Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Nick wasn’t sure if he wanted to throttle that idiot, Scott—or give him a round of applause.
His snake of a rival may have sneaked a win for the second night of the scavenger hunt and sent Nick soaring headfirst into a snow-drift, but he’d also managed to interrupt a perilously romantic moment on the sleigh with Rose.
Which, Nick supposed, was a good thing. After all, he’d pledged to keep his hands—and lips—to himself, and look at how well that was working out.
One kiss could be an accident. Two was just plain dangerous.
And three?
Well, Nick was pretty sure that if he kissed Rose again, it would be game over. Goodbye, self-control.
And farewell to their friendship, too.
So, all night, he’d been trying to ignore just how beautiful she looked, with the moonlight shining off her dark curls, and her cheeks flushed pink from the race.
He’d kept his distance, blitzing through the clues.
And when the bumps of the trail had thrown her up against him in the back of the sleigh, he hadn’t drawn her closer or leaned in to taste that cherry-sweet mouth.
Surely, he deserved some kind of medal. Acts of valor in the face of overwhelming desire.
“This is definitely not how I pictured tonight going!” Rose exclaimed with a laugh, as they arrived back in Sweetbriar Cove soaked to the skin, and empty-handed, too.
By the time they’d helped get the sleigh right-side up and the horses under control, the contest was long since over.
“I can’t believe Scott left us there in the snow, just to go and steal the prize. ”
“Oh, I can believe it,” Nick said wryly. “He’s just lucky nobody was hurt.”
“So far,” Rose added, unlocking her door. “But if I die of pneumonia because of this, I’m definitely coming back to haunt him.”
She squelched her way up the stairs to her apartment without saying goodbye, and Nick paused a moment in the doorway. Was this an invitation for him to come up?
And if it was, should he take it?
He wavered. The finish line was right there in sight. Not for the scavenger hunt, but his own personal battle: Making it through the night without reaching for her.
“Do you want tea?” Rose’s voice called down towards him. “I have towels, too, if you want to dry off.”
It was an invitation. And it would be rude to decline.
Just one cup of tea, Nick told himself, as he started climbing the stairs. There was nothing romantic about tea. And besides, he was curious to see where she lived.
Upstairs, the apartment was small and cozy, buried under the eaves, with an open-plan living area and a galley kitchen off to one side.
Nick stripped off his wet coat and boots on the little landing area, taking it all in.
The place was decorated with bright comfortable, vintage furniture, and framed botanical prints, with a small Christmas tree standing in the corner, strewn with lights and ornaments.
“I’ll get the tea started.” Rose said, patting her hair dry with a towel. “If you can get a fire going. Or there’s hot chocolate,” she added cheerfully, “I just picked up a box from Natalie at the chocolate shop. Have you tried it? It’s heaven in a mug.”
“Hot chocolate sounds great!” Nick declared, and turned his attention to his task.
There was an old-fashioned fireplace in the corner of the living room, with wood stacked neatly beside it, so Nick arranged the kindling, and scrunched up some old newspaper to help the flames catch.
Soon enough, there was a respectable fire roaring in the grate, casting a warm glow around the room.
He took a deep breath. He could resist temptation for just another half hour, surely. One drink, some light conversation, and then he would be heading home. Alone.
“Nice work.” Rose emerged from what must be her bedroom, wearing a casual tank top and sweats. “You’re a regular Boy Scout.”
“For three whole months,” Nick managed to reply, reeling from way her tank top clung so casually to her curves. “Before they kicked me out for running an illegal betting ring.”
Rose laughed. “You’re a bad influence, Nick Sterling.” She gave him a wink, brushing past him to reach the kitchen.
His pulse kicked. Whoever said that sweatpants weren’t sexy clearly hadn’t seen Rose Cardinelli strolling by in grey flannel.
“So, are your family visiting for the holidays?” he asked, searching for a safe, non-sexy topic to discuss. But suddenly, the lights seemed to dim. The tree glowed, sparkling in the corner, and then the low, jazzy sound of Frank Sinatra began to play, crooning holiday songs.
He paused, looking around. Between the romantic lighting and the roaring fire… Anyone would think she was trying to seduce him. But that was impossible.
Right?
“You should take your clothes off.”
Nick startled, spinning around. “What?”
Rose was standing dangerously close, offering him a fluffy robe and a helpful smile. “Your sweater’s soaked through,” she explained. “And your pants. I can throw them in the dryer while you warm up.”
“Uh huh.” Nick managed a strangled response.
“Relax, make yourself at home.” Rose smiled, and he could have sworn there was a mischievous glint in her eye. “Unless you’re in any hurry to leave?”
“No…” Nick replied slowly. “No hurry at all.”
“Good.” There was that glint again. “And why don’t I add a little whiskey to the hot chocolate? Natalie says it adds a real kick.” Rose disappeared into the kitchen before Nick could reply, leaving him gripping the robe—and his self-control—for dear life.
Something was definitely going on.
Nick was torn. His brain was telling him to leave, fast, now, before things got out of hand. But the rest of his body? Well, it had other ideas.
Steamy, sensual ones.
He found the small bathroom and stripped off his wet clothes, down to his underwear.
Maybe there was an innocent explanation for all this, he tried to reason, as he pulled on the soft robe and belted it firmly at his waist. It made sense to light a fire for warmth and make a hot drink.
Frank was crooning holiday songs, after all, and perhaps Rose was simply concerned that he’d catch a chill after their tumble in the snowdrift.
Then he stepped back into the living room and found Rose curled up on the floor in front of the fireplace, sipping hot chocolate, and he knew it—he was doomed.
She’d been sent here to torment him. A test of chivalry he’d be all too happy to fail; if their friendship wasn’t on the line. And dammit, he liked the woman. Too much to remove that mug from her hand and ravish her right there in front of the fire.
“Come sit,” she said, patting the rug beside her invitingly, and Nick went to her, feeling surprisingly cheerful for a man who was officially in hell.
He settled beside her, leaning back on a pile of cushions, and Rose handed him a ceramic mug with little zombies gamboling around the rim. “Mackenzie’s handiwork, I suppose?” he asked. Their local potter had a taste for the macabre.
She grinned. “How did you guess?”
“I made the mistake of buying some Valentines gifts from her one year,” Nick confided, taking a sip. “Personally, I thought the bloody, beating heart design was quite romantic, but my date didn’t exactly see it that way.”
“Then you need to start picking better dates,” Rose said, giving him a lazy smile. “You can do better.”
“So can you,” Nick couldn’t help but reply.
Rose smiled. “You know, I’m beginning to think so.” She gave a yawn, stretching as she did. Her chest rose, skin glowing softly in the firelight, her top riding up over her bare stomach.
Nick forgot how to breathe.
Rose tilted her head, studying him. “You have a little something, right, there…” she reached over, and pressed her thumb to the edge of his mouth. She slowly caressed his lower lip, and then brought her thumb to her own mouth and licked it clean.
Dear God.
“Delicious,” she said softly, at least, Nick thought she did. His blood was pounding like thunder in his ears, blocking everything out. One Mississippi, he chanted desperately to himself. Two Mississippi. Three—
Then Rose took the mug of hot chocolate from his hand and set it down on the coffee table. “In case you haven’t noticed,” she murmured, crawling closer until she was just inches away. “I’m trying to seduce you here. So, how about you help a girl out?”
And Nick had absolutely no choice but to oblige.
Rose felt like cheering when Nick finally reached for her.
All night, she’d been wondering if the man was made of stone.
Or, worse still, if she was completely undesirable.
She’d been this close to simply taking off all her clothes and demanding that he ravish her when finally—thankfully—he grabbed her around the waist and yanked her into his arms for a deep, sizzling kiss.
Yes.
Rose kissed him back eagerly, wrapping her arms up around his neck to pull him even closer. It was familiar and intoxicating all at once, the feel of him now: the flood of sensation, his heat, his taste, his body.
But then she remembered what had happened the last few times he’d kissed her. The swift exit, leaving her gasping for more. Not this time.
She pulled back. “Does your offer still stand?” she asked, breathlessly.
“Offer?” Nick echoed, looking disarmingly disheveled there in the firelight; his damp hair curling, and his robe falling open at the chest.
“To be my greasy pancake.” Rose realized as soon as the words left her lips how profoundly unsexy they sounded. “I meant… What you said before. About moving on. That you’d be happy to show me…”
She finally trailed off. Nick was looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face.
Her heart beat even faster.
“Oh God, have I screwed it up?” she blurted, her confidence faltering. “I don’t know, is it supposed to be a whole secret, unspoken thing? You know, the first rule of wild affairs is that you don’t talk about the wild affair—”
He silenced her with a kiss. And oh, what a kiss. Molten hot like the chocolate she’d just been sipping; rich and spicy, and undeniably him.
Nick pulled her into his lap, his hands already everywhere.
Tangling in her hair… Roaming over her body…
Gripping her waist with a firm determination that sent Rose’s heart rate soaring.
She pressed closer, straddling him, loving the feel of his body against her, and the heat of his mouth, driving her wild.
“Yes,” Nick demanded, kissing a blazing trail down her throat. “Yes, to the offer. Yes to whatever the hell you want.”
His hands slid over her body, gripping her hips, kneading her against him, and Rose felt a shock of awareness, feeling him hard between her thighs.
She rocked against him, tugging his robe off his shoulders to explore the planes of his back, loving the way his body tensed to her touch.
Nick groaned, rolling them suddenly so she was laid out on the rug, him braced above her.
“One of us is wearing far too many clothes,” Nick said, with a low, sexy growl in his voice. He slid a finger under the strap of her tank top and snapped. “How about we fix that?”
Rose lifted her arms obediently, and Nick swiftly stripped her tank top over her head. Then he untied the cord on her sweatpants and tugged them down, kissing every inch that the fabric revealed until she was laying there beneath him in her bra and panties.
Nick paused above her, his eyes dark as he drank her in. “God, you’re gorgeous…”
Rose flushed at the intensity of his gaze, but there was no time to feel self-conscious, not with Nick’s mouth on her again, skimming kisses over her stomach, and lingering, hot, against her chest. She moaned as his hands joined the sensual exploration, peeling off her bra and teasing her nipples into stiff, aching peaks.
“Nick,” she gasped, as he teased, barely touching her; his breath hot on her skin as she shivered beneath him. “Nick, please…”
He answered with a wicked kiss: closing his lips around each peak in turn and sucking her slowly, achingly, until she was writhing to his touch.
“Do you know how much I’ve wanted you?” Nick asked, swirling his tongue over her. “This week has been torture. Imagining you naked beneath me, moaning my name…”
Rose’s blood sang. Before this week, she’d had no idea, never could have pictured Nick Sterling driving her wild like this. But now they were tangled together, sprawled on her living room floor…
It felt like the most natural thing in the world. Logical.
Inevitable.
Nick slid lower, tugging her panties down as he dropped fiery kisses over her stomach and thighs. She gasped, tensing in anticipation, but Nick took his time, exploring every inch of skin, barely brushing between her thighs, until she was shivering, her nerves taut, silently begging for more.
Finally, Nick sat up. His smile was wicked in the firelight as he reached over and dipped a finger in the cup of chocolate. “You’re right,” he murmured, licking it up. “It is delicious…”
He took another scoop, parted her thighs, and slowly stroked over her, painting her with the warm chocolate.
Oh God.
Rose gasped, on her back beneath the Christmas tree. She couldn’t believe this was happening, couldn’t believe he could be so shameless, so wicked. So utterly sexy.
But he was.
Nick bent his head and licked his way up her thighs. Closer, closer… And then his tongue flicked over her, and Rose just about lost her mind.
“Nick!” she moaned, so loudly she would have been embarrassed, if she hadn’t already been consumed with hot, coiling pleasure.
He licked again, slow, a tortuous rhythm that made her blood simmer and her limbs itch.
Over and over, he teased her, lapping gently, swirling over her sensitive peak, until she was writhing. Gasping in his arms.
And then he slowly thrust two fingers inside her, and Rose unraveled to his touch.
She cried out, arching against his hand, already cresting as Nick set his mouth to her again and took her over the edge. His mouth, his lips, his fingers… They stroked her to a climax that shattered through her body and set her heart on fire.
And as she surfaced, gasping by the firelight, Rose wondered if she’d been taking entirely the wrong approach to romance. Because if this was how good a wild, no-strings affair felt?
Why would she need anything else?