“You’re cold.” Nolan declares it. It’s not a question.
“No. I’m not,” I argue. “The suites are heated.”
How can he not feel that? It’s perfectly comfortable in here, externally. And internally well, I’m far from chilly. I’m just about ready to combust. But he doesn’t need to know that. And then our eyes meet and that delicious smile deepens, and those eyes with their big flecks of amber slip lower again, and I realize… he knows. His tongue slips out and slides slowly across his bottom lip. “If you’re not cold, then you’re turned on. Nipples, like hips, don’t lie, Felicity.”
“Oh my God,” I hiss softly as my cheeks turn from pink to fire engine red and I quickly fold my arms across my chest again. “This is highly inappropriate!”
“Not if you’re my girlfriend,” He replies, and when I move to step around him, he moves with me so we’re toe-to-toe and his big, broad chest is in front of nose still. Oh fuck, I have to get away from him. “So why don’t you stop arguing with Santa and admit we’re right for each other? You’re just scared.”
“I don’t date men who work with my father,” I manage to repeat. My heart is beating at double-time.
“I’m not working with your father,” Nolan replies and even dares to shrug at me. “I picked you Felicity. Just like he should have.”
And just like that, my vision blurs with tears. I wasn’t expecting them, and neither was he. I try to blink them back as he panics. “Hey! No one cries in front of Santa.”
“Lots of kids do!”
“But you’re not a kid! Stop,” he begs. “Crying women freak me out.”
I manage to keep the tears from falling and choke out a little laugh. The tension on his handsome face eases, and he steps towards me again. “Now admit it, you think we’re right for each other.”
“I think… we’re so wrong we’re right,” I admit with a shy smile.
“Yeah. I think that pretty much sums it up,” He grins at me and lifts a hand to run it through my hair, which I left loose today. “So… now what?”
“Now we go home so I can sit on Santa’s lap,” I reply with a flirty smile.
“Or how about…” He grins back at me. It’s feral again. And this time I don’t fight the flush it brings. He reaches up and gently plucks my antlers off my head. “How about we stay right here and you sit on Santa’s face instead?’
I am frozen, but not in fear… in embarrassment? No. In desire. Desire has me rooted to the floor of this suite, unable to move away from him. All I can see is the rough stubble on his dimpled chin, covered in that temporary silver-white spray dye and the glint of lust in his hazel eyes and the scent… that woodsy scent of his that makes me feel as primal as he looks.
“Nolan… you’re naughty,” I whisper. He’s right up against me, my hard nipples rubbing up against his chest through the flimsy fabric of my blouse, sending shivers of lust down my spine. I need to start wearing sweaters to work if I’m going to be this turned on by him from now on. Thick, impenetrable sweaters.
“I said I would play Santa, but I didn’t say I would be PG.” He smiles, slowly. And then I feel his thumb under my chin, and he starts to tilt my head up so our eyes lock. And I let him because the feel of his rough fingers under my chin is excruciatingly sexy.
“Nolan Duggan,” I repeat his name in a strong whisper because that’s all I can manage with the tingle shooting down my spine as his fingers ghost my neck. “You are a stubborn, grumpy, gruff, royal pain in my ass.”
“Uh-huh.” His smile is simply too much to handle. I can’t bear it. I have to get it off his face. “I’m also your boyfriend.”
I grab his face in my hands, barely registering the rough brush of his stubble on my palms before I pull him down and our lips connect.
It’s instant fireworks inside me, everywhere. Sparks and heat and brilliant bright desire course through me. His big hands grab my waist and yank me closer. I knew he would be rough and demanding, like last night. Like the kiss in the staff kitchen. And my girl bits are jumping for joy. Because he’s all mine now and not going anywhere.
I don’t have to deepen the kiss, he does it for me. His tongue demanding entrance and then sweeping over mine with a rough dominant pass. Before I realize it’s happening, I’m moving backward. Nolan is guiding me to the large couch at the back of the suite, near the small kitchenette area where the catered food goes. I reach up and hold onto his tie, pulling him down with me when he pushes me over the low arm of the couch and onto my back across it.
He breaks the kiss long enough to smile down at me. “Tell Santa what you want for Christmas?”
“For you to find something else to do with your mouth besides talk.”
I lean forward trying to kiss him again, but he pulls away with other ideas, clearly. His lips find my neck, and my eyes flutter closed. One of his hands snakes up under my skirt and makes it all the way to my hip bone before I open my eyes again. “Nolan…”
“I’m going to do something other than talk with my mouth,” he tells me. “Unless you tell me rabid little Christmas elves like yourself have something against getting their pussy licked.”
Holy shit. Is this real life? Am I actually going to let him do this right here and now? Of course I am.
And then he drops to his knees, and his lips start a path from my knee upward, his hands pushing my skirt up higher and higher to clear the way. By the time he gets to the highest point of my inner thigh, I’m panting in anticipation. When his tongue slides delicately across my folds, I moan. He smiles. I can feel it by the scrape of his beard against my inner thighs. I fucking hate that my weakness for him is bringing him satisfaction. So I slip my fingers through his dark, thick hair, which is still damp from his post-game shower, and I force out an ultimatum in order to pretend I have control over the situation at all.
Nolan has got mad skills with a stick on the ice and with his tongue off the ice. I’m writhing and quivering within seconds. I wat to fight it though, to make him work, and I know he wants to work. Our push-and-pull, tug-o-war relationship isn’t changing just because it’s official. He slides two fingers into me at once and his lips find my clit, his tongue lapping it eagerly. “Fuck, Felicity, you are too stubborn to come? Really?”
