I scoff as I think about that damned buck—he’s probably out there sleeping soundly with his deer family and not even thinking twice about how he’s royally screwed up my life.
After reluctantly pulling my tongue out of Krissy’s beautiful mouth, she bandaged me up and I borrowed her flashlight to go back to the car to retrieve my suitcase. On my way there, I marveled at the lightness in my step. I was actually smiling. Somehow Krissy just made things feel better—even happier, and that is incredibly unfamiliar to me.
I shouldn’t have kissed her, I know that.
I’ll be lucky if she looks at me tomorrow.
But I certainly don’t regret it.
While I was at the car, I took a few minutes to really look at what I’d destroyed, and I feel even worse now. It’s obvious Krissy had put a lot of work into the greenhouse. I can tell it is, or was, full of well-cared for plants. It’s times like this that make me realize I can’t just throw my money around and fix every problem I encounter with cash.
When I made it back up to the house, Krissy was nowhere to be found and I instantly missed her. I made my way up to my room and closed the door, before quickly undressing and getting into bed.
It’s almost two in the morning now, and I’m lying under the quilt with my mind spinning a hundred miles an hour.
I should be thinking about my meeting with Simmons.
I should be scouring the internet for a way to get out of here.
But instead, I’m snuggled up under a quilt someone’s grandmother probably made and replaying the kiss with Krissy over and over in my head, while listening to the quiet peacefulness of this cozy, warm house.
It all sounds so wholesome until you consider the fact that my cock is hard as a rock and while I’m thinking about that kiss, I’m also thinking about doing a lot more things to Krissy that aren’t so wholesome.
My hand reaches down into my boxers and I close my eyes, griping my cock. I stroke myself, squeezing my shaft as I picture Krissy standing in front of me, completely naked. Her tits are large, at least a double D, and I picture her holding them up to me to suckle, lick…torture.
I move my hand harder and faster as my fantasy begins to take over, picturing my cock sliding between those beautiful golden globes. Krissy holds them tight, cradling my aching dick. Precum pours down my hand, I can feel it, sticky, wet and heated, but in my mind it’s dripping down on Krissy’s breasts. Fuck, her tits are so ample that I bet she could lick my cum off of them. The very thought makes my balls tighten and ache with the need to give her more. I stroke myself harder and faster, imagining I’m fucking Krissy’s tits, and just as I crash over the edge, I groan out her name.
KRISSY
“EVERYTHING?” Carol’s voice is full of disbelief.
“All of it. Ruined,” I reply.
“And then he kissed you?”
“Can you believe it?” I whisper into the phone.
“Wow, Krissy, it’s like a movie,” she says. “I’m so mad I’m not there!”
She’s stuck in town and can’t make it up because after we went to bed last night, the snow decided it needed to shift into overdrive and now we’re all stuck. The roads are covered, the snowplows can’t even get up here and until the sun comes out and starts melting things, nobody is going anywhere.
“Why?”
“Because I want to see what he looks like!”
I laugh out loud as I whisk eggs in a bowl. Breakfast is due to be served in an hour and I have a lot of work to do before then.
“Maybe you can sneak a photo?”
“No way,” I reply.
“Fine,” she laughs. “Okay, listen I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”
“I hate it when you do this.” I roll my eyes. “Good news.”
“Great! The good news is I got us a new catering job. It’s the Christmas charity event at the orphanage on the edge of town.”
“Okay, that sounds good…” I pause, knowing the bad part is coming. I hate the bad news part.
“The bad news is that it’s a boat load of homemade cookies and it’s just a few days away. Christmas Eve in fact.”
“Wow, that is soon. I mean, of course I can do it,” I say. “I can practically make cookies in my sleep, you know that.”
“Are you sure? I know things are busy right now. And if I can’t get up there to help, it’ll be worse. I can help you at the event here in town, though.”
“No big deal, I can handle it,” I say, my voice cheery and light.
“Wow, that must have been some kiss. You haven’t been in this good of a mood in…well, I can’t even remember!”
I laugh, because she’s right. I barely slept a wink and yet I feel refreshed and energized in a whole new way. Kissing Maddox has me hungry to see him again… and maybe do more than kiss.
“It was twice,” I whisper, giddily.
“He kissed you twice?” Carol repeats, reminding me why I love her so much. She’s the perfect confidante, because she just gets me.
“Oh, my god, Krissy, did he use tongue?”
I burst out laughing, then purposefully quieten my
self, before whispering.
“Yes! A lot of it!”
“That’s so damned hot,” she says.
“It was hot! Hot enough to melt my panties,” I gush.
Her laughter is so loud, I pull the phone from my ear as I turn around to get the bacon from the fridge. I freeze when I see Maddox standing in the doorway, a bemused smile spread across his devastatingly handsome face.
He looks even better than he did last night — how is that possible?
“Um, Maddox, hello,” I mumble.
Carol stops laughing, then gasps, then way too loudly begins squealing.
“Oh, my god, he heard you?” she cries.
“I gotta go,” I say, clicking the phone off and facing Maddox with an awkward smile.
“Hey you.”
MADDOX
“GOOD MORNING, KRISSY,” I respond, with a grin.
I can’t help but laugh. She looks mortified. But I’m not upset. Not in the least. In fact, my chest puffs out a little at her words, my ego properly stroked.
“That, um, that was my sister,” she explains, wrinkling up her nose adorably. I resist the urge to kiss her again. Now that we’re standing in her kitchen at the break of dawn, the mood is a little cooler than it was last night.
I consider apologizing again, but to be honest, I’m not sorry for kissing her, so why should I? Sure, it’s not something I would normally do—or have done before, for that matter—but I am so very glad I did it. The memory of the feel of her lips on mine brought me almost as much pleasure last night as doing it did. Now that I’ve heard her describing it so eloquently, my ego isn’t the only thing swelling.
“Sorry about that,” she mutters.
“Why?” I ask, closing the distance between us and bringing my lips to her ear as I whisper, “I like the idea of you not wearing any panties.”