Page 19 of Santa's Pucking Hat Trick

“You know, I’m not so good with words. Explaining that kind of thing…it takes the magic out of it. But I can show you, if you like,” Roman said to me. And damn it, there was that flash of metal in his mouth again, making me want to squirm in my seat. Predictable, but it made it no less tempting.

“Yeah, I bet you’d like that,” I tried to scoff.

“Oh, I’m sure I would.” His eyes almost seared my skin as they swept over me, leaving warm hyperawareness in their wake. It made it hard to stay in my chair—hell, in my skin. But I shook my head, and pointed back to his own chair, staring directly into his eyes if only to keep from looking at the rest of him.

“Sit. Down.” The words came out almost as growls, and I could have sworn I saw Roman shiver in response. But he gave me another low “yes, ma’am” that made me want to rip his clothes off, and he sat back in his chair. So my interview could continue.Safer question, Rachel. Quickly.

“What’s your favorite part about being on a team like the Santas?” A family-friendly Christmas-obsessed hockey team. That had to be safe territory, surely.

“You mean other than getting to see your pretty face—and those tight skirts—at work every day?”

Or not.I rolled my eyes. “Please. You’ve been on the team way longer than I’ve been here. You expect me to believe I’m the reason you come to practice every day?”

“Not the only reason,” he conceded. “But it’s been a nice bonus lately.”

Damn it. His charm offensive usually seemed so put-upon, but that sounded genuine as hell, and it almost made me smile. Instead, I put my lips to use with another rebuttal. “I’m sure you say that kind of thing to every woman you meet.”

“Me? A sweet talker?” His eyes glinted with mischief. I wanted to laugh, but I resisted giving him that victory.

“Unheard of, I’m sure.”

“Actually, outside of the bedroom, yeah,” Roman mused. “I guess I usually don’t have to talk much to get a woman to come home with me. All this,” he gestured toward himself, his incredible physique, “usually does the trick on its own.”

“Then why try it with me?”

“Well, you haven’t come home with me yet, have you? Clearly, you take a little more effort than most.”

That sounded like a compliment. I swallowed, my throat suddenly feeling quite dry. “I figured that would be a deterrent. If you can find easier marks at any bar, mall, or freaking synagogue in the tristate area, why waste your time and efforts on me?”

His pause, the way he blinked with a sort of perplexed expression on his face, told me he’d never considered thewhyof this before now either. But it was just a moment of his overconfidence faltering. That untouchable grin was back in place in seconds. “Maybe you interest me more than other women do. I’m just being honest when I say that I look forward to seeing you.”

I blinked at him. Was he serious? How could he really look forward to seeing me when I’d been nothing but surly to him since the second we met? But I’d basically already asked him why, and Roman could tell I was too stunned to ask further. He elaborated on his own.

“I won’t lie to you. Got no reason to. Your body…yeah, it’s a big part of the appeal.” His eyes swept over me again, seemingto strip me bare. My breath hitched, and I didn’t know how to handle the fact that he was once again sliding out of his chair, moving closer to me. He stopped in front of my chair, leaning in to place his big hands on the wooden arms, bracketing me in with his body the way he’d done the first time we ever spoke at the ice center. His voice was so low as he went on. “But there’s something else there too. You’ve been taking up space in my head a lot more than any other beautiful woman ever has.”

He’d been taking up way more real estate in my own thoughts than I wanted, too. I tilted my head back so I could look up at him, meeting those eyes as full-on and fearlessly as I could pretend to feel.

“Enough with the flattery. You just want what you can’t have.”

“Maybe,” he conceded. I felt his breath on my face, and I shivered, which made him grin. “But, Christ, Rachel, you should see yourself. You’re all flushed,” he said, letting a gentle finger come up to trace the pink of my cheek, so delicate I could almost pretend he hadn’t actually made contact. I wanted to sigh into the touch.Stop this, Rachel. Be professional.

“And your breathing…it’s a little heavy for someone just sitting there, unimpressed by me. Unaffected,” he went on, almost conversationally. With a cheeky energy that was almost playful, he leaned in and nuzzled my nose with his own, and my shaky gasp of surprise only further proved him right. “I may not be an expert on you, but I know what it looks like when a woman wants to fuck me. And Rachel, you sure look like you want me just as bad as I want you right now.”

I tried to be strong. Really, I did. I tried to listen to that rational, professional part of my brain that was screaming at me to shut this down, throw him another softball, not-too-personal question and focus on the task at hand now that I finally had theopportunity to interview him. But it was no use—like trying to dry up a tidal wave with a roll of paper towels.

I knew I was going to kiss him even before I reached for him, delved my hands into his dark hair, and let my lips crash against his.

It was a mistake. Worse, it was premeditated. And yet the second our lips were together, moving in perfect sync, parting to allow our tongues to dance too, I no longer cared about the consequences. Because Christ, Roman was agoodkisser. Maybe I’d hoped that he would be all bark and no bite, that there was no way someone as full of himself as Roman Jett could actually have the skills to back up his reputation. But those girls in the bathroom at Candy Cane Jane’s had gushed about howbadhe was, and they were right, because his mouth was absolutely sinful.

I was more than happy to be damned.

Roman half growled against my mouth as his strong arms wrapped around me, crushing me against him. My crossed legs fell open, making space for him to stand between my knees, so close that I felt the movement of his cock hardening against the apex of my thighs and I gasped into our kiss, edging forward on my chair to feel more of him. It was more frantic, now, our mouths picking up in intensity and in pace as Roman ground his hips further into me, giving me a taste of the friction my pussy craved. In those gray sweats, I could feel every inch of him as he grew hard, solidifying to a substantial length and girth.

Fuck my vibrator.Thiswas what I needed.

The second I let my hands slide down from Roman’s hair, gliding over the fuzzy shaved parts at the back of his head, down his muscular shoulders and finally the small of his back, I knew there was no stopping this. My hands searched for his skin, pulling up his shirt, and in seconds he was breaking our kiss justto tear it off and give me better access. I gripped his warm skin desperately, letting my nails dig in, which he seemed to like.

Roman returned his mouth to my ear, catching it between his teeth in a tiny bite of pain that sent a thrill through me. As he moved lower to kiss my neck, leaving gentle love bites that I knew would make marks, his hands found their way to the front of my jeans, flicking open the button and zipper with a deft finger like he’d done this thousands of times before.

---