Noelle
R eid is losing his mind. I put on a movie to give him a distraction, something to fixate on instead of freaking out, but I forget that Die Hard is one hundred percent a Christmas movie. Ho ho ho, motherfuckers.
“This is treason,” Reid says, his tone mild as he watches gunfire spray across the screen. “Kiss your bonus goodbye, .”
Yeah, right. “I don’t believe you.”
My boss’s mouth twitches, like he’s pleased I’ve finally seen through his threats.
When our food arrives, we eat wedged together against the headboard, bowls of chana masala and rice held up by our chests. It’s delicious—hot and spicy and gah , so perfect—and even Reid hums with approval as he chews, eyes on the movie.
That pleased little rumble, reverberating around his chest… it does something to me.
I want to cause sounds like that from Reid Merryweather. Want to make him hum and moan and groan. Would he ever let me?
“You’re not going to shower?” I ask once we’re both finished eating, placing our plates on a tray by the door. My pajama pants swish as I cross back to the bed, hopping back up onto the mattress. “Seriously, the hot water feels so good after that drive. And you can’t spend all night in a necktie.”
Wordlessly, still watching the movie, Reid tugs his tie off and drops it on the rug beside the bed. My low belly tingles.
“That shirt can’t be comfortable, either.”
Reid flicks open the top two buttons, still not looking my way. My cheeks glow. And he’s shown the tiniest strip of bare skin, the merest sliver of his toned chest, but somehow it’s more erotic than if someone else paraded around buck-nude.
Reid Merryweather is always buttoned up. Always stiff and reserved, snapping and snarling when people try to get past his barriers.
But not me.
With me, he’ll stretch out on this patchwork quilt and watch a holiday movie; he’ll eat room service food and take off his tie.
What else would he do? What else does he want to do?
“So, those PJs,” I try again, but Reid shakes his head and pats the bed next to him.
“Come here, .”
Oookay. Wriggling back into place so I’m propped next to Reid against the headboard, I try to focus on the movie. Try to follow the plot.
It’s impossible. This close to my grumpy boss, so close I can smell the faint scent of his aftershave and feel the heat of his body, I can’t think straight. Can’t focus at all. Can’t do anything except lie here, body humming beneath my borrowed pajamas, nerve endings singing out with how badly I want to be touched.
Touched by him. Reid.
Would he like that? Or would he roll his eyes and go sleep in the car?
Oh god, he’s so handsome. Every time I steal a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye, my belly swoops. His jaw is hard, shadowed with the day’s stubble, and his forehead is creased with a frown. That thick, dark hair would be so great to tug. Reid gusts out a strained sigh.
“Are you going to watch me or this infernal Christmas movie, ?”
My heart races under my pajama shirt. “You.”
Reid’s mouth twitches again. He raises an eyebrow, still watching Bruce Willis pick off bad guys. “And after breaking the rules, too. Such a waste of your December bonus.”
“Well, since I’ve lost my bonus anyway…” My hands are damp with nerves as I turn away and dig in the nightstand, pulling out the one decoration I saved from Reid’s earlier purge. Tucked it in the drawer when he wasn’t looking: a crumpled sprig of mistletoe, with pearly white berries nestled among dark leaves.
It lands on Reid’s lap with the softest of thumps.
My boss blinks down at the mistletoe. Icy blue eyes turn and pin me in place.
Is it always this hard to breathe? My lungs have stopped working.
“,” Reid says slowly. His pupils are expanding, eating up the pale blue rings of his eyes. His chest rises and falls steadily beneath his slightly unbuttoned shirt. “What are you doing?”
My pulse thumps in my ears as I tip over, kneeling in front of my boss. My hand trembles as it rests against his chest, and my voice sounds like it comes from far away, muffled by my own heartbeat. “Oh come on, Reid. Even you know what mistletoe is for.”
He sniffs hard, then flings the sprig at the wall. “We don’t need that bullshit, .”
I’m tipped over before I can blink.
Pressed down into the mattress, Reid’s body covering mine from above. Blanketing me. And god, if any part of me thought he’d be stilted, restrained, tepid in his response to my advances… I was so, so wrong.
It’s like a switch has flipped. Goodbye, cranky ice man who hates everyone and everything; hello, hot, hungry boss.
Reid takes my wrists and pins them above my head, our hands sinking into the pile of pillows. He scowls at me from mere inches away, dark hair flopping over his forehead, and seals our bodies together from chest to legs. The sounds of shattering glass float from the TV, with the screams of Nakatomi Tower.
“Is this what you want?”
Reid sounds mad. Such a grump, even now.
I crane up and nip his chin.
And my boss snarls , then ducks down and kisses me so hard my head spins. Kisses me into oblivion.
It’s bruising and harsh. He’s punishing me as well as giving in, his mouth moving against mine without mercy, without pause, like he’s trying to teach me a lesson. Well, the joke’s on him.
Because I love this.
Love Reid’s weight pressing me down into the bed, squeezing the air from my lungs; love the hard length digging between my legs, prodding me through our clothes; love his hot, wicked mouth. I love all of it.
And Reid Merryweather kisses me like he’s been desperate for a taste for years. Like he’s craved this since the first day we met, the same way I have, and now he has three years of pent up thirst to slake. His ice blue eyes are open, glaring at me, watching my reactions as he roughly claims my mouth, but when I tug his lower lip between my teeth… my boss’s eyelids finally slide closed.
Reid slants his head and softens our kiss. Goes slower, deeper , like he’s done punishing me and now he wants to savor every second. Tension leaves his body, and he melts against me, getting heavier. Closer. Everywhere.
Yes. I want him to squish me flat.
Want to feel every inch of him.
Strong hands leave my wrists, scorching two hot trails down my sides. My fingers weave into his dark hair; they twist and tug. Every time he rocks to one side or the other, letting up the pressure for a split second, I gasp for air, but I don’t care. This is perfect.
I love being trapped by this man. Pinned and claimed so thoroughly. Part of me had worried that if I ever coaxed Reid Merryweather into kissing me, if I ever got past his sky-high walls, he’d be rote and tentative. Going through the motions to make me happy, or out of curiosity, maybe—but not really into it.
That fear is long gone; it flew out of my brain the second our lips met. Because Reid is not restrained, not at all—his control has finally snapped, and he’s lost in me. Drowning in me. Taking his pleasure.
“Reid!”
I gasp his name as he sucks hard on my neck. It’s going to leave a bruise, but do I care? I do not.
I am his. The whole world should know that anyway.
“Oh my god.” Giggles burst between my lips as Reid trails hot kisses down my body, mouthing me through the pajama shirt. He finds my hard nipple easily, sucking it through the fabric.
I bow off the bed with a gasp.
“Oh my god. Oh my god.” His dark hair is thick and springy, and surprisingly soft between my fingers. I scratch at his scalp as Reid kisses down to my belly button, breathing hot air on my navel through the shirt fabric. “I thought you’d, like, peck me on the cheek. This is insane.”
Insanely good. A dream come true.
But Reid stiffens, his big hands gripping my hips. “Insane?”
My stomach plummets. “In a good way!”
But it’s too late—he’s already gone eerily still, already withdrawn behind his walls. It’s not Reid-the-hot-lover lying on top of me anymore, it’s Reid Merryweather, cranky boss.
When he rolls off me to one side, I’ve never been less glad for a lungful of air.
“Please come back.” My arms are wobbly, my body going haywire from our kiss, but I reach for him. “Please don’t stop.”
Reid stands by the bed, breathing hard, his dark hair all rucked up. He shakes his head slowly, takes one long look down my boneless body, then turns and marches into the en suite.
The door slams. The shower stutters to life.
I gape at the ceiling, so turned on and so, so disappointed.