But his woman had other plans in mind.
“Feels so good,” she whispered, her eyes shuttering closed. She was into it,
lost in her own little world, and he watched in total amazement as her brows furrowed, her mouth pursed. “God, you feel so good, Nick. Please…”
“Willow.” Her eyes opened when he said her name and he slipped his hands behind her back, pushing her down so her face was on his. “Kiss me, princess.”
She latched her lips to his, kissing him hungrily. He cupped the back of her head, keeping her mouth on his as he thrust deep inside her, desperately chasing his orgasm, hopefully catching hers, too.
Whimpering against his mouth, she started to shake, little cries escaping her as she came, sending him straight into his own orgasm.
So easily, it damn near killed him.
…
“I wanna ask you something,” he said hours later. They lay tangled in the covers, sated and sleepy, his fingers in her hair, her lips to his chest.
“No, I really don’t like seafood,” she said, her voice a soft tease. He could literally feel her smile against his skin.
Which made him smile in the darkness even though she couldn’t see him. “I get that. Well, I don’t get it, but whatever. I have something else I want to ask you.”
“What?”
“I was wondering…” He swallowed hard, irritated with his chicken shit behavior. “It’s almost Christmas, you know.”
She stiffened. It was subtle, but he knew that soft, curvy body of hers well enough to feel it. “Yeah.”
“What are you doing for the holidays?”
Lifting up on one arm, she squinted at him, making him thankful it was mostly dark. “Why do you want to know?”
“Just asking.” He added a shrug, but she kept on looking at him, so intently he wanted to squirm.
“My dad is going to Aspen,” she said once she settled back against his chest.
“Swanky. You going with him?” Her dad. He’d almost forgotten all about Walter. He certainly didn’t want to think about him now when he was in bed with Willow.
Would Walter still be upset about Nick dating his daughter again? Or would he finally let her live her own life and make her own choices?
“I can’t. I have to work,” she said simply.
“You have to work on Christmas?” Yeah, he’d played games on Christmas Eve before, but this seemed extreme.
“No, but the weekend before I’m going to Vegas and working a bachelorette party.” She launched into the story. How it was for a girl she went to school with. That it was a combined bachelorette/extension business launch party with more than five hundred confirmed guests so far. Sounded crazy.
Also sounded like it had the potential to send her business to the next level, what with all the contacts.
“The timing just doesn’t work. Too many holiday parties and things scheduled through the New Year. I can’t get away,” she finished with a little sigh.
“Are you sure? I mean, I know you have those part-time employees who could help you, right? Maybe they could cover for you,” he suggested. Damn, maybe he shouldn’t ask her. Sounded pointless, considering she couldn’t leave.
“They need to stay here for the other events I have scheduled. I hired extra help to take with me to Vegas. That gig is too important not to have them on hand helping out. I mean, I don’t have anything actually scheduled on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, but I have things going on right before and right after.” She paused. “Why are you asking? What are you doing for Christmas?”
“I’m going home. To Texas so I can spend the holiday with my family.”
“Oh.”
He swallowed hard. Here he was his chance. He needed to just do it. “I was sorta hoping you could go with me.”