Noelle is nothing short of a miracle worker.
It’d been years since I last stepped inside Cactus Bloom Café. I avoided the place because it held too many memories of my parents, especially during the holidays.
Still, as I considered which traditions to share with her, stopping there for Christmas Eve breakfast was a no-brainer. With her beside me, the dull ache turns into something peaceful. Even talking with Marge brought me comfort I never thought possible—a reminder of how loved my parents were, and that this town hasn’t forgotten me, even after all the years I’ve spent keeping to myself. I would never have found the courage to walk back in there if it weren’t for Noelle.
After our stop at the toy store, we dropped off a truckload of donations at the homeless shelter and spent the afternoon building a snowman in front of the cabin. For dinner, I made roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and garlic bread—another one of my mom’s Christmas Eve traditions.
I left Noelle for what was supposed to be a quick check on the animals, but I ended up mucking out a few stalls and fixing a loose barn door latch, which kept me away for a couple of hours.
It’s dark when I get back to the cabin, and I’m welcomed by the warmth of the fireplace. The tree’s lights twinkle beside the flicker of candles on the mantel. Noelle’s curled up on the floor, nestled in a pile of blankets and pillows, her e-reader in hand. She looks up, and that smile—bright and effortless—hits me so hard my knees damn near give out right there in the doorway.
“Took you long enough,” she rasps, setting her e-reader down.
“Sorry, I had to muck out Blaze’s stall—”
My apology dies on my tongue when she straightens up, stretching her arms overhead, the blankets falling away to reveal a sheer white bralette with red satin trim and matching panties.
Fuck me.
Noelle tilts her head, toying with her bra strap. “Something catch your attention, cowboy?”
I swallow hard, suddenly forgetting how to form a coherent thought. She’s pure sin wrapped in white and red, the fabric hugging every curve like it was made to tempt me, and all I can think about is tracing every inch of her with my tongue.
With my control hanging by a thread, I scramble for a distraction, nodding to her e-reader. “What are you reading?”
A faint blush colors her cheeks. “A mafia romance.”
“What’s this one about?” I force my gaze to remain on her face.
After peeling my gloves off, I shove them into my coat pocket before hanging it on the rack by the door.
“A mafia boss falls for the woman sent by a rival to infiltrate his organization.” Noelle wets her lips and sits back on her heels. “She’s there to pay off her father’s debt.”
I have no clue what any of that means, but she obviously enjoys it, so I pay attention.
“Infiltrated by a rival?” I say, hanging up my hat. “Tell me more.”
“When he finds out why she’s there, he can’t deny the attraction simmering between them.”
I kick off my boots and move toward the fireplace. “What does he do about it?”
“I’m 75 percent in—and it’s in the middle of a spicy scene where he’s claiming her as his.” Her voice drops to a whisper as she picks up her e-reader and holds it out to me. “Want a peek?”
I nod and bend down to take the device from her. I’ve never read a spicy novel before, but I’ll be damned if I’m not curious about what’s got her flushed, so I read aloud from where she left off.
I force my muscles to relax as Enzo pushes into me. The stretch is intense, causing a sharp burn and blurring the line between pleasure and pain.
“Oh god,” I whimper.
“Your god isn’t here, Carina. I’m the only one you’ll be worshipping tonight,” Enzo states.
Between his cock in my ass and the biting sting of the nipple clamps, I’m in shambles with tears streaking my face. He grips my hair, tilting my head back, and licks a stray tear from my cheek.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Noelle staring up at me, lips slightly parted, her gaze burning. Her unfiltered reaction keeps me reading.
As he pulls out and pushes back inside, the drag of his cock against my inner walls is unlike anything I’ve ever felt, unearthing sensations I never knew existed. When he adjusts his angle, I cry out as he hits a spot he found with his fingers earlier.
“Oh fuck, Enzo.”
