Maggie Shayne - An Enchanted Season

“Maybe I’ve been waiting for a woman to help me pick it out.”

What the hell was that supposed to mean? He wanted a girlfriend? He had a girlfriend in mind?

“Know anyone who could help me out?”

“What, decorators? Probably.” Will was walking toward her, slow and steady, that look all over his face again. He was confusing her, and she didn’t know what to think, so she backed up slightly.

“I can’t afford to pay much. I was kind of hoping she’d do it out of the kindness of her heart, and so we can spend time together.”

“Did you have someone in mind?” Charlotte wiped her sweaty palms on the front of her jeans, suddenly clued in as to where this was going. Possibly. Maybe. She hoped. Or feared.

“Yep.” He was right in front of her, and the only piece of furniture of any size was somehow right behind her, trapping her against the back of it.

She leaned away from him from the waist up, but he just slid in closer, his legs trapping both of hers.

“I want you.”

Hello. How many times had she wished he would say something like that? Now he had, and he merely meant he wanted her decorating services. Something was really wrong with that. Though honestly, he didn’t look like he had window treatments on his mind.

“I never claimed to be an interior designer.”

“I bet you have plenty of ideas. And you know what I would like. You know me better than anyone.” His hand slipped around her waist.

He was touching her. He was holding her. He was really, really close to her, so close she could hear his breathing and smell his aftershave. Feel the hard press of his thigh against hers. Yep, he was holding her up close and personal. And her heart was going to crawl up her throat and choke her. Crap, she just wanted to relax and enjoy it. But it was wrong, wrong, wrong. It was all those sex symbols she’d drawn and tucked inside the mistletoe. It wasn’t real.

Yet she just couldn’t bring herself to shove him away. After all, this wasn’t his fault and she didn’t want to make him feel bad, or embarrass him. It’s not like anything really inappropriate was happening. They were just cozy up against each other. So he was brushing his finger down her cheek. Big deal. They were friends. They touched. It was normal. Friends hugged, too. They kissed occasionally. Hello. Good-bye. Good luck. Missed you.

But not like that. Holy moly macaroni, Will had closed that little sliver of a space between them and had brushed his lips over hers. The first time was soft, quick, gone before she had barely registered it had happened. But then he was back again, and this time he wasn’t playing around. His mouth came down firm, intense, taking her mouth in a hot, confident kiss that had her automatically responding, kissing back, desire igniting in every inch of her body. His grip on her waist tightened. She was too stunned to do anything but close her eyes and enjoy the moment. He tasted better than she could have ever expected, and the man knew what to do with his tongue.

There was no thrusting or pushing or awkwardness, just smooth, coaxing strokes of his tongue over hers, his warm, big body enveloping her everywhere. It was a hot and glorious contact that she let drag on and on, even when his hands dropped down and cupped her backside lightly. It was all good. It made sense to her when her eyes were closed and her lips were so happy, doing a delicious dance with Will. Everything seemed perfectly natural for a minute or two while her mind was mush under the influence of lust and longing.

But then his fingers brushed lower, down between her legs, from the back no less, in a blatantly sexual intimacy that ripped a gasp from her mouth, and sent a warm rush from her inner thighs. He’d made her wet. With just a kiss and a little butt groping.

And it had taken a lust spell to get him to so much as lip lock with her.

Charlotte broke the kiss, the embrace, and whatever else you wanted to call the sensual cloud she’d been floating in, and ducked under Will’s arm to get the hell away. She was cheap and easy and she was in love with him. It would be wrong, wrong, wrong, with a capital W to sleep with him.

Will wiped his bottom lip as he turned, giving her a slow, sexy smile. “Where you going, Charlotte?”

At least she was pretty sure it would be wrong to have sex with him.

“That was feeling really good to me, and I wasn’t finished.”

Maybe it wasn’t wrong. If he liked it.

A quick glance at the front of his jeans showed he liked it very much, thank you.

WILL WAS FEELING OPTIMISTIC. ALONG WITH TURNED ON,hot and bothered, and good old-fashioned horny. Charlotte had let him kiss her. She hadn’t balked or pinched her lips together or wrinkled her nose. Not only had she let him kiss her, she’d done some mighty nice kissing back, including touching the tip of his tongue with her own. And she hadn’t seemed to mind his hands on her ass, if the way she had been pressing up against him was any indication.

She’d run eventually, but he had expected that. That was workable, fine, something he could overcome. As long as she was attracted to him, interested in taking their friendship to the next level, Will could deal with a case of nerves. But the minute he had pulled her shopping bags out of the trunk of her car and seen the mistletoe lying on top, tied with a ribbon and ready for hanging, he had known that Bree was right. Charlotte did feel something for him more than friendship and the mistletoe he’d scrunched up and shoved into his front pocket was proof. Why else would she buy mistletoe to hang in his place if she didn’t want him to kiss her?

He was feeling so pleased that he didn’t even mind that she didn’t answer him at all when he told her wasn’t finished kissing her, just dove back into her shopping bags with gusto, clearly flustered.

“I think your tree should go in front of the living room window. We’ll move your coffee table over there and set it on top. That way everyone driving by on the road can see it, too.”

“Good thinking,” he said, leaning against the couch, just wanting to watch her for a minute. Charlotte was such a beautiful woman. Her beauty was fresh and natural, and while she cared about her appearance and took care of herself, she didn’t primp and fuss and overprocess. She was also an intriguing blend of confidence and modesty, ambition and shyness, and he appreciated, enjoyed that about her.

“I brought my iPod, too,” she said, yanking it out of her purse and holding it up in front of her like a shield. Her cheeks were flushed pink. “Christmas music. I figured you wouldn’t have any.”

“Wonderful.” Will started toward her, but she moved again, practically jogging to the speaker he had sitting on his end table. “Charlotte.”

“Hmm?” Her back was to him as she switched his player for hers. “Jingle Bells” blared out into his living room. “Oh, too loud. Sorry.”

She bent over a little to adjust the volume, and Will almost groaned. Charlotte’s ass in a pair of jeans was a beautiful thing. His mouth went dry just looking at the way the denim hugged her curves, especially at the apex of her thighs. “Are you just going to ignore the fact that we kissed each other?”

The song switched to “The Happy Little Elf.” Now that was sexy. Not. He moved right up behind her, needing to kill the distracting music.

Charlotte whirled around and held the remote against her chest. “Yes, I was actually totally going to ignore the fact that we…you know.”

“Kissed?” He almost laughed. She looked so embarrassed, you’d think they had done something downright kinky instead of just swapped spit for a minute.

She just nodded.