Page 39 of Santa Maybe
“I’m good, thanks.” He glanced around her apartment. “Is this place all yours? No roommates?”
“Just me. I was able to afford it when I got promoted to assistant manager. Before that, I shared a three-bedroom apartment with a couple of friends, but one of them got married, and the other moved to Vancouver.”
It wasn’t much—just a one-bedroom place that was barely 700 square feet, with a galley kitchen, a tiny living room, and an even tinier balcony. But the building was located in Cook Street Village, a safe, walkable neighborhood filled with cute restaurants, pubs, and shops. She’d enhanced the small living space with a hodgepodge of vintage prints, Mexican ceramics, candles, and colorful throw blankets.
He walked over to a tall bookcase, where she’d filled one shelf with framed photographs of her family. “It’s nice. I’ll bet you love coming here at the end of the day.”
“I do. It’s my little refuge. Hang tight, and I’ll be back in a sec.”
She went into her bedroom and shut the door behind her. After shucking off her boots, she removed her bike shorts and the ugly green tights and set them beside the bed. But when she reached for the zipper in the back of the dress, she couldn’t get it to budge. She yanked on it a little harder and…nothing. Cursing, she sat down on her bed to get more leverage. Still stuck. She was tempted to pull harder but didn’t want to rip the fabric and ruin the costume. Giving a grunt of frustration, she stood and opened the door to her room.
“Drew? Can you help me with the zipper?”
“Sure.” He walked over to the doorway. By now, he’d taken off his hat and beard but was still wearing the Santa suit.
She turned around so her back was to him. “Can you undo it? I think it got caught on the fabric.”
Standing beside her, his warmth was palpable. As he reached for the zipper, his hand brushed the back of her neck, making her shiver. His touch felt so good that she wished he’d take his sweet time, but he freed the zipper easily. He tugged on it again, only to have it snag halfway down her back.
“It’s still stuck,” he muttered. “Hold still, and I’ll try to unzip you without wrecking the whole costume.”
Other than her bra, she wasn’t wearing anything under the bodice, which meant her bare back was exposed to him. She sucked in her breath, quivering as his fingers grazed her skin. A flare of need flooded her entire body. She wanted him to keep touching her but without the confining costume in the way.
He pulled down the zipper until it landed above the waistline of her panties. “I think you’re good, but I’ll let you finish changing. I don’t want to do something we’ll both regret.”
She swallowed, her mouth dry. Turning to face him, she inched the costume past her hips until it pooled at her bare feet. “What if Iwon’tregret it?”
Seventeen
Rosie knewshe’d gone too far. She was alone with Drew in her bedroom, clad only in a lacy red bra and panties, an elf costume at her feet. And he was still dressed as Santa. She felt like she was acting out a scene from one of Selena’s steamy holiday romances.
He gave a short laugh. “Is this because I’m wearing the suit? Maybe it’s time you switched to another set of fantasies.”
If she wanted, she could brush off her comment or treat it like a joke. But she’d spent all week thinking about last Saturday’s kisses and aching for Drew’s touch. One time couldn’t hurt, could it?
She stepped out of the costume and pressed her hands against his chest. “This isn’t about the suit. True, you’re the hottest Santa I’ve ever seen, but I don’t want Santa. I want you, Drew Richardson.”
She was trembling all over, afraid he’d turn her down. If asking for a kiss was bending the rules, then begging for more was breaking them completely.
“I want you, too,” he murmured. “But this isn’t part of the deal.”
“It could be, right? Since we’re already friends, why can’t we be friends with benefits? At least until the holidays end?”
Seriously, Rosie? What makes you think you can do this and not get hurt?
She’d never been the type to indulge in casual hookups or one-night stands. For her, giving someone her body usually meant giving them her heart as well. But Drew was right here, and she’d wanted him for weeks. Based on the passion he’d shown her last weekend, she suspected he felt the same way.
“We’ve both been under so much stress,” she said. “Wouldn’t it be nice to shut out the world and blow off a little steam?”
“Hell, yes. But I don’t want to hurt you, especially since I can’t offer you anything more.”
She toyed with the buttons of his Santa coat. “I know. I’m not asking for more.”
Was she shortchanging herself?
No.This would benefit them both. Even if she’d felt a surge of love for him at the shelter, she could lock up those feelings tight. She just wanted to indulge in a little physical pleasure. Surely, she could make that happen without losing her heart to him.
He smoothed his hand against her cheek. “You’re worth so much more than a fling. You know that, right?”
