Jingle This! (12 page)

"Stop it!" He backed up, stumbling over a bin of bikini underwear. "My mother is not wearing that."

Angie grinned as she walked across the store to where Kyle was hiding. "If I was in your bed, would you rather I was wearing this flannel nightgown—" She held up the item he'd thrust at her so mercilessly. "—or this sexy little number?" It really wasn't even that sexy. Demure, with a little bit of naughtiness mixed in.

Kyle's eyes went black. "You? I'd take you naked."

Electricity jolted through her and desire pooled in her belly. Not just desire. Raw, pulsating need and want. Uh, oh… Angie swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. She had to stay focused. Nothing good could come of discussing her nakedness with Kyle. "Before you got me naked," she clarified. "As a male, would you prefer your woman to be in flannel or silk?"

His gaze was so intense she felt like he could see right through her clothes to the matching black lace panties and bra she'd put on this morning to try to get in the romance mood. "Silk." His voice was husky, deep, and sent chills down her spine.

She took a deep breath. "Well, then, that's what we should get for your mom. She's a woman like I am, and your stepdad is a man like you."

"I'm not thinking about my mom." But it wasn't a protest. It was an arrogant statement that said very clearly who he
was
thinking about.

She lifted her chin and took a step toward him. She knew she was playing with fire, but she couldn't stop herself. She didn't
want
to stop herself. "You couldn't even begin to imagine what I'd be like in your bed," she said, letting her voice go a little soft and throaty. "So don't bother guessing."

His hands snaked out and grabbed her waist, hauling her up against him before she could step away. "Tell me." His lips were hovering over hers, his breath mingling with hers. "Tell me what you'd be like in my bed, Angie."

She braced her hands on his arms, desire leaping through her at the feel of his muscles beneath her hands. Hard. Like steel. Raw, manly, steel. Oh, Lordy. She was in way over her head. Not that she could let him know it. She couldn't let him know that he could still get to her. "Words can't do it justice," she managed to say. "I'd have to show you."

His grip tightened on her hips, and his gaze went to her lips. "Then show me." His voice was husky and hoarse, as if he were being tormented by the vision of her naked in his bed.

Oh, God.
Show him?
Suddenly, the image of his bed flashed through her mind. Those tousled sheets. The mattress sinking beneath her weight as he set her on the bed… Heat flushed her skin and she let him pull her closer, so her belly was pressed against his. "Show you? I'd love to."

He sucked in his breath and he locked a hand behind the back of her neck, pulling her closer. Holy crap. He was going to kiss her! Right in the store in front of everyone!

No, no, no. She couldn't do this. She'd never recover. She set one hand on his chest, blocking him. "Sorry, but that's not going to happen." At the frustrated look in his eyes, she couldn’t help but add a little tease by trailing her finger over his lips. "I've already resolved that I wouldn't allow you to inspire me anymore."

"I'm not talking about inspiring anyone. I just want you. This has nothing to do with work." His fingers were stroking the back of her neck now, a sensual caress that was sending chills down her spine.

Oh, wow. Was this moment simply about them? About the heat burning up the air between them? Not about work or her stories? Did he want her the way she wanted him, pure and simple? Not that there was anything simple about the feelings racing through her.

No, no, no, she couldn't do this! She couldn’t get involved with him.

"I can't kiss you," she whispered. The finger she'd been trailing over his lips was suddenly in his mouth, caught in a suckling whirlwind of moist heat. "Um..."

"You're the one who brought it up." His voice was hoarse, tight, his tongue winding around her fingertip.

"Brought what up?" How could he speak with her fingers in his mouth? He must do that a lot—suck on women's fingers. An expert. Fierce jealousy roared through her at the idea of Kyle with other women. She had a sudden, burning need to claim him, to make him hers, to imprint herself onto him so no other woman would ever be able to compete with her in his mind.

Oh, damn. That wasn't good. She didn't want to be having possessive thoughts about Kyle!

"You. Me. My bed. Nakedness," he said, lowering his head until his mouth was a fraction of an inch from hers. "You brought it all up."

She could feel the warmth of his breath on her lips, the heat of his mouth, the intensity of his persona. Anticipation rushed through her, followed by an almost insatiable need, and she knew he was doing it on purpose. Seducing her without even kissing her. The man knew what he was doing.

She'd never been ravished by an expert lover before. With the stories Heidi told about Quinn's talents in the bedroom, Angie was well aware that she'd been missing out. Maybe that was why she couldn't write the romance stories for Swift. Because she hadn't truly experienced mind-numbing lovemaking.

Perhaps in the name of research...

Oh, no. What was she thinking?

Shopping for diamonds? A way to find out what really makes your true love tick.

–Angie Miller, somewhat less anti-diamond

One quick kiss. Just to assess whether he was truly an expert. To see what it would be like to surrender to him for just a brief moment. And to prove it was lust, not love, that was making her nipples snap to attention.
You can do it, Angie.

She let the nightgowns drop to the floor, mashed her hands into the front of his jacket and tugged him down toward her.

He came.

And when his lips caught hers, there was no doubt about the fire racing through her body. Oh, God. Every cell in her body was exploding with heat that seemed to cascade like fireworks. More, more. She needed more.

Kyle hooked his arm around her back and hauled her against him, dominating the kiss, as if he were as desperate for her as she was for him. It wasn't simply a kiss. It was the culmination of three years of wanting, finally unleashed. There was no holding back, no restraint, just raw, unyielding need for more.

She pressed her body against his, trying to squeeze every last inch of contact into the kiss. More kiss, more tongue.
More Kyle.

This was it. Kyle was what she wanted. It didn't matter if he was going to break her heart, or if she was falling too soon into the arms of another man before she'd proven she didn't need a male muse to write. All that mattered was him.

"Excuse me. Are you going to be buying one of those?"

The interruption broke through the spell Kyle was weaving around them, a cold wind breaking through the warmth that had been cradling her so securely. Argh! Was it any wonder she'd always hated salespeople? Did it look like she needed a commission-based piranha assisting her right now?

But Kyle broke the kiss and dropped his hands from her body. Angie growled and glared at the saleswoman with her precious beige suit and her overly cheerful smile. Yeah, okay, so she was definitely not enjoying her first moment of sexual frustration.

Kyle muttered something and retrieved the garments from the floor, giving Angie a moment to take a deep breath and let her blood stop bubbling. By the time he was handing the flannel nightgown to the saleswoman, Angie had regained control of her brain. "No, he's buying this one." She put the silk one into the saleswoman's hand. "You know men. They think their moms aren't sexual beings."

The saleswoman's plastered smile faltered slightly, but recovered nicely. "All women love to feel sexy."

"Exactly." She stepped on Kyle's toe when he started to protest and distracted him with a glaring contest long enough for the saleswoman to march over to her register and start ringing him up.

Kyle handed over his credit card. "You know I'm going to return this tomorrow."

"Don't. Your mom will love it, and she'll feel great that you think of her as a young, sexy woman."

He looked pained. "She's my mother. I've never thought of her as sexy."

"You know what I mean." She shoved at his chest. Mmm...what a nice chest. She would so love to spend a few minutes licking every inch of it… Oh, God. Had she really thought that? That one kiss had been her moment to become inspired. There would be no more. "Don't you want to make your mom feel happy?"

"Not at the expense of me being able to sleep at night." He took the bag from the saleswoman. "My turn now."

His turn? For what? Doing some chest-licking?
There's a dressing room over to the right. I'd be happy to rip off my clothes for you...

"We're going to Tiffany's." He shot her a look. "Why do you look so unhappy?"

"I thought you were going to proposition me."

His eyebrows shot up as he held the door for her. "You did?"

"Well, sure. Your tongue seemed pretty happy in my mouth." So she sounded pouty? It was all the saleswoman's fault. And to think they'd given her a sale. She realized Kyle wasn't walking next to her anymore. She turned around to find him standing in the doorway of Macy's, a comical look of lust and confusion on his face.

Apparently, he was still adjusting to the notion that he wanted her body, and it wasn't just to make sure she wrote a good story. She wasn't foolish enough to think he wanted
her,
as in, to love and cherish forever, but raw, animal sex was definitely on his brain right now.

Wow. She'd never had raw, animal sex before. Heidi would be so jealous.

She walked back and tucked her arm in his. "Let's go to Tiffany's. I promise not to scare you with any more sex talk." For at least ten minutes.

Angie decided not to make conversation on the way to Tiffany's. She would let Kyle obsess about that hot kiss, and the visions of her and nakedness and his bed.

* * *

By the time they got to Tiffany's, Angie's blood pressure had returned to normal and her brain was functioning again. Enough to realize that having sex with Kyle would be a very bad idea. Why? Because she'd fallen for him again. One hundred percent. She was in love. He was barely in lust. It was the perfect recipe for splattered heart number two. He'd already proven he was quite the talent with using a butcher knife and turning her heart into mincemeat.

Making love to him would be too much for her to deal with, at least when he got up in the morning and sent her on her merry way.

Besides, she had too much pride. There would be no prostituting herself for a heartless man. Plus, she still needed to find her muse, and it wasn't going to be a man.

So there it was. An extensive list of reasons not to have sex with Kyle.

Thank heavens for that saleswoman interrupting them before they dropped to the carpet and consummated their dysfunctional relationship right there in Macy's.

So, there we go. Moment over. Time to focus on jewelry. Diamonds. Work.

Taking a deep breath and armed with resolution, Angie stepped inside and scanned the store. There were display cases everywhere. Customers oozing wealth. The residual feelings of contentment over her excellent decision not to go for a roll in the hay with Kyle were replaced by a sensation of yuck.

Not that jewelry was a bad thing, but it was the bane of her existence right now. Plus, it wasn't as if some hot lover was going to surprise her with a light blue box on December twenty-fifth. Nope, she was not in the mood to be shopping there. She'd have to find her muse somewhere else. "Okay, I've seen enough. Ready to go?"

"No." Kyle took her arm and walked her further into the store. "Look at those pine boughs. They must be twenty feet long."

She gave a cursory glance upward. "Yeah, I guess." Being at Tiffany's and surrounded by all the gorgeous jewelry was like having someone chant "you suck at writing about diamonds" repeatedly until her head fell off. There were couples everywhere, plus countless men in their overcoats buying gifts for their wives, or girlfriends, or mistresses. Or maybe they were buying diamonds to appease their wives who just found out about their girlfriends. See? Diamonds weren't about true love. They were about enabling people to get away with bad things because they'd be forgiven if they put a rock on someone's finger. Or in their ears. Or around their neck.

Yeesh. No wonder she couldn't write a brilliant story.
Nice attitude, Angie.
It really would behoove her to get it together, huh?

Then again…what if sex with Kyle helped her attitude? The kiss had been amazing. Maybe he could sweep her up into a fantasy world of inspiration and bliss…until he dumped her.

Yeah, there was that. So maybe not such a good choice, regardless of how appealing that fantasy was.

"And check out the Christmas tree in the corner," Kyle said, relentlessly pushing holiday cheer onto her. "How tall do you think that is?"

She dragged her eyes to the corner. The tree was actually pretty gorgeous, if she was in the frame of mind to appreciate such things. No. She
was
in the mood to appreciate the holidays, and if she had to superglue garlands to her forehead to remind herself of that fact, then she would. "That beautifully decorated tree is a wonderful reflection of the fabulous holiday season. It must be close to at least ten feet."

"No way. That thing has to be at least fifteen feet." Kyle threw his arm around her shoulder and guided her into the store, peering at the first display case on the right. "Look at that diamond. Love the setting."

She glanced at him. "Do you have any idea what you're talking about?"
Shrug his arm off your shoulder, Angie.

No. I like it there.

Too bad. You already made that decision, didn't you?

"Of course I know what I'm talking about," Kyle said. "I've bought five engagement rings already. I'm an expert."