Kissing Under the Mistletoe - By Marina Adair Page 0,74

and finally gave up. No matter what chair he was sitting in, comfort was damn near impossible with her standing only a few feet away and looking like sex in heels. “How come you’re not at work?”

“They double-booked my shift, said I could have the day off.”

“And you came here?”

She nodded. “Your grandma told me that if you weren’t in your office you’d be fixing your family’s problems up here. She asked me to bring you this. Said it was time-sensitive.” She held up an envelope and squinted as if trying to see through it. “But I’m pretty sure it’s empty.”

“Empty, huh? Then why did you come?”

With a smile that was 100 percent trouble, she walked straight toward him. He had to pull his legs back in to make room for her as she skirted right between his widespread knees. “What if I told you Holly’s going to Pricilla’s after school, and for one day I want to feel like something other than a mommy?”

“I’d say we’re going to need a hell of a lot longer than a day to get through every fantasy I’ve cooked up over the past few weeks.” Gabe set the envelope on the side table—definitely empty—and moved to the end of the chair, which brought her breasts right where he wanted them, at eye level. She was so close he could smell the rain on her skin, see the droplets that clung to her lashes, and see the hunger in her eyes.

He skimmed his hands over her boots, the backs of her knees, the backs of her thighs, not stopping until he got to her very bare, very sweet ass. He groaned. “And not one of them included you sans the silk, Vixen.”

“I figured you already had one pair of mine, I didn’t want to lose another,” she teased, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders for support.

“You have to earn those back.” Nudging the V of her top lower, he placed an open-mouthed kiss in the valley between her cleavage. Catching a drop of rain with his tongue.

“Well, you get one day. Then I go back to being a mom, and you go back to being a DeLuca. So make it count.”

“Did I ever mention that I am an excellent negotiator?”

“One day, Gabe.”

She looked stubborn and set on her ridiculous plan. It didn’t matter, he had all day to convince her otherwise. Might as well start now.

“I also like a challenge,” he said, raising his head to look up at her. But he didn’t get the chance, because Regan got things started on her own.

“Then your challenge is to make this”—she slid her hands up his chest and into his hair, and he felt what this was all the way down to his dick—“go away in one day.”

Then she was on him. Kissing him.

Vixen was kissing him.

Her skin was slick with rain, her mouth hot with need, her hands were everywhere and he loved it.

Gabe knew the attraction was mutual, but he had always been the one to instigate. Not today. Today, Vixen was open and aggressive and taking the lead. Hell, if this is what she was like when she was running things, he’d follow her just about anywhere.

His hands tightened on her ass, hauling her up against him and damn near exploding when she moaned against his mouth and bit his lower lip. There was nothing sexier than a woman who knew what she wanted and went after it, especially if that something happened to be him.

Her scent was nearly as intoxicating as her taste, because she tasted like sex and sugar cookies, a combination that was insanely hot. So when her tongue slid against his, he snapped. He could barely string together two thoughts when she was dressed. Now that he knew what she had on under her skirt—abso-fucking-lutely nothing—he was a goner.

He wanted her right now, right here. His hands slid down the globes of her ass and his fingers found their way back under her skirt and between her legs, gently gliding over her center.

She jerked at his touch and pulled back enough to whisper, “Not here,” against his mouth, but her legs widened, giving him better access.

“Okay.” With one hand he pushed up her top, baring her breasts, and sucked her nipple right through the red lace. It budded against his tongue.

“How about here?” His tongue traced the edging of her bra, over her breast, down into the valley between and over to the other side, gently