Christmas Help Her

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Christmas Help Her ISBN # 1-4199-0829-4 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Christmas Help Her Copyright© 2006 Isabo Kelly. Edited by Mary Altman. Cover art by Syneca. Electronic book Publication: December 2006 This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 443103502. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

Content Advisory: S – ENSUOUS E – ROTIC X - TREME Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (Erotic), and X (X-treme). The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. This story has been rated E–rotic. S-ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination. E-rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. E-rated titles might contain material that some readers find objectionable—in other words, almost anything goes, sexually. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry in terms of both sexual language and descriptiveness in these works of literature. X-treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Stories designated with the letter X tend to contain difficult or controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.

CHRISTMAS HELP HER

Isabo Kelly

Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Target: Target Brands, Inc. Wal-Mart: Wal-Mart Stores, Inc.

Christmas Help Her

Chapter One Paige Rogers stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She looked sallow. Pale. Old. Her brown hair hung limply around her shoulders, stringy and… Was that a gray hair? Great. The creases on her forehead—caused by worry, her mother claimed— seemed deeper than they had a month ago. More permanent. And she was in desperate need of a facial. “I’m a crone,” she said, loud enough for her friend Viola to hear. Viola was in the tiny living room, admiring the little apartment-sized Christmas tree that took up one corner. Paige had opened the door to let her gorgeous friend in and knew by Viola’s expression that she didn’t look good. She’d headed directly to the bathroom, and the mirror confirmed her suspicions. She was worn out. “You’re only thirty-two years old,” Viola called back. “You’re too young to be a crone.” “I’m ahead of my time.” She fingered the purple smudges under her eyes and shook her head. Two full-time jobs were two too many, although she truly loved one of them. She didn’t even think of it as work most of the time. The art school had been a dream of hers since childhood. Last year, she’d finally made the leap, rented a small space and opened the doors of a school designed to train aspiring artists who couldn’t afford fancier institutions. Unfortunately, they couldn’t afford to pay much tuition at her school either. Since they couldn’t afford much, she had to keep her day job to continue to fund the school. With one last, disgusted look in the mirror, Paige headed to the living room. Viola was setting a present under the tree next to the half dozen already there. Christmas was less than a week away. The holiday couldn’t have come too soon for Paige. She gave the pretty little tree lights a cursory smile, then settled onto her couch with a groan. 5

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Viola faced her, smiled and shook her head. “What’s wrong, girl? What’s with all this crone talk? You’re usually in a better mood at Christmas.” “I feel dry. Used up. There’s nothing left. No energy. No enthusiasm. I’ve given everything I’ve got, and now I don’t have anything left over for me.” She met Viola’s gaze and said, “I haven’t had the energy for so much as a sexual thought in the last six months. How sad is that? I’m supposed to be in my sexual prime, and I’m frigid.” “You’re not frigid.” Viola laughed. “If you were, I wouldn’t have to keep hearing how much you miss sex.” She settled onto the couch next to Paige. Paige couldn’t help but admire the way her friend managed to sit so gracefully in her skintight, fire engine red miniskirt. She crossed mile-long legs so that they were perfectly displayed, her chocolate-colored skin smooth from a recent wax. Paige couldn’t remember the last time she’d even shaved her legs, never mind invested in a full-blown wax. But then, she didn’t have Viola’s excellent legs to show off either. “You’re tired,” her friend said, patting her shoulder. “Who has time for sex when they work hundred-hour weeks like you?” “I’m not even talking about meeting a man I’m attracted to and having sex. I’d feel better if I could muster the imagination for even one hot thought.” “Read one of those erotic romances you love. Those always give me hot thoughts.” “I tried.” She sighed and tears actually welled in her eyes. “I fell asleep.” One of her tears of exhaustion rolled down her cheek. “What does that say about me?” “It says you’re overworked.” Viola wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t cry. You’re not a crone. You’re not old and you’re not frigid. You’re overworked. Which is why you’re taking two whole weeks off for the holidays. A little sleep, a little pampering and you’ll be having more sexy thoughts than you know what to do with.” Paige rubbed her cheek, wiping away the single tear, and laughed. “I’m feeling sorry for myself. You’re right. I just need to catch up on my sleep.” Two weeks without having to be an accountant would be nice. Her day job paid the bills, but it wasn’t her passion. She was going to miss her art school over the next two weeks. But since the 6

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place was closed for the holidays, she didn’t have the option of putting in some hours there. Probably a good thing, because Viola was right. She needed a break. “Exactly. Listen to Auntie Viola and get some sleep. Pamper yourself. Get dressed up in sexy clothes and go out. Turning a few male heads will help you feel young again.” Viola rose to her impressive six-foot-one-inch height and smoothed her red skirt. “Speaking of turning male heads.” Paige nodded to the scoop neck of Viola’s skintight sweater. “Pretty hot outfit for an office party.” “There’s this beautiful boy who just started with us a few months ago. I’ve had my eye on him for a while now.” She smoothed a hand over her cropped black hair and winked. “Tonight I wanna make sure his eyes are on me.” “Not going to be a problem.” She pulled herself out of the couch cushions to walk Viola to the door. She always felt dwarfed next to her friend, her own five-foot-fiveinches no match for Viola’s Amazonian proportions. “I’ll call you day after tomorrow, once I get to my momma’s house,” Viola said as she hovered half in, half out of Paige’s front door. “I’m sorry I won’t be here to keep you company over Christmas.” “I’ll be fine. I’m looking forward to a little quiet time alone.” “Just don’t spend the whole two weeks alone. That’s not good for you either.” She leaned over and kissed Paige on the cheek. “And read a sexy book. It’ll make you feel better.” Paige laughed as she closed the door. Then she rested her forehead against the cool wood. It wasn’t just sex, or even the thought of sex, that she missed. She missed male companionship. She missed flirting and that excitement you got in your belly when you met a man who made your pulse race. She envied Viola her crush—the beautiful boy from work didn’t know what he was in for.

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What she missed the most, though, was the feel of a strong male arm draping across her waist in the middle of the night and pulling her close to the heat of another body. Her empty bed had felt lonelier the closer the holidays got. Having a man to share her passions and her burdens would be as nice as having one around for some seriously hot sex. Unfortunately, if she couldn’t find the energy for a sexy thought, she sure as hell didn’t have the energy to find a man. Maybe Santa Claus would send her one for Christmas. She pushed away from the door and headed back to the living room, chuckling at the idea of Santa sending her a man. She could write him a letter. “Dear Santa, please leave a gorgeous hunk of a man under my tree this year, clothing not necessary, wrapped in a big red bow.” She laughed out loud. She’d have to tell that one to Viola. She turned into the bathroom and faced her haggard reflection again. “What man would even want you looking like this?” There was definite crone potential in the face staring back at her. She pushed up the skin around her eyes, trying to lift the bags. When that didn’t help, she dropped her hands and groaned. Now was a very good time to start her vacation by going to bed early. Sleep would help those bags. And in the morning, the pampering would begin.

But at three a.m., Paige stared at her clock and realized she was too wide-awake to sleep anymore. She’d been surviving on three to four hours of sleep a night for months. Staying asleep longer than that to catch up on her much-needed rest wasn’t going to be as easy as it sounded. She pushed back her warm comforter, slipped into the thick, cozy folds of her robe and padded out to the living room. She’d forgotten to turn the Christmas tree lights off when she went to bed. The multicolored hues twinkled as she entered the otherwise dark room. She liked the effect, so she kept the main lights off and sat at the base of her little tree. Scanning the handful of presents, she spotted Viola’s addition immediately. 8

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Her brother and parents wrapped presents in traditional paper bought at Wal-Mart or Target. Viola always seemed to find something cool and exotic to wrap presents in. Last year, she’d actually used faux fur. Velvet seemed to be the theme this year. The present Paige had seen when she answered the door the evening before was wrapped in green velvet and embellished with golden thread crossing its surface. Next to the green velvet box was another present she hadn’t seen before. This one was wrapped in red velvet and tied up with a big golden bow. Viola must have snuck that one in when Paige wasn’t looking. Curious, she picked up the long, rectangular box. She shook it and something heavy shifted. In the depths of the ribbon, she found a card that said, “To help with your little problem”. Paige stared at the red velvet and nibbled her lower lip. She had a pretty good idea what was in the green velvet box. Viola balanced her creative wrapping talent with a complete lack of discretion when it came to keeping the contents of a present secret. But Paige had no idea what was in the red velvet present. She frowned. Maybe she should open it now. The card indicated it was something that would help her relax. Viola would want her to open it at the start of her holiday. She’d probably be expecting a thank-you when she called later in the week. And really, with a card like that, she could hardly expect Paige to resist opening the box. Paige grinned and started to peel away the luscious velvet, a happy little shiver skittering up her spine. She half expected to find a sex toy of some kind, given that the “little problem” she’d been griping about so much lately was her lack of orgasms. Viola probably found her a holiday-themed dildo. She laughed. “Surprised you could keep that present to yourself,” she said aloud as she revealed the gold foil box beneath the velvet. But instead of the vibrator she’d been expecting, when she opened the lid, she found a heavy, leather-bound book. Embossed in gold on the cover was the title The Christmas Helper.

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“Weird.” She flipped open the cover and was hit by the scent of worn leather and a hint of spices. The smells mingled with the pine from her live tree, filling her with a warm tingle. Since it was the first tingle she’d experienced in a while, she grinned and fingered the smooth texture of the book’s cover. There was just something about the feel and smell of good leather. As she savored the tactile effects of the book, she studied the first page. No author credits were given, but under the elaborately lettered title was a reproduced charcoal drawing of a fluffy cat swatting at a Christmas ornament which dangled from the bottom of a pine tree. The sketch was framed so that only the bottom third of the Christmas tree showed, bringing more attention to the cat itself. Despite the use of only charcoal, Paige could practically see the green pine needles, the multicolored decorations and the deep red of the round ball the cat was batting with its little paw. She even got the impression the cat was white, though it was impossible to assign a color to the animal in the medium used. The skill that went into creating this drawing awed her. It was beautiful, alive and nearly breathing on the page. Such talent. Paige loved art, which was why she opened the school, but she wasn’t an artist herself. She was very good at running things, though. And running a place that nurtured just this kind of artistry had always been her dream. She brushed a finger over the cat’s fur, expecting to feel the soft texture, then laughed at herself when she felt only paper. She flipped to the next page, expecting some indication of author or publisher. Instead, she found a recipe for mulled wine. The next page had instructions for the perfect relaxation bath for the holidays, complete with the scents of good candles to burn and the type of bubbles to add. After that came another recipe, this one for a spicy ginger cake with whipped cream. Now she could see why Viola bought her the book. It was probably full of ideas for relaxation and pampering, as well as foods to enjoy while indulging in that pampering.

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This wouldn’t help her have an orgasm. But it might loosen her up enough that she could at least fantasize herself to one. She flicked through a few more pages, then stopped suddenly as another charcoal print caught her attention. Again the picture was beautifully rendered, each detail expertly drawn to practically bring the subject to life. Only this time, the picture was of a naked man. A magnificently naked man with a fully erect cock rising out a nest of dark curls. The man’s penis was so detailed there were veins visible along its length, and she would swear she saw a drop of moisture beading on the bulbous head. He was thick enough to raise her eyebrows, but not so long as to look unreal. His balls hung heavily between his spread thighs. Swallowing, she let her gaze roam over the rest of the man’s body. His legs were well-muscled and covered lightly with hair. His stomach was flat, his abs cut with impressive ridges. A dark line of hair arrowed down the middle of his tight stomach to join with the curls at his groin. His chest was also chiseled, his nipples flat and dark. Broad shoulders rounded into thick biceps and corded forearms, also covered with a light dusting of hair. The detail was so lifelike, she could see the creases of his joints, the smooth surface of his fingernails and the individual hairs on his arm. Every single inch of him was mouth-wateringly sexy. Finally, she looked at his face. The air left her lungs in a rush. She knew him! His face, that cut jaw, the barely there dent in his chin, the high cheekbones and firm mouth. And those eyes—those deep, brooding, bedroom eyes. Even the dark hair waving subtly around his ears. “Ethan.” She ran her fingers over the picture across the line of his jaw. Ethan Jackson was her upstairs neighbor, two flights up and across the hall. He’d only moved in about six months ago. They’d met by the mailboxes and talked a few times in passing. He was a painter, doing quite well for himself at the moment. He was the latest hit on the New 11

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York art scene. He’d been gratifyingly impressed when he’d learned about her art school and her efforts to provide training to talented students who couldn’t afford other institutions. And of course she’d noticed how gorgeous he was. She might be too exhausted to indulge in erotic fantasies, but she’d have to be dead not to notice those sexy, dark eyes and that heart-thumping smile. She touched the picture again, this time running her thumb over his shoulders. She’d had a vague impression of a nice body beneath the real Ethan’s clothes. Would he really look like this? Her gaze dropped to his cock and her fingers followed. If she ran her hands along the length of his erection, would he be as smooth and hot as he looked in this drawing? She shivered a little. She’d love to find out. But every time she met Ethan, she was in such a hurry that they’d never talked for more than five minutes. And she no doubt looked appalling at each meeting. How could she not? She barely had time to brush her teeth. She certainly didn’t bother with makeup or flattering hairstyles. Or even flattering clothes. Cringing, she thought back to the last time they’d met, a week ago. She’d been on her way to the school to take care of some administrative work. She’d been wearing baggy jeans, an oversized sweater that hid most of her figure and clunky shoes that she owned for comfort over fashion. Her hair had been pulled up in a messy bun. Her face was no doubt pale and her eyes smudged with dark circles because she’d managed about two hours of sleep the night before. Ethan probably thought she was a slob. Nice, but not very attractive. If he thought about her at all. And why would he think about her? She was just some frumpy woman in his building. He was a hot, rising artist. No doubt he had women throwing themselves at him, whereas she could barely muster the energy to admire his gorgeousness.

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Sad. Very sad. She fingered the hair of the man in the drawing. At least she had a picture to admire now. Oh, she doubted seriously this was really a picture of Ethan. Just a coincidental similarity. But she could pretend. Wistfully, she flipped the page. And her mouth gaped open. This drawing was of the same man joined by a woman. The woman was on her knees in front of him, her face obscured by dark waves of hair, her lips poised halfway down the man’s cock. She was naked as well, her breasts heavy, her nipples erect. Her back was arched slightly, her ass curving out in a sexy bump. The woman had one hand braced on the man’s thigh, the other cupping his balls. The man’s head was thrown back, revealing the straining tendons of his neck, and his fingers were clenching the woman’s hair. Her heart thumping a little harder than normal, Paige flipped the page again. This drawing showed the woman lying down, her legs spread wide and hanging over the side of an undefined square. Given the detail of the people, she was a little surprised to see the lack of similar detail in the background, but her brain only touched on that oddity before she was studying the people again. The man was between the woman’s legs, on his knees, his tongue stroking her cleft, the tip buried out of sight between her nether lips while his hands gripped her hips. The woman’s hands were on her own breasts, pinching her erect nipples as she stared down the length of her body at the man. He was looking up at her, their gazes locked together. “Very sexy,” Paige breathed, and turned the page again. This drawing showed the woman standing, bent forward, her hands braced against a solid surface that was, again, undefined. The man was behind her, spreading her ass cheeks as his cock slid into her pussy. He was staring down at the point where their bodies joined and she was watching him over her shoulder. The drawing was so superb, Paige could see the flexing of his ass and thighs as he eased into her. The point of view of the drawing was skewed so that she could see the man’s cock stretching the woman’s pussy. She couldn’t see the look in his eyes, but the woman’s eyes were dark,

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her lips parted. And somehow, even with the limits of charcoal pencils, the woman’s mouth looked moist and the man’s cock coated in her juices. Paige studied the face of the woman. She looked vaguely familiar too. The shape of the eyes maybe? The nose? She sucked in a breath when she realized the woman looked vaguely like her. The similarities to herself and Ethan gave the pictures an almost unbearably real edge of eroticism. Would Ethan’s cock stretch her like that? What would his hands feel like squeezing her hips? In the next drawing, the woman was again on her back, her legs in the air and spread wide. The man was settled between her thighs and braced above her, his arms extended their full length so that his biceps flexed. This point of view was looking down the length of the woman’s body, almost as if the viewer were in the position of the woman so that the look on the man’s face, the heat and hunger in his eyes were the focus of the drawing. The bunching muscles of the woman’s belly and the rise of her breasts brought a sense of life to the scene. But it was the view of the man’s cock an inch from being fully embedded in her and the expression on his face that really captured Paige’s attention. She could almost feel the thrust of his cock into her, smell the musky scent of sex and sweat, hear his groans as the heat in his gaze ignited her. She paused when she realized she was breathing hard. She’d grown wet looking at the pictures. She was actually turned on. The thrill of that realization made her laugh. Her panties were damp with her own excitement. She wasn’t frigid! She was still vital and alive. And, she grinned, at the moment she was horny. Since she hadn’t had the energy to be sexually excited in a long time, she reveled in the skitter of heat in her belly and the building tension between her legs. She flicked to the next page. This drawing showed the woman lying on her side, facing the viewer, the man spooned behind her. He had one hand cupping her breast, the other low on her abdomen to pull her hips close to his. She had one leg propped up, revealing the man’s cock just barely entering her. The woman’s head was thrown back against the man’s

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shoulder, her eyes closed. The man’s gaze was focused on the point where their bodies were about to join. The drawing actually showed the tension in his hands as they clenched the woman’s breast and stomach. Such detail. Such artistic skill. And so much erotic power, Paige’s body burned. She was almost afraid to see the next drawing. Yet she couldn’t stop herself from flipping the page. This one looked to be a kind of composite study, showing several angles of the man’s cock penetrating the woman, focusing on the detail in the curve of the woman’s labia and the bulge of the man’s erection. There was a sense of friction in the drawings, as if the artist had been trying to capture the movements of the couple. The next drawing showed the man and woman fully again. This time, the woman was on her hands and knees facing forward, her breasts dangling between her braced arms. The man was behind her, one hand holding her hip, the other clutching her shoulder so that her back arched. Her head was thrown back, her mouth open and her eyes closed. The man’s jaw was clenched and the muscles in his stomach, chest and arms bulged. The intensity of his stare as he watched the area where their bodies joined made Paige’s breath catch. The sound of their groans and the slap of skin against sweatsoaked skin seemed to emanate from the drawing, even though she knew that was impossible. This picture showed less detail of the couple’s naked bodies and yet carried enough passionate resonance to make her own body burn with need. The idea of being fucked that way, of seeing the scene in such striking detail, was beyond exciting. Closing her eyes, Paige leaned back against the couch. Ethan would be strong and commanding in bed. Forceful, but not so rough as to hurt her. He would tell her what he wanted her to do, what position he wanted her in, where he wanted her to touch, what he wanted her to suck. And he would give as good as he took, licking her to orgasm before sliding inside her. Stroking her with the full length of his cock until she came again and again. Bringing her to the brink one last time before finally letting go himself.

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Paige’s fingers moved inside her panties and she stroked herself as she imagined Ethan’s hands on her. She spread her lips and circled her clit, tracing a familiar pattern around the sensitive bud. Her juices soaked her fingertips. But her own touch was secondary to the fantasy in her head. Ethan’s tongue teased her clit with light, tantalizing taps. The heat of his breath drove her insane. His hands clenched her hips, forcing her closer to his mouth. She begged him to fuck her, but he refused to stop the torture. When his tongue pressed deep inside her slit, she cried out, and the pressure built until she thought she would splinter apart. But he wasn’t ready to give her relief yet. He returned to the gentle, taunting licks that wound her tighter and tighter without pushing her over. She pleaded for more, writhing under his onslaught, but received no mercy. Just when she thought she might scream in frustration, he changed tactics, suckling her hard, forcing her to the brink of orgasm. Then he pulled away, and she cried out at the loss. But he didn’t leave her to her torment for long. He slid up her body and braced between her thighs. She looked to where his thick cock poised at her entrance. If she arched her hips even a little, he would be inside her. But she didn’t dare move, afraid he would retreat and never give her what she desperately needed. Finally, he thrust forward, filling her in one hard stroke. His cock was hot and thick, stretching her. She groaned as he pulled back and slammed into her again. No more gentle teasing—now he fucked her hard and fast, a steady pounding that matched the thumping of her heartbeat. The slap of his hips against her overly sensitive clit pushed her beyond control. All her senses centered on that one point in her core squeezing, pulsing, rising to a peak. Her breath caught and her womb tightened. The pressure built. And then the tension broke. Her body convulsed in a spasm that stole her breath and for one instant, sensation was her entire world. Paige opened her eyes and blinked at the Christmas tree lights as her body pulsed. Her hand was coated in her cream. It had been so long since the last time she’d had an orgasm, she’d nearly forgotten how much she loved the feeling. Her body tightening, coiling, then leaping beyond her control for that one long moment of complete mindless satisfaction. As her breathing slowed, she pulled her hand out of her panties and sighed. She was definitely not frigid, or used up, or dry. 16

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She chuckled. At the moment, she was most definitely not dry. A delicious lassitude swept over her, making her eyes droop shut. She felt more relaxed in that instant than she had in months. Her only regret was that the real Ethan wasn’t there to share the yummy afterglow, or to curl up next to her in bed. Setting the book back under the tree, Paige pulled herself to her feet and went to the bathroom to clean up. When she crawled into bed, she fell asleep instantly and didn’t wake up until the sun was high overhead.

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Chapter Two After a solid ten hours of sleep, Paige woke feeling refreshed. Her body still hummed from the erotic fantasies brought on by the drawings in that amazing book. She was so happy to know she could have erotic thoughts again, she whistled a Christmas song as she climbed into the shower. Because she was feeling almost human, sexy and feminine again, she shaved her legs. When she got out of the shower, she scrubbed her face, then took the time to tone and moisturize. Looking in the mirror, she was thrilled to see the purple smudges under her eyes had faded to a light lavender instead of the bruised plum they’d been the night before. She indulged in rubbing vanilla-scented lotion all over her body and dressed in red silk panties and bra. She glanced in the mirror and giggled. She actually looked like a woman again. A sexy woman. Shaking her head, she pulled on her jeans and a fitted, cranberry-colored sweater. It was amazing what one good orgasm could do for a woman. As she headed to the kitchen to make coffee, she paused and stared at her Christmas tree and the leather-bound book lying beneath it. She was tempted to flip through to make sure she hadn’t imagined those drawings. Something about the latenight fantasies seemed so unreal and dreamlike. Maybe after a cup of coffee she’d face the book again. She had just turned on the coffee machine when a strange scratching noise caught her attention. The disturbance came from her front door and sounded like nails scraping the wood. Curious, she went to the peephole and looked out. She couldn’t see anyone in the corridor, but the scratching got louder. God, she hoped it wasn’t a rat. Holding her breath, she eased the door open, leaving the chain on the latch just in case.

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A streak of white brushed past her leg, making her squeal and jump back from the door. She spun toward her living room, expecting to see the biggest rat ever. Instead, she saw a cat. A fat, fluffy, white cat. The animal had landed on her couch and was staring at her around the armrest. Paige tilted her head to one side. The cat blinked slowly. It had two different-colored eyes, one blue and one green. There was no other color in the pristine white of its fur. As they stared at each other, the cat began to purr. Paige smiled crookedly. “Well. Who do you belong to?” “Me.” She spun around to face the newcomer. Ethan looked in over the top of the security chain, an embarrassed smile curving those delicious lips. For about three beats, Paige couldn’t form a coherent thought. She blinked, barely believing the man she’d been fantasizing about just the night before was standing at her door. As the silence stretched, Ethan raised his brows. “Paige? You okay?” His question snapped her out of her daze. “Fine. Sorry. I was just surprised to… Just a second.” She pushed the door closed, released the chain and opened it again. “You have a cat?” He grinned, and Paige felt her coherent thoughts fleeing again. He looked so utterly charming. She was sure he’d grinned at her before. They’d laughed once or twice during their brief, passing conversations. She had to have seen that grin before this moment. But it had never triggered such a visceral reaction. Her heart thumped and her stomach danced. Her libido sat up and said, Yum. “That rotten animal was a Christmas present from my aunt,” he said. She had to roll back the last few moments in her mind before she could remember that she’d asked him a question. “Did you want a cat?” “No. But Aunt Jilly seemed to think I needed one. I’m not sure why. She thinks I spend too much time alone.”

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“Do you?” “Only when I’m working.” He smiled again. “Otherwise, I like company.” Yeah, me, too. So long as you’re the company. “How did the cat get out?” “I opened the door to collect the newspaper and she sprinted past. I’ve been hunting for her all over the building. She’s too spoiled to actually run outside, but she stayed hidden up until now. The only reason I tracked her here was because I heard you scream.” Paige felt her cheeks heating, embarrassed to be caught squealing in surprise over a cat. “I thought she was a giant rat.” He threw his head back and laughed. “I’m sure she would just love knowing someone confused her for a rat. That is one arrogant feline.” Paige had to smile. His laugh was infectious. And probably the sexiest sound she’d ever heard. Although the sound of skin slapping against skin as he fucked her would be sexier… She shook her head and blinked rapidly, hoping he wouldn’t notice the new color no doubt rising in her cheeks. To her surprise, Ethan reached out and ran a finger across her jaw. She sucked in a breath as a jolt of fire roared through her at the brief contact. “You’re looking very good this afternoon, Paige.” “Thanks,” she breathed, barely able to think beyond the fact that Ethan had just complimented her. “Well rested. The circles under your eyes are less pronounced.” Like a bucket of cold water, his comment brought her back to earth. He didn’t think she looked attractive. He thought she looked less haggard. “I finally got more than a few hours sleep last night. I’m on a two week holiday. From everything.” His lips lifted in the faintest of smiles. “I hope not everything.” He held her gaze for a long moment, the look in his eyes making her pulse race again. Her mouth was so dry she could barely swallow. Then his gaze shifted to the cat.

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“I suppose I should try to dislodge her from your couch.” “Oh! Right. Sorry. Come in.” She stepped back to let him pass, but he paused on the threshold and glanced up. “Mistletoe?” He raised a brow and that faint smile touched his tempting mouth again. Paige followed his gaze. A little sprig of the holiday weed hung down past her doorframe, just in view from where she stood. “How…?” Frowning, she stepped forward to get a closer look. Someone must have pinned the mistletoe to the outside of her door. She hadn’t hung it. Then Ethan’s scent washed over her, and she realized she’d made a mistake moving so close to him. Her heartbeat thumped and a skitter of desire tightened her belly. Because she couldn’t help it, she leaned closer and took a deep breath. God, he smelled good. So yummy she wanted to bury her nose in his neck and breathe him in for hours. She blinked and glanced up. He was staring at her, his dark eyes nearly black, his expression very serious. “You didn’t hang that, did you?” she asked, then licked her dry lips. He shook his head. “You didn’t either?” “Must have been my friend, Viola.” “Viola sounds like a smart lady. Mistletoe is one of my favorite Christmas traditions.” She nodded, at a complete loss for words. Ethan was standing so close she could feel his body heat. Her head spun from the fantasies she’d indulged in the night before. And the look in his eyes was making her pulse pound. The moment felt almost unreal. They’d barely talked before this. But she was having a hard time remembering that they didn’t know each other well. In that instant, she wanted his mouth on hers more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.

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“I’d hate to ignore a good Christmas tradition,” he murmured and lowered his head. The brush of his perfectly sculpted lips against hers was soft at first, almost tentative. She savored the brief contact, both thrilled and amazed to realize so simple a touch could spark such a serious degree of lust. Without thought, she angled her head just enough to mold her mouth more firmly to his. His lips moved and a small sigh of pleasure escaped her. In a heartbeat, his arms were around her and his mouth was hard and demanding against hers. He parted her lips with his tongue and plunged in. The change was so sudden, Paige sucked in a breath. Then she buried her fingers in the front of his shirt, rose on her toes and answered his demand. The taste of him flooded her senses, better than any fantasy she could have concocted. She hadn’t thought what it would be like to kiss him, to taste his mouth, to duel with his tongue. The feeling was overwhelming. His arms around her waist pulled her so close her breasts flattened against the solid wall of his chest, and she wanted to rub against him like she was the cat. Images from her fantasy the night before flashed behind her closed eyes. The sight of him naked, the feel of his hands on her breasts, her stomach, the press of his erection against her thigh. She wanted to pull his shirt over his head and run her lips across the heat of his flesh. When she flexed her fingers, preparing to remove his clothing, the reality of what she was doing hit her. This was no fantasy. This was real life. She eased back from the kiss reluctantly. The last thing she wanted to do was terrify Ethan by devouring him like a ravenous animal. Even if she felt like a starving woman who’d just been given her first whiff of food in months. Her cheeks heated as she stepped away from the temptation of his body. She took a deep breath but still couldn’t quite meet his gaze. She wanted to touch him again and knew he would see the desire in her eyes. More than the heat of the kiss itself, she was embarrassed that she’d made her desperation so obvious.

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“Um, that was…” A finger dropped across her lips, silencing her. She glanced up. Ethan smiled. “Merry Christmas,” he murmured. His finger moved from her lips to her cheek and caressed a small line up and down her jaw. He didn’t look the least bit embarrassed or shocked by her reaction. That was good. She hadn’t made such of a fool of herself that he wanted to run away as fast as his legs would carry him. She licked her lips and nodded for him to come inside. “Coffee smells good,” he commented as he walked the short distance to her couch and his lounging cat. “Would you like some? I just made a pot.” And had been too flustered by his presence to think about manners. He grinned over his shoulder. “I’d love some. Thanks.” She pressed a hand to her cheek as she headed into the kitchen. Her pulse still pounded. Having Ethan in her apartment was not calming or restful. He wasn’t even in the same room, yet she could feel his presence. Her stomach danced as she took two mugs out of the cabinet. Her panties were damp after a single kiss! The part of her that had been afraid of being dried up and frigid was thrilled by the obvious signs of sexual awareness. She was most definitely not frigid. Unfortunately, her newfound lust was helping her make a complete fool of herself in front of the man who’d reignited that lust. “I take it black,” Ethan said from the doorway. Paige jumped and bit back a yelp. “Sorry.” He grinned and sauntered into the kitchen. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” She smiled back. “Guess I’m not used to having people in my apartment.” She chuckled as she poured coffee. “Actually, I’m not used to being in my apartment.” She handed him a mug. “Too busy?”

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“Unfortunately.” “How’s the school working out?” “Great. I just need forty-eight hour days.” “You’re still working the accounting job?” He sipped his coffee but kept his gaze on her face. “Again, unfortunately. I’d love to concentrate on the school, but money is just too tight. I can barely cover the school’s expenses. There’s no way I can afford to pay myself a salary yet. And my landlord likes it when I pay the rent. Good thing for rent control too, or I wouldn’t be able to afford this place anymore.” He chuckled. “No luck with any of the grant applications, I take it?” “A few possibilities, but nothing yet. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep up this schedule.” “I’m glad you’re taking some time off. Refresh your energies.” You could definitely refresh some of my energies. She glanced down into her mug to keep him from seeing that thought reflected in her expression. “So you had a gallery opening recently?” she said to change the subject. “Last week.” When he didn’t expand on the subject, she smiled and said, “How did it go? So bad you don’t want to talk about it?” He laughed. “No. It went really well. I’ve got plenty of work to keep me busy for the next few months.” “That’s good though, right?” Shrugging, he said, “For my bank account, yes. It means I might have trouble making good on my offer to teach a class at your school, though.” She waved away his concern. Although having him give a lecture next term would be a great boon to the respectability of her school, she’d assumed his offer was made

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more out of friendliness than any serious intent. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t expect you to take time away from your own work to help my school.” “But I want to. I think your school is a great idea. I want to support it any way I can. Don’t worry, I’ll work something out. Probably only be able to give one class a week, but I still want to do something this term.” “That’s very nice of you.” She smiled. The fact that his teaching, even one day a week, would mean they’d see more of each other made her stomach dance again. In the closeness of her small kitchen, his scent reached out to her and mixed with the smell of freshly brewed coffee. She could get used to this—having him in her kitchen, drinking coffee and talking about their work. If she had more time to dedicate to a relationship, maybe she could pursue this. But it sounded like he’d be as busy as she come the New Year. “Guess neither one of us will have much free time after the holidays,” she said as she dropped her gaze to the kitchen floor. “I’m hoping to find a few free moments.” The deep, quiet huskiness of his voice danced down her spine, making her shiver. She was sure he wasn’t implying what she wanted him to, but the thought of what the two of them might do in “a few free moments” left her breathless. There was a supply closet at the school, just big enough to accommodate two people. They could sneak away after his class, blocking the door so no random student opened it. He would turn her so that she braced her hands against one of the metal shelves, then lift her skirt and pull down her panties just far enough to give him access. She would be wet and ready when he thrust the full length of his cock hard into her from behind. No preliminaries, no teasing. They’d be too wild and needy. Waiting to be alone would have been tease enough, knowing he’d be fucking her soon. She’d have to bite her lip to keep from screaming at the feel of him stroking inside her. His movements would be slow, hard, steady, forcing her closer and closer to losing control. She’d be desperate to stay quiet so the students in the hall didn’t hear them. He’d lean

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forward and whisper in her ear, telling her how good she felt, how tight and wet, how hot she was wrapped around his cock. Paige sucked in a deep breath and held it. The fantasy was so clear, so detailed and so immediate she could already feel her body tightening toward orgasm. She took a gulp of coffee. God, if Ethan knew what she was thinking at that moment, he’d probably drop his mug and run. She glanced up over her cup, half afraid to see his expression, worried he’d know what she’d been thinking. He had that slight, sexy smile tweaking his mouth and his gaze was steady on her face. There was no hiding from those eyes, she thought, embarrassed all over again. If he didn’t know exactly what she’d been thinking, he sure as hell suspected. But he wasn’t running away. He hadn’t even put down his mug. That was something, at least. Because the silence was stretching out too long and making Paige want to squirm, she said, “Did the cat relinquish her position on the couch?” He cringed and glanced at the cabinets that lined the wall connecting her little kitchen to the living room. “She hissed at me and dove under the couch. I’m not sure she’s ready to leave yet.” “She hissed at you? That can’t be good. Did she swat at you too?” “Oh, she won’t hurt me. She was just making a point. But it may take some coaxing to get her out of here. I hope you’re not allergic to cats.” “No, I love them. Why don’t I see if she’ll let me get near her?” “Be my guest. Do you mind if I pour another cup of coffee? This is great.” She grinned. “Help yourself.” She set her own mug in the sink and headed toward the doorway. But Ethan stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. He nodded up at the top of the kitchen doorframe. “Looks like your friend Viola wasn’t taking any chances with the mistletoe.”

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She frowned at the second sprig of greenery. “When did she have time to do this? She was only here for twenty minutes last night.” “And you didn’t notice?” Paige shook her head. “I guess I don’t look up very often, but still…” “Well, we can’t ignore it. If you don’t kiss under the mistletoe, you might end up with bad luck in the New Year.” Her breath caught when he set his mug down and closed the distance between them. “I’ve never heard that before.” Her voice sounded pathetically soft and a little too desperate. “I think you’re making that up.” “I might be. But it’s a good excuse.” There was no hesitance in his kiss this time. He settled his mouth over hers firmly, masterfully, and demanded an immediate response. She complied without thought, opening her lips and sucking in his tongue eagerly. The taste of rich roast coffee flavored his mouth, and his scent enveloped her. Unable to resist, she pressed herself against him, savoring the feel of hard muscle against soft flesh. Oh, to be naked right now! She wanted the heat of his skin against her own overheated body. The warmth of her sweater, comfortable just after her shower, was now oppressive. She wanted to rip the material off, freeing herself of the encumbrance. Ethan’s hands moved from her shoulders to her waist, gripping the top of her jeans, his fingers tugging at two of the belt loops as if he wanted to jerk the material lower. She nearly told him to do just that. Her heartbeat thudded hard. She could barely think around the raging pulse of her desire. And she didn’t want to think. She wanted to feel, to savor, to soak up the fire and taste of him. He pulled her hips closer to his, pressing her so tight she couldn’t mistake the bulge in his jeans. Knowing his cock was already hard, that he wanted her as much as she wanted him in that moment made her head spin. A part of her brain, the part that carefully planned and rarely dove into anything without thought, knew she should stop this. They didn’t know each other well enough. 27

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They’d never even been out on a date. Until this moment, she hadn’t known he was attracted to her. He might just be looking for an easy lay. He no doubt had plenty of eager women desperate to get a piece of him. She couldn’t possibly be unique or special. But damn it all, she wanted him. She wanted the heat, the lust, the hard, skinslapping feel of sex with a man who made her lose her mind. She wanted to reaffirm her existence, her sex appeal. She wanted to feel like a woman and not a workaholic again! She whimpered quietly when Ethan lifted his mouth away from hers. If he stopped kissing her, she would start to think again, letting logic overwhelm her baser instincts. He settled his forehead against hers and took a deep breath, letting it out on a whoosh. “Who knew mistletoe could be so dangerous?” She closed her eyes and sighed. He was right. This was dangerous. And stupid. She untangled herself from his grip and headed toward the living room. “I’ll go see if I can get the cat.” Dropping down onto her knees in front of the couch, she dipped low to peek under. Two different-colored eyes blinked at her from the darkness. She reached forward, but the cat was too far away to grab. “Here kitty, kitty, kitty. Come here. You don’t want to stay under the sofa all day. It’s dirty. I never vacuum under there. Come on, kitty. Don’t you want to go home with your new daddy?” Paige sure as hell did. If she was Ethan’s cat, she’d curl up in his lap and live there. The thought of him stroking her caused a little tremor to race over her skin. “Paige?” The sound of his voice made her gasp. But she kept her head hidden under the couch so she wouldn’t have to look at how deliciously gorgeous he was. A woman couldn’t be expected to resist temptation indefinitely. She had to get him and his cat out of here before she jumped him.

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“She’s being stubborn,” Paige said as she swiped at the cat in a vain attempt to grab hold of her leg. Her efforts received a quiet growl from the animal. “Don’t take that tone with me, missy,” she said to the unblinking, multicolored eyes. “I’m not the one invading someone else’s house.” “Maybe if we lure her out with a treat?” Ethan suggested. “Do you have any tuna fish?” Paige rose to a sitting position and glanced over her shoulder in time to catch Ethan’s gaze rising from a study of her ass. She tried giving him a quelling look but was afraid only her desire showed. The fact that Ethan had been studying her ass turned her on almost as much as his kisses. He smiled, not looking even a little guilty. “I don’t have any tuna,” she said, too flustered to say anything else. “What other treats does she like?” Ethan reached out a hand and helped her to her feet. But before she could catch her balance, he pulled her flush against his body. With his free hand, he held a bundle of mistletoe over their heads. “I don’t know about her,” he said. “But I liked what we were doing in the kitchen.” And he kissed her again.

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Chapter Three Paige barely hesitated before returning Ethan’s kiss. This treat would definitely lure her out from under the couch. His lips played havoc with her logic again, sinking rational thought deeper and deeper beneath desire. Her logical self thought she should probably protest this treatment. At the very least she should put up more of a fight. Did she want Ethan thinking she was easy or fell into bed with whatever man knocked on her door? Did she care what he thought? She had to admit that she did on some level. She liked him. She would have liked a chance at something more than casual sex. He was the kind of man she could picture herself falling in love with. But she found it hard to worry about his impression of her tomorrow when today he was driving her insane with a mouth that should come with a warning label. She dropped her head back when his lips moved to her neck and he nibbled a line of fire across her pulse. His hands clenched at the top of her jeans again and the mistletoe dropped to the ground, forgotten. When his fingers inched up under her sweater to caress the bare skin of her sensitive waist, Paige moaned. With that touch, she forgot about logic and reason. They were both grownups. She wanted him. He wanted her. Tomorrow would take care of itself. And if he walked away after this one night—or afternoon, as it happened—and considered it no more than a casual lay? She might be hurt, but she was going to be so busy come January, she’d be able to avoid seeing him again. And she’d have one hell of an afternoon of sex to feed her fantasies for months to come. She needed this. She needed to feel passionate and wild again. And she needed Ethan.

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As logic’s voice faded to nothingness, she pulled at Ethan’s shirt, tugging buttons her shaking fingers were too clumsy to unhook. He stilled her hands, took a half step away and pulled the shirt over his head without bothering to unbutton it. Paige sucked in a breath. Detailed and exquisite as the drawings had been, they couldn’t hold a candle to the magnificence of the real Ethan’s naked torso. She closed the distance and ran her hands along the muscles of his chest, caressing his flat nipples until they pebbled under her fingers. Unable to resist, she licked one nipple, tugging gently with her teeth as Ethan buried his hands in her hair. An instant later, he jerked her sweater over her head, in such a rush to remove the clothing she was sure the poor sweater would never be the same. When his gaze dropped to her breasts and he groaned, she smiled. “I can’t believe you’re wearing a red bra,” he said, his voice deep and husky. “Red is my favorite color. And you look spectacular.” He pulled her close again. “If you tell me you’re wearing matching panties, I might just come in my jeans.” She grinned and rubbed the palm of her hand over the bulge of his erection. “Then we should probably get you out of your jeans before I tell you I’m wearing matching red panties.” “Fuck.” He dropped his head back and moaned as she continued to caress his cock through the barrier of the jeans. “I should tell you.” He swallowed and met her gaze again. “I’m not wearing underwear and the feel of you rubbing the denim against my cock is driving me insane.” “Good. Why aren’t you wearing underwear?” “No time to do laundry in the last few weeks,” he croaked. His breathing was coming faster, and Paige feared he might actually lose control if she continued her teasing. So she set to work unbuttoning his jeans. “You could just take a bag of laundry up the street to the dry cleaners and have them wash it for you.” “Don’t like strangers doing my laundry. I’ll just go buy more underwear.”

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She chuckled. “You’d buy more underwear before paying a stranger to wash the underwear you have? You are such a male.” “Baby, in about two seconds you’re going to find out just how male I am.” He finished unbuttoning his own jeans and his cock sprang free of the confining material. Paige studied the full, thick shape of him and licked her lips. Again, the pictures in the book hadn’t done the real Ethan justice. She took him in her hand and caressed his heated flesh, so hot and hard and smooth all at once. She fingered the head of his penis as a drop of liquid seeped out and rubbed the moisture around the hood. Ethan took hold of her wrist and stilled her exploration. “Out of those jeans. Now.” She complied with a smile. God, he made her feel sexy. And alive. She shucked off her pants and stood before him in her matching red panties and bra, feeling like the most desirable woman on the planet. As his gaze drank in her nearly naked form, another wash of wetness rushed between her legs. He could plunge into her now and she’d take him easily. He continued to stare at her as he removed his shoes, socks and jeans. And then he stood fully naked before her. For an instant, Paige forgot to breathe. The way he was standing—his cock hard, his legs braced, his eyes dark, his expression serious and intent—he looked exactly like the first drawing in the book. Only better. In living flesh, there was nothing that could compare to the sheer male beauty of Ethan Jackson. “Bedroom,” he said, an order more than a question. She took his hand and walked him to her room, to her bed. But she couldn’t take her gaze off him. And the way he studied her as she moved made her breathing ragged. At the side of her bed, he took hold of her shoulders and fingered the straps of her bra, holding her gaze to his. “I love this,” he said. “But it has to go now.” He dropped the straps over her shoulders and pulled the material down until her breasts sprang free. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured as he cupped her and gently pinched her nipples. “I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you.” 32

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“You have?” She thought back on that first meeting. She’d looked a wreck. And no doubt as haggard as she’d looked last night. Why on earth would he have wanted her? “I’ve been fantasizing about you for six months.” His palms slid down her ribs to her waist, and she squirmed under the exquisite feeling. Her waist was very sensitive—one of her more susceptible erogenous zones. He caught her gaze when she sucked in her breath at his touch, then he smiled. “I’ve even knocked on your door several times in the last few months, hoping I could talk you into having a drink with me.” “Really?” He nodded as he skimmed his fingers along her ribs again. Paige moaned and shivered. She was going to come just from him caressing her sides. “You were never home,” he said. “And every time I caught you in the hall, you were rushing in or out.” “I never guessed,” she panted, closing her eyes as sensation swamped her. “I didn’t realize you… You thought of me as anything but the frumpy neighbor.” “Frumpy?” He chuckled and gripped her ass cheeks in both hands. “There is not an ounce of you I’d consider frumpy.” His fingers dipped beneath her panties and pulled the material down her hips until her bottom was bare, but he left the underwear around the top of her legs so she couldn’t part them. Then his palms found her butt cheeks again and pulled her hips flush against his. “Now that I have more than five minutes of your time,” he murmured as his fingers brushed between her cheeks, “I intend to take advantage of the situation.” “Oh good,” she breathed. “I was afraid you might leave.” He let loose a deep, booming laugh and dropped his mouth to hers again. She felt drunk with pleasure and more out of control than she’d ever been with a man before. She rubbed her hips against his erection, desperate to feel the thick length

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of him impaling her. From the wetness dampening her stomach, he was more than ready. But just in case she only had this one time with him, if he decided this was all he wanted from her, she needed it to last. She intended to take advantage of the situation, too—to taste him and memorize the feel of him. Pulling her mouth away from his, she dropped to her knees and took the tip of his cock into her mouth before he could object. “Paige!” The strain in his voice sent a thrill of excitement through her belly. Nothing made a woman feel more powerful, more sexy and feminine than having a man like Ethan at her mercy. She slid her lips down the full length of his erection, trailing her tongue across the underside of his cock as she did so. His moan urged her on. Her head bobbed over him as she savored and teased. He was so hot and thick. She flicked her tongue against the rim of the hood, then took him fully into her mouth again. Heat flooded between her thighs when his hips jerked forward, pushing his cock to the back of her throat. His deteriorating control pushed her own excitement higher. She relaxed her muscles so she could take his full length and let him pump into her mouth once, twice. Then she took back control, sucking hard as she moved up to his tip. Cupping his balls in one palm, she kneaded his tight ass with the other. His tense muscles strained against her touch and the fingers he buried in her hair tightened to the point of near-pain. She felt him begin to tremble just before he pulled her mouth away from his cock. “You can do more of that next time,” he said. He pulled her to her feet and turned her around so that she was bent over the edge of the bed. “Brace your hands on the mattress.” She did as commanded and said, “Next time?” “Definitely. And if you enjoy sucking my cock, you’re welcome to do it again the time after that. But right now, I need to be inside you.” His grip tightened on her hips. “Condoms?” A shock of frustration rushed through her. She hadn’t needed condoms in ages. 34

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Then Ethan said, “I see them,” and moved to her dresser where a very obvious box of condoms sat. “Where did those come from?” She’d swear those hadn’t been there when she woke that afternoon. They hadn’t been there the night before either. Had they? He pulled out a foil packet and tore it open. “Viola again?” “I guess.” But if her friend was responsible, why hadn’t she noticed the box before now? Then Ethan moved behind her again and she forgot to worry about the mysterious box. “I’ll have to thank Viola when I meet her,” he murmured. “Saved me a very untimely trip upstairs.” She felt him nudge her opening with his penis, coating the head in her moisture. Her panties still constricted her legs so that she couldn’t open any wider to him, but as he eased just an inch into her, she realized the restriction made her passage tighter. Already tight from lack of sex in the last year, she felt every inch of his thick cock as he eased into her. She closed her eyes to savor the sensation of being stretched and filled so completely. The slow friction of his penetration had her muscles constricting, further heightening her pleasure. “Ethan, you feel so good,” she groaned. In a sudden movement that made her gasp, he slammed the rest of the way inside of her, gripping her hips tight enough to leave marks. She moaned and dropped her head back. He felt perfect—better than she thought possible. She had a flash of one of the pictures in the book of the man taking the woman from behind. She had imagined how that might feel—Ethan fucking her just that way. But her imagination had let her down. She couldn’t have guessed how wonderful the reality of having his thick cock inside her would be. He began to stroke slow and steady, in and out. “I’m going to fuck you hard and slow, Paige. I’m going to drag this out as long as you can stand it.”

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His words made her body jerk. She was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to stand this sensation for very long. His pace was even, steady, slow. When he slid fully into her, their skin slapped together wetly. She squirmed and moaned, urging him to move faster, but he kept up his steady rhythm, never slowing, never speeding up. And it felt exquisite. She wanted him fucking her this way, driving her crazy with a rhythm that drew out her pleasure and spun her inevitably to the edge. Arching her back, she balanced on one hand and fingered her clit with the other. “That’s it. I want you to come for me. I want to feel you come while you’re squeezed so tight around my cock.” He slammed his hips against her ass, driving his cock hard into her and making her breasts bounce. The sensation made her feel wild and desperate. She circled her clit faster, knowing her orgasm was close. But he continued to move at his slow, steady pace, his hands on her hips holding her firmly, preventing her from rushing his movements. Then he stroked one of his hands in a slow, deliberate caress up her waist and Paige lost complete control. “Ethan!” Her body jerked against his as she came. The sensation continued longer than any orgasm she’d had before, making that blissful instant feel like a lifetime. Then she dropped to the mattress, her face pressed against the blanket as her breathing sobbed out in ragged pants. Her body trembled and her knees wobbled in the aftermath. He paused long enough for her to settle, then thrust into her again. She arched her back, her body so sensitive she could feel every inch of him as he moved. This time he stroked faster, harder, and she felt the pulse of his cock as his orgasm took him. She smiled when she heard him groan her name. They stayed as they were for a long minute, Ethan still moving gently inside her, drawing out the last of his orgasm. Then he pulled free, wrapped an arm around her waist and eased her into a standing position. Still behind her, he hugged her close, his 36

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forehead dropping to her shoulder. She reached back and ran her fingers through his hair. The movement tightened her bra straps across her biceps and tugged at the material still bunched under her breasts. She grinned at the reminder that she’d never gotten her underwear fully off. In that quiet moment, Paige felt such perfect contentment, she never wanted the feeling to end. “You said something about next time?” she murmured, not sure if she was ready to hear his explanation but too tired and sated to avoid asking the one thing she really wanted to know. He kissed her shoulder but didn’t lift his head. “You’ll have to give me a half hour first. After that orgasm, maybe an hour. Then we can work on the next time.” She grinned and dropped her head against his shoulder. She could wait a half hour. Maybe.

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Chapter Four Paige finally slipped out of her remaining clothing while Ethan disposed of the condom and cleaned up. Then they crawled onto the bed and snoozed in each other’s arms for a while. She forgot to look at the clock and didn’t care what time it was anyway. She hadn’t felt this free and relaxed in years, and she wasn’t about to rush him out of her apartment if he wasn’t in a hurry to leave. She woke from dozing to find Ethan studying her. When she met his gaze and raised a brow in silent question, he smiled, leaned close and kissed her. He shifted so that his body was over hers, then began to kiss his way down her neck. She sighed happily, tilting her head to one side as he licked the skin over her pulse. His teeth grazed her collarbone as he cupped one breast in his warm palm. Then he dropped his mouth lower, taking her nipple between his lips. He suckled at one breast while gently pinching the nipple of the other between his finger and thumb. The lap of his tongue against the still-sensitive skin forced a quiet moan from her. “You like my mouth on your breasts?” he asked before sucking again, harder this time. “Yes.” He shifted and moved lower, running his tongue across the arch of her ribcage. Paige squirmed and her hands fisted in the blanket as his mouth moved over her side. “You’re very sensitive here,” he commented. “I wonder—could I make you come just by kissing your waist and stomach?” She groaned. “Maybe. No one’s ever done it before, but…” She swallowed. “But you probably could.”

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His chuckle vibrated along her skin. “You can’t guess how sexy I find that.” He licked a bead of sweat from under her breast, then nibbled the skin of her waist again. “But I think I’ll try that next time. This time, I want to taste you when you come.” Without another word, he settled himself between her spread thighs. The first gentle touch of his tongue against her already wet cleft made her hips jerk. “Yum,” he murmured, then licked the full length of her slit in one firm, steady stroke. “Ethan.” She breathed his name as her body trembled. Had she ever felt this good before? Had any man’s mouth made her lose her mind so quickly? He licked and sucked her to mindless pleasure, tonguing her clit until she arched up on the bed, screaming against the force of sensation, and came in his mouth just as he’d wanted. She was still pulsing when she heard the rip of a foil packet. Then he moved up her body and drove into her, his cock hot and hard inside her. He angled her hips and thrust against a spot that had her coming again within minutes. “Again,” he ordered, pounding that same spot. She clenched her teeth, every beat of his hips against hers tearing through her, creating so much tension she could barely breathe. Too much. But she didn’t want him to stop. “Harder,” she panted. “Please. Fuck me harder.” “Yes.” His hips bucked and sweat dripped from his body to hers, adding to the slick heat. He took one of her legs and braced it over his shoulder, tightening her passage. She pressed her head into the mattress, pushing at his shoulders as the new position hammered another wave of spiraling sensation through her. She tried to hold back, to drag out this next orgasm, but he was relentless. “Come,” he said. “Scream when you come.”

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He traced one finger down her side and Paige thrashed against the touch, trying to move away. But he held her firm, and ran his fingertip up her side as he fucked her even harder. The second stroke was more than she could take. She came with another scream, forced out through her clenched teeth. He dropped her leg from his shoulder and covered her, burying his face in her hair as he strove for his own pleasure. Too spent to help much, she hugged his shoulders and whispered in his ear, “Come for me now, Ethan.” She swiped her tongue against his earlobe. “You feel so thick and hot, so good. I want to feel you pulsing. Now, Ethan.” She nibbled the skin over his pulse, biting gently then blowing warm air over the slight sting. He arched back, his arms extended, his neck muscles straining, his eyes closed. One beat, two, and his body jerked as he came. He settled heavily on top of her when it was over and nuzzled her neck. The gesture made her smile. When she could breathe evenly again, she said, “I think I need a drink of water before we explore another next time.” He chuckled and hugged her. “Deal. I could use some food too.” He balanced above her on his forearms and grinned. “Someone distracted me from lunch.” “You think she ever crawled out from under the couch?” His laughter boomed through the bedroom an instant before he kissed her. “Come on.” He patted her hip and rolled out of bed. “Let’s go renew our energy before I get carried away.” Paige watched him walk out of the bedroom, admiring the view of a perfect male ass before she eased out of bed and slipped into a robe. Her muscles were sore from the unusual activity. She wondered if she’d have the chance to get used to this feeling. Or was this one afternoon all he was looking for? He seemed to want more. At least more sex. And she could hardly argue against that since she wanted more sex too. The point was moot, though. Soon she’d be back to working hundred-hour weeks. He’d be busy with his new commissions. Why would he want to go to all the trouble of

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squeezing in time between their busy schedules? From her experience, most men didn’t want to put that much effort into a relationship—any kind of relationship. She left the bedroom and watched him walk out of her bathroom, still magnificently naked. Hmm. She did have two weeks before her days filled up with work again. Maybe during that time, she could convince him he wanted to make the effort at a relationship. Smiling, she kissed him on the cheek and started past him to the bathroom. “What do you want for dinner?” he asked, holding her hand to keep her in place. “Why don’t we order in? I don’t feel like getting dressed just yet.” “Good, because I like keeping you naked. How about pizza? Lots of energy in pizza. And you’re going to need a lot of energy later.” A delighted little tingle danced through her belly. “Pizza is great. There’s a menu by the phone in the kitchen.” She turned in to the bathroom as he went to order food. “What do you like on your pizza?” he called back over his shoulder. “Mushrooms and pepperoni.” “I knew we were perfect for each other. Mushrooms and pepperoni it is.” Her heartbeat tripped at his comment. He thought they were perfect for each other? She closed the door and took a steadying breath. Maybe convincing him to stick around wouldn’t be so hard after all. By the time she finished cleaning up, Ethan was sitting on her couch, flicking through one of her art books. He’d slipped into his jeans, unfortunately, but had left his shirt off, so she still had the pleasure of enjoying the sight of his bare chest. “Food’s on the way,” he said. He glanced up and paused, staring for several moments without talking. “What?” she asked, fidgeting with the robe’s belt. “You look so beautiful just like you are now with your hair mussed and your face flushed.” Heat crawled up her cheeks. “Oh. Thanks.” 41

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“You look relaxed and sated. Makes a man feel good to know he’s helped put that expression on his woman’s face.” His woman? Her pulse raced. She didn’t know how to respond to that without sounding flippant or dismissive. She wanted to be his woman, more than she ever expected. She wanted Ethan in her life for longer than just a few days. And she wanted him there for more than just sex. He wasn’t talking like this was a one-time occurrence. But she didn’t want to rush him into anything as scary as the relationship discussion. They still had their busy schedules to deal with. She had two weeks to convince him he wanted to spend more time with her. A woman could do a lot of convincing in two weeks. “One of these days, I’ll have to get you to model for me,” he said. “I’m flattered,” she said as she sat next to him on the couch. “One of New York’s up-and-comings wanting to use me in a painting? Every woman in the city will be jealous.” “The paintings I have in mind will be strictly for us. No one else will ever see them.” “What do you have in mind?” He grinned. His wicked expression made her think of the pictures in the book still sitting under her tree. She glanced toward it, wondering if she should tell him about those drawings. He’d probably be as surprised by the similarities as she’d been. But he distracted her from thoughts of the book when he took her hand between his. “I want to tell you something…” Paige’s stomach flipped. Here it was. The rub. The catch. “I didn’t want you to think I was interfering in something that wasn’t my business, so I haven’t brought this up before now.”

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She swallowed. This didn’t sound good, but she couldn’t imagine what he was talking about. “Last week, at the gallery displaying my latest work, I met a man. He’s a rich philanthropist whose big thing is supporting worthy artists and artistic endeavors. His name is Arthur Van Heisen.” Paige raised her brows. “I’ve heard of him. Very influential. He throws a lot of money at the art community. Is he going to act as your patron?” Ethan shook his head. “We didn’t talk long about my work.” He took a deep breath and held her gaze. “I told him about your school.” She straightened. “You did?” “I wasn’t trying to step on your toes or anything,” he said hurriedly. “I think what you’re trying to do with the school is wonderful, and as you said, he’s very influential.” “Why would you think you were stepping on my toes by mentioning my school to Arthur Van Heisen?” He glanced away for a beat before meeting her gaze again. “I’ve had trouble with this kind of thing in the past, trying to help a friend with his pet project. He thought I was taking over, that I didn’t believe he could get anywhere without my help. We haven’t spoken in two years. It’s made me a little gun-shy about getting involved with other people’s work.” He squeezed her hand. “And I’m hoping to spend the next two weeks convincing you to keep me in your life. I didn’t want to chase you away by pissing you off.” “Your friend sounds like an idiot,” she said, trying very hard not to jump up and down and hug him in delight. He’d just admitted he wanted to see her after her holiday was over. The thought of that was so dizzying, she almost forgot he’d given her a glimmer of hope for her school too. “What did Mr. Van Heisen say?” “He likes the idea of your school. I have his card upstairs. He wants you to give him a call and meet to discuss your business plan. No guarantees. You’ll probably have to go through weeks or months of meetings and convince several boards of lawyers, 43

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accountants and executives that your school can work before anything happens. But he’s willing to meet with you. And if you can convince Arthur you know what you’re doing, his approval can go a long way toward getting your school some additional funding. He’s got a lot of connections beyond his own charitable interests.” “Are you serious? Arthur Van Heisen wants to meet with me?” “You’re not mad?” “Why the hell would I be mad?” She couldn’t contain herself any longer. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. “Ethan! You’ve given me a chance to meet with one of the most influential money people in the art world! How could I be mad at that?” She pulled back and looked him in the eyes. “Thank you. I won’t let you down. I’ll impress the hell out of Mr. Van Heisen at that meeting.” He grinned. “I have no doubt about that. And you’re very welcome.” “I just can’t believe you were standing around talking to the Arthur Van Heisen and you actually thought about my school.” He brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. “I think about you all the time.” “You do?” Nodding, he placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “So does this mean you won’t kick me out before I have a chance to convince you that you want to keep me around?” She nibbled her bottom lip as she stared into his beautiful, dark eyes. “Ethan, even if Mr. Van Heisen can help my school, I’m going to be very busy again after the holidays. For months, maybe years. Are you sure you want to…bother with someone who barely has enough time to sleep?” “I’ll take whatever time you’ll give me. As much as you can spare. In fact, I intend to make sure any spare time you do have, you want to spend with me. Even if all I get is to hold you in my arms while you sleep.”

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Paige sucked in a breath and blinked. She could barely believe what she was hearing. “Why?” she murmured. He smiled, a tender expression that made her throat ache from suppressed emotions. “I like you, Paige. I think there’s something between us that could be really special. And I don’t want to miss out on that.” “Ethan.” She leaned forward and kissed him, deep and with all the feelings she didn’t know how to put into words. The kiss was interrupted by the doorbell. He pulled back and ran a finger over her cheek. “Food’s here. Be back in a minute.” Grinning like a teenager, she glanced at her little Christmas tree and the book beneath it. Ethan would get a kick out of those drawings. She collected the book and returned to the couch. Who knew—those pictures might give him a few ideas. Swallowing her giggle, she flicked open the book and thumbed through the pages, looking for the exquisite drawings that had fueled her midnight fantasies. But as she turned page after page, all she saw were more recipes, ornament ideas, candle making techniques and Christmas songs. She couldn’t find a single one of the charcoal drawings. Frowning, she looked up to see Ethan’s cat swatting at one of the dangling ornaments on her tree. A red ball ornament against the green pine needles. She stared at the cat for a heartbeat, then flipped to the front of the book to the title page. The picture of the fluffy cat playing with the dangling tree ornament was still there. And despite the black-and-white medium, the detail was so exquisite she could easily imagine the red ornament, the green tree, the cat’s white fur—the exact same impressions she’d had the night before. So she hadn’t imagined all the drawings. But if this one was still here, what happened to the others? Had she imagined those? She looked at the title of the book again. 45

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The Christmas Helper. She heard Ethan close the front door and the smell of pepperoni and mushroom pizza drifted into the living room. As he came into the room and set the large box on the coffee table, she said, “I never asked. Did you give the cat a name?” He chuckled. “Not a very creative one. Since she was a Christmas present, I named her Christmas. I suspect that’ll get shortened to Chris before the end of the week. What do you want to drink?” She kept her gaze on the cat. “There’s some diet soda in the fridge. Or there’s a bottle of red wine in the cabinet near the door, if you’d prefer.” “Wine sounds perfect. Be back in a sec.” She nodded, glancing at him long enough to smile. Then her gaze traveled back to the cat. “Christmas.” She tilted her head to one side. “I don’t suppose you know anything about all that mistletoe hanging around my apartment? Or the convenient box of condoms?” The cat turned and looked at Paige, her different-colored eyes reflecting the glow of the tree lights. As Paige watched, Christmas’ green eye closed very slowly while her blue eye stayed open and still. Then Christmas went back to playing with the ornament. If Paige didn’t know better, she’d swear that cat just winked. She glanced at the title of the book again and thought about all the things she’d been worried about, all the things she’d wanted when she’d first opened this present. In the space of twenty-four hours, she had a man in her life she could easily fall in love with and who was willing to deal with her busy schedule, she had the start of a sex life that proved beyond any doubt that she wasn’t frigid and she had the opportunity to meet with an influential philanthropist who could help her with funding for her school. She looked at the cat again as Ethan came back into the room with two glasses of wine. He settled on the couch and handed her a glass when she turned to him. He tapped his glass against hers and said, “To a very Merry Christmas.”

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“To the first of many, I hope.” His wickedly sexy grin set her pulse to pounding. She took a sip of wine, then let him set their drinks aside and pull her into his arms. His kiss filled her with a sense of peace even as her body reacted to the need for something other than food. Pizza could wait until later. She loosened the belt of her robe, letting the garment fall off her shoulders. Ethan cupped her breasts, teasing her nipples into peaks. Then he wrapped strong arms around her, melding her breasts to his still-bare chest and dropped backward onto the couch so that she was sprawled on top of him. She straddled his hips, rubbing against his already hard cock through his jeans. The stimulation of denim against her slit flooded her passage with moisture. She scooted down the couch and unbuttoned his jeans, sucking his cock into her mouth when it sprang free. His sharp inhale rewarded her efforts. “Paige. Your mouth is so hot,” he muttered. The feel of his fingers tunneling into her hair sent a shiver down her spine. He held her in place as she moved over him, tightening her lips near his tip before dropping her mouth to the base of his cock. He grunted and lifted his hips when she tugged his jeans lower so that she could easily cup his balls with one hand. She loved having him beneath her with the taste of him filling her mouth. And knowing he intended to stay in her life made each of his groans a thrill. She was pleasuring her man, and in turn pleasing herself. She rubbed her breasts against his thighs, teasing her nipples against his rough hair, and sucked harder when he moaned. He tugged, trying to move her back up, but she resisted for a moment longer, savoring the taste of him. She reached out with one hand, not the least bit surprised to find a condom on the coffee table within easy reach. She sheathed his cock, licking his balls as she settled the condom in place. Ethan groaned her name and his hands tightened to the point of pain in her hair. Smiling, she relented and crawled up his body. She settled over his erection and slid down slowly, taking him a little at a time so she could enjoy the sensation of being stretched and filled. When she finally settled

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fully on his cock, he gripped her hips, reared up and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close as she rode him. Having him sitting up as she straddled him rubbed the hairs of his groin against her clit—an added stimulation that sped her movements. He pulled back and watched her face, his eyes dark and intent. His expression was serious and his focus fully on her as she moved over him. He ran his hands up her waist, causing her to shudder, and wrapped his arms around her. Then he dipped his head, took one of her nipples into his hot, wet mouth and suckled hard. Her back arched, pressing her breast against his face. She rode him faster as he pulled relentlessly at her nipple with his lips. She could feel an answering tug in her clit and it was more than she could stand. She cried out and let go as her orgasm washed through her. Ethan held her until she settled, then flipped positions so she was under him, his warm body covering hers. “There’s no place I’d rather be than right here,” he murmured as he began to thrust against her. Paige took his face in her hands and kissed him, tangling her tongue with his. The scent of Ethan and sweat and sex mingled with pine and the faint smell of pepperoni. She was surrounded by him, filled up with him, and she knew she’d never get enough. She kept his mouth fused with hers until his body started to quake, and he dragged his lips free as he strained and panted. The couch springs groaned as he stroked faster and faster until he stiffened above her and she felt the pulse of his climax deep inside. Paige sighed in contentment as Ethan hugged her close. This was where she wanted to be too, what she wanted to feel. This was the man she could see spending the rest of her life with. And since Christmas had helped her by bringing him to her door, she wasn’t about to refuse such a perfect present.

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About the Author Isabo welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

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