Page 47 of A Very Naughty Christmas

Entranced by the vivid blue gazing back at her, she answered inanely, “There’s much to be said about enduring friendships, Kyle.”

“Fuck that, Dix, I’m not about to leave either of us hanging here and I’ll be damned if I’ll be relegated to the friend zone with you. Now, are you ready to shut up and be kissed?”

“I’m not the one runnin’ off at the mouth about myths and legends.”

His lips tipped up in a grin at her sass. “Mm. That can be easily remedied. Pucker up and give me some sugar, sugar.”

And she did, because he did.

The first touch was barely there and left her wanting more, but the next was entirelydifferent. Not because he devoured her mouth with the uncontrolled hunger of his passion, but because having been teased long enough, she turned the tables and did it to him first. Her fingers flew up to his head and sank into hair as thick as she’d always dreamed it was. And as she reveled in its silky soft texture, she gave all of herself to the kiss, freely. With a groan that vibrated into her mouth and sent the butterflies in the pit of her stomach into a wild swirl, he took control, sealing his lips over hers and bringing his tongue into play. Her desire sparked and ignited his own, which swept them up in an incredible passion that left them both breathless.

She was panting by the time he pulled away, letting them both come up for air. While she clung to him, her chest heaving, mind reeling that she was in his arms, bodies pressed together, Kyle recovered. His lips resumed moving over her skin with a light touch, along her cheek, along her jaw, and tracing a path of warm caresses the length of her throat.

“You taste as sweet as I’ve always imagined you would.”

“Kyle,” she breathed, stunned that his thoughts so closely mirrored her own. She was in trouble. He was trouble. And she needed to stop this, but she couldn’t, her muddled brain unable to think or will her body to move.

A loud banging echoed through the stairs as someone slammed through the door.

There was a startled male laugh and an “Oops, don’t mind me, Dr. Love.” Then footsteps thudded down the stairs as a chuckle floated up to them.

This brought her out of her lust-filled fog and back to the present.

“I’ve got to go.”

“Don’t.”

“I’m going to be late for a visit to my mother.”

“I’d like to see you again, Dixie. Have dinner with me. We’ll talk and clear up this confusion.”

She shook her head as she broke free of his arms, or, more likely, because he let her go. “It’s okay. You’re right. I’ve let an old grudge go on far too long.” She was straightening her clothes and smoothing her hair as she moved away.

“So have dinner with me.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“I’m, uh… I’ve got to go.” She was at the top of the stairs and reached out for the railing. Once her trembling hand had grasped it, she turned and began to descend. Although she willed herself not to, at the first landing, she glanced up.

He was standing at the top of the stairs where she’d left him, arms crossed over his chest, frowning as he watched her running away.

“I’ll see you again, darlin’. This isn’t over.”

“Um, I…” Realizing she sounded like an idiot, she snapped her mouth shut and continued down the stairs. When she was out of sight, she found her tongue and called back to him. “Thanks for the help with the cookies, Kyle. You have a merry Christmas.”

She practically ran down the rest of the steps, the taste and feel of his lips on hers still making them tingle. So easily, she could lose herself in his kiss, in his arms, in the intensity of the passion that flared between them like a flash fire. Yet, in the same way as a wildfire, ignited from a single spark, desire often burned quickly and left devastation in its wake. Both were dangerous, and reminded her of why she couldn’t go there with him; she wouldn’t. Not with him or anyone.

Chapter Four

Over the next several days, Dixie tried to keep Kyle’s image from popping into her head throughout the day. Much harder was suppressing the memories of the intense moments they’d spent together in the stairwell. While busy at work, she succeeded, mostly, but as soon as she closed her eyes each night, he invaded her dreams.

The nightly visions weren’t limited to a charming smile or a gentle caress, they were full-on naughty sex dreams. And having Kyle Prescott naked in her bed every night left her damp with sweat and aching between her thighs. She woke afterward—or in the middle, which was pure torture—and had to take care of that ache on her own before she could relax enough to go back to sleep. Occasionally, her needy body would wake her a few hours later with more of the same. It was exhausting.

Consequently, she was irritable at work and her tips were beginning to suffer.

To make matters worse, he started to come into the diner routinely. At first, he’d get a table in her section, but she’d get the other waitress to switch out. After the second time she did that, he asked for the other girl’s section deliberately. He’d sit quietly and eat, but she could feel him watching her while she worked. If a stranger did that, it would freak her out and likely she’d call the cops. But Kyle wasn’t the typical stalker, and it helped that he didn’t look the part. He wasn’t creepy with thinning hair and bad skin like in the movies, or in the mug shots on the six o’clock news. It was unsettling, however, bringing back the achy feeling that visited her nightly, and his smile made her heart race. And did he have to be so good looking? She couldn’t keep from sending him sidelong glances, taking in his beautiful blue eyes with their long inky-black lashes, or his full, gorgeous head of hair, or his smooth complexion, except for the scruff of beard he sported at the end of the day, which she found incredibly sexy.

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