Page 58 of Pining for Christmas

Oh, god.

This is so awkward.

Lying in bed with my boss, our breaths soft in the quiet, I’ve never been so aware of my body. The awkward sprawl of my limbs, never comfortable no matter how much I shift position. The itch of my still-damp hair against the back of my neck. My breathing. My gurgling stomach. My racing heart.

The wind moans outside our bedroom window, the blizzard still raging out there. Probably burying Reid’s car under mounds of heavy snow. Oh man, what if we’re trapped here another night? What if I have to spendanothernight lying beside my boss in bed, dying a slow, agonizing death of awkwardness?

“Stop fretting,” Reid snaps. “I’m not going to touch you, Noelle. You can stop gnawing on your fingernails.”

Balling my hand into a fist, I wrench it away from my mouth. Okay, so maybe I was stress-nibbling. Can’t he just go to sleep and leave me to freak out in peace?

“That’s not what I’m worried about, you giant jerk.”

Reid laughs, bitter and scornful. “Your December bonus is safe too. Go to sleep so we can get this night over with.”

Ugh. Flopping over onto my side, I glare at the shadowed outline of my boss, and picture smothering his beautiful head with a pillow.

It takes a long time. Takes what feels likehours,though Reid never shifts or rolls over to face me too.

But I fall asleep with a scowl on my face—and our earlier kiss still tingling on my lips.

* * *

Heat.

Comfort.

Safety.

When I surface from a fuzzy dream, I’m being held. Not just held—clutched. Gripped possessively in my boss’s arms, my back sealed against his marble chest. Held so tightly, it’s like he’s worried that pirates might steal me away in the night.

Reid’s sleeping breaths puff against my neck. Slow and deep.

His hard cock digs into my ass cheek.

Ah, crap.

Reid’s going to be so weird about this if he wakes up and finds us tangled together. He’ll probably storm into the bathroom again and lock the door, barricading himself in there until morning. Guilt swirls through my belly at the thought—but hey,I’mnot the one with octopus arms in this bed. I’m not the one clinging on for dear life.

That is all Reid Merryweather.

Pressing my lips together, I will my galloping heart to slow down, because I shouldn’t be so thrilled to find myself in my boss’s arms. Need to focus. Need to slip free.

He’ll hate himself if he wakes up and finds out he broke his word. If he finds out he touched me after all, despite swearing he wouldn’t.

I can’t allow that. Reid Merryweather already hates himself plenty.

“Just… okay…” Whispering to myself, I pat down the length of Reid’s arm, trying to figure out a way to unhook him. Whenhis shirtsleeve turns to fever-hot bare skin, I pause, gulp, and keep going.

His forearm is toned and taut. His bones are so muchbiggerthan mine, thicker and sturdier, and the fine layer of dark hair feels silky. I find his wrist and then his hand, scooped right around my waist.

Hmm.

We really are locked together, tangled tight.

My lower belly pulses, a traitorous slickness gathering between my thighs.

No.No. I won’t think like that. Won’t notice how good this feels. How right and hot and grounding, with Reid’s weight and strength behind me, and the possessive way he holds me. Like I’m his. Like he could rock forward at any minute, roll me face down into the mattress, and slide home into my body.

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