Hot Christmas Kisses. Joss Wood

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СКАЧАТЬ and plump. Ducking his head, he touched his lips to her, swiping his tongue across her nipple, feeling the shudder run through her.

      He loved that he could make her feel like this, that he could take her from mad and sad to pleasure, that he could put those purrs in her throat, make her arch her back in eagerness. Her fingers in his hair tightened as he blew air over her nipple and his name on her lips was both a plea and a demand for more.

      He moved to her other breast, loving the taste and texture of her. His hand traveled down her hip. Matt slid his other hand over her ass, kneading her under the fabric of her skirt before inching the material up so his fingers brushed the back of her thighs. He wanted those legs around his hips, her breasts in his mouth. He needed to be inside her as soon as possible.

      He wanted them naked; he needed her. Matt’s hand slid between her legs, wishing away the fabric barriers between her secret places and his fingers...

      Then Matt was touching air and DJ was...gone.

      Matt looked at the empty space between them and shook his head. One minute she was in his arms and the next she was halfway across the room, staring at him, her mouth wet from his kisses and her eyes blurry with desire. She wanted him, so why the hell was she six feet away and he was here? Matt took a step toward her and DJ held up her hands.

      “This is my office, Edwards. I’m not about to get naked with you here.”

      Fair point. How soon could they leave? It had been a hell of a long time since he’d seen her naked, kissed her senseless, heard her moan as she fell apart in his arms.

      “I’m not about to get naked with you at all.”

      Matt blinked. What?

      There wasn’t anyone else. They’d just shared a kiss hot enough to melt glass. They’d been sleeping together for many years. He was going to be around for the foreseeable future and she was cutting him off?

      What was happening here?

      What was he missing?

      DJ gestured to the sofa. “Take a seat, let’s talk.”

      He’d rather be making love, but since that was out of the question Matt sat down, adjusting his still rock-hard erection and begging it to calm the hell down because it wasn’t needed at this precise moment.

      “Coffee?” DJ asked.

      Matt nodded, stretched out his legs and ordered himself to get a grip. He watched DJ with narrowed eyes as she popped a pod into her fancy machine, powered it up and, when the mug was full, added a dash of milk. Ignoring the sugar dispenser, she walked over, placing the mug on the coffee table in front of him. Then she took the seat opposite him and draped one slim leg over her bouncing knee.

      DJ was nervous. Now, that was interesting.

      “What are you doing back in Boston, Matt, and how long do you intend to stay?”

      “I have some personal business that necessitates me sticking around for a few weeks. One part of that personal business is persuading my grandfather to move into an assisted-living facility.”

      DJ’s eyes turned warm with sympathy and his heart stuttered. He loved her expressive eyes, the way emotions swam through them, the way they resembled luxurious chocolate.

      “Is he sick?”

      Matt shook his head. “Alzheimer’s.”

      “I’m so sorry, Matt.” DJ tipped her head to the side, curiosity all over her face. “And your other personal business?”

      He wasn’t ready to talk to her, or anyone, about his daughter, Emily.

      Besides, he wasn’t here to talk. He wanted to feel. He wanted to touch the skin on the inside of DJ’s thighs, pull her tasty nipples into his mouth, nibble her toes. In her arms, while he loved her, he could forget about the complications of this past year.

      Dylan-Jane was his escape, his fantasy woman, the perfect relationship because it was all surface. Because she didn’t demand anything more than he was prepared to give.

      But instead of falling into him and losing herself in the pleasure he could give her, she was retreating. Hell, if she had “back off, buster” tattooed across her forehead, her message couldn’t be any clearer. DJ uncrossed her legs, leaned forward and rested her forearms on her bended knees. She stared at her hands for a long time before looking up at Matt. “Cards on the table, Matt?”

      He didn’t expect a good hand but nodded anyway.

      “Your being back in Boston, even on a short-term basis, doesn’t work for me.”

      Well, hell. Not what he wanted to hear. In his mind, reality crashed into fantasy and he felt a little sick. And a lot disappointed. He’d been relying on having some time with DJ as a way to step out of his head and regroup.

      “I have a life here and that life doesn’t have room for a hot lawyer who wants to share my bed.” DJ glanced at her desk and lifted her eyebrows. “But maybe we can go somewhere in the New Year, see if the magic is still there.”

      Matt didn’t know if she was being serious, and not knowing where he stood pissed him off. And there was something in her tone...something he couldn’t put his finger on. Behind her tough-girl words, he could see vulnerability and...was that guilt?

      “What aren’t you telling me, DJ?”

      DJ arched an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

      Damn if that prissy voice didn’t make him harder than he already was, if that was possible. “Spill it, DJ.”

      Irritation flashed in her eyes and she shook her head, looking weary. “Lawyers. If you weren’t so damn hot I wouldn’t have hooked up with you.” She sighed. “I don’t have space in my life for an affair with you, Matt. I work long hours, I like my space. Also, I tend to get cranky around this time of year, so I prefer to be alone.”

      She didn’t like Christmas? Why not? There was a story there. Another one. And why was he suddenly so curious? For seven years, he’d managed not to ask her questions, not to dig deeper, but now his first reaction to new information was to find a spade and start shoveling?

       Get a grip, Edwards!

      “Apart from a weekend of great sex with you here and there, I like being alone. Seeing you a couple of times a year is enough for me.”

      Matt leaned back, placed his ankle on his opposite knee and held DJ’s gaze. She was trying so hard to remain calm, to persuade him that she was a cold woman who didn’t feel anything, but she needed to become a lot better at lying before he bought into her BS. She wasn’t cold, or sophisticated, or tough. What she was, was bone-deep scared of having him in Boston.

      Why? Why could she easily handle a few days with him but seeing him regularly scared the pants off her?

      And why did he care?

      And why wasn’t he saying to hell with this drama and walking out her door? He could leave, walk down the block and into a bar and, after a couple of cocktails and an hour or two of small СКАЧАТЬ