The Christmas Fix Read online

  “Shhhhh.” Hot breath against my cheek. Rapid beating of a heart against my own.

  Footsteps. Rumbling down the hard-tiled floor. A man’s footsteps.

  “Zac...?”

  A finger to my lips. “Hush.”

  A clearing of a throat. Mumbling.

  Heavy breathing.

  Very heavy breathing and that was just me. Door closed. One thigh more grappled than held, a deep growly voice against my ear, “If we’re quiet, he won’t know we’re about.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah,” he whispered. “What is that I’m smelling?”

  “I washed my hair this morning.”

  “Mmmm. You smell good. You always smell good.”

  I inhaled a lungful of air, taking in his rich scent as well. Rough. Spicy and sweet with a dash of male protective dominance. Zachary, sexy as freaking hell, Taylor was mine. All mine. How had I resisted him this long? Oh yeah. Too old. A man with a reputation.

  So what.

  “Why did you push me in here anyway?”

  A low chuckle vibrated between us. “Why did I...? Hush, he’s coming back.”

  That deep growly voice tickled my spine, wrapped around my skin.

  These last few weeks, getting to know Zachary Taylor brought me alive. Inside my brain, I stirred and stretched, like a hibernating bear sensing the arrival of spring. He did that. With all the stories he told me about what he’d been through. His travels. Near misses with a sniper. The time he saved an entire village from terrorists. The voice of a man who’d seen the world when all I’d done was dream.

  “I want you, Charlotte. I think you want me too.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” I said.

  He laughed, and then he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me to him, our hearts beating as one unit. I tried to remember what it was I’d planned on asking him tonight. Something important, but my mind was a total blur.

  Soft bites along my skin.

  “Stop that. It’s unprofessional.”

  “Oh. How about this?” He suckled on my neck. “Or this?” One hand reached beneath my uniform, pinched a nipple so hard I let out a yelp.

  “Hey!”

  “What? Just taking a poll to find out what is professional and what isn’t.”

  “This,” I said, cupping his scrotum through his creased woolen trousers, “is definitely not professional. Just so you know.”

  “Point taken,” Zac said. “What about this?” Large sausage-like fingers brushed my thighs. They fluttered the pubic hair in my panties, then cupped me with their heat.

  Oh God. I squeezed my legs together. Too late. The fingers had found their way into my lady parts and a rush of hot heat contracted in waves of pleasure. “No,” I squealed. “Not professional as well.”

  “Mmmm, good to know,” Zac said. “You’re alone most of the night. You’ve been waiting for me, haven’t you? Fantasizing with a vibrator, perhaps? ”

  He waited for an answer. I didn’t give one.

  “Maybe watched some porno, pretended it was me fucking this fine slick pussy I have right here?” He swiped once. Twice. Three times. Nerves suddenly sparked, I bit into his shoulder, to keep from keening.

  “It’s okay, baby. Bite me, just know that I’ll bite you back when you least expect it.” His breath was hot along my neck.

  Either one of the mops was pressed between my legs or Zachary Taylor, head accountant for the billion dollar company Remington Enterprise, had had enough of my snarky conversation and now he’d take his revenge.

  We’d been flirting with each other for weeks but he’d always remained the perfect gentleman, citing the fact that he was too old for me, and therefore in charge of my moral education. Whatever that means. Tonight was different though. All it took was my saying I needed something—although I may have batted my eyes and lifted my chest involuntarily—and him replying “if you get something you want, then I get something I want,” and a cocky grin I pretended to ignore. Trying to resist his charms and failing, I succumbed to that wild look in his steel blue eyes. I caved, tugging him by the hand so I could lead him down the hall. I knew there was a couch where we would be comfortable.

  This was not where I’d imagined our first kiss, though I loved the kinky idea of doing it in a confined space.

  Hot lips grazed a trail along my neck sending shivers through my body. Sizzling heat sparked inside my core.

  “We shouldn’t be doing this, Zac.”

  “Why not?”

  “We work together. Sort of. Isn’t there some sort of rule about that?”

  Flirting was one thing, but fucking someone in your own back yard? I could lose my job. That shit went way beyond putting in overtime.

  “No rules about fucking in closets. I think I would remember if there was.”

  Footsteps from hard-soled shoes. Closer this time.

  What was wrong with me? Ma Ma would be mortified and she’d be right. I was brought up better than this. Hell, our servants had more class than this. I guess that’s why I was finding it so exciting. I’d always wondered what it would be like to get down and dirty in a public place. Have a man rip my clothes off. Make wild passionate love to me with people watching. It made my heart race, my juices turn molten. Touched by a man who couldn’t wait to have me, no matter where we were. What would it be like to be lusted after like that? Just once.

  My hips thrust forward and Zac, hot as fuck Taylor, growled his approval into my ear. An ear moist from the strokes of a male tongue. I reached up, no small task when my arms were pinned to my side, but I had to touch his hair, tangle my fingers in their warm silky locks. He grabbed my hand, planted a kiss inside my palm then devoured me with his lips. We kissed for what felt like forever. As if we were two long lost lovers. Lovers who’d bottled and capped so much desire inside our bodies, we’d spontaneous combust if we didn’t remove our lids.

  “So that was foreplay for this,” Zac groaned when he came up for breath.

  “What was?”

  “Before.”

  “Our little discussions, the flirty glances, the way you kept licking your lips and flouncing your hair all the time.”

  “I do not flounce my hair.”

  “Yes. You do. Admit it. You’ve been trying to get in my pants since the day we met.”

  “Was not.” It was a good thing he couldn’t see me smile.

  He laughed. “Who knew smart girls needed to talk so much before sex?” Large strong hands slid up and down my back tingling my fevered skin.“All these weeks we’ve been discussing everything under the sun.” Hot breath against my face, he pushed into me, making his erection known. “And all the while you had one thing on your mind and one thing only. My cock.” He nibbled on my neck, busied himself below. He chuckled. “Who knew a closet would be the perfect playpen?”

  “Arrogant ass,” I spat but I let him continue to touch, trace every inch of my heated body. “Why did you pull me in here?” I smiled into his chest.

  “To do this.” His voice rumbled, a deep sensual warning . He reached around squeezed my backside then moved along my belly. “Owe. Shit. Shimmy to the right a bit, will ya?”

  I sensed something like a large metal box on the wall behind Zac, I shuffled my feet a bit, amazed I could move at all. God knows what we were pressing each other up against.

  He growled a little too loudly. “Holy shit! You’re not wearing a bra.”

  That’s right, asshole. Since you didn’t get the message. For a week!

  Dang, he smelled good. Like chocolate and cinnamon laced with spices that were rolled into hard delicious male. Reaching up on my toes, I slipped my tongue along his newly shaved chin. A little soapy, but I liked it. I wanted to savor him. Store the memory away for another day.

  I planted my hands on his chest, absorbing his thunderous heartbeat. I felt teeth graze my neck.

  Our body heat increased the temperature of the room. The air was thin, my lungs struggling for oxygen, whether that had
anything to do with the room or my inability to take a breath, I didn’t know. I wished we could open the door a crack.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” I allowed him to unbutton the top three buttons of my dress.

  My breath came in hot, short bursts. Pulse racing. La-dub. La-dub. La-dub. La-dub.

  “I’m a big guy, just so you know.”

  “We’ll see.” Large hands brushed me from hip to navel making little swirls with his fingertips as if I were a Braille coloring book. “God, you’re beautiful.”

  “You can’t even see me.”

  “I don’t have to.” He’d bunched up the fabric of my skirt. Fingers probing, they dipped along the edges of my panties.

  Reaching between us, I managed to hook my fingers inside his waistband. I unsnapped, unzipped, and then giggled when his cock sprang free. “Commando style?”

  “You weren’t the only one who came prepared.”

  “Okay. But to be honest, I’ve felt bigger.” Actually, it was the first dick I’d ever felt in my hot, little hand, my sexual experiences limited to a close encounter with a male cousin twice removed on my father’s side. It had been quick and dirty, commencing in the back of the pool house on New Year’s Eve. We were sixteen.

  “Bigger huh? We’ll see.” He lifted one of my legs, pushed my undies to the side. I’ll go slow.”

  “Fuck that. I can take whatever you... Oh!”

  With Zac’s height and the fact that I was short—even for a woman—we couldn’t seem to connect comfortably. He had to bend his knees and lift me onto my toes but there wasn’t a lot of room for that. After several awkward thrusts, he flipped me around. I could feel his erection against my ass. Hot and ready. Dripping fluids onto my skin, I felt guided onto a stack of books or maybe it was a small stool. “Hands right on the wall, baby,” he instructed. My breath hitched as he entered hard and fast, groaning and grabbing hold of my hips while he moved. I felt engorged as he moved harder, faster, pushing me into the wall with every thrust. Something tumbled off a shelf.

  My mouth felt dry, but all that sensation, that buildup, I’d felt from his hands, was gone somehow. Would it feel better lying down I wondered, because nothing about this was like what I’d imagined. What I’d read about on the internet. Not even what I felt with my vibrator. What had I read about coitus? Orgasm. Why wasn’t I moving toward orgasm?

  Stop thinking. You’ll ruin everything!

  “Baby..” he began, his breath scalding my neck. “This good?”

  “What?”

  “I want...Ah fuck...” He quickened his pace and I knew he was getting close.

  I felt my face pushed into what felt like soft rags, the oxygen sucked out of my lungs. I started to cry.

  “Charlotte...?”

  “It’s not,” I stuttered. “I’m not...”

  “You can’t come like this,” he finished. He slowed his pace, apologizing and out of breath. Then one arm grazed my inner thigh. A digit flicked between my legs where I needed it, the nerve endings igniting like firecrackers.

  “Higher. Yes. Right Oh. Oh my God.”

  “Let me know if it hurts. Like I said, I’m...Ah fuck, you feel so good.” His rough voice was a blowtorch, melting my insides. Warm slippery fluids slithered down my thighs. It pooled into a puddle at my feet while a feeling of pure bliss blasted me into orbit.

  “Shit,” he said suddenly, “we don’t have a condom unless...”

  “No,” I whispered.

  In an instant I felt the loss of him. Empty. Unsatisfied.

  He flipped me around, resumed pleasuring me with those thick fingers of his First one. Then two. “Oh God.”

  I climaxed, my tiny world inside this room swirling with the intensity of it. When I came down to earth, he fastened the top buttons of my blouse and kissed me. “You wanted to ask me something?” Poor guy probably had a terrible case of blue balls.

  “I did but not anymore. Apparently shoving me into a closet was more important.”

  “Listen, I’m sorry. Whatever it was, I’ll make it right.” He ran a finger down the side of my cheek. “If there is something you need, just say the word.”

  “Sure, now you want to know what it is,” I said in a sarcastic tone of voice. “Tell me something, Zac. You thought ahead enough to leave your boxers off, yet you didn’t think about bringing a condom.”

  “Most women I know are on the pill these days. I guess I just assumed...”

  “And you know where the word, assume comes in the dictionary right?”

  “What?”

  “Before ass but after me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I guess it’s my fault for falling for your bullshit.”

  His body stiffened beside me. “You know what you need, little girl?”

  I knew I was going to regret answering that but I couldn’t resist. “What? Your enormous penis?”

  He chuckled. “You need me to fuck that sassy attitude out of your pretty little head.”

  “Didn’t you already do that?” I asked.

  “What? Fuck you?”

  “Yeah, that.”

  “I don’t know. Did I?”

  “Did you what?”

  “You can’t say the word, can you?”

  “I’m not that kind of girl.”

  He burst out laughing. “You certainly are, Miss Davis and I just proved it.”

  “Fuck you.” Truth was I’d never done anything like this in my life and I hated that I liked it. It felt cheap and stupid. Probably why I was taking it out on Zac.

  Zachary Taylor was the unofficial boy Friday of Chase Remington, President of Remington Enterprise. Also, not my boss, but he may as well be. Chase could report anything he chose, to the Cleaning Agency I worked for. Have me fired if he wanted. He had the power.

  “I’ve given you the wrong impression,” I said.

  “Which is?”

  “I’m a...a good girl. I don’t swear. I don’t do flings with men I barely know, and I don’t do closet fucking.” I felt Zac’s grin against my neck, his hand on my bottom squeezing as he pulled me to him. His kiss was ferocious.

  Why hadn’t I left the closet?

  Oh yeah.

  This.

  That long undeniable yearning of sexual connection with another human being. I loved how it emptied my brain of all useless matter, controlled me. Controlled by him.

  “See how easy that was to cuss. Felt good, didn’t it? Talking dirty I mean.”

  “I didn’t...”

  “You did. You said closet fucking. Now just move the words around a bit. Try saying you enjoyed me fucking you.”

  He unbuttoned my blouse, raised my bra and took both breasts in his hands. Pinching then into two stiff peaks. My breath came so fast, I was sure I was hyperventilating. Maybe I did do closet fucking. Besides, who was I to leave the guy with a raging case of blue balls? “Fuck me, Zac. I’ve had the depo shot.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You didn’t ask.”

  There were no more words of approval. Just the sound of panties ripping. A loud thud. Our bodies tangled against the teetering cabinet. I reached back, felt something behind my head. Flipped a switch. “A nightlight? Seriously?”

  “The better to see you with my dear,” Zac growled sounding like the big bad wolf. I swallowed, because damn, I loved how his nostrils flared, eyes wild like he wanted to bend me naked over his knee.

  Two large hands lifted me off the ground. I curled my legs around his waist, welcoming Zac’s cock. I was glad I could see his eyes this time. With flecks of cobalt blue, a cool glow cast over them, turning darker, his arousal piqued.

  “I’m. Glad. There’s. Light.” Groan. “You’re fucking gorgeous like this.”

  The file cabinet banged against the wall.

  Bam. Bam. Bam.

  And he didn’t stop kissing me.

  Kiss.

  Bam.

  Kiss.

  Bam.

  P
aused, mid-fuck!

  “What’s wrong?”

  A familiar voice.

  Jingling of the door handle followed by a flash of light that blinded me.

  “Whoops. Holy shit!”

  Cool air sliced through the room as two startled blue eyes stared back at us. I couldn’t move or speak.

  Shielding my eyes from the glare, thighs wrapped around Zac’s torso, my heart stopped beating.

  “What the fuck, Chase! Close the door, man. Close the fucking door!”

  Chapter 2

  Charlotte

  WHILE DRINKING COFFEE, I gazed into a looking glass over the sink, frowning at my dark curly hair. Back in Jamaica, I had my own stylist to color, wash and straighten, but since coming to New York, I’d let it go natural because I could no longer afford a professional. I had no idea how expensive salons were here.

  I swept my hair back, pivoted then let it fall above my shoulders in fluffy waves. “I look like a deranged lion,” I complained to the reflection in the mirror. If only I could wear it down like most women, or pull it back into a cute sexy ponytail. I wanted curls, not frizz. Waves, not kink, but my hair was so thick, it always ended up looking like a sheep’s tail. My African heritage on my father’s side. Taking an elastic from my wrist. I pulled back as much hair as I could, wrapped the elastic around, then folded the whole mess into itself, securing it with a tortoise shell clip, ready to face the day.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about Zac, which had been a huge glitch in my slumber routine. I needed to sleep after being up all night. My vibrators took the edge off, but that didn’t stop me from thinking about how it felt to be held, the feel of his lips, the fever he’d ignited inside my body that I’d no idea existed. Sure, I’d had sex before, but not like that. And not in a closet of all places. What the hell was wrong with me?

  I raised my mug to the mirror. “You are better than that,” I said aloud. “And you don’t need a man. You have a future. Maybe in law. Or medicine. Who knows, but you definitely don’t need distractions. Didn’t we come here to put all that behind us?” I placed my coffee cup in the sink.