Page 160 of How My Neighbour Stole Christmas
“Exactly,” he says. “But yeah, this is where I hang out every day. I like to keep it clean. Max thinks it’s funny how neat I am. I get pissed at himwhen he traipses into the barn in his muddy farm boots leaving dirt and gunk everywhere. I always have to power wash the floors after.”
“Who knew you were so persistent in needing a clean space.”
“Well, I have school trips come visit the barn, and I just think it’s important to make sure we present ourselves in a professional way at all times.”
“I can see that.” I walk down the hall, toward the stalls. “Are they back here?”
“They are,” he says, following me. “We bring them in at night so they can calm down from the day’s events, get comfortable, and find some peace before the next day starts.”
“Seems like you care about them a lot.”
“We do,” he says as he walks up to one of the pens and makes a clicking noise. I hear a grumble and then antlers appear, followed by a large head and wet nose. “This is Colleen, aka Comet. By day, she is one of Santa’s favorites. By night, she’s Colleen, a rowdy girl who tends to find joy in shoving her snout in my armpit until I scratch behind her ear. Isn’t that right, Colleen?” He reaches into the pen and scratches her ear, and by God, it’s the cutest thing I think I’ve ever seen.
A hot man loving on an animal, knowing the animal’s personality…I need to fan myself.
“She’s beautiful.” I reach in and stroke her cheek, fascinated by her wiry coat.
“She is. And this over here, her frenemy, is David, aka Dasher. David is the eater of the group and, if not separated, will eat everyone’s food.” I glance over into David’s pen and notice a rather large reindeer, broad in size though not tubby in the slightest. Just a beefy fella that I would not want to mess with.
“David looks like he gives off adon’t-mess-with-mevibe.”
“He does,” Cole says with a chuckle.
He brings me on down the line, introducing me to every reindeer andtelling me different stories about them. Petunia once ate his sleeve right off his flannel shirt. Tore it off and had zero regrets. Vincent is the oldest of the group with his white face and goatee. He’s the most docile and was here when Cole’s parents passed. They spent a lot of time together. Randy is the rowdiest. Beetle—one of the kids named him—doesn’t like anything to do with bells, Christmas, or chilly weather, which I think is funny. And so on. But my favorite is Rutabaga. One, for her name, and two, because every time she’s let out of her stall, she takes off cantering, does three circles around the corral, and then bows. They don’t know why or where she learned it, but she does it and I think that is fun.
“I can tell you love what you do, Cole.”
He nods as he leans against one of the poles in the barn. “I do. Sometimes the reindeer can be a pain in my ass, especially when Petunia thinks she can strip me out of my clothes, but I’m grateful for the job and the freedom.”
“Petunia needs to know there’s a new girl in town,” I say as I walk up to him and place my hand on his chest.
He rests his hands on my hips and pulls me in closer. “I’m not sure she’s going to like that. She really likes eating my clothes off.”
I chuckle and slip my hand up to his neck. “You know, it’s kind of disturbing when you say it like that.”
He grins and then tilts my chin up only to bring his lips to mine. He pauses, not closing the distance all the way, making me wait, but after a few beats, his mouth descends the rest of the way and I feel myself melting into him.
He lightly moans into my mouth, our tongues matching up, our desire sparking.
His hands grow tight on my hips while I start unbuttoning his flannel shirt, one button at a time, all the way down until I can flap it open, revealing his thick, strong chest.
He groans as I drag my nails across his pecs, feeling slightly unhinged at the possibility of having this man in the reindeer barn. His mouthcontinues to work mine as he untucks my shirt from my pants and then drags it up my body and over my head. Thank God it’s warm in here.
Then to my surprise, he spins me around and pushes me up against the wooden pole, my back against the firm wood. He takes a step back for a moment and runs his hand over his jaw as he takes me all in. It has to be one of the hottest perusals I’ve ever been witness to.
His eyes wander, looking me up and down, taking in the way my breath is heavy in my chest, the way my breasts rise and fall to my heartbeat. It’s intoxicating. And when he grins, I feel a dull throb start to erupt between my legs.
Cole Black knows exactly what he’s doing with those dangerous eyes, and I can’t get enough of it.
He walks past me, his hand grazing my stomach, and tells me to stay in place as he reaches a hook just a few feet away. I hear the clang of metal and then feel the smooth texture of leather glide down my arm.
Cole’s mouth is right next to my ear as he whispers, “I want to tie you up. You okay with that?”
I feel my nipples go hard as he drags the leather over my palms. “Y-yes,” I say quietly.
“Does the wood bother your back?” he asks. “Because I plan on fucking you hard, but I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“It’s smooth,” I say as he gathers my wrists and brings them around the pole and behind me. The wooden pole, although old and worn, has been covered in a clear coat of varnish, preserving the wood and creating a smooth surface rather than one that could leave splinters.
