Page 49 of Under the Mistletoe
Putting the dress back, I run my hands across each item. There’re dresses, work attire, jeans, shirts, coats. Everything that you could want or need. I walk the entire length of the closet and don’t stop until I get to the end, and there, hanging right at the end of it all, is his business shirt, the same one I was wearing in Lake Placid. Giddy, I pull it out. It’s a little creased, which tells me it hasn’t been washed, and I grin, taking it with me, now having the perfect outfit to wear. I change, throwing my hair in a topknot, and pad out to the kitchen with bare feet, deciding to start dinner. His conference call will end soon, and I know he’ll be just as hungry as I am.
I got carried away. I do have a tendency to get lost in my work. Whether in the office, going through spreadsheets and data with a fine-tooth comb, or in the kitchen, making a simple pasta carbonara that then extends to homemade garlic bread and two small chocolate lava cakes for dessert, I’m hyperfocused.
Not only is his refrigerator fully stocked, but also his pantry. Plus, I discovered a separate butler’s pantry hidden away, where I found the small wine cellar he’d mentioned to me over dinner the other week. I grabbed a Pinot from Sonoma. The label looked familiar and the name, Stonemore, is well known so I thought it was a good choice.
Now, with the table set, candles lit, the wine open and breathing, I think I’ve officially outdone myself. And as I hear the chime from the elevator, I got it all done in the nick of time.
“Jessica?” I turn as Donovan walks in, hanging up his coat and scarf in a secret coat closet that I didn’t spot when I walked in, and as he looks up, he pauses. A large smile comes to his face instantly.
“What’s all this?” Eyes roaming over everything, he loosens his tie.
“I thought I would cook us dinner.” I shrug, not sure how he feels about it all, but the wide grin on his face relaxes me somewhat.
“You worked all day. I certainly wasn’t expecting anything… I thought we might get takeout, but this…” His eyes do another sweep of the table as his hands find my waist. “It smells amazing”
My chest warms. “Yeah, well, I’m not sure what it will taste like, but I wanted to make myself useful. So…”
“You look good in my home…” Seeing me in his shirt, my hair pulled back, nothing on my feet, his voice grows even deeper.
“I do?” I grin, feeling good here in his space, in his shirt, in his arms.
“You look good in my shirt, baby.” His lips drop, touching my chest, before he starts kissing along my collarbone.
“It’s my favorite,” I tease, but really, it easily could be.
“You’re my favorite.” His lips run back up my neck, to my jaw, my head immediately falling back, submitting to him.
“You had a good day?” I know, of course, since I spent most of my day with him, but I want to know how his day ended.
“I did…” His lips haven’t left my skin as I feel him starting to open the buttons of his shirt. My breathing deepens, the shirt falling from my frame, me standing in front of him in my underwear, the shirt now a mere puddle on the floor at my feet.
“The conference all go well?” My breath leaves me for a moment as his hands find my waist, and he walks us back toward the window.
“Very… well…” he murmurs against my lips before he kisses me and leaves me breathless. Our lips mesh, my body turns liquid, and I forget what day it even is. He kisses like he means it. Deliberate, scolding, like he wants to ensure I know he’s mine. It makes my knees weak, my pulse thud in my neck, my body relaxed, sultry, and I want to turn myself over to him and let him do whatever he likes.
“Donovan,” I whisper-moan his name as his hands cup my ass, and he lifts me up, my legs circling his waist, our bodies colliding.
“I’ve craved you all day. Since this morning… since you came undone on my desk.” His words are muffled between kisses as my hands run down his torso and land on his belt.
“Yeah?” I ask breathily, beyond turned on as I open his belt buckle, feeling him already hard and ready underneath.
“All I’ve thought about is your pretty pussy,” he says as I push open his pants, maneuvering myself enough to let them fall to the floor as my back hits the glass of his floor-to-ceiling windows, the coolness biting my bare skin.
I moan at the cold, my back arching in response as his mouth moves from mine. His lips caress my bare shoulders as he pulls down my bra straps, kissing to my breast. I’m panting like I’ve run a marathon, anticipation building in me so quickly it should be embarrassing. He grips me tight with one hand as the other tugs down my bra cup, his lips immediately closing around my nipple.
“Oh my…” My head rolls back as my hand dives into his underwear, feeling his hardness, wanting him closer, needing more.
“Your hands on my body are everything…” His voice is hoarse. Like he’s almost unable to control it. He kisses back up my chest and latches onto my mouth. As we kiss feverishly, I push down his underwear, the two of us a tangle of limbs, the peak-hour traffic almost silent below us from this far up in the New York skyline.
“Fuck, baby.” He slaps his hand against the window at the side of my head, gripping around my waist tight as my body arches, our hips connected, my upper back plastered to the glass.
“Can anyone see?” I ask half-heartedly, too far gone to care, just wanting to have him right there against the window.
“They wouldn’t dare…” He pulls my underwear to the side, watching where we’re about to connect, and I see stars with just anticipation as he teases my entrance.
“Yes…” I almost can’t talk, my breath leaving me as I feel him push inside.
“Fuck,” he grits out and lunges forward, his mouth locking with mine.
