Page 38 of Naughty-ish

Taking a sip of wine, I stare back at him before setting my glass on the mantel. A single stocking hangs off-center there.

I’m so out of practice at seducing a man. I want Nick’s capable hands on me. I want him to plow my body like he tends my lawn; empty the trash in my head, rid me of my ex; and make me glow like the lights he placed around my house. But I don’t know how to start.

Finally, Nick speaks as if reading my thoughts. “Take off your jacket.” He pauses, watching me. “Slowly.”

With shaky hands, I unbutton the length of my coat. As he demanded, I casually shrug it off my shoulders and let it cascade down my body, eventually pooling at my feet. His Christmas tree is to my back. The flames of his fireplace heat my side, but the light coming from his eyes is set to scorch me.

I’m wearing a bright red dress that wraps over my middle and ties at my hip. I found it in my closet, the tags still on it from a Christmas past when I didn’t wear it.

“You’re better than sugar plum fairies dancing in my head.”

His silly comment lessens some of my anxiety. He tips his head, the movement suggesting I come closer to him. When I stand before him, his hands lift to my hips and coast up my sides, heating my flesh through the thin silk. He pauses just short of my breasts, thumbs scooping underneath them before he slides back down to my hips and lower, tracing the outline of my thighs.

“You make a pretty present.” His voice drops as he focuses on the ribbons acting as a belt, securing my dress around my waist. With a lazy tug, he pulls at the tie, stretching it to its full length, which loosens the material. The dress slips open, catching on my breasts. With one finger, Nick reaches forward, swiping the fabric to the left, exposing more of me. The same finger then moves to the right, opening the dress so he has a clear view of my midsection.

“Wanna see how hot my fireplace gets?” A tease fills his voice.

“This is where I should say something witty about logs, right? But I’m too nervous to joke.”

His gaze is focused on my face. The intensity in his eyes softens. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Let me look at you, and it will fill my fantasies for another six months.”

I tilt my head and my hair shifts over my shoulder. “Fantasies?”

“You’re a dream, Holliday. That’s why Monica left last summer.” His focus remains on me. “I told her I didn’t want to continue the casual thing we had going, not when I was having some spectacular dirty thoughts and confusing feelings about my hot neighbor. I couldn’t get you out of my head.”

His gaze drops, scanning over my body. “I don’t need to touch you, honey. But damn, do I want to.”

“I want you to touch me.” The boldest, truest statement I’ve ever said.

“Let me unwrap you then.”

I nod while I chew on my lower lip.

Nick remains seated. “Take off your dress. Keep the heels on.”

Again, I do as he commands, taking my time to brush off one side and then the other, allowing the soft material to skim down my arms and catch on my wrists. I drop my hands, and the dress falls to the floor, circling my feet near my coat.

Vulnerability overcomes me, and I tremble with the need to cover my midsection.

Nick continues to stare at my body, taking his time to gaze from toes to tits. “Come here.”

He spreads his thighs, allowing me to step between his legs. Leaning forward, he kisses my belly in several places, taking his time to cover every wrinkle and stretch mark. I’ve had kids, there’s no disguising it on my midsection.

His hands coast up my sides again before cupping my breasts in tandem, pushing them upward and pressing them together. The swells ache, and my nipples strain against the silky fabric of my bra. Cleavage escapes the edges of the material.

Nick runs his nose along the crease between my breasts and then kisses each one. He squeezes until he pinches each nipple.

“Oh, God,” I whimper. My lids droop at the sensation rippling over my breasts that haven’t been touched by another human in too long.

“Turn around,” Nick orders, and I spin. His knees press together and wedge between my legs, forcing me to spread my legs. “Have a seat.”

Straddling over his legs, I falter and land on his lap with a thud. “Are you playing Santa again?”

“Let’s leave Saint . . . er, Santa out of this. You can tell me what you want.” He tugs me farther up his thighs. His nose nuzzles at the juncture of my shoulder and neck. “Tell me if you’ve been bad or good.”

Considering I’m a decent person, I definitely haven’t ever been as bad as I’d like to be. “You already know I wouldn’t mind making the naughty list.”

Nick hums at my throat, and his hands stroke my thighs, slipping between them and spreading me wider over his legs. With my back to his chest, my legs bracket his, and I’m feeling very exposed. The scent of my sex mingles with the pine fragrance in the room. I’m wet and wanting, waiting for Nick’s next command.