Читать книгу The Naughty List Bundle with The Night Before Christmas & Yule Be Mine - Fern Michaels - Страница 22

Charles froze. The guy had finally realized he was screwed to hell and back.

“Jonas.” Christie’s breathy voice was like a stroke right over his cock.

He looked up at her, grinding his back teeth. She looked mussed and sexy, and he’d been close to paradise. Until the dumbass had interrupted.

“There’s been a mistake,” Dumbass said.

Jonas kept his eyes on Christie. She bit her lower lip, and her gaze darted between him and Blondie.

“Charles…” Her breath expelled on a rush and Jonas’s brows snapped together. He didn’t like the look she was shooting Dumbass. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Damn right he shouldn’t. Jonas tightened his hold around the guy’s wrists.

“D-didn’t know he was a cop!” The ex gasped out.

“Right. ’Cause it’s fine to assault people, as long as they aren’t cops,” Jonas snapped. Idiot. “Let’s see if a night at the station can—”

“Jonas!” Okay, now she was back to calling his name. Well, not so much calling it as nearly shrieking it in horror. “You’re taking him in?”

His jaw ached, and Jonas realized he was still gritting his teeth. “Does it matter to you?” But the real question was…did the ex matter? Dumbass was still pinned. Christie pulled Jonas’s coat closer to her and stared back at him.

“Christ, this is a mistake!” Dumbass wailed. “I saw you with Christie and I just—”

“We’re over, Charles,” she said, her voice cold. Not seeming to care so much. “Who I’m with, who you’re with—doesn’t matter. That’s what over means.”

Okay, that was good enough for Jonas, and because he was suddenly feeling so generous, he eased his grip and let Dumbass flop over.

The guy stared up at him with wide gray eyes. Jonas glared down at him. “This is your warning, asshole. You ever come at me again, you’re in jail.”

The gray eyes darted to Christie.

Jonas stepped closer to her. “You heard the lady. Over. So unless you have Tate Company business with her, stay the hell away.” He put his arm over her shoulders and pulled her close. Territorial? Yeah, that was him.

But he finally had a chance with Christie, and no dumbass was going to ruin that for him.

The blond swallowed and tried to straighten up. “I…Christie—”

“Go, Charles. I think you’re drunk. Y-you need to catch a cab and sleep this night off.”

Another bob of his Adam’s apple, and Dumbass finally staggered out.

The anger that fired Jonas’s blood didn’t cool as the door closed with a soft snick. “Is that what you wanted?” he demanded.

Revenge sex. If Lydia had been right, Christie had just scored a major hit. Gotten her jealous ex to take a swing at the new man.

But she shook her head and, for an instant, sadness slipped over her face. “No, I-I almost had what I wanted but…maybe it’s just not in the cards, huh?”

She shrugged out of his jacket and handed it back to him. Silently, she found her sweater and dressed. A light red stained her cheeks. Embarrassed?

Hell, he had been moving fast with her. But wasn’t fast what she’d wanted?

In seconds, her clothes were positioned perfectly, but her hair was a bit wild, and her lips were still red and swollen.

Then she leaned up and pressed that sweet mouth against his. A kiss too light, too fleeting. Her breath whispered against him. “Good night, Jonas.” Her hand hovered over her stomach as she pulled away, and yeah, that was definitely fear in her eyes.

But what was she afraid of?

He watched her walk out of the office, her steps sure. He bent down and picked up the scrap of lace that had fallen on the floor.

He could give Christie everything she wanted, if she’d just trust him. The problem was…he didn’t know if Christie was afraid of him or herself.

His fingers tightened around her panties. He didn’t know, but he’d damn well find out.

He hurried out of her office, narrowly avoiding a collision in the hallway with a redhead in a dark green dress. “Have you—have you seen Charles Crenshaw?” she asked quietly. “I think”—she took a deep breath—“I think he came here looking for Christie.”

“They’re both gone,” he told her and saw her eyes widen. Oh, wait, shit, could this be Vicki? Lydia had been talking about the redhead, too. Lydia had liked to talk about everyone. “They didn’t leave together.”

“Oh.” Relief flashed across her face.

Right. Whatever. She could deal with Dumbass. Charles wasn’t a priority for him anymore.

Only Christie mattered.

The snow had just started to fall when Christie heard the knock at her door. She’d been staring out the back window, thinking about—who else?—Jonas and what an idiot she’d been.

Running away.

Nice. Smooth.

Seemed like she’d spent years running from him. No, not from him. From herself.

The knock came again, harder. She frowned. Okay, usually the delivery driver just knocked once and left her package on the doorstep. She hurried to the foyer and peeked out the peephole.

Not the delivery driver.

Jonas stood on the other side of the door. Her hand slapped against the wood. Oh, damn.

Her fingers were shaking a bit as she fumbled with the lock and the doorknob. Don’t screw this up again. Try to be cool. Confident. Act like you’re a woman who’s had lots of sex. Lots of great sex on desks and hell, everywhere!

He’d almost made her come on top of a desk. Her knees jiggled a little as she yanked open the door. “Jonas!” Her smile felt huge on her face.

He stared at her a moment, then blinked and shook his head.

Her smile dimmed a bit. Why was he looking at her like that? Snowflakes had fallen onto his battered black leather jacket, a jacket that made his golden skin look darker, his black windblown hair sexier.

Sexy. That was the word that always sprang to mind when she thought of Jonas. Jonas with the bright eyes and slightly crooked nose—courtesy of a bar fight he’d broken up when he’d been a rookie cop.

His lips—the top a little thin, the bottom perfectly bite-able—curved a bit.

She cleared her throat. “What are you…um, doing here?” The words were a little too high. Not the confident air she’d been going for.

His black brows rose. “Mind if I come in?” A puff of white appeared before his mouth. “Damn cold out here.”

Oh, yes, right. She opened the door wider. Jonas stomped his boots on her mat, then crossed the threshold, immediately making her feel that her doorway was too small. He was too big. He was—

He had a package in his hands. A small red box with a dark green bow. “I brought you something.”

He’d never given her a present before. Not once, and sometimes, it felt like she’d known him forever.

Known him, wanted him, had too much champagne and finally asked for her secret desire.

She pushed the door closed behind them. Her eyes were on the present. It looked small and innocent in his big, gloved hands. Of course, there was nothing innocent about him. She knew that.

“Don’t worry,” he told her, flashing a smile that revealed his perfect white teeth. “It’s not going to bite you.”

But I will. The words seemed to hang in the air as she stared at him. Christie gulped and stepped forward to take the present. “It’s…uh…not Christmas yet.” Not for another week. They’d had the party at Tate Toys last night because it had been Friday night. The perfect opportunity for a party because not many folks had to get up early the next day.

“Anything wrong with an early present between friends?” His gloved fingers brushed hers as she took the gift. A lick of heat seemed to shoot right through her body.

She was holding the present too tightly. “Is that what we are? Friends?” She tasted the word. Jonas had been on the cusp of her life for so long. When she’d transferred to Duke University, he and Daniel had already been roommates. Jonas had treated her like a kid sister, too. She’d been crazy about him. One look in those green eyes…

She shook the present. Didn’t hear anything.

Jonas shrugged out of his coat and hung it on the rack. His gloves hit the table. “We could be friends.” His head cocked to the right as he studied her. “We could be more.”

Lovers.

“Don’t crush the box,” he murmured and she realized her hold had turned into a death grip.

Her breath expelled slowly and her fingers relaxed a bit. Jonas turned away and headed into her den. He whistled lightly. “That’s some tree.”

A bit of the tension eased from her body and her smile came back. “Thanks. Daniel helped me get it inside.” The tree brushed her sixteen-foot ceiling. “It took me two days to decorate it but—”

“But you love Christmas, so you had one hell of a time, right?” His eyes were on her, seeming to see so much.

“Right.” Softly spoken.

“You’re the one who decorates Tate Toys every year, aren’t you?”

How did he—

“Daniel’s told me how much you love this time of year.” His gaze darted to her jingle bell sweater. “And it’s kinda…easy to see.”

She lifted the present. “I-I’ll just…put this under the tr—tree.” Dammit, she hated her nervous stutter. Just when she thought she’d had the thing under control, Jonas stared at her and—wham, it was back. She sucked in a breath and tried again, “I-I’ll just put this under the tree with the—”

“I’d rather you opened it now.”

Why did his voice sound like sex? Well, not like sex, but that rumble made her think of sex. Of sheets and darkness, of a strong body surrounding hers and of a growl telling her to—

“Actually, before you open it, we need to talk.” He stalked toward her. The fire crackled behind him and sent a blaze of warmth into the room. “Over the years, we haven’t done much talking, have we?”

She shook her head, aware that her heartbeat had kicked way up.

“I’ve done a lot of watching you.” His gaze was on her. His hand lifted and brushed a lock of hair back from her cheek. “Sure as hell a lot of fantasizing.”

What?

“But not a whole lot of actual talking.”

She might have swallowed her tongue. Christie tried to clear her throat, then said, “You never…seemed much interested in talking.” After he’d graduated, he’d joined the force. He’d fast-tracked to the narcotics division then—

“When I was undercover”—he shook his head—“you didn’t want to be around me.”

“That’s not true! I—”

“I spent my days with criminals. I lived their lives.” His hand dropped. “I didn’t want you to know the things I did. Didn’t want any part of that world to touch you.”

He’d cared? Her stomach tightened. “I…didn’t realize you’d even—” Noticed me. Okay, she couldn’t say that. She had her pride. But the years had trickled away, and he’d spared her the briefest of greetings when their paths had crossed. She hadn’t thought he’d noticed her as a woman, and she certainly hadn’t realized the guy was interested.

Until last night.

“Always the princess,” he murmured, and his gaze raking around her house, “safe in the castle.”

She stiffened. Yes, the Tate family had money. A lot of it. But she wasn’t some spoiled debutante who didn’t know the meaning of work, and she wasn’t some weak-willed woman who’d break at the first sign of a bleak reality. “I don’t live in a castle. I live in the real world. I work every day. I earn my own money, I—”

He kissed her. A light, sensual brush of his lips that halted her words and stirred the need that had built within her.

“I know what you do,” he muttered, pulling back from her. “I know so much more than you think.”

Her brows lifted even as she licked her lips. Trying to taste him. She had it bad. A crush that should have ended years ago, but now—

I know he wants me. There was no holding back for her.

“It’s not about revenge, is it?”

He’d lost her. Totally. “Uh, Jonas—”

“I heard one of your coworkers last night. The folks who saw us in the elevator spread word pretty fast about what we were doing.”

Making out in that tight elevator. His body pressed to hers. His tongue in her mouth.

More, please. “Ah, how does that mean I want revenge against you?”

“Not me, baby. Your ex. The dumbass who came barreling into your office like he had some kind of right to be there, with you.”

A surprised laugh broke from her lips. “Charles? You think I want revenge on Charles?” She shook her head but never eased her hold on the package. “My brother owns the business, remember? If I wanted revenge, the guy would be out looking for a new job.”

His gaze measured her. “But you don’t work that way.”

No. “You heard what I told him. Charles and I are over.” She forced a shrug. “End of story.” The minute Jonas’s lips had brushed hers, she’d barely even been able to remember Charles’s touch.

“Good to hear.” His gaze dropped to the box. “Got a deal to offer you.”

A deal?

“You told me what you wanted last night.”

Ah, yes. Champagne and false Christmas courage. A dangerous mix. “I told you but, um, you were the one who followed me.” She had to point that out. It wasn’t like she’d forced him to do anything. “You came after me, you kissed me.”

“And I plan to do a hell of a lot more than kiss you.” His voice roughened.

Christie rocked forward a bit.

His eyes narrowed. “You want your good time? Well, baby, I can promise you the best sex you’ve ever had.”

She locked her knees. “Awful s-sure of yourself.” Since she’d had three lovers who’d delivered only average sex, and one other guy who’d been really disappointing, odds were high that Jonas could make good on his promise. Not that she’d tell him and his ego that.

“I’m sure of you,” he said. “When I touched you…”

Her nipples tightened.

“You went up in flames. Since I’m going to do a lot more touching, I know just how hot your body is going to burn for mine.” His green eyes glittered. “I can give you what you want for Christmas. Exactly what you want.”

She knew he could. “Great sex, no strings,” she whispered. Not boring, not with him.

The faint lines around his eyes tightened.

She’d heard her brother talk often about Jonas and his women over the years. Jonas and his flavor of the week. Daniel had been right when he warned her last night. Jonas wasn’t a commitment kind of guy. “Not forever.” The words slipped out.

He gave a hard nod. “Just sex.”

Her chin lifted even as her heart slammed into her chest. She’d been brave last night. She could pull on the mask again. “The best we’ve both ever had.” No stutter.

His breath came harder. “Open the box.”

Her fingers jerked at the bow. Ripped away the paper. She fumbled with the box top, opened it, and found—

A small scrap of lace. She lifted it up, and the dark red lace dangled from her fingertips. Panties. He’d given her panties. Really sexy, really hot panties that wouldn’t cover anything.

A wild girl would love this gift. She’d laugh, wear those and nothing else for her lover. A wild girl would do just that.

What about a good girl pretending to be wild?

She dropped the box, but kept the lace in her hand.

His eyes were on her face. He seemed even…bigger now. Or maybe her room was getting smaller. “I tore your panties last night.”

Oh, God. Heat rose in her cheeks. Yes, he’d torn them, and she’d left them in her office. Smooth.

“Figured the least I could do was give you a new pair.” His hand lifted and tangled with hers. “A pair for you to wear just for me.”

Jonas Kirk was standing in front of her, promising her great sex, and giving her sexy underwear. This scene was really similar to a dream she’d had last week.

His head tilted toward her. “You up for this?” he dared her.

What? Did he think she was all talk? That she’d turn away when things got too hot? Hadn’t he realized she was desperate for the heat?

“Stay here,” she told him, her voice too husky. She eased around him. Christie forced herself to walk, nice and slow, and added a little roll to her hips as she left him. Watch me, watch me.

At her bedroom door, Christie glanced back just in time to catch his gaze on her ass. More confident, she threw him a smile.

Then she closed the door and shut him out, right before her knees buckled.