Page 3 of His Heart for Christmas

?She’s more confident, even if she’s not assertive.

?Something in my chest expands uncomfortably and I shake my head. I clear my throat. “Are you looking for a tree?”

?“My mom asked me to check to see what you have, as if she doesn’t know you always have the best trees,” she says with a little shrug. She rubs her arms, then over her sides. “Jeeze, I think it’s getting colder.”

?She needs to leave. Every time the wind blows she steps closer to me and her curves are harder to ignore. Her perfect, perky breasts, her very grabbable hips, the way I want to drown myself in her scent and feel her knitted sweater against my skin.

?I glance down at her boots and notice skin. My eyes sharpen and my voice comes out angrier than I intended, “are you not wearing pants? In this weather? Emma you-”

?“They’re leggings,” she says, then grabs the fabric and pulls it away from her thigh before it snaps back in place,stretched around her toned legs. “They’re fleece lined. Honestly, my thighs are warmest right now. I should have worn something under my dress.”

?My cock twitches. Since when do conversations about clothes make me hard? Even if it’s about Emma’s warm, toned thighs and what she’s wearing under that tight knitted sweater dress. Fuck, I bet she’s this sweet and soft in bed too. She’d be better to fall asleep with thanmy pillows.

?She adjusts the top of her sweater dress, showing her collar bone as she tries to pull her dress up to cover her neck. Of course, it shows more of her thighs too. She’s either utterly unaware or blatantly flirting and I don’t know which I like less.

?Guilt tinges at my nerves. I’m nearly forty and she’s just starting her adult life. I haven’t had any reaction, haven’t wanted any woman since my wife died, despite my friends trying to set me up.

?Emma can’t be the first one to make me hard, especially when she’s not even trying. Shakin my head of the thought, I walk her over to the front and offer her my jacket. “If you’re staying to look for a tree, put this on.”

?She stumbles slightly and braces herself against my chest, her hand spreading. Her heat sinks into me as her eyes meet mine. She pants, soft plumes of white fog leaving her lips in the dropping temperature.

?“I, um ...” her whole face goes red as she keeps touching me, looking up at me as if I’m something brand new, shiny, perfect.

My stomach tightens and I fight with myself. Younger, too innocent, too sweet, not mine, she doesn’t mean it.I don’t want it. I repeat each reason to ignore her and this, but I knowthat last one is a lie considering my dick is rubbing against the back of my zipper with determination.

“Sorry, Josh. I guess my boots aren’t great for uneven land. I should ... I should go home.”

“Without a tree?” I ask, staring her down.

“I can come back when there are more helpers. You’re already swamped and I’m not in the right clothes to work ... today. We’ll see about tomorrow,” she says all in one breath.

She pushes off me, her eyes dipping to her fingers as they brush over my tank top. I stand rooted to the spot, watching her walk away. When she looks over at me, biting her bottom lip, it’s like my heart is beating for the first time all over again. I suck in a useless breath and shove a hand in my pocket, trying to get my dick and whatever this new, dangerous, unfamiliar feeling is, under control.

I can’t want Emma Thompson. I have a list of reasons that make it very clear.

And one lie ... a lie that’s going to damn me.

Chapter 3 - Emma

Josh’s expressions keep playing in my head. He was pissed about something, surprised about something else, but his eyes were so alive. So vibrant. Even if he didn’t give me a smile, even if his jaw barely relaxed the whole time we spent together, I think he wants more.

I can’t shake the scent of his cologne (so masculine and fresh), the view of him tossing trees around like they were nothing, or his gaze from my mind. It’s the only excuse I have for adjusting my covers in bed, closing my eyes and letting my hands trail over my body.

Massaging one breast, my other hand slips down over my belly and between my legs. I think of his hard chest, his intense blue eyes, and his thick, strong fingers. I needhisfingers stroking my clit as he purrs my name against my ear, tells me how beautiful I look, promises me he’ll warm me up like this all winter.

Thrusting two fingers into my pussy, I gasp and arch. I can practically feel his stubble against my chest, feel his hot breath running over my skin as he tries to restrain himself and make me feel good first. A soft whimper leaves my throat as I add a third finger.

Josh would be rougher, more intense, so my hands obey. I pinch my nipple hard, biting my pillow to stifle the mewling groan that leaves my throat as I curl my fingers against my g-spot. Every thrust makes me want to pant his name, makes my fantasy of him on top of me more real.

?He’d order, notaskme to come for him. He’d tell me to be a good girl, to enjoy it, to come and keep coming because he’s just getting started with me and –

?I arch back as my thighs clamp around my hand. I cover my mouth, hoping my moans stay locked up in my room with me as I come. I whisper his name against my palm, then moan it when just that added hint of him makes my orgasm rocket higher.

?When I come down from my pleasure, I feel ... wrong in a way. Like somehow Josh will know what I just did.

But I doubt he’d care if he did. He treated me like any other customer today, wanted me to buy, seemed worried that I didn’t. Sure, he’s gruff and grumpy by nature, but I would be too if I was doing the work of six people every day. He could use some help and even if I can’t manhandle trees on my own, I’d help him and I’d have something to do with my free time.

As I clean up, I nibble my bottom lip. Maybe if I work with him, I won’t fantasize about him constantly. Maybe ... just maybe I could see what’s under all that coldness in his eyes.

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