The Christmas Set-Up Page 4

  “I know.” She pulled back and covered her face with her hands. “God. I’m sorry.” She dropped her hands and pointed at him. “But this is all your fault.”

  He laughed again. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted to strangle a woman at the same moment he’d wanted to strip her naked and bury himself inside her. “My fault?”

  “Yes! I mean, you’re lying there, hurt and in pain, and I…I can’t stand it when someone’s hurting or in pain. And then there’s the chips. The irresistible barbecue chips, Jason. I mean, why couldn’t it have been plain chips? Plain, I could have resisted—” She started to get up, but he managed to snake his fingers around her wrist.

  One little tug and she was back on the bed. Another tug and he put her off balance so that she fell over him.

  He threaded his fingers in her hair, tilted her head so he didn’t have to tilt his and kissed her, long and slow and deep. He knew she was right there with him when she moaned low in her throat and pressed up against him, her hands running restlessly over whatever she could reach, making a sound of frustration when she was thwarted by the blanket between them. She tugged, reminding him he was bare-ass naked beneath it. “Zoe,” he said in warning.

  “Not done tasting the chips,” she murmured, and brought his mouth back to hers.

  Not one to argue with a woman—not when her hands were on the move southward and heading toward home base—Jason gave in, nipping her jaw, running his tongue over the hollow of her throat.

  “This is crazy,” she gasped, even as she arched against him, moaning with pleasure. Her suit jacket was in his way, so he nudged it from her shoulders. She never took her mouth off him as she shimmied out of it.

  “Crazy,” he agreed, pulling her so that she was now straddling his hips.

  “I mean, I could totally resist you if I wanted.”

  “Good.” His hands went straight to her blouse, flicking the buttons open as she wriggled on him and made his eyes cross with lust. Her skirt had risen up past her thighs so that the only thing separating them was the thin blanket and what looked like a very sexy pair of silky pale blue panties.

  She got busy sucking on his tongue. Not wanting to disturb that, Jason spread her blouse wide and tugged the cups of her bra down.

  Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, slid quickly down his chest to his abs and back up, as if she couldn’t get enough of him. He urged her even closer so that he could suck her nipple between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. The sweet sounds she made in response wreaked havoc on any control he had left. She was writhing on him, her eyes closed, mouth open, skin dewy and flushed.

  She was his every fantasy.

  “I want you,” he said hoarsely. “Zoe, I want—”

  “Yes. God, yes,” she said with a shudder as he lifted her enough to rip away the blanket and then the towel from between them.

  “Oh,” she murmured huskily in soft pleasure as she stared down at the part of him that was the most happy to be there. She wrapped her fingers around him, making him thrust up into her hand. But the movement jarred his neck and he sucked in a breath as the pain slapped him.

  “Oh, God,” she said shakily, still holding him in her hands. “Are you okay? Should we stop?”

  “Only if you want to see a grown man cry,” he managed to say, gripping her ass in one hand, rolling her nipple between his fingers with his other. He hadn’t chosen to be here, certainly hadn’t planned on this, but now there was nowhere else he wanted to be. He wanted to stay like this, exactly like this, with her. And even though he told himself there was no sense in craving things he couldn’t have, he continued to tease and coax her body into needing his.

  “Don’t move,” she demanded. “You hear me? I’ll do it.”

  He’d never been much for following directions, and he’d certainly never lay pliant in bed before, but there was something about letting her be in control, letting her have her way with him that excited him.

  “Condom?” she whispered.

  He stared at her, gobsmacked. Never in his life had he forgotten a condom. “I don’t—” Shit. “I didn’t expect—”

  “I’m on the pill,” she murmured. “And I haven’t had sex in two years.”

  “Two years—”

  “You?”

  “I’ve never had sex without a condom. But—”

  The words backed up in his throat when she scraped her panties to one side and guided him home.

  Oh, God. The feel of her silky wet heat… She’d told him not to move, but he couldn’t help it. He reached down and rubbed his thumb over her until she gasped.

  “There.” Her fingers dug into his biceps. “Oh, God, Jason. There.”

  Which he took to mean “don’t stop.” He didn’t, and she gasped again, and then she cried out and came. Watching her, hearing her, did him in. He wasn’t going to last. He gripped her hips, desperate to hold it together.

  “Jason. God, Jason.”

  “I know.” He wanted to slow down, wanted to build the pleasure for her again, but the way she was looking down at him, the bewildered arousal, the tight need, how she’d given herself to him after not being with anyone in so long, was seriously testing his control. “Come here,” he whispered. She leaned over him, sucking his lower lip into her mouth.

  His control slipped yet another notch and he rocked his hips into hers, holding there, sucking in air as she grinded on him. He closed his eyes. “Zoe.”

  “Mmm,” was all she seemed to be able to get out. He slid a hand between their bodies and stroked, watching as she quivered, loving the way her head fell back on her shoulders, how she cried out and shuddered and came all over him. It was the most erotic, gorgeous sight he’d ever seen, and far too much for his already shaky control. Unable to hold back, he followed her over.

  CHAPTER SIX

  WHEN ZOE CAUGHT HER BREATH, she realized she was plastered up against Jason, arms and legs wrapped around him like a monkey, her face pressed hard to his throat.

  Way to resist him, Zoe. She pulled free and got off the bed.

  “Zoe?” His voice was low, husky. One hundred percent sated male.

  Because just the sound of him softened her resistance, she turned her back to him so she could straighten her panties and fix the cups of her bra. She was bending for her jacket when she heard the low groan.

  It wasn’t a pleasure-filled groan, either. And she now knew the difference. Grimacing at her weakness, she whirled around to find him struggling to his feet. And he was struggling, pain etched in every line of his face.

  With a sigh, she moved back to the bed, putting her hands on his bare chest. “Stop. You’re going to make it worse.”

  Ignoring her, he slowly and cautiously straightened.

  “Jason, stop. Stay in bed.”

  Swearing, he started to reach for the blanket and went pale. She grabbed the thing and wrapped it around him, her fingers brushing his perfect torso as much as possible.

  “Say the word and the blanket is gone,” he said.

  Her gaze flew to his. “You’re hurting. How could you possibly want round two?”

  “Testosterone,” he said simply. “Testosterone would follow a woman with an ass as sweet as yours straight into the depths of hell.” He paused. “And you should talk. You just totally felt me up while you were wrapping the blanket around me. You want round two just as bad as me.”

  “Two years,” she repeated.

  “Why so long?” he asked softly.

  Since that was a question that she didn’t want to face, she bent and searched for her heels, locating them just under the bed. Jamming her feet into them, she headed out of the bedroom. “We aren’t going to speak of this to anyone.”

  He was following her, but said nothing. She decided to take his silence as agreement but made the fatal mistake of looking back at him.

  His hair was more rumpled than ever, and still dead sexy. He hadn’t shaved this morning, maybe not yesterday, either. And she knew firstha
nd what that dark scruff felt like on her skin. She had the whisker burns on her breasts and throat to prove it. He was holding his head at a funny angle, assuring her that however much she wanted to be gone, he was still absolutely hurting. “Are you going to be okay?” she asked.

  He arched a brow. “If I said no, would you jump my bones again?”

  She felt the blush spread across her cheeks. Good. He was still an ass. That made resisting him easier. “I need my files.”

  “I told you, I don’t have them. It was supposed to start snowing tonight. Has it started?”

  She peeked outside. Tiny little flakes were coming down. “Just, the roads should still be okay.” As for the missing memory stick, she’d live. It would involve embarrassing herself in front of her boss, but she’d email him and admit to needing another copy of the specs, and she remembered most of her notes and ideas. “I meant what I said. Promise me that this stays between us.”

  “Which? The fact that I gave you two orgasms, or that you lost your own files?”

  “You were counting?”

  “Not necessary. Each time you came, you dug your nails into my back.” His expression was pure smug male. “Well worth it, of course.”

  She narrowed her eyes, trying to ignore the fact that despite his best efforts, the blanket was slipping. She knew damn well he had to be freezing. Not that she cared. She huffed out a breath. “Look, we’re not teenagers. It’s happened, it’s done, we deal with it. All I’m saying is that we don’t ever have to discuss it.”

  “It?”

  “Our…nakedness,” she clarified.

  “And the orgasms.”

  “Yes, those, too,” she said with what she felt was remarkable calm.

  “And the cuddling afterward?” he asked. “Is that off limits as well, the way you curled into me all soft and warm and purring like a well-fed kitten?”

  “I did not—” She grated her teeth. Okay, so she had. “Are you saying you want everyone to know about this?”

  Instead of answering, he turned and walked into the kitchen, still moving in a way that gave away his pain. She let out a breath, torn. Torn by him, dammit. How could it be that she didn’t want to go? “Jason.”

  He didn’t answer, but she could hear a cell phone going off. His, she decided by the ringtone. Then she heard him swear, and then the sound of glass shattering.

  Zoe ran into the kitchen and found Jason standing barefoot amongst shards of glass on the floor. “Did you cut yourself?” she asked.

  “I’m not a complete moron.”

  “Don’t move.”

  “I won’t,” he bit out. “I can’t.”

  She could see that was true. He was very still, probably because he couldn’t move without pain. Since she had her heels on, she walked right up to him and crouched, scooping up pieces of glass. “What happened?”

  “I got a text from Mike and I dropped my glass.”

  The glass had broken in six or seven pieces. She carefully picked them up one at a time, trying not to notice his bare feet. A man’s feet shouldn’t be sexy, and yet there they were. Being sexy. “Must have been some text,” she said.

  “Mike has your damn file. He sent you up here thinking he was playing matchmaker because he didn’t want me to be alone on Christmas.”

  Still kneeling at his feet, Zoe went still, then tipped her head back to look at him. “What?”

  “Yeah,” Jason said grimly. “That’s my brother, always the helpful one. Look, I’m sorry, he’s an asshole. Although you thought I stole the damn file, so that means you were sure I was the asshole, so…”

  She shook her head, unable to process anything past the roar of the blood in her own ears. “We were had by your brother?”

  “Seems like it.”

  “Oh, my God.” She rose to her feet, fists clenched. “He wanted us to—”

  “Which we did,” he pointed out.

  She stared at him. “Ohmigod,” she repeated.

  That sexy muscle in his jaw bunched again. “I’ll apologize for my idiot of a brother, Zoe. But no one forced us to—”

  “Don’t say it,” she warned, pointing at him, shaking with anger. Or maybe that was just humiliation. All your own fault, she reminded herself, suddenly painfully aware of their conflicting ambitions and how much was at stake here if word got out of what had happened between them. “We aren’t discussing it, remember? Ever.” She let out a breath and shook her head. “You didn’t text him back, right? You didn’t tell him that we—”

  “Christ, no. Although I might kill him. You don’t mind that, right?”

  “I’ll hold him down for you,” she said grimly.

  A ghost of a smile crossed his lips.

  She searched out the trash can, dumped the glass in it and found a little hand broom, using it carefully so he wouldn’t have trouble after she was gone, hating that she even cared. “I saw a bear box for the trash outside when I came in. I’m going to go dump this there and then be on my way.”

  “Wait.” He vanished for a minute and then came back and handed something to her. A memory stick. His.

  “Jason, I can’t—”

  “My design isn’t on there, but all the specs are, so at least you can get something done before you get yours back from Mike. If you want.”

  “What will you do?”

  “I’ll figure it out.”

  She stared down at the stick, not sure how to reconcile all her feelings. She’d been so mad, so hurt…and then naked.

  And now he had to go and be such a good guy.

  It was quite the offer. She knew how ambitious he was, and his talent backed up that ambition. He wanted to win this design, this promotion, every bit as much as she did, maybe more.

  She curled her fingers around the stick. Maybe her best bet was to work with him. They could submit their plan to Steele together and then their boss could decide based on their past work who’d get the promotion…

  No. It was crazy. It was.

  “Promise me, Jason, that this whole sex thing is as good as forgotten.”

  Something flickered in his eyes, coming and going so fast she couldn’t put her finger on the emotion. “I promise,” he said softly. A victory.

  But for some reason it felt hollow as she walked out the back and into the night.

  * * *

  JASON GOT HIMSELF BACK TO BED, carefully lowered his body to it, then did his best to get comfortable, which turned out to be an impossible task. At least the Midol Zoe had given him made him sleepy.

  Or maybe that had been the mind-blowing orgasm.

  In either case, his neck hurt like hell and his feet were cold, but there was nothing he could do about either so he made himself relax.

  Promise me, Jason, Zoe had said, that this whole sex thing is as good as forgotten.

  Her words bounced around in his head. His last thought as he drifted off to sleep was that she’d extracted a promise from him that he should have been happy to make, but he hadn’t, not at all. Nope, against his better judgment, he didn’t want to forget a single minute of it. In fact, he wanted more.

  * * *

  ZOE GOT ABOUT A MILE DOWN the road on the very narrow, very curvy two-lane highway when she realized she was leaving for the wrong reason. So she’d been manipulated by Mike, so what. Yeah, it was all a big joke and she’d gotten caught up in it and slept with Jason.

  It was nothing.

  But she couldn’t make herself believe it. Mostly because she never got caught up in a man, not like that, not even when she had a silly little crush on the guy—which she’d had.

  Had. Past tense, she assured herself. Crush over.

  Fingers tight on the wheel, she made a sharp turn and slid a little bit on some ice. Her heart was in her throat when she steered out of it. She slowed way down but there were no city lights, no streetlights and no other cars. The only thing relieving the relentless dark was the white of the heavy snow and the two inconsequential beams of her headlights.

  W
hen she slid again, she pulled over. Mother Nature was trying to tell her something, the same something her gut was trying to tell her. Her cell vibrated an incoming text, and she read the message from her oldest sister.

  * * *

  The roads are iced over up here. If you haven’t left SF yet, don’t. Wait until daylight.

  Zoe stared out her windshield for a long moment. She could go a few miles, where she’d come to a small mining town with a few inns. Or she could turn around and go back to Tahoe where there was a man in nothing but a blanket and enough testosterone and pheromones to keep her warm until morning…

  It was really no contest. She turned around and drove back to the cabin. She knocked, a sense of déjà vu coming over her when Jason didn’t answer.

  Once again, she let herself in, but this time she found Jason asleep on the bed.

  Feeling like Goldilocks, she tiptoed out of the bedroom. She couldn’t bring herself to wake him up, and she certainly couldn’t crawl into bed with him. So she went out to her car for her bag.

  As she hauled her bag out of the trunk, her gaze landed on the Christmas decorations she’d promised her mom that she’d bring to the cabin.

  She grabbed them along with her other things. What the hell. If she wasn’t going to spend the evening with her family decorating, she could do it here.

  Inside the cabin, she lit a fire, proud of her ability to do so even if it took almost a full box of matches until she got the thing crackling with heat.

  By now the snow was coming down, casting a beautiful blanket of white over everything.

  She’d made the right decision. So why was she feeling so…discombobulated? She glanced toward the bedroom.

  Because you’re playing Goldilocks…

  She nibbled on her lower lip, not sleepy. If she had made it to Quincy, she’d be in the midst of her family right now, arguing and bickering and being reminded that no matter what she did she was still the baby of the family and could never catch up to her siblings’ accomplishments. She sent them all a text, then strung pretty little white lights along the small bar and fireplace. There was a potted pothos plant in one corner, nearly as tall as she was. She turned it into a Christmas tree, hanging small red and gold balls from the branches. The boughs of holly she spread on the mantel and on the windowsills. She went a little bit crazy with the tinsel, but the flashes of silver and gold felt cheery. The whole place felt cheery. And cozy. And warm.