Samantha Hunter - Wild Holiday Nights

Calla seemed to know, backing away from the kiss, breathless, her cheeks flushed, eyes bright.

“Touch me, too,” she said, before fusing her mouth to his again.

Her wish was his command. Bringing her a little closer, he slid his hand up the firm muscle of her thigh under her skirt. She’d worn tights in the winter cold, but he got them out of the way and eased his fingers inside the scrap of lace she wore under them.

“Oh, yes.” She sighed as his fingers stroked her sex, her slick skin telling him how ready she was.

It had been a lot of years since he’d done anything like this, kissing and getting off with a woman just by touching. It was wildly hot.

“You’re so soft,” he murmured against her cheek as he felt his body tighten, close to release. He wanted to last, but she was a devil with those hands, not letting him escape the rising tide.

He captured the hard tip of her breast with his lips through her blouse as he moved one finger inside her, then two, thrusting into her heat and drawing a long moan from her.

“Oh, Gideon, yes...”

The way she said his name and surged against him was all he could take. Pleasure rushed from him, the orgasm stealing his breath as his body moved against her of its own volition. He gladly let it steal his sanity for the next few moments.

She cried out, too, seconds later, her head dropping back, her face a study in sheer pleasure as she rode out her release. Gideon kissed her throat, tried to catch his breath as he brought her closer, holding her against him for several long minutes.

Calla snuggled into him, warm and relaxed as she sighed in contentment against his shoulder. Gideon was a bit shaken, for reasons he couldn’t understand. He’d intended on having some fun, doing something spontaneous. What had just passed between them was, instead, unbearably intimate—more so than he would have expected for a quick office interlude.

Maybe it was the residual afterglow, but he felt closer to Calla than he had to anyone he could remember in recent memory. The fact was that he was feeling things he’d never expected to feel—or maybe he’d known all along. Maybe he’d known when he first kissed her back at the barn, and that was why he’d walked away.

Because Calla could never be casual. She was so much more than that.

He wasn’t so sure that she felt the same way about him.

“I—I should wash up and get back to work,” she said, almost apologetically, straightening her clothing.

“You do that. I’m going to go do a few things. It won’t take long. Call me if you need me,” he said, leaning in for a long, soft kiss.

“As if there’s any question.”

Surprise flickered in his brain at her response, and he wasn’t sure what to say, so he didn’t say anything. With a smile, he left the office, checking to make sure everything was secure before he left.

Now he had to set a plan in motion, to romance Calla in her bakery window and hope that it not only saved her shop, but convinced her that maybe they were more than a holiday fling, as well.

* * *

IT STARTED WITH the Christmas lights.

Gideon had returned to the shop with his arms chock-full of Christmas lights. He’d insisted that she needed to decorate her shop and her window and door.

Calla found it impossible to work with him crawling all over the place hanging lights and decorations, so she’d done the inevitable—she’d given in and helped.

Surprisingly, many of the people walking home from work or out strolling with their dogs had stopped to watch, applauding with oohs and ahhs when Gideon turned the lights on.

Then he pulled a piece of mistletoe out of his pocket and held it over her head for a kiss.

This one she granted him happily. The shop did look more in the holiday spirit, and it made Calla feel so, as well.

“Thank you, Gideon. This is lovely. I didn’t have time to decorate, but so many people are stopping to look at the lights.”

He nodded, clearly excited. He was so sweet, she thought, her heart warm.

“And did you notice what I put over in this window? They’re noticing that right along with it.”

She’d been working on the other side of the shop, and hadn’t seen what he’d been up to. Letting him lead her outside, eyes closed, she opened them when he said and was struck by what she found.

Twelve color pictures from her website of some of the most elaborate cakes she’d made that year hung in the window, all framed with lights.

“Gideon...this is...awesome.”

“I thought so, too. How could someone not want one of your cakes? The website address is listed at the bottom of each one, too.”

Calla shook her head, barely feeling the cold as she stared at her bright, lively windows. The pictures were definitely eye-catching from the sidewalk, and even from the street.

“You’re brilliant. How could I have missed putting pictures of cakes in the window? I have the catalog in here on the counter, but I never considered this.”

“Well, it was one of Diedre’s ideas, and she is brilliant. You can’t think of everything, Calla. You have a lot to deal with here, making these cakes.”

“Remind me to send your sister a thank-you. This is very sweet, Gideon,” she said again, feeling a little choked up.

Calla had felt alone in her career since she’d started out. While she had friends, they were also often her competitors. Her family was far away, and supported her in a general sense, but not like this. No one had ever done anything like this for her. Even as she stood there, people stopped to check out the window and pointed to which cakes they liked best.

They went back inside, and Calla turned to Gideon, giving him a spontaneous hug. It didn’t matter to her if anyone was watching.

“I did have fun today. I’ll have to get here a little earlier tomorrow to finish, but this really was wonderful.”

“I’m glad,” he said, loosening the bun she’d pulled her hair back into and running his fingers through it in a way that lit up her nerve endings as brightly as the shop.

“Maybe we could get some dinner and head back to my place?”

“Sounds great. I’m starving,” he said with a chuckle, backing away.

Calla missed his touch when he let go. Oh, no. That wasn’t good. She had to be tired—she was feeling far more warm and fuzzy than she should. This was only a fling, only sex. And Gideon was just being nice, helping her with the shop.

“Me, too, really,” she said with a smile, closing up and grabbing her coat. “It’s been a long time since lunch.”

As they walked out onto the street, Gideon didn’t let go of her hand.

“So, you know the city and the food better than I do. Any preference?”

“It’s too late for a lot of restaurants if we don’t have reservations, especially this time of year, but I have a friend who runs a small place in Spanish Harlem where you can get the best burrito in the city.”

“Better than that place on Rudd St. in Houston?”

“Oh, man, way better,” she said, rolling her eyes. “No comparison.”

She knew the spot he meant; it was one of the places cops ate regularly because it was open all night. It had a decent menu for a take-out place, but nothing like Diego’s.

“Let’s go, then,” he said jovially.

“We should take a cab—it’s in East Harlem, and probably not a place you want to leave your rental car,” she said, letting go of his hand as she stepped to the curb and hailed a taxi with an earsplitting whistle.

The yellow cab appeared at the curb, screeching to a halt.

“Wow,” Gideon said, holding the door for her as they got in. “That was impressive. I tried to grab one a few times today, and it took me three tries.”