Chasing Christmas Eve

  lightly scraping her fingernails up into his hair, giving him goose bumps, among other things.

  “Can I use your gym shower?” she asked. “Or am I allowed in your personal space now that you’ve had your merry way with me? Many times over now . . .” She brushed her mouth across his earlobe, laughing softly in his ear when he tightened his grip on her hips.

  And then suddenly she had like eight hands and they were everywhere. “Colbie—”

  “Colbie,” she said, mimicking his lower tone. “You sound very serious now, Spence. Have I been bad? Am I in trouble?”

  Jesus. He nudged—maybe pushed—her into his bedroom.

  “Ooh, the man cave,” she purred.

  —And then into his bathroom. He gave her another nudge toward the shower and tried to step out.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “To order food.”

  “What kind of food?”

  “All the food,” he said. “Unless you have a preference. What are you hungry for?”

  She smiled a man-eating smile and he groaned.

  And got harder.

  He pointed at her. “Behave.” And then he left the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He leaned back against it and swiped his forehead. “I’m fucked.”

  “Yes. I’m pretty sure that’s her plan.”

  Spence turned his head and found Caleb standing there, eating out of another Tupperware that Spence knew damn well had come from his fridge. “What the hell?”

  Caleb shoved in a bite of what looked like Trudy’s famous chicken enchiladas and groaned in pleasure. “Turns out that Colbie’s not the only one who’s hungry.”

  “How long have you been here?” Spence demanded.

  “Since before you. Neither of you even noticed me. And why are you standing here griping at me for eating your food instead of getting into the shower with the Stoned One? She’s hot.”

  Spence opened his front door and jerked his chin toward it.

  Caleb blew out a breath. “Fine. But I’m taking the enchiladas with me.” He turned back. “And you’re an idiot if you don’t go take what that woman is offering you.”

  Spence shut the door on Caleb’s nosy nose just as Colbie came out of his bathroom. She was wearing the bathrobe his mom had bought him a couple of Christmases ago that he’d never worn—and bright blue toenail polish. That was it. He watched with a mix of lust and wry amusement as she sauntered straight to his pantry and helped herself to not one but three bags of chips.

  She hopped up on the counter, opened all three bags, and began a smorgasbord, stuffing her face for a few solid minutes before going still, a handful of chips paused in the air halfway to her mouth. “I think I’m a little stoned.”

  He smiled. “You think?”

  “No, I mean . . .” She shook her head. “I was sure I wasn’t. I didn’t feel anything.”

  “Honey, you’re about as high as my drone can fly, which is nearly out of the stratosphere.”

  She ate a few more chips, closing her eyes and groaning. “Oh. My. God. Where have . . .?” She straightened out one of the bags and read the label. “Salt and vinegar. Where have salt and vinegar chips been hiding my whole life?”

  Spence took a bottle of water from the fridge, removed the top, and handed it over to her.

  She downed it and then went back to the chips. “You don’t by any chance have any dip, do you?”

  “No. But . . .” Spence pulled out a stack of takeout menus and handed them to her. “Take your pick and I’ll order.”

  She tossed the menus aside and grabbed him by the shirt and hauled him in close. “I want to order you. You smell so good, Spence. You always smell so good.”

  He planted a hand on either side of her hips to keep an arm’s length between them, but she had a good grip on his shirt with one hand, her other placed precariously low on his abs. Wrapping her legs around his waist to further trap him, she crossed her ankles at the small of his back.

  “Colbie.” He both laughed and groaned. “You said you’re hungry.”

  “Yes, but not for food.” She pressed her face against his throat and inhaled him like he was a ten-course meal.

  His entire body went on high alert, sensing action within its grasp. He slid his hands up her arms to take ahold of her wrists, bringing them down to her sides.

  “Mmmm,” she said, taking a lick of him as she wriggled. “I don’t remember feeling this . . . trembly with anyone else. You’d think I’d remember, right? I mean, sex is always nice and all, but this, with you, it feels a lot more than nice.” She lifted her head, her eyes guileless and a little worried. “Do you know what I mean?”

  He did, although he felt like he was eavesdropping on her personal thoughts, letting her tell him things like that when she was under the influence. “Colbie—”

  “Uh-oh,” she said. “You don’t know what I mean. Well, that’s embarrassing.” She tried to shift away but he caught her.

  “No, I do,” he said. He knew exactly. “But, Colbie—”

  She wriggled against him some more, during which time he kept a tight grip on her because if he let her go, he was afraid of what she’d convince him to do. “You’re not yourself,” he said. “I don’t want to take advantage, but I’m only human—” He broke off on a groan when she squirmed some more, humming when she came in contact with the proof of what she did to him, cradling him in the wedge between her thighs.

  God help him. She was sexy and cute and sweet all in one package, and she had some moves too. “Honey—” He broke off when his phone buzzed an incoming call.

  Colbie pulled back, eyes at half-mast as she smiled up at him. “You taste really good. You should answer your phone, Spence. Maybe your mom or grandpa needs you.”

  He didn’t bother to point out that his family wasn’t like hers. The Baldwins didn’t need each other. They worked very hard to be independent. Stupidly so. Plus they’d just seen his grandpa. The man was a menace but fine.

  “Seriously,” Colbie said, her eyes so deep and earnest that he did what he’d told himself not to do again—he pulled out his phone and answered without looking at the screen. “Baldwin.”

  “Spence,” a male voice said. “Don’t hang up.”

  Spence stilled at the sound of Brandon’s voice, then backed away from Colbie and turned from her.

  “We need to talk,” Brandon said.

  “Sure. When hell freezes over.”

  “Seriously, man. My boss wants a follow-up, and I know what you’re going to say but think about it. It could be really great for you too.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Spence said.

  Brandon dropped the charm. “Look, I did you a favor with that article. I put you on the map with all the exposure.”

  “We were friends. You knew I didn’t want any of it.”

  “If we’d been friends, I wouldn’t have had to beg for the article in the first place. Look, you were the golden boy. A’s in every class. All the teachers loved you, whatever. You were untouchable, man, never needing anyone or anything. So yeah, you threw me a bone and then gave me a boring interview that you could’ve given any Joe Blow, big fucking deal. The real sign of friendship would be you giving me a follow-up.”

  Spence actually laughed. “Do us both a favor, Brandon, and lose my number.” He disconnected the call and then, for shits and giggles, blocked Brandon’s number. When he shoved the phone away and turned back to Colbie, she was walking down the hall, clearly trying to give him privacy.

  Which at the moment was the last thing he needed.

  Chapter 19

  #SonOfASeacock

  Colbie walked into Spence’s bathroom. The brownies were starting to wear off, leaving her tired and feeling bad about Spence. She’d gotten accidentally high, and possibly a little obnoxiously sexually aggressive, and she’d forgotten their date.

  “Son of a seacock,” she said, disrobing and then bending to pick up the clothes she’d left on the floor. T
hey were wrinkled but they’d do, she thought, just as she heard Spence speak, his voice low and gravelly, like how it sounded whenever he was aroused. “And cock isn’t a bad word?” he asked.

  Whirling to him, she caught the slow scan of his eyes, making her incredibly aware of what she was wearing.

  Or rather, not wearing. “Body parts aren’t bad words,” she whispered.

  His expression made her hot in very specific places that she now knew he could make very happy. He scooped up the robe and handed it to her.

  “Sorry,” she said, clutching it to her. “I was just going to get dressed.”

  His gaze locked in on something behind her and he groaned before coming toward her.

  “The mirror,” he said, his voice still a full octave lower than usual, which meant it was almost inaudibly gruff as he pulled the robe from her fingers to wrap it around her shoulders, waiting while she slid her arms into the sleeves before he belted it for her.

  She craned her neck, caught sight of the full-length mirror that had most likely afforded him a hell of a view, especially when she’d bent over, and grimaced. “Holy Hostess.”

  He chuckled but his eyes were heated. Very, very heated.

  “I left to give you some privacy for your call,” she said. “It seemed . . .” intense “. . . private.”

  “Forget the call.” He stroked her hair from her temple. “You still hungry?”

  She nodded, suddenly a lot sober and also a little unsure of herself and her footing here. She’d come on pretty strong, and yet he hadn’t made a move.

  But in the times that they’d been together, it’d all been magic and she wanted more of that magic. She’d hoped they’d continue to enjoy her last week in town to full capacity, but maybe he didn’t feel the same way. She didn’t realize she’d spoken that last part aloud until he spoke.

  “Colbie. Look at me.”

  Nope. She didn’t want to do that.

  He pulled her in against him, slid his fingers into her hair, and tugged her face up to his.

  She tried to pull away but . . . “Oh,” she breathed, feeling him hard as a rock against her.

  “Yeah, proof positive. I want you so bad that I no longer have any blood left in my brain. By now you know that I’m not any more experienced at this navigating relationship stuff than you are, right? So maybe you could have some mercy on me for being a fumbling idiot. I was trying to be a good guy tonight.”

  She found a laugh and he stared at her, the corner of his mouth quirking slightly. “You think my condition’s funny?” he asked.

  “No, I think we’re both idiots.” She went up on tiptoes and kissed him. “I understand your restraint and while it’s admirable, there’s something you should know.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I want you to take advantage of me.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed into him. “And I want it bad too. I get that the proof of my wanting isn’t as . . . evident as yours, but I’m quite certain you could find it if you searched hard enough.”

  She was pretty sure he stopped breathing at that. And so did she. A moment ago, he’d taken a call that had plummeted his mood about a hundred degrees. She was hoping to turn that around for him. Slowly, she slid her hands beneath his shirt, feeling the hard planes of his abs, which made her quiver. Yum, and she paused, thinking north or south? Both, she decided, but once again he sucked in a breath.

  “You’re still under the influence,” he said, voice very strained.

  Poor baby. “So heroic and gentlemanly,” she murmured. Sweet, but not necessary. She was a big girl, and she was also a careful girl. But she needed this. Needed him. “I’m running at full capacity, Spence,” she promised, humming in pleasure when his hands went to her hips to rock them against his.

  “How do you know?” he asked, voice not quite steady when her fingers continued to map his body . . .

  “Well,” she said thoughtfully, “I could prove it by walking a straight line or singing the alphabet or . . .” she ran her fingers down the front of his button-fly Levi’s “. . . getting you to talk about the phone call that seemed to bother you.”

  “Okay,” he said, catching her hand in his. “So you are sober.”

  “Yep.” Again, she went up on tiptoes, putting her mouth to his ear. “And extremely turned on. Take advantage of me, Spence? Pretty please?”

  He held on to her hands and met her gaze. “By my count, you have one week left here in San Francisco.”

  This surprised her. He’d been keeping track. “Yes.”

  “And we’ve knocked out everything on your list. Except for number ten.”

  She stilled, her body quivering. “Number ten?” she asked, like she wasn’t clear what he was talking about.

  His hot glance said nice try. “You remember. The wild, passionate, up-against-the-wall, forget-your-own-name love affair that makes you weak in the knees when you think about it.” He smiled. “But a short love affair, really short, because you don’t have time or energy to keep that level of sex up, much less maintain a relationship.”

  She stared at him. “You remembered it word for word.”

  His eyes were badass sexy as he let go of one of her hands to reach for the bow he’d just tied at her waist, slowly pulling on it until it gave. The robe loosened and her nipples went hard.

  “Be sure, Colbie,” he said, his mouth against hers. “Be real sure.”

  She slid her hands into his hair. Having this man inside her again? Knowing that these memories would have to keep her warm in the months ahead back in New York? She’d never been more sure of anything in her life. “One hundred percent,” she said and shrugged out of the robe, letting it fall to the floor.

  “Oh, Colbie.” His voice was like velvet as he pulled her in closer, his hands skimming down her back to cup her ass. “Missed this.”

  “It’s been like twenty-four hours.”

  “Felt like a lifetime. You’re so warm and soft.”

  “Soft?”

  “It’s a good thing,” he murmured, dipping his head, letting his hot open mouth skim along her throat, her shoulder. “The very best thing. You’re gorgeous.”

  She squirmed. “Are you going to talk all the way through this?”

  He huffed out a soft laugh and took a bite of her shoulder. “Yeah. I think so. Look at you.” One big warm hand skimmed up her ribcage and cupped a breast. “You’re perfect.”

  “Not . . . perfect,” she managed.

  “Perfect to me.”

  The words melted her. It was also hard to argue with him with his hands caressing her so deliberately. She was about three inches from coming and he hadn’t even lost his clothes yet.

  That had to change and quick. She got his shirt open and shoved it off his broad shoulders so that she could touch him skin-to-skin. He shucked his pants and when he was as naked as she, he snaked an arm around her waist, lifting her up against him so that her legs could encircle his waist. Then he took them on the move.

  “Where are we going?”

  “My bed,” he said. “The bathroom counter isn’t going to do it for me.”

  “Too hard?”

  “Too cold.” He took a couple of long strides and threw them both onto the bed. “You’re not going to get cold on my watch,” he said in a thrillingly rough voice.

  “No? What am I going to get?”

  “Lucky. Very lucky.” He lowered himself over her until every part of them was touching and then finally, he kissed her. And not the light teasing kisses from before. This kiss was raw and shattering and intense, the kind of kiss that stopped hearts and melted brains, as his hands roamed her body, igniting fires everywhere they touched. He urged her thighs open, skimming a light touch over her heated flesh, and she nearly burst into flame right then.

  “Spence.”

  He slowed. Pulled back the heat with deliberate control and she