by Kennedy Fox
His story seems to be at an end.
Noah stares at me, waiting for me to say something, his grip on me never loosening as he pins me to the wall.
“Where would I fit in, if you’ve already had your great love? I’m not sure I can be someone’s second.”
He lifts me higher and removes one arm from my ass to touch a lock of my hair.
“It took me years to realize I wanted Suzie, my wife. It took one look to know I wanted you.”
“It took you almost a year to even see me,” I say.
He chuckles.
“I saw you the first day I came in. Your hair was shorter and had blonde through it. You served me coffee and offered me a cookie. I told you no a little too harshly, which you smiled at and proceeded then to offer me banana bread. I still said no, but that never stopped you for close to a month from asking me the same questions every time I came in. Until you suddenly stopped.”
My heartbeat picks up. I did all that, so I could hear him speak. But he never did, it was always a simple no.
“I saw you believe me, it’s the only reason I went back. Especially since I have a coffee shop at my office, which has way better coffee than what you serve. But they didn’t have a snarky, dark-eyed beauty there.”
“You know how to make a girl swoon.” I wiggle my eyebrows.
“Suzie and you don’t compare. You are complete opposites in every possible way. My feelings for you have been fast and hard, where my feelings for Suzie were slow and strong.”
“I can accept that.” I smile.
And I can.
I can never replace Suzie, nor would I want to.
“Now, will you hurry up and undress me, so you can fuck me already?”
“That I can oblige too easily,” he says, letting me drop to the floor so I can tear at my clothes. Walking past him to my room, I wait until he comes in before I shut the door behind him. Vicky is due home soon, and the last thing I want would be for her to walk in on me in the middle of the best sex I’ve ever had in my life.
Because let’s be real—sex with Noah makes me extremely happy in every possible way.
He undresses, and this time, he doesn’t take his time. Noah slides into bed with me, his hands stroking my legs as he pushes them apart. His mouth descends, and one stroke of his tongue between them sends shivers up my spine.
A knock sounds on my door, and I freeze.
“Rhi, you here?” Vicky’s voice comes through the door.
Noah’s mouth starts moving down my body, and I bite my arm, stifling a groan.
“Rhi, how was your Sunday function? Who the hell has a function like that on a Sunday anyway?”
“Yeah,” is all I can mutter.
“Is Noah in there with you?” My eyes flutter as he pushes a finger in his mouth, not stopping, not even caring that Vicky could walk in at any moment. There is no lock on that door.
“He is,” Noah answers from between my legs.
Shit, I forgot to answer her.
“Hey, Noah,” Vicky says.
I groan as his fingers start pumping hard and fast with his tongue circling my clit.
“Goodbye, Vicky,” I yell out in between biting my lip as it hits me hard.
He pulls out, gone in an instant, and in place of his fingers and lips is his cock, sliding straight through and pushing in.
And fuck does it feel good.
“Oh, God, you two are fucking.” She giggles, and I ignore her.
Noah lifts my legs until they are up near his head and starts doing exactly that, fucking me. I let him take everything he needs of me, and I am more than willing to give it.
Noah is stealing bits and pieces of me. I can feel them falling away as if I were a puzzle, and he is going to put me back together again.
And I’m more than willing to let him put back all my pieces.
Chapter Eleven
It’s that time, and I’m nervous. I have never taken a man home to meet my parents. Ever. I knew none of them were good enough, and I never really loved any of them anyway.
I’ve seen Noah twice more since Monday night when Vicky was speaking to us through the door.
Both nights, he spent the night with me.
Both nights, I let him do all the dirtiest things to me, which I liked very much.
“Oh my God,” Vicky says, laughing as we walk out of the apartment.
Noah is waiting for us, dressed in a black suit with a red tie, which has only one candy cane on it.
“How can you pull that off? How can you look that good? It’s totally unfair, really.” Vicky shakes her head.
I spin around, letting my knee-length dress dance in the air as I twirl.
“We are matching.” I wink at him. “Maybe later, you will let me taste your candy cane.” I flick my tongue out between my teeth, wiggling my eyebrows.
“Woman, you’ll be the death of me.”
“I mean, if we go out fucking, I’ll be more than happy.”
He taps my ass.
“I hope so.”
Then he leans in and kisses me, quick and fast, as Vicky honks the horn. He opens my door, and I get in.
“Show off.” Vicky snickers, smiling.
Danny is expected to meet us later tonight. Usually, he comes for the alcohol once the judgy, stuck-up suits are well and truly drunk.
Smart really, and I feel sorry for Noah already.
When we pull up, Noah looks at the house, then turns to me.
“Oh, she didn’t tell you she was rich.”
“My parents are, not me,” I say, getting out.
Noah walks around and easily slides his hand in mine.
The house is brightly lit. They have the most decorated house on the whole street at Christmas time. Santa is on the roof with his sleigh, and colored lights are everywhere. It’s really beautiful, and people come from all over to stare at the sparkling wonder.
“I apologize in advance,” I say as we reach the door.
My mother answers and looks straight at me, then to my dress. Of course, I can see the distaste in her eyes before they land on Noah. “You brought a date?” she asks.
“I did,” I answer quickly.
Noah beats me to the introductions as her eyes flick back to him.
“Noah Masters.”
Mum’s eyes go wide at his words. “I have indeed heard of you, Noah. Welcome to my home.” My mother is in a white dress, as most women here are. Even Vicky is in a white dress. While the men have a choice of what to wear, the women really don’t.
I like to be a rebel.
“You approve, Mum?” I ask with a smile as we walk past.
She lifts her lip at me before she shakes her head. I giggle and walk in.
My father steps over to us next and says hello to Noah and pulls him away for a drink. I reluctantly let him go.
“You must marry that one, he’s quite the catch.” My mother walks up behind me as I watch Noah walk away with confidence in to my father’s den.
“We aren’t getting married, Mother,” I say with an eye roll as I spot my sister.
“Christmas has a way of making us fall harder and faster in love. Your father and I were like that,” she says in a sing-song voice as she walks away. My mother met my father in December, and by the end of the month, they were married. Together now for almost thirty years. Go figure!
I’ve heard it takes six months to fall in love with someone. By then you know their quirks and who they really are. Does he make you happy when you think about him? Does he make your heart skip a beat? Is it him you miss when you wake up and he’s not there? Is he your first confidant?
Then I hear stories about love at first sight. Arranged marriages. So many different ways to fall in love.
None of them are right or wrong. They just… are.
Maybe we just are?
Though I am not sure I am in love with Noah, I know for sure I could be falling.
And that could be savage.
“Maybe a thre
esome tonight?”
Oh, for God’s sake, I cringe at Anderson’s voice.
Turning around, Rylee walks over and looks at him, then to me. I don’t even bother paying him any further attention.
“Father seems in love already.” Rylee nods to where Noah is standing in a group with my father and his friends, they’re all laughing.
“I’m going to steal him,” I say, walking away. I don’t want to stand anywhere near Anderson because I’m unsure if I can keep my opinions to myself. Walking over, I step up next to Noah. He looks at me and slides his hand around my waist. My father smiles in approval.
“I see you wore your mother’s favorite dress,” my father says, winking.
“Of course.”
“You look beautiful,” Noah says.
“That she does. Always do, don’t you, biscuit,” my father says. He taps his friend on the back. “Why don’t you take Noah out back and show him what your mother does for Christmas.”
I nod as my father and his friends walk away.
“Your mother really loves Christmas, hey?”
“She does. She says it’s the best time of the year. It’s the best excuse to see everyone, to see those you love. She says it is magical,” I whisper. “We were born on Christmas day,” I say, turning to him.
“Your birthday is on Christmas?” he asks, surprised.
“Sure is. This year the big twenty-three.”
“Oh to be that young again,” he says as we walk out.
“I bet your life was already planned out by then.”
“Sure was. Married and working.” As soon as we step out the back door, his words stop.
“Beautiful, isn’t it? It’s the only reason I still come.” Our mother has the whole backyard filled with snow. A snow machine is constantly blowing snow to give you the illusion it’s snowing. It’s always hot here at Christmas, and I’ve never had a real white Christmas. Even when I was traveling, I had to come back for Christmas.
This is my version of a white Christmas.
“It’s magical.” He turns to face me.
“As you are.” A piece of snow blows onto my face, and he wipes it away. “Your father is immensely proud of you. Did you know that? All he did was tell us about your travels and how you live independently and have done so since you were old enough to be on your own.”
I look at him, surprised.
“And your mother, she adores you. But I get the feeling you keep her on her toes with your attitude, which she secretly loves. She smirked at me when you looked down at your dress after she asked why you were wearing it. She definitely enjoys your antics.” His words rock me to my core.
“They are smitten with you.”
“Only because I am smitten with you.” I shake my head at his words.
“No, you could have brought any man, but if you weren’t smiling like you did, I’m sure they wouldn’t have approved.”
“I’m no Rylee,” I say to him.
Noah wraps his arms around my back and dips me. I smile up at him.
“No, you are completely different, yet so much the same. You, Rhianna Harley, are the fire to this family and the light in my eyes right now.” He leans down and kisses me.
“I think I found my birthday and Christmas gift all wrapped in one package” I smile at him.
“Oh, and what is that?”
“You…my love-struck lover.” I smile at him.
“Absolutely. Because, baby, I’m all fucking yours.”
“Merry Christmas.” I smirk, then lean up and take those lips.
And what fucking lips they are.
Now, they’re all mine.
If you want to read Rylee’s story, click here.
About the Author
USA Today Best Selling Author T.L. Smith loves to write her characters with flaws so beautiful and dark you can't turn away. Her books have been translated into several languages. If you don't catch up with her in her home state of Queensland, Australia you can usually find her travelling the world, either sitting on a beach in Bali or exploring Alcatraz in San Francisco or walking the streets of New York.
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Chapter One
CALLISTA
“Shit,” I mumble, looking up at the screen in the airport. My shoulders slump as I read the screen. Delayed. My flight is delayed. Again. I’ve been here for over twenty-four hours trying to catch a flight home. My sister, Charity, and her husband, Brody, are due to have their first baby any day now. My boss sent me to Michigan for what was supposed to be a two-day shoot the day after Christmas. Now, here I am the day before New Year’s Eve, which is also the day before my sister's due date, and I’m still not home. This trip has been a fucking disaster. I just want to get home to Cedar Rapids before my niece is born.
Charity is not just my sister. She’s my best friend. We’re Irish twins—she was born in January, and I was born in December, the same year. That’s another reason I’m anxious to be home. Twenty-six isn’t a milestone birthday, but I still want to be home. When Charity told me her due date was on my birthday, she was worried I might be upset. I was the opposite. I hope Sadie—that’s what they’re naming her—is born on my birthday. I’m going to be the best aunt to that little angel, and sharing a birthday is just another bond that will bring us together. I can see us celebrating our joint birthdays for years to come.
Glancing over my shoulder, I see the line for the rental cars. It’s about a mile long. I’m not particularly looking forward to the eight-hour drive, especially in this weather, but I have to get home. Tired of waiting, I grab my carry-on and head toward the end of the line. As I stand here, I know that I need to break the news to my parents and my sister.
Me: Hey. My flight’s delayed again.
I follow the message up with a picture of the line I’m standing in.
Me: Trying to get a rental to drive home.
Charity: Again? How bad is the weather? Are you sure you should be driving? If flights are canceled, that sounds bad.
She’s not wrong, but I’m determined to be home when she delivers my niece.
Me: I’ll be fine. It’s an eight-hour drive, but it’s more than likely going to take longer. I’ll keep you posted.
Charity: Please be safe.
Me: Will do. Will you let Mom and Dad know?
Charity: On it.
Even though I’m turning twenty-six, I’m still really close to my family. We’re tight-knit. I still check in with my parents often, and Charity and I talk every single day. Every few minutes, the line inches forward. I try to psych myself up for this drive that is sure to have me white-knuckling the steering wheel all the way home. Driving in snow isn’t new to me, but that doesn’t mean I want to do an eight-hour stint either. Luckily, I’m prepared and have my cell charger. I’ll just plug it in, pull up my playlist, and take my time. It’s better than just sitting here in this airport waiting for yet another flight. I make a mental note of snacks to pick up before leaving the airport. I want to make the least number of stops as possible.
The line moves forward another couple of inches, and I glance at my watch. It’s been twenty minutes already. I scroll through my phone, checking emails to pass the time, when a loud voice asking, “Can I have your attention?” calls out to the crowd. I slide my phone into my pocket and brace myself for what else could possibly go wrong.
“I’m sorry, but we are out of rentals. That’s all,” the young guy says as he turns and walks away from the counter. Coward. I’m sure he’s running from the furious mob that includes me and at least fifty others standing with me, waiting for a car. Of course, I know it’s not his fault, but come on, this is out of hand.
Defeated, I leave the line and find a bench. Tilting my head back, I let out a frustrated sigh. I’m going to have to call Charity and tell her I might not make it home. What a
clusterfuck.
“Callista?” a deep male voice asks.
Opening my eyes, I look up to find none other than Silas Taylor standing over me. “Silas?” I ask, not really sure if my eyes and my mind are playing tricks on me. It figures that I would run into my brother-in-law's sexy best friend while I’m gross and living in an airport.
“Fancy meeting you here.” He gives me the panty-dropping grin that he’s known for, and I fight the urge to look behind me to see the women in the airport doing just that. Silas Taylor and his dimpled charm are lethal.
“Yeah.” I nod like an idiot. In my defense, the dark gray sweatpants he’s wearing low on his hips are even more distracting than the damn dimples. It’s obvious he has that V that I’m always reading about, and it’s times like this I wish I had X-ray vision.
“Headed home?” he asks.
“I’ve been here for over twenty-four hours trying to get home. My flight keeps getting delayed, and I was hoping to rent a car and just drive, but—” I wave to the desk behind him. “—they just announced they’re out of cars.” I pat at my hair, sure that it’s sticking up all over the damn place. “You?” I ask, trying to make casual conversation. It’s not like there’s much else to do in this damn airport. Might as well make the best of it.
He holds up a set of keys. “Driving home.” Those damn dimples wink at me again. “You want a lift?” he asks.
Shaking out of my dimple-induced fog, I sit up straighter. “You’re headed back to Cedar Rapids?”
He chuckles. “I do live there. Are you feeling okay?”
No. Your fucking dimples are distracting me. “Sorry, I’m exhausted. I didn’t really sleep well. You know, sleeping in the airport with lots of creepy people I don’t know. All the rooms were booked as well, so I spent the night in the hard-ass chairs, constantly trying to rest, but keep one eye open, if that makes any sense?” I ramble.