Page 9 of Miss Christmas

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“Goddamn . . . I . . .” He ground out a low growling roar of pleasure as he slid his hand to the tip of his cock to squeeze every burst of cum from the tip. A perfect picture of her full lush lips parted and screaming with pleasure filled his exploding head. Letting go, his hands shook, and every muscle vibrated with tension as waves of ecstasy rolled through him. What kind of power did she have to make him feel this way, to make him lose control, to wander far, far outside of his comfort zone?

“Scarlet.” The foreign strain and intensity in his voice struck him. “What did you do to me?”

“Oh my god, oh my God.” She panted still, her voice scraping his nerves, making his cock jump.

He rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself to his knees, still holding the phone. Forcing his hand to stop shaking, he lifted himself upright, kneeling on the rumpled cum-stained plaid comforter. His face in the mirror reflected the state of his head. Wild and disheveled and glistening with sex and excitement. More alive than he’d felt in too long.

“Scarlet.” He paused and listened to her breathing as the gulps of air slowed. “Talk to me.” His voice sounded wounded. Why had he given her his card? Did he have the same self-destructive streak as his brother had had after all?

“Why did you give me your card?” she said, as if reading his mind, her voice calmer and softer. He had no answer.

“I don’t know. I—it was an impulse. You’re beautiful. No, more than that. You completely captivated me. Everything about you.” He paused and drifted, letting the words float from his mind to his mouth. “You’re a very dangerous woman, you know.”

A soft laugh, like she was running out of steam.

“Not nearly as dangerous as you are, Will. You’re impossible.”

He couldn’t figure what she meant. He was starting to fade, his eyes closing, everything in him exhausted. He said what he had to say.

“I’ll come by tomorrow to see you. Good night, Scarlet.”

“Good night, Will.”

He pressed the phone off and tossed it to the floor as he collapsed on the bed. Oblivion didn’t take long to find him.

Chapter 3

If he thought he was going to get away with going in to work late on the morning after his epic night of phone sex—his one and only night of phone sex—then he was mistaken. It was clear the moment he stepped off the elevator at 9:38 a.m. At the same time the elevator doors opened his phone beeped and he found himself looking at a post-shower photo of Scarlet wrapped in a towel. When he looked up, his assistant, Fran, stood with Margo just outside the elevator doors, facing him as if they’d been waiting for him, both wearing concerned frowns.

“We were wondering where you were—everything okay?” Margo asked.

“I’m fine. Can’t a guy sleep in once in a while?”

“Sure, but not if the guy is Will-the-Workaholic,” Fran said.

He stuffed his phone into his pants pocket as if he wanted Scarlet’s picture near his overexcited and suddenly frustrated dick. He walked toward his office. The two women followed.

Stopping at the coffeepot on the way, he poured himself a large mug of black super-duper roast or whatever the one that looked the strongest was called. He was no connoisseur, but he needed the juice to get himself focused, to rein himself in. Though he had no idea whether drinking coffee would cure what he had going on. A Scarlet-Jones-induced hard-on that wouldn’t quit, that popped up at the thought of her, at the remembrance of her throaty voice and her very loud screams of passion.

He took a long swig of the coffee. Too bad it wasn’t iced coffee. It would have done him more good to dump it down his pants. Fran and Margo were waiting for him in his office when he walked in.

“The view in my office better than yours, Margo? Two days in a row I find you here waiting for me. It’s a good thing I’m not the paranoid type.”

“You know I only want to help you,” she slipped a glance at Fran before continuing, “with this project.”

Will sighed. “It’s no big deal. You can spill the beans to Fran that you’re trying to match-make. You wouldn’t be the first person.” He glared at Fran.

“Hey, it’s only because we love you, William,” Fran said, mockery dripping and eyes twinkling. “You’re a catch and we want to make sure you get caught by the right girl.”

“Sure. But what’s the hurry? It’s not like I’m an old geezer. I’m only thirty-three.”

Margo lifted her shoulders in a shrug and shifted in her chair. “It’s not your age I’m worried about.” Her words were quiet and struck him all the harder. His grandma. At close to ninety years old, she was slipping away. Playing the grandma card was a dirty cheap trick, but damn if it didn’t work. Margo cleared her throat.

“Let’s get down to business.”

He sat behind his desk and pulled the folders from the drawer. After shuffling through them the night before, he’d picked the ten finalists. Including Scarlet. But that had been before the epic phone call of forbidden desires had happened.