Page 14 of One-Click Christmas
Her dress hitched up. Her nipple exposed to the cold. My hand buried between her legs, soaked in her need.
A moment later, the same image flashes in, but with the actor from the Italian restaurant. His hand on her leg, her performative smile, the stare she shot me to prove she could get everyone hard.
Fuck!
With little effort, I explode, spilling hot come all over my hand and onto my jeans.
I sit there, breathing shallow, jeans stained, hand sticky, and still she’s in my head loud and clear.
I want more of her. Her thoughts, her feelings, her stories, her chaos, her contradictions. I want to know her in ways no one ever has. I want to hold her close, be there when she cries, be the one she lets in, the one person she never has to doubt… and I want it for more than a story.
Chapter Seven
Lana
Holly stares at me as though she’s expecting the tea.
“Yeah, I’m a hot mess,” I say, cheeks burning red.
“Marley may have mentioned she ran into you last night.” She grins. “Sounds like way more fun than a birthday party.” Bookmark jumps up onto the counter and purrs, scrubbing up against us for pets. “Girl, you just hit the jackpot. Are you and the hot rich author running off together now? Please don’t leave the mountain. I need you.”
I roll my eyes playfully and grab the box of ornaments for the decorating contest then walk them to the back room where Marley has already set up a long folding table with decorative red cloth. “It wasn’t like that. It was a one-time thing. We didn’t even do anything.”
Holly’s brows shoot up playfully as though she doesn’t believe me. “That’s not what Marley said.”
Sometimes I really regret living in a small town. Then again, I did let a man finger me in the wide-open alley thirty feet from the street.
“We did something, but it wasn’t a big deal,” I mutter, organizing the glitter on the table. “He needed inspiration for a story. I gave it to him. That’s all. It’s over now. Trust me. I didn’t even hear from him last night. Well,” I nod my head as I pourthe green and red bulbs into the center bowl, “he made sure I got home okay, but that’s just formality.”
Holly tilts her head to the side and crosses her arms in front of her chest as though she’s annoyed. “He likes you, trust me. I’ve dated plenty of dudes who don’t give a follow up call. Besides, he couldn’t stop staring at you yesterday. Helikesyou.”
“He needed a muse,” I say, grabbing the craft bin out from the nearby closet. “That’s all.” I glance back toward the table, trying to focus on what else needs to be set up for the bulb decorating contest. I think I’ve got everything. Oh, except for glue. I need glue.
“Where is Marley, anyway? I thought she’d be here this morning.”
Holly shrugs. “I think she’s nervous about the shop closing. After she told me about running into you last night, she mentioned how the signing hadn’t given the store the boost she was hoping for.”
“That sucks. Maybe I should see if Hunter would be willing to come back around for a second reading. Technically, he owes me now, right?”
My excitable friend laughs. “Totally owes you, but I’m not sure that would do the trick. I think the store is in bigger trouble than Marley is letting on. I’m following up with the estate sale at that huge place on the other side of the mountain this week, so hopefully something will come of that. Some of these special edition books are worth thousands of dollars and people stupidly sell them for pennies. It would mean a huge influx of revenue for the store, maybe even help pay some bills while we figure out the day-to-day answers.”
I nod, trying to think of something we can do to drag in more shoppers, but my head isn’t in the right space for business. It’s still on last night and the way Hunter’s rough hands feltscraping against my skin. It’s still on the feral look in his eyes as he watched me flirt with that other man.
I’m a useless mess and I need to get my head back in the game. Marley and the bookstore need me now more than ever. That said, a twitch lands between my thighs as the bell rings over the front door. My eyes follow the sound instinctively, stopping when I see him.
The tall man with broad shoulders in a black T-shirt, tattoos streaking up both arms, jeans tight, sunglasses in place. It takes half a second for the women in the bookstore to realize who’s just walked in and they flock toward him immediately, their words sounding like gibberish, their hands all over his solid chest. I never would have believed the liberties women take until I saw it with my own eyes.
He walks through them like they’re in his way as he strides toward me.
Oh God, he’s coming this way!
Big, wide, and perfect.
He lands a short stack of papers on the counter, though his gaze never leaves mine.
What’s happening?
A moment later, he’s pushing me into the storage closet, kicking the door closed with a thud.
