Page 8 of Her First Noel

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“Put your seat belt on.” I lean in, covering her legs with my suit jacket and her scent once again raging through me like a fire, agonizing, searing my flesh as it warms me, making hot blood surge to my thickening dick.

She clicks the belt on, and I close the door, making my way to the driver’s side and getting myself behind the wheel.

Once I’ve started the car and got us moving, I shift myself in my seat, my uncomfortable hard on making it difficult to drive. Holly finally breaks the silence with her soft voice.

“Thank you.” She murmurs, and I turn to see soft eyes. “Back there. You’re right. Sometimes, I need to not be so nice.”

I nod. “It’s one thing to want to be on the nice list, but sometimes the naughty list is where you need to be.”

She giggles and I so badly want her to know how I feel. How in love with her I am and have been all these years.

But fuck, she’s so young. She’s my best friend and business partner’s little girl. He’d hate me forever. It would wreck our business.

Besides, what’s a young, gorgeous, smart girl like her going to do with an old asshole like me?

Nothing.

Exactly.

Still, I can’t help thinking, we’re here.

Alone.

Together.

I swallow hard and all the rational reasons I shouldn’t do what I’m about to do evaporate.

This may be my only shot.

I’m not going to miss.

Four

Holly

I CAN’T BELIEVE I THOUGHT I looked good in this outfit.

Tugging at the hem of the skirt as Cole walks behind me into the house doesn’t make me feel any less naked, and I hurry inside, laying my coat over one of the chairs at my dad’s kitchen table.

“Thanks for the ride.” I cross my arms over my chest shivering then release them when my boobs practically pop out of the top of my sweater.

“Sure.”

My stomach flutters as he walks into the great room, leaning down to put some logs in the fireplace.

“Umm,” I start. “You don’t have to do that. I’m sure you have better things to do with the rest of your evening. I’ll be fine, really.”

He keeps doing what he’s doing, while I fidget with the neckline of my sweater, pulling it up. Then back down.

Then up again.

I watch as he stacks the logs. His firm body easily maneuvering around, then crouching down as he stuffs newspaper under the grate and lights the paper. A few minutes later, the logs crackling and he stands, clearing his throat and giving me a solid, unapologetic stare.

“What?” I ask when his look goes on a few beats longer than is comfortable.

“You grew up.” He looks uncomfortable as he walks past me to the couch and sits down.

“Yeah. I guess. Everyone does.”

“You’re dressed different. You dress like that while you were in Philly?” There’s a catch in his voice, and I’m not sure if it’s concern or judgment, but my defenses raise.

“No—” I start, then catch myself and draw a quick breath. “I mean, not really. I just wanted to dress up tonight. For…” I think twice before I finish. “…the party.”

“Really?” He eyes me up and down, and it feels like my nerves are on fire. “For the party.”

My nervousness turns to shame and I turn my gaze to the floor. “I know it doesn’t look good on me. I tried, not everyone can be an Amanda.” I spit out the last words, remembering how she was all over Cole when I walked in. “Guess that’s more your thing.”

I immediately regret the last words as they ring with jealousy. His hard gaze makes me feel more and more awkward, and I start to talk just to hide my discomfort.

“Not that I blame you. She’s every guy’s fant—”

“That’s not more my thing.” His voice is hard. “I was hoping you wore what you wore for me.”

“What?” It takes me a minute to process his statement. My breath comes faster and my heart is about to leap from my chest.

“You heard me. But, you know what I’d rather see?”

I shake my head, completely unsure what’s happening right now.

“You. Right here.” He points at a spot just in front of him, where he’s sitting leaning back, long legs open. “Taking off those clothes. For me.”

My cheeks burn as he stares at me silently. “Is this a joke?” I’m suddenly shaking but it’s not from the chilly weather and what I see in his eyes is not humor.

“No joke.” His voice is demanding and serious as he brings a hand to his crotch, the bulge there unmistakable. “My dick doesn’t joke.”

I can see the length of him, pressing all the way up to his belt, and I don’t know what to say or do. Warmth travels over my skin as I swallow hard and Cole looks at me like I’m dessert.


Tags: Dani Wyatt Romance